The Skulls in Our Wake - Chapter 34 - The_Patron (2024)

Chapter Text

76 spent his evening reading while pretending not to hear the soft whimpering from the couch. Reyes was dreaming, no doubt caught in another nightmare, but it wasn’t his place or a good idea to wake him. He’d learned from past experiences that Gabriel could wake with a burst of violence upon seeing his face, particularly when having a nightmare, which almost always involved Jack. And so the Synth permitted Reyes to suffer, though he did at least ensure he had a blanket, ever cautious not to get too close or speak any words when Gabriel was in this headspace. Even his smell could trigger the wraith to wake up and the last time it had happened, 76 had nearly been thrown clean through a wall. He could still remember the sharp pain of his shoulder dislocating and the neon red shimmering in Gabriel’s vicious eyes. Yes. Better to let him rest in his nightmares than to face those eyes a second time.

76 went to bed sometime after ten, wishing that his mere existence wasn’t such a traumatizing reminder of loss for a man that he’d always deeply cared for. It was a curse, really. 76 knew that it would be better for them both if he could find found the will to run far enough away that they’d never risk encountering each another again, but he wasn’t sure if his heart could take it, and he was most definitely sure that Gabriel would never forgive him for running away yet again. The wraith would surely just end up hunting him across the full length of America, only to burn down whatever life 76 had managed to build. Gabriel was nothing if not a creature of absolute and unapologetic spite.

76 wondered how long it would be before one of them snapped yet again. It seemed inevitable.

He was exhausted.

His sleep was restless. 76 rarely dreamed and luckily enough didn’t dream that night, but he did toss and turn, struggling to fully grip the calming embrace of nothingness. He gave up around five in the morning, got dressed, and went on a jog to clear his head and relieve a little stress, and got distracted by scouting and scavving through a downed jet infested with radrats. By the time he returned to Sanctuary, it was nearly eight, and the guards would have already swapped out.

76 adjusted his backpack and perked his ears when he heard the distant yelp of alarm at the northern gate entrance. He jogged closer to get a feel for whatever was going on, which sounded more like arguing than combat, though he kept a hand close to the pistol strapped to his leg. As he approached, he saw the familiar shape of a gorilla and immediately understood what was happening. “Hey!” he called and bounded across the small wooden bridge crossing a stream to catch up to the group. Winston, Sombra, Preston, Widowmaker and Dr. Virgil were all at the gate, where Preston was calming down some of the Minutemen guards. 76 couldn’t blame them for being scared of Winston. The guy was harmless and very friendly, but he was still, in fact, a freaking gorilla.

76 slid to a stop a few feet from the group. Sombra looked exhausted and mildly annoyed, and was wearing a bright orange radiation suit, the same that Widow and Virgil were wearing. Virgil was back to being fully human now, having only retained a few inches of his height from the FEV, but otherwise was how 76 remembered him to appear before he’d run off. Widow was completely transformed, her green skin back to being pale and spotless, but she too had retained some of her size, as well as the deep green hue in her hair and the bright yellow of her eyes. That wasn’t too surprising, seeing as how her FEV was complemented by surgeries and other complex chemical modifications. He wasn’t sure of her personality changes but knew to take things slowly in conversation and approach. She was likely still at least mildly hostile, though Preston wouldn’t have allowed her to come to Sanctuary if he felt she was dangerous to anyone, at least not without direct oversight. Preston was marching around in the spare power armor, and was still busy with reassuring his people that Winston was safe. Winston wore a unique looking custom rad suit, though his was mostly made up of whites. 76 presumed the guy had designed it himself and had probably worn it during the escape from the Institute.

“76?” Sombra blinked sleepily. “Long time, no see.”

“It’s only been a few weeks,” he chuckled, and she shrugged.

“Feels longer to me. You’d think years had passed, being stuck in a bunker with these dweebs.”

“76!” Winston moved to give his old friend a very gentle hug, careful not to hurt him with his enormous bulk. “It’s so good to see you!”

“Hey, buddy,” 76 laughed and did his best to return the embrace, patting Winston on the back. “Glad you guys made it out of the Glowing Sea.”

“It was a long walk,” the scientist laughed, “and treacherous in some places, but nothing we couldn’t handle. We would have stayed longer but the Brotherhood of Steel has become restless, and we couldn’t risk being discovered.”

“It was time to leave.” Dr. Virgil sighed and folded his arms, looking uncomfortable as the gates to Sanctuary were finally opened. The scientist fidgeted and 76 put a hand on his shoulder, offering a reassuring smile.

“You’ll be safe here,” he promised. “I’ll take you guys straight to Angela. You won’t be alone, and we don’t have to discuss your past.” 76 could feel some of the tension loosen from his shoulders.

“Thank you,” Virgil nodded. “It will be good to see Dr. Ziegler again.”

Preston and 76 held back until the group had entered the settlement and the gates were locked behind them. “I’ll go report in to the General that they’ve arrived. Can you escort them?”

“Yeah, no problem. Glad you made it back.”

“Thanks. I’m frankly glad we made it back in one piece, but I’m really hoping that I’ll never have to go back out there for anything. I’ll see you around, Jack.” Preston nodded his head and 76 got the feeling it was meant to be a stand-in for tipping his hat. The soldier stomped towards a power armor station to climb out of the spare set before jogging towards Nate’s concrete home, clearly pleased to be back on the normal ground again.

“He’ll be back,” Sombra spoke quietly.

76 glanced to watch her rub Widow’s shoulder. The tall woman looked nervous and unsettled, her bright golden eyes darting around and her body language curled in on itself. For almost as long as he’d known her. Widow had been nothing but dominant and confident. Seeing her so insecure was incredibly strange, but understandable. “Come on. I’ll take you guys to Dr. Ziegler.” He motioned at the group and began to walk around the back of the buildings to take a backway towards the house that currently served as the Followers base of operations. The fewer people that saw Winston, the better. He’d make his place here with time, but people would be freaking out for a while and the last thing they needed was to give Widow any avoidable anxiety. Winston seemed to understand this as he remained very quiet for the entire, albeit brief, walk.

Once they were close, 76 put the group behind the building and opened the cellar, leading them down inside, where he found Dr. Ganon humming and sipping tea as he poked around a large machine they’d set up in a corner. It looked like a x-ray machine, but hr couldn’t be positive.

“Oh,” Dr. Ganon blinked in wide-eyed surprise as the group descended. The room was hardly large enough for them all and the tables and crates and machinery still being organized, especially considering one of them was a live gorilla. Arcade stared between them and adjusted his glasses, putting his cup down on a small metal table against the wall. He gave a small and nervous laugh but smiled. “Well…hello there. Good morning.”

“Dr. Ganon, these are a few of my friends. Everyone, meet Arcade Ganon. He’s one of the resident doc—”

“He’s one of those dweebs we saved from Nuka-World that I told you about,” Sombra cackled loudly from where Amélie was attempting to half-hide behind Winston’s dark mass.

Arcade made an amused but awkward sound. “Yes, well, that would be me, I guess.” He approached and exchanged handshakes with both Dr. Virgil and Winston. “My partner and I chose to settle down here in hopes of setting up a proper facility for not only medical purposes but for research. I primarily specialize in medicine, chemistry and energy research, but have experience in botany and engineering, amidst other things.”

“Doctor Brian Virgil, BioScience division. I primarily focused my research on the study of FEV and genetics, but I also worked on general medicine and chemistry and mutation studies.”

“You worked with the Institute, correct?”

“Um…. Yes. Yes, I did. But that life is behind me now. I’m still readjusting to the outside world, however.”

Arcade chuckled and picked up his tea. “Yes, I understand the feeling. Not that I worked for the Institute, of course, but I know how it feels to be out of place. But don’t worry, Doctor. You’re welcome here, and I’m excited to work with you. I can always use more hands. As for you,” he turned his blue eyes towards Winston, who just looked glad to not be frightening the tall blonde off, “Dr. Ziegler told me a lot about you. You specialize in nutrition, botany and energy, right?”

“Oh! Yes! I have a special interest in the power of electricity and creating efficient generators, which meant that I aided the Advanced Systems branch very regularly, though they didn’t much care for my presence. Understandable. I also worked in the BioScience labs, which was where I was primarily placed, so I learned a great deal about botany—how we made food and medical supplies from plants and the like—but I love all manner of science! I’m eager to learn!”

“I’ve never met an old-world gorilla before, much less one that’s capable of talking or creating generators,” Arcade smirked, his eyelids low and warm. 76 could see why Tom liked Arcade. “Pleased to meet you. Winston, correct?”

“Yes. Thank you for allowing me to stay. I’m well-aware that I’m…abnormal.”

“We’re all a bit strange, in our own way. I see no reason to hold it against you. Besides, you’re simply unique. It’s something to be proud of, not ashamed by.”

Winston was practically glittering and 76 got the feeling that the pair were going to get along just fine. He needed to get out of there before they started to ramble too much. “I’ll go find Angela,” he announced and moved to head back up before Sombra grabbed him by the arm.

“Where’s Gabe?”

“Asleep. Once he’s awake, I’ll let you guys know. Just stay here for a while, okay?”

“He’s still asleep? It’s past eight! Is he sick or somethin’?”

“He had a rough night, but I’ll go see if he’s gotten up yet. He’s been in a bit of a weird mood lately so I’m giving him plenty of personal space. Just stay with Arcade until Gabe’s moving, okay? I’m sure Amélie would appreciate lying low and being slowly introduced to everyone.”

The giant woman snorted. “I’m not a child.”

“Ignore her. She’s just grouchy because we haven’t eaten yet.”

“I’ll see what I can do for food. Just stay here.” 76 pulled away when Sombra pouted, and climbed out of the cellar to go find Angela. He managed to track her down easily enough. 76 spotted her familiar shape moving around in the main building upstairs, so he slipped into one of the damaged windows and dropped inside.

Angela jumped when she saw him, making the synth chuckle at her squealing before she slapped his arm with the folder in his hand. “Jerk! You and Gabriel just love sneaking up on people, don’t you?”

“Good morning, Angela,” he chortled. “I brought you some friends.”

Her expression immediately shifted from annoyed to excited. “They’re here already?”

“In the cellar. Arcade’s with them. Is Tom around?”

“He was taking inventory the last time I saw him. He might be a while yet. We got in all sorts of donations from Hanco*ck and can’t fit them here so he was figuring out what we could immediately use. We’re going to need a larger place, for sure. I need to talk to Nate about designing an expanded facility.”

“I’ll make sure he knows the others are here—and we’re already working on a design for you. But hey, go say hello to Virgil. I’m sure he and Winston will appreciate seeing you. Plus, I’m sure Amélie could use a basic checkup. Just…be careful. She’s anxious and Sombra will be overprotective of her for a while.”

“It’s been so long since I’ve seen either of them! Thank you! And of course. I promise to be as gentle and considerate as possible with Amélie.” She beamed a smile and gave him a quick hug before darting out the door.

76 smiled to himself at her show of excitement. It was strange to think about how many people he knew were beginning to come together in this old neighborhood, all due to a single person’s generosity and a common goal of dealing with old demons. Gabriel would certainly be interested to know that Sombra and Amélie had made it safely but 76 was nervous to bother him. Which was worse: Gabriel waking on his own and getting angry that 76 didn’t tell him they’d arrived, or being woken up in a blind rage?

The synth sighed a long, weary breath and fell onto an old chair lined with red flower prints. He ran the back of his knuckles over his tired eyes. Would dealing with Gabriel ever get any easier?

Several minutes of quiet moping passed before his thoughts were interrupted by a slim shadow passing over him. 76 opened an eye to see the monk Zenyatta smiling very tenderly and managed to smile back in spite of his solemn mood. “Hey. Good morning. Sorry.”

“Good morning, Jack. What might you be apologizing for?”

“I guess nothing. Just… Sorry.” He stood, feeling incredibly awkward, and wiped himself off as though covered in dirt, feeling his nerves shivering.

Zenyatta hummed and 76 felt naked, blushing as he was examined with the monk’s illuminating gaze. “Feeling guilty this morning, are we?” the synth teased just a bit with a small chuckle, his teal eyes squinting with amusem*nt. His smile was bright and gentle and warm, like a summer morning. Something about his presence and how he spoke and moved was calming, though 76 still found Zenyatta to be a bit strange. It could have been the knowledge of what the synth was and the greater reminder of everything the Institute had done; how many demons remained to be slain.

“Hah… Yeah, I guess so. I just don’t mean to be in the way. I came by to let Angie know Preston and the others are here. I just sort of zoned out, I guess.”

“Hmm. Yes. Of course. That is understandable. But there is no reason to be nervous, Mr. Morrison. I do not bite, as they say. You do seem quite burdened this morning. Might I inquire as to what is causing you distress?”

“I, uh…” 76 sighed again and struggled with his judgement. “It’s…Reyes,” he caved with a long breath of relief.

“Gabriel? Hm. Are you fighting again?”

“We’re always fighting,” 76 grumbled, “but not really. Specifically, I mean. Ugh. I just…don’t know what I am to him. Sometimes he hates me. Sometimes he’s so overprotective that it becomes smothering. Sometimes he smiles at me and we laugh, and I think we’re becoming friends, but then he gets all moody and won’t even look at me. I know it’s because he’s thinking of Jack—that I remind him of him and everything crappy I’ve done to deserve that spite—but I keep hoping that he’ll forgive me and we can just be friends. I don’t want to replace Jack in his life. I just want to be in it as 76, you know? But Gabriel keeps bouncing back and forth and it’s just a mess. I can’t even wake the guy up without him throwing me through walls. I have to tip-toe around him and apologize for merely existing, and it’s just…exhausting.”

Zenyatta hummed a considerate noise from the deepest recesses of his soul, clearly giving 76 every ounce of attention in his body. It was good to feel listened to for once. “Relationships can be challenging things to keep stable, particularly with the amount of history that you two share. Are you seeking advice, Jack?”

“Hell, if you have any, I’ll take it.”

“If Gabriel’s presence in your life has become toxic, or if he is being controlling and will not listen to reason or consider your feelings, you may do your soul well by being willing to walk away from him. Just because Jack’s memories and your past guilts encourage you to aid Mr. Reyes, that does not require that it is the best thing for you, personally.”

“You think I should stop being his friend?”

“I think that you are a remarkably sensitive and considerate soul who senses suffering of others and feels responsible for attending it, thus causing yourself pain by sharing his burden. Your meaning is well, but it is not good for a doctor to wound themselves in the process of healing others, Jack. You cannot mend Gabriel’s wounds while carrying your own, and your responsibility is to yourself first. And if he is becoming toxic, you do not deserve to be treated that way, regardless of your histories, and you are not obligated to aid or tolerate him if he is being abusive.”

“He’s not being abusive,” 76 defended. “He’s rightfully angry. I posed as his boyfriend, tricked him, manipulated his feelings, got him killed, brought him back to life as an undead monstrosity, and abandoned him to being miserable… I deserve it.”

“No, Jack. You do not. You are deeply repentant about your sins and are not responsible for his acceptance of your apologies. If Gabriel resists to forgive you and is threatening to do you harm or causing you pain to punish you for the past, you are not mandated by that guilt to stomach his poison.

“We have all committed horrible crimes against our fellow person, and we all struggle with that knowledge, but it does no good to bottle it within ourselves. That poison festers and molds. It infects every aspect of our lives and souls. It nurtures nothing but doubt and pain. Yes, it is always prudent and good to apologize for those mistakes and to seek a way to amend for sins, but once those efforts have been made, we should allow that poison to bleed from ourselves. We must find peace in spite of ourselves, or we will all spend our entire lives half-suffocated in regrets.

“It is good for you to be so soft-hearted, Jack,” the monk smiled again and put a hand on 76’s shoulder. “Too many are so hardened by the nature of this world that they cannot feel the pains they have inflicted upon others, or have such tender will to seek penance, but you will continue to harm yourself with this way of thinking if you allow it to swallow you for too long a time.”

“I… Yeah.” 76 rubbed some wetness from an eye with the palm of his hand, cursing quietly under his breath. Zenyatta was right. He knew he was right. But part of him still fought it. He was so accustomed to constantly worrying about Gabriel’s feelings that he wasn’t good at considering his own. He could stand up for himself, sure, but 76’s radar was almost always dialed in to how Gabriel felt, responded, moved, acted, thought… He was always worried about him. Always thinking about him. There was hardly any room for himself.

“Perhaps it would do you both good to speak with me. I would be glad to be a mediator of conversation.”

“You mean like…therapy?”

“Yes. I believe that it could aid you both. We could speak separately and then as a group, only separately, or only as a group. I can speak to Gabriel, if you’re interested.”

“That…might be a good idea. God, he’s going to think this is so stupid.”

“I’m sure he shall have words about it,” Zenyatta tittered, “but allow me to handle him. I do not fear Gabriel, and I believe that he respects my opinion on these matters. He may very well agree to a meeting, and we could begin to seek healing your relationship. Should you both decide that you are better off apart, that would at least be something you could decide together. That way, he won’t feel abandoned should you part again.”

“I’d like that. Thank you.”

Zenyatta bowed politely, ever humble. “Of course. Now then, go get yourself some breakfast. I have work to do and you do not belong in the office.”

“Oh—right. Sorry.” 76 hopped up.

“And, Jack, you must stop apologizing for everything. You permit your guilt to control you and it is not healthy. Apologize when there is something to apologize for.”

“Right. S—er…right. Thanks. I’ll try. Have a good morning, Doc.” 76 smiled and waved as he stepped out of the small building, feeling a little less weight on his shoulders, and began the march towards the Mess Hall.

“Well, well, well. Don’t you look f*cking adorable?”

Danse arched an eyebrow at Gabriel as the wraith snigg*red and stepped into the warehouse where the synth was preoccupied with grabbing a few essentials. “Pardon?”

“I like the getup,” Gabriel motioned at him once a bit closer. “Did you let Jesse dress you this morning or something?”

He was wearing Minuteman colors today—well, the jacket, at the very least. Danse was still looking for some basic everyday clothing, and was wearing the same black tank top and tattered jeans as he’d often worn when working in town, but since he was planning to do some Minuteman errands that day he figured he’d at least look the part. A jacket and hat were all he needed, though he looked absurd with the hat, in his opinion. Nate had thought it was ‘cute’, which was only a notch above being completely degrading. At least it protected him some from the sun. And no Brotherhood would be looking for him in something so ridiculous, either.

Danse rolled his eyes and grabbed another small case of loose screws from a repurposed explosives box, tucking it under his arm. He doubted that they were organized by type or size at all by whomever had gathered them. “I’m going to repair some turrets and purifiers at Finch Farm. Maybe check in with some of the other settlements with Preston and MacCready, and escort some settlers. I might as well blend in.”

Gabriel snigg*red and leaned against one of the wooden beams supporting the building. He was wearing a bandanna again but Danse could practically feel that playful but horrible smile hidden behind it. “You’re really going to be playing cowboy with those dorks, eh?”

“Their work is important, and I want to continue to help better peoples’ lives. This is the best way to do that, without the backing of the Brotherhood.” Danse ignored Gabriel’s dramatic groan and grabbed a couple of small toolboxes boxes before walking past him towards the open doors.

Reaper ghosted up to walk beside him. “Hey, I ain’t knockin’ on what they do. I’m just f*cking with you. It’s good that you’re being kept busy. Is it safe to just walk around with Maxson hovering, though?”

“Arthur gave his word not to hunt or harm me, so long as I stay outside of Brotherhood territory. Assuming that we avoid that and their patrols, we have nothing to worry about. Preston is aware of the situation, and we’ve prepared accordingly. Should they come for me, I’m prepared to defend myself, however that looks like.”

“I see. How did Preston react to everything?”

Danse placed the boxes on a crate behind the power armor station he used to teach Jana. They were due for a small lesson soon, which was why Gabriel had come to find him since they’d agreed to work together now and again. “He’d learned about everything from Sombra, so he was aware of what transpired and my expulsion from the Brotherhood. He seemed grateful for the help, however. Surprised. That bothered me.”

“Why?”

“Because he shouldn’t be surprised that I want to help people, however possible. I was never a part of the Brotherhood to dominate the Commonwealth or to spread Maxson’s flavor of dogma. I’m sincere in my desire to make the world better.”

Reyes shrugged and grunted a small but dismissive sound. “I think you’re just a bit intimidating, is all. Don’t take it personally, Paladin.”

“I don’t mean to be intimidating.”

“Some of us are just naturally imposing. Now then, what are we teaching the brat today?”

“She isn’t a brat.”

“Oh my god, relax.” Danse gave him a look and Reyes sighed like an annoyed child. “I’ll be good. Just show me what we’re doing.”

“I’ve been showing her how a base power frame works.” Danse moved to stand beside the naked frame standing at the station and made certain that the chains keeping it in place were secure. “The basic makeup, controls, and safety operations. That alone will take time to cover before she’s familiar with it. Once that’s been completed and I’m confident in her knowledge and skillset with the basic operations and upkeep, I will move on to showing her the different types of armors, what separates them from one another, their repair and upkeep, and so forth. When she’s old enough to fit, we can begin basic training as far as wearing a proper set, but seeing as she is still a child, that will be years to come, and she may likely lose interest. Until then, between sessions, she’s permitted to observe my repairs and upkeep of my own armor.”

“You’re taking this pretty seriously.”

“It’s important to encourage curiosity and to feed a child’s interests. The more they enjoy learning, the easier it is for them to pick up on things. Besides, this is something I’m intimately familiar with, so I’m happy to teach her. Washington even suggested that I start some sort of class down the road—an intriguing proposition.”

Gabriel smirked and Danse quickly turned away to open one of the boxes and set down a few tools he’d grabbed. “You really would make a good dad. I wish my folks were half as supportive as you are.”

“Where is your family?”

“They’re dead, obviously, but they lived back in California. My father died on a job when I was eleven, and my mother died from illness two years later. I wandered a but before getting some work with the NCR and got basic training for a while before I decided it wasn’t for me, became a mercenary, and gradually moved East.” Not too unlike Kellogg. Gabriel hated thinking about how alike they were. “They at least tried to be decent people. My mother was a real weirdo but she loved me. My father was always working. He was an ex-raider turned NCR soldier turned retired vet turned merc. He spent the majority of his time guarding caravans and taking odd jobs.”

“He was a raider?”

“Yeah. A nasty one, too. But my mother got to him and he ‘found God’ or whatever. I think she was just extremely good at manipulating him, but it helped she was legitimately beautiful. I don’t know how he ended up getting her. He wasn’t exactly a catch.”

Danse put two and two together in his head. “Was he Legion?”

“Hell no. I’m way too old for that. But he was still an asshole who didn’t deserve a woman who was so patient with him. Despite at least trying to not be the world’s largest piece of sh*t on two legs, he regularly yelled and bossed her around, but she knew how to stand up for herself. I saw them fight practically every day. It’s good to see some kiddos get parenting from people who are better at giving a damn. Keep it up, Paladin. The world needs more guys like you.”

Danse frowned to himself while imagining a child Gabriel hiding away from fighting parents. “That…had to be difficult.”

“It’s fine. It was a very long time ago and it’s not something I regularly think about or that keeps me up at night. Like I said, they did their best. They were just like most people and weren’t exceptionally good at parenting, but they tried. They fed me, kept me safe, and made sure that I was educated. That’s really all I can ask.”

“You bitchin’ about your folks again?” The men looked over to see Sombra blowing a bubble of gum and flashing a playful little smile.

“Shouldn’t you be with Amélie?” Gabriel growled.

“Relax, jefe. She’s hangin’ with Preston. I just wanted to come say hello. When you gonna come see her?”

“I’ll come down after Danse and I do a little armor lesson with a kid. He’s got sh*t to do, anyway. Then we can discuss moving you and Amélie over to the satellite station. It still needs some work but you can use my room until I have yours finished.”

“Pfft. You think she’s going anywhere without Preston? You’re crazy. She already almost freaked out when he told her he was going to stay at The Castle, and then convinced him to stay for a while until she felt safe here. It’ll be a few days before we get her ass out’f that bunker. She’s definitely gotten attached to her wet blanket cowboy, but it’s good to see her with more friends. Preston was a good choice.”

Danse watched them banter, staying out of it until he was zeroed in on by the hacker.

“Hey. Heard about the sh*t that went down with Maxson. I’m sorry he’s such a jacko*ff.”

“Thank you. It’s regrettable, having been outcast by the Brotherhood, but this is for the best.”

“It’s definitely better. No offense, but most of those guys are either crazy or bloodthirsty or both. I’m sort’f done with that crap after leaving Arizona, so hopefully Natie can chase them off. They’re smart, though. I legit didn’t think they had it in them to hack into the data before I could. Really showed me up. And we only had to bail because I’m pretty sure they figured out where we were staying. I don’t know who’s giving me so much trouble, but I gotta hand it to ‘em, they’re good.”

“Likely one of the Proctors. The Brotherhood is good at what they do and have a great understanding of technology. It’s not a surprise they’d manage to beat you in a race.”

“Rude!”

“You guys having fun?” Nate approached with 76 and Tom, who was busy writing on a clipboard. Danse took a long moment to study him but could find no indications of the red head being a synth.

“We’re just preparing to give Jana a lesson,” Danse replied and wiped his hands off with a rag. “I’m heading to Finch Farm after that to help with some repairs. Will you be coming?”

“Not today.” Nate offered an apologetic smile. He stuffed his hands into his jeans. “I’m heading back to the Institute to do some more little things, and also will be starting to grab as much tech as I can stuff into my bag without being accosted. It won’t be too long now before I have things where I want them and we can attack the place, but in the meantime, I want to save as much as I can. If you’re heading out, please be careful… MacCready said that there have been reports of Brotherhood vertibirds on the outskirts of towns and stuff the last couple of days.”

“They won’t harm me without reason.”

“They’ll make an excuse.”

“If you’re so concerned, come with me.”

“I can’t today. As much as I’d like to, I really do have to keep my hands out of every Minuteman activity. They need to stand on their own legs someday. This is the first step. I’m sure Preston will appreciate the help you’re offering. Just…be careful. Please.”

Danse sighed but nodded. “I promise to show extra precaution, but only if you’ll promise to repair your gear before you leave. Your rifle needs some upkeep and your armor is starting to get worn out.”

Nate laughed and blessed Danse with a glittering smile, making the synth’s stomach roll in his belly and filling him with a sincere warmth. “I promise, officer.”

“Oh my god, are you two f*cking?” Sombra blurted. Danse felt his face flash red and he glared as she gave them both an arched eyebrow. “Because if you’re not, you really, really need to be.”

“They’re dating,” Gabriel snorted before either man could answer amidst their burst of embarrassment.

“Well, at least that’s something. Yeesh. I’m outta here, before you start making out or whatever. I’m around if anyone needs me.” The girl waved and skipped off. Danse wanted to die and take her with him.

“I’m glad that they made it out of the Sea alive,” Nate attempted to shift the awkwardness of the subject. “76 said that your friend Amélie is recovering well, too. I’ll meet them once she’s settled in a while. No reason to overwhelm her.”

“Yeah. She’s looking healthy,” Gabriel agreed. “I went and checked in on her just a little while ago, after I woke up.”

Nate flashed a false pout, making the wraith snort. “You promised us breakfast.”

“Yeah, well, too bad. I overslept.”

“I’m joking. I hope you slept well.”

“I didn’t, but thanks.”

“Relatable. Hey, if you’re not too busy today, after helping Danse with Jana, could you do me a solid?”

“That depends on what it is.”

“These vertibirds are making me nervous. You’re one of the slickest people here, and I could really use some intelligence on their movements and make a few Brotherhood bases. Just to get an idea of what they’re up to.”

Gabriel growled but Danse knew it was more of a pensive noise than a frustrated one. “I could do that without making any scenes, sure. Moving around after nightfall is best, obviously, but I’ll see what I can do.”

“I’ll go with him,” 76 offered.

Danse exhaled through his nose and inclined against the power armor frame, folding his arms and permitting the inevitable debate. He didn’t enjoy the idea of spying on the Brotherhood but Nate wasn’t wrong that some reconnaissance would do them some good.

“I’d really rather you stayed here and helped to work on some of the wall expansion projects.”

“Listen to the General. You don’t need to come. It’ll only make hiding harder with you tagging along.”

76 folded his arms, now scowling. “I’m fast,” he defended, “and I know how to be inconspicuous.”

“I’m not your boss and can’t tell you what to or not to do, but I really do think hanging back is the best plan, at least for a few days. Once Gabriel helps to come up with an updated map of Brotherhood routes and operations, we’ll all be more comfortable with letting you run around as much as you want.”

76 opened his mouth to argue before swallowing whatever he was going to say and grunted, turning away. “Fine. I’ll stay here. But I don’t like feeling cooped up.”

Danse was neutral in the situation but did agree with Nate’s assessment. “We don’t need to give Arthur any more reasons to become aggressive. Though they’ve likely been directly instructed not to actively hunt us, if soldiers see us, they could become hostile. All it takes is a single person breaking away from orders, feeling ornery, or having confusion regarding protocol, and we could have a war on our hands. Let’s not tempt fate unless necessary.”

“You’re leaving,” 76 grumbled accusatorily.

“Yes, but I’ll be with Preston in Minutemen-patrolled zones. The Brotherhood won’t dare open fire on civilians just to get at me, even if they did recognize me. Besides, Maxson likely didn’t give them orders not to kill you on sight. He likely just isn’t risking to actively chase you down.”

“See? It’s not worth it. I’ll be back by dinner.”

76 waved a hand and wandered off.

Nate sighed and placed his rifle on the weapons workbench to begin some repairs, stripping it down to inspect the parts. Danse watched, feeling his eyes sparkle. “This really sucks that our people are being bullied into hiding… Gabriel, can I count on you to report back with some intel?”

“Yes. Unforseeing anything stupid, of course. I’ll poke around.”

“Don’t start anything. Please.”

“I won’t be seen. I know when to hide and when to strike, and I know now isn’t the time to start fights with Maxson’s dainty little princesses. I’ll be back by dinner with what you want.”

“Bring a radio.”

Gabriel made a sarcastic bow. “Yes, your highness. I’ll leave as soon as my little class is over.”

“When are you coming back?” Danse asked as Nate inspected his clip.

“Not sure. Hopefully by sundown. I’m just gathering materials and intel. Maxson’s proved he can’t be trusted with a damn thing so I’m scraping every server that I can hack into and will pass things off to our people for decryption, processing and storage. Once I have everything I need and have things ready, we’ll make a move on the Institute.”

Danse studied the small ways that Nate’s body language shifted and tensed with his words, reading the unspoken apprehension as it wrinkled his form. “And what are we going to do about your son? What about Shaun?”

“Simple: I’m going to kill him.” Nate’s tone was distant and sharp, and his words were like a stab to the gut by a piece of shattered glass.

“You can’t be serious. He’s your son, Nathaniel.” Nate could fall into dark crevices when the stakes were high and situations mandated a stilled heart, though Danse knew such things to be occasionally necessary for the completion of certain tasks, as was the fate of all true leaders. Yes, Shaun—The Director—had to be removed from power and the Institute must be destroyed, for the sake of all, but to speak so casually and coldly about the murder his own son startled Danse down to his very foundations. Even he could be shaken by the unspeakable depths of black that Nate was capable of. Today, Nate’s eyes were darkened and unreadable, but the pitch was graciously not bottomless. Danse could still see the floor of blue within them and counted it among his blessings, and yet he still found himself shaken by the stilled and brutal resolve that he found there. The decision had already been made.

“He’s the Director of the Institute and he’s not going to change. I’ve tried to talk him down a hundred times, but it’s over. All I can do for him now is spend as much time with him as I can before the end, and then make it painless. He’s my son, and that makes him my responsibility.”

Danse put a hand on Nate’s shoulder, feeling the muscles tense as though he were preparing to strike out, but they soon calmed and melted into an uncertain shivering, that resolve loosening a thread along the edges as the blues fully returned to his now quivering eyes. Nate put a hand to his, though refused to look directly at him, no doubt hiding his stress and pain. He always wanted to be strong. Nate resembled Arthur in his steeled determination, yes, but also with his refusal to appear vulnerable, believuing that they must be inhuman in their will and strength. Both men dulled their edges and invested in appearing aloof and detached from their own fears and pains, wishing to be more than simple men so that others may pool and rise beneath them. These were traits that Danse had always respected but he’d recently come to understand were toxic. Yes, it was necessary for leaders to be unwavering so that those around them could find hope in that confidence, despite the odds and hardships faced along the path to victory, but not at the expense of themselves. Danse knew that all he could do for his partner was to be unwavering in his support. He squeezed Nate’s shoulder, reaffirming his presence and making a silent promise to stand by him no matter what they encountered along this road.

“It’s fine,” Nate said very quietly. “I’m going to be fine. It’s just…how it has to be.”

“You don’t deserve any of this.”

The blonde bobbed his head and sniffed before meeting Danse’s gaze, his blue eyes red and swollen and glittering with water. He smiled. It was fragile and shivering, but Danse could sense its sincerity. “Thank you. I’m just…ready for it to be over with.”

“Understandable.” Danse scrambled to change the subject but Reyes beat him to it. Danse had almost forgotten that he was even there, his everytbing having honed in on Nate.

“Not to ruin your little moment but what are we supposed to do when Arthur finds out you took out the Institute before he did? I can’t imagine he’s going to be thrilled, particularly after you pieced his new toy together for him explicitly to nuke the place to hell.”

Nate wiped the last bit of water from his eyes with his forearm and exhaled the remaining anxiety from his voice, returning to piece his weapon back together before answering Gabriel’s question. Danse kept close, hovering over his shoulder and feigning interest in his work, offering him some parts here and there and remaining quiet. “We do nothing. Maxson will sulk and complain but this is how we neuter him: we steal his big war and his win. Without being the ones to stop the Institute, and by showing him that we didn’t need him or the Brotherhood at all, we’ll make him look weak and, worse, unnecessary. People are going to see that they don’t need him around to save themselves. He could respond with aggression but I sincerely doubt it. He’ll probably just find an excuse to sit his ass in that harbor for years and will find another enemy to hunt and regain lost honor, but his and the rest of the Brotherhood’s image will be irrevocably wounded. He'll look bad—weak—and that might be what we need to get our foot in the backdoor and make some changes.”

“You could challenge him.”

Nate reinserted his clip and turned his safety on before looking up to his companion. “I don’t think another little knife fight will fix anything here.”

“I mean a real duel. It’s an old Brotherhood challenge called the Litany. Should you call for it, Maxson would be forced to fight you.”

“And why would I want to duel Maxson?”

“The Litany is a fight is to the death, and Winner takes all. You’d become the next Elder of our Chapter.”

“Oh. Well that makes this all extremely easy,” Gabriel snigg*red. “I could do that. Let me challenge him. I could use the excuse to spray him into the harbor. Then I can disband his merry group, or just send them on suicide missions.”

Danse didn’t have time to be annoyed by Gabriel’s plans to get his old friends murdered. He didn’t qualify, anyway. “Only a paladin can challenge an elder to the Litany. It’s a rather archaic ritual, if I’m being frank, but Maxson would be familiar with it. Like me, he was always interested in the Codex, and we’ve made jest of the rule in the past. Haylen knew of it as well. She begged me to challenge him to the Litany, claiming that I was well-liked enough that enough soldiers would still be willing to back me, but I didn’t believe that it was prudent to risk creating a rift in our ranks this close to raiding the Institute, but…maybe she’s right.” Danse turned his eyes towards Nate, who was watching him very warily, his form guarded and considerate of his words. Nate didn’t always do as Danse requested or suggested but he did always listen to him. “Perhaps you should challenge him, instead. It would of course be at great risk to your own life, and I’m no longer convinced that Arthur wouldn’t employ a sniper or some form of deception to kill a challenger in open sight of his soldiers. We’d have to do so with care. There’s no telling how Maxson would react, but I have confidence that you could defeat him in true combat.”

Nate stared for a very long moment and Danse very nearly wished that he hadn’t said a damn thing, but just before he was seriously beginning to think that his partner was going to take up the offer, Nate simply flashed a smile and kissed his cheek. “It’s always good to have a backup plan, and I’m confident that I could take Maxson in a real fight, but let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. I’d make a horrible elder. God, I hate meetings. Why does everyone want to put me in charge all the damn time? What about my face says ‘management material’? Even the Institute wants to make me the next Director…”

“What?”

“Oh. Right. I guess I never told you. Yeah, they—Shaun—want me to be the next director.”

“Why would he do that?”

“Because he’s my father, he’s in charge, and he’s dying. He wants me to be in charge after he…well… Nobody is happy about it. It’s a huge mess. Everyone practically went berserk in the meeting that he announced it, but the Division heads are willing to fall into line. You’re looking at the next head of the Institute, as soon as my son kicks the bucket, which should be soon. He’s got some sort of aggressive cancer and they haven’t been able to fix it. He’s given up trying. Killing him myself will probably be a relief to him. I know that he’s suffering a great deal of pain.”

Danse felt his stomach drop to his toes. Nate was smiling that shielding smile as he gathered his things together. “Nathaniel… I…”

“Alright, I’m heading out. You two behave, okay? Don’t give Preston too much trouble. I’ll be back hopefully around sundown and I’ll have my radio if anything goes down.” He kissed the soldier on the cheek again before bounding off after saying a quick goodbye to Reyes, who said nothing but instead turned those cloudy red eyes to study Danse.

Danse sat down on a rickety stool against the far wall and sighed. “It really isn’t fair.”

Gabriel droned a gritty sound and shifted to begin preparation for Jana’s arrival. “It never is.”

Nate made a displeased sound as he worked around the strange, putty-like mouth feel of the newest mystery ‘meat’ the doctors had come up with. He wasn’t positive, but he was pretty sure that it was meant to resemble pork.

“What’s wrong? Is the lab meat not to your tastes?”

He glanced up as a woman he vaguely recognized to be Dr. O’Deorain sat across from him with a platter of her own vague mush and vegetables. She wasn’t one of the scientists that Nate had much experience with just yet, which wasn’t a huge surprise given how many of them there actually were. As he understood it, she worked primarily with genetics and was often tucked away in some dim, half-forgotten corner of the Institute, rarely putting in the effort to show up for meetings or interact with any of her peers in any meaningful way unless Father mandated her presence. She was a strange looking person, with long and angular features and differently colored irises that made it a challenge to keep eye contact. He also didn’t much care for the way it felt that she was searching him with those strange, wild eyes. Moira lacked any sort of subtlety, but Nate had the distinct feeling that this was because she clearly didn’t give a damn about what others thought about her.

He dropped his gaze back to his food and pushed the meat blob around with a spork, unable to hide his disturbed frowning. “It’s…lacking.”

The woman chortled in agreement before taking a test bite and making a big show of a scrunched face. Nate tried not to smile but failed, and Moira’s expression fell into a mischievous little grin that made him mildly uncomfortable. “Word is that you’ve been looking for some improved produce for your little playhouse projects above ground.” She hummed and moved to reach into a bag she’d placed beside her. Nate’s eyes expanded when she produced a fresh russet potato.

“I might be.” He tried his best not to sound too eager. Real potatoes… He hadn’t been able to find any since he’d arrived. “Are you looking to make a trade or something?”

“I might be.” She set the vegetable on the table. “And there are more varieties than that, I assure you. Red, sweet, yellow and more. I know you’ve been poking around trying to find our secrets.” Nate remained friendly and relaxed in his expression, managing to hide his alarm. Moira wasn’t just poking fun at his hunt for vegetables and clean seeds. She knew he’d been in places he probably shouldn’t have. How long had she been watching him? “I only figured that I’d be a kind soul and bring our would-be Director a little offering. Call it a show of gratitude for everything you’ve done for us.”

“So, you’re sucking up.”

“Never! This is nothing but a sincere gift from me to you, though I’d be lying if I didn’t say that maybe I’m hoping to get on your good side,” she grinned. Moira was very expressive, her eyes and mouth and brows moving and curling and coiling in odd ways and angles. “I have many projects that the Director has been ignoring, canceled, or outright refused to approve—projects that you could help me out with. I would be most appreciative.”

“Maybe.” Nate held the potato up as though examining it for something specific. He delicately pressed the fibrous skin with a thumb to test the firmness, deciding that It appeared to be healthy. His imagination began to churn, producing vast images and plans for greenhouses of fresh vegetables. In combination with some of Dr. Li’s technology, he could create warehouses of healthy crops. His mind sparkled and Moira grinned as though seeing them in his eyes and leaned in.

“Do we have a deal?”

Nate put the potato into his bag before she could attempt to snatch it away. “I’d like to know more about this work before I just agree to green-light anything, but I’m interested. I mean, once I’m Director, I could just take whatever I wanted. I don’t need aid. Still, I’m interested in your work, and I’d be happy to see what you have in mind. I love science,” he smiled. “Besides, I can’t say I’ve had the pleasure of getting to know you just yet, Doctor.”

“Excellent.” Moira abruptly stood, abandoning her sad-looking meal and wearing a broad, eerie sort of smile. “Let’s go. I’ll show you my laboratory.”

Nate sighed internally, took a quick bite of what remained of something resembling chocolate pudding and dumped his tray to follow her out of the cafeteria.

Like most places in the Institute, the walk to Moira’s private lab wasn’t a long one. They had to take the elevator to some lower and unlabeled floor, as she preferred to keep out of the way of the ‘primary scientists’, as she liked to call them. Dr. O’Deorain yammered for the entire walk to her lab, mostly about genetics, synths and nanites. She did drop Gabriel’s alias once or twice, always calling him Reaper, and mentioned that she’d developed his unique strain of FEV and nanite technologies, only barely mentioning the help she received in doing it. Clearly, she was a vain and arrogant woman who was incredibly keen to share in her work, but it didn’t bother Nate. He was genuinely interested in most forms of science and was curious to get a better idea of some of the stranger experiments going on at the Institute, which most of the scientists avoided discussing. It looked that Dr. O’Deorain was the primary source of the faction’s more questionable research, which got him wondering just how deep the rabbit hole went as she flashed her badge and the door to her office unlocked.

The lab was much messier than most of the others Nate had seen. Well, messy might not be the right word. Chaotic? There were stacks of books, magazines and manila folders scattered around the room, alongside a variety of tools, notepads, bottles, vials and other such things, but everything struck him as having its own sort of unruly structure. He could relate to it; see it; appreciate it.

“Looks a bit like my place,” he commented.

Moira shut the door and sat at her terminal to review some notes flashing over the screen as Nate walked around the lab, careful not to mess with anything that he did not immediately place back. The woman hummed with some appreciation for his show of respect for her things. “That’s refreshing, if true. Most don’t care enough to understand my sense of order.”

“Yeah, that’s relatable. My partner is the anal retentively organized and tidy sort. He hates how I put things in certain places and says it doesn’t make sense. Makes perfect sense to me. I know exactly where everything is. I’m always having to put things back from people moving my crap where they think it belongs and it drives me insane.”

Moira barked a laugh and turned her chair to grin, leaning back in a relaxed and open position. Most of the scientists here were prim and proper, and entirely fixated on appearing professional, but Dr. O’Deorain clearly didn’t care about any of that. She was a wildcard; someone who only cared about their own interests and doing science in whatever way they preferred. “I’m glad to find a kindred spirit, then. I knew that I’d like you. You were always an interesting little creature to read about, but it’s fascinating to get to meet you in person.”

Being called a ‘little creature’ should have probably bothered Nate more than it did, but Moira struck him as a woman who referred to everyone in such derogatory terms and he chose not to take it personally. “You could have met me earlier,” he offered. “I’ve been here a little while now.”

“Yes, yes, but you were always ‘so busy’ with hoards of chatty nimrods. Besides, there wasn’t any way to be sure if you were worth any social investment. You could have very well just turned on or abandoned us.”

Nate grunted a small noise and grinned. “True,” he shrugged.

“So you’re definitely staying, then?”

“I guess I am,” he lied through a smile. Nate could tell that he’d either fooled her or that she was better at lying than he was reading. “I can do more good this way, I think. You have so much technology that I’d be stupid not to make use of it. If that means leading the damn place or being it’s lackey in place of Kellogg, well, at least we all benefit from the arrangement. It’s practical.”

“Yes. It is quite practical,” she purred. “Does this mean that you plan to become the next Director, then? I heard it was a surprise to you as much as to the others.”

“That’s what Shaun wants,” he sighed. “It’s…a lot, and I admittedly don’t know much in the way of running a place like this, but I do have experience in organizing and leading operations and managing others. I don’t need to be a doctor or scientist to do that, and I can learn over time about the rest. Get those instincts grown in, you know? I’m a quick learner. Besides, maybe I could become a real engineer or get involved in the synth programs. They’re very interesting.”

Moira studied him again with her almost alien eyes before clapping her hands together. “Well! That’s excellent to hear! I, for one, was over the moon to hear about your being named as the next Director. We need more new blood around here. Someone who isn’t a part of the politics or ‘office drama’. Someone who isn’t so trained in a singular field that they can’t see the benefits of others. Most of the people here disregard my research simply because they don’t understand it or like it. They say I’m unethical,” she rolled her eyes. “But you—you understand. You’ve had to kill people to survive. You know that things aren’t always black and white. Those of us who exist in the grey deserve just as much recognition.”

“Right. So, what exactly do you do, if I may ask? I know you mentioned the genetics and nanites.”

“Yes! Primarily those things, and the combination therein. I’ve also dabbled heavily in chemistry, pathology, and other things linked to my work. Reaper is a combination, the culmination, of decades of work. I would very much like to have him returned to me.”

“Sorry, but I’m not his boss and I’m not about to try and catch him.”

Moira snorted. “You could bother to try.”

“No thanks. But it’s amazing what you did to him. Jack said that you changed him after he died?”

“Yes. Reaper’s mind was still in a healthy enough state not mostly be restored, at least, and the nanites restored everything else in combination with FEV, the nanites, and other factors. I can prepare you a paper, if you’d like a full analysis and breakdown of the process.”

“I’d like that.”

“Really?”

“Definitely. It sounds fascinating, and I love reading scientific magazines and papers when I can get my hands on them. It’s probably above my paygrade but I’d still like to read it.”

“Oh. Well. Very good, then! I’ll prepare you a report.”

“I’d like anything and everything you’re willing to give me, including all past, current, pending, and future work you’re hoping to get approved. The more excited you get me, the better chance you have of me stamping it.”

Moira’s face flashed into an enthusiastically devilish grin and she leapt up to grab several stacks of folders. “I’ll be back. Don’t mess with any chemicals.” She hurried into another room, with the door hissing shut and locking behind her.

He wasted no time to be nosy.

Nate scanned the lab for any signs of interest, disregarding the most mundane of articles and objects in search of anything of note. He didn’t know Moira very well just yet but 76 had told him enough about her that Nate knew her to be a woman of dedicated secrecy, and he was plenty curious enough to sniff around.

He moved around the room for a solid minute and a half before his blue eyes locked in on a framed letter against the wall, aside a floor-to-ceiling x-ray display, where she’d slapped some sort of magnetic images of skeletal structures with mods and other such things. Nate presumed they were of 76 or Gabriel’s bodies, but he couldn’t be sure from mere silhouettes. He approached the wall and eyed the paperwork that had been so proudly framed. It was a printout of congratulations on her genetic work and named her as the lead on Project Reaper, meaning that it had to be from when she was first being brought into the Institute. But as interesting as the subject matter was, Nate was more interested in the object itself.

His lifted the frame, revealing a scanner beneath—the sorts they used for locked doors. He glanced over his shoulder to where Moira had vanished before quickly pressing his hand to the scanner, knowing that he had full access to everything. Moira could have attempted to rewire the system from this deep in the Institute and she might have even managed to escape detection, but she didn’t strike him as the technological type. The scanner let out a cheerful blip before the x-ray display unlocked and opened on a hinge, revealing a deeper laboratory.

The lower lab was darker than above, but the lights slowly began to flick on, welcoming him with their sterile white glow. It was a small room, comparatively. It could have even once been intended to be a closet or storage area that she’d converted into a proper lab before making an effort to hide the entrance, perhaps to keep 76 and other synths out. The center of the lab had a long steel gurney with small trays and tables around it, tools and items neatly organized atop them. There was a single terminal at an old-fashioned desk that she had to have hauled from even deeper facilities, and it too appeared to be an older model. The main points of interest were three tubes against the wall, two of which looked to hold something while the third was closed with a metal casing, likely not in use.

Nate closed the door behind him and approached the tubes for closer inspection, eager to see whatever she was trying to hide. Inside, he could make out the familiar planes and lines of a humanoid shape, though the one on the far left appeared to be badly damaged. There were a series of buttons along the side of each tube: red, green, and black. He presumed red was closing the container, but seeing as how red universally meant ‘not good’, he chose not to risk testing the theory and instead pressed green. Lights flashed on in the bottom and top of the structure, illuminating a half-destroyed corpse. It was missing about a third of its lower body, with the right thigh, stomach and chest missing most of its flesh and no guts to be spoken of. Nate had seen enough combat to recognize the damage from an up close and personal meeting with a machine gun. He cursed under his breath as he examined the poor sap’s mutilated figure, wincing as he imagined the pain from each hot bullet rending the body, and then nearly gasped when his eyes rose to the man’s face.

Jack.

It was Jack.

The real Jack.

Nate’s eyes squinted and refocused several times in rapid succession as his brain filed through everything he knew about the original Jack Morrison. 76 had explained to him how he’d died, but he’d also explained that Moira had destroyed Jack’s original body—or so she’d claimed.

She’d KEPT it. All of this time and Moira had the original Jack’s corpse just floating in some sort of biofluids. But WHY? Why lie about it? Why hide it? Did Father know? Or did he think the body was disposed of, too?

Nate’s brain rapid-fired questions and attempted to fill the gaps, and he quickly moved to investigate the next container, lighting it up to reveal another Jack, but this one was whole, like 76.

It was a synth. She had another synth of Jack. How? Why?

Nate’s mind lit up as it narrowed in on the answer: this had been a leftover body from the project to create 76. They’d had to make several synthetic bodies of Jack Morrison in case they all been burned out by the SEP serum. Nate had been told they’d used so many of the frames before succeeding with 76’s current one, and then transferred his mind over once sure the body was healthy. This synth had to have been a leftover that hadn’t undergone the serum, or a synth clone that she hadn't put into the system and somehow had kept a secret all of this time. The poor creature was hollow; soulless. But why keep it?

He swung around, raising Deliverer as the door opened.

“Well, well, well,” Moira droned, unbothered even as Nate slowly lowered the weapon. “Aren’t you a snoopy little boy?”

Nate flashed a grin and shrugged, pocketing his weapon. “What can I say? I’ve always been insatiably curious.”

“That you are.” Moira folded her arms and tilted her narrow head, eying Nate with a mild irritation tinged with appreciation. “Some might disapprove of such prying, but I find it refreshing to meet another soul unafraid to probe and pry their peers and environment.”

“It’s important to get a feel for who a person really is and for their secrets. I always like learning about people; finding what they’re hiding.”

“Hmm, yes. We all have our secrets.”

“Why did you keep Jack?”

Dr. O’Deorain sighed and put her long arms behind her back as she stepped down beside him, and they both admired the two blondes in jars. Both were still handsome, despite the original’s twisted features. Nate could still clearly see every detail of Jack’s face, and it still reminded him of his brother’s. He pushed down the remnants of the mental hospital and the sad whispers of Nora’s voice and the black ice of the shattered memories. Now was not the time for such strained reminiscing. He tore his eyes away, studying Moira’s calm expression. “For research, obviously,” she replied, her words were dull and bored. “Mr. Morrison was too interesting a subject to simply discard, though it did me well to report that I had done so to avoid any invasiveness on the part of the other Directors.”

Nate glanced at her. “You never told Shaun?”

Moira rolled her eyes but didn’t look at him. “No. I did not. Will you?”

“I haven’t decided yet. I need to discern whether or not it was justified. If you’re so concerned that Shaun is going to close your work that you had to lie on reports and hide your research, what is it that you deem so important that it was worth the trouble?”

The woman tilted her eyes, not fully dignifying him with her full face but acknowledging the legitimacy of his question. “Father never approved of my continued SEP research. It was an extension of Project Longevity, and was intended to improve upon our Coursers and, ultimately, our citizens. My goal was to create the perfect human specimen. The perfect body capable of withstanding extreme temperatures, damage, pain, hunger, thirst and other such pressures. I wanted to improve upon our forms, as I believe that all scientists truly wish to do, even though many call it ‘mad’ science. Preposterous. You have improvements and modifications, do you not? Do you not believe that a longer life, increased strength and speed and healing abilities all benefit you?”

“They do, but it nearly killed me, and it messed me up in the head.”

Moira fully turned then, her strange eyes and angular features lighting up with a cruel excitement. “Yes, but that can be changed. My serum was an improvement upon the original in every way. Yes, it still damaged the body,” she motioned at the nearly perfect copy of Jack, “but I have improved upon it.”

Nate looked between the scientist and the second remaining copy of Jack. “You mean to tell me that this synth has the serum?”

“Yes, but not the same as yours or even Jack’s. I have been improving upon my formula, as one is meant to do. Yes, it was done in secret. Yes, I lied on my reports. But it was all for this. This body is perfect. It has no damage to the nervous or limbic systems, and no sign of deteriorated grey matter. Had my work been permitted to continue, I would have been able to create a more perfect version of SS-76.”

Nate’s eyes were dark. “Does it have a mind?”

Moira looked to sense his intensity and matched it with a chilled earnestness. “No. It does not. I wasted the potential of this project on SS-76, remember? I can create new memories but they would not be a complete person, as SS-76 is. They would have to learn how to be whoever I—we—chose them to be. The whole original point of my SEP work was to create an improved Courser. No more of this nonsense of picking random synths with personalities we can utilize, only to discover they lack the physical or mental mandates of Courser work. This synth would be the perfect hunter. It is stronger, smarter, faster, and more capable than a Courser in every way.”

The x-rays… They weren’t of 76 or Reyes at all… “You gave him modifications?”

“Of course I did. He’s equipped with every modification that SS-76 has, and then some.”

Nate scoffed and took a step back, nearly bumping into the gurney. Moira hawked at him, stalking his movements and responses with an indescribable intensity, and Nate suddenly felt small, like he was back in the mental hospital. Images and feelings flashed haphazardly through his mind and he snorted and shook his head to chase them away, struggling against his damaged mind to keep the demons at bay as he felt the anxiety beginning to build.

“I could fix you.”

Nate somehow managed to not jerk. “What?”

Moira bounced a long-nailed finger at him, chattering quickly as she swiftly moved towards her desk and sat down. “I can fix you,” she repeated, this time with grounded determination. “I’ve developed the correct serum, you see? It’s perfect. Absolutely perfect! But Father and those ignorant dolts would never permit me to test it properly. Fools! They’re blinded to that this means. But you—you can see. You understand. You know the pain of the burning, don’t you? The way the serum ruins you.” He watched her, silent and unmoving as she rolled her chair towards a small workstation and got to pushing buttons, cautious not to allow himself to be overwhelmed and swallowed whole by the hope boiling in his stomach. “I’ve performed a miracle, Mr. Washington. I can fix what has been broken.” A small, box-shaped machine sitting on the table began to beep. Moira tapped her fingers against the white, stale metal of her desk, staring hungrily at the machine until it made a long, high-pitched sound and produced a vial from its base. She scooped it up and presented it to him while madly grinning, her wild eyes glinting as the vial of vermilion liquid bubbled and settled. He very carefully reached out to accept the item, turning the small bauble in his hands as though he understood what he was looking at. Was this it? Could this really make him whole again? “That is the serum that can undo everything. It reverses the effects of the original SEP serum.”

Nate’s head lifted and Moira’s eyelids drooped, knowing that she had his full attention. “You can remove the SEP effects?”

“I can,” she purred. “It is complex, of course. It would remove the chemical aspects of the serum in your blood. Obviously, it cannot remove your modifications, nor can it restore lost memories, but once the old serum has been cleansed from your body, I would provide you with the new one. You would be stronger. Faster. Smarter. Sharper. Improved in every meaningful way imaginable to a human! And the fuzz the old serum had would be gone. No more intrusive thoughts. No more chill. No more risk of further memory loss or bouts of madness.”

“How do you know about that?”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes and leaned back in her chair, waving her hand. “I spent years with SS-76. I knew him very well, and he confided in me all about his emotional static. He thought it had come from Jack, but no. The serum was to blame. The side-effect was not my intention, nor was I aware it was a problem from the first experiments. At least, not that it would be carried over into my own. Not all of my subjects showed such damage. Reyes had no problems whatsoever, while Jack hid his side-effects. There were some with…obvious issues, of course, but those were not the norm. I advanced the formula but it wasn’t yet perfect. But my new serum is ideal.”

“How could you possibly be so sure about any of that? You put the new serum into that synth, sure, but you said that he has no brain. You can’t be positive he isn’t damaged in ways you can’t detect.”

“True,” she admitted, “but I have closely monitored his brain patterns and form, and I can say with absolute confidence that It has suffered no damage. I assure you that the new formula is perfect.”

Nate grunted and shifted in place. “So what? You want to use me as some sort of a guinea pig? Your first proper test subject?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. It’s only an offer, Mr. Washington,” Moira shrugged. “Just know that I’m your best chance at a normal life. All that I ask is a sample of your blood and one teensy-weensy medical exam.”

“What? Why?”

“Because you’re a fascinating subject, of course. It would also do me well to have a sample of your DNA to run digital tests against my enhanced SEP formula to test reactions and the like, and to know what sorts oddities that your body has. It’s necessary for the upgrade, you see. I give my word that I would do you no harm. It’s just some blood and a basic exam. Scans and measurements and all of that. I’m sure you’ve suffered far worse.”

Nate pressed his lips together and flicked the vial back towards her. Moira caught it with ginger ease and set it down upon her desk. “I’ll consider it, but you’re really putting yourself at risk to hide this from Shaun. He’d lose his head if he knew about it.”

“Yes, well, that’s exactly why we’re going to shut our mouths, aren’t we? If he learns, your opportunity to heal your mind is lost and I will have to deal with an invasion of privacy. Speak nothing of this and the offer stands.”

“I want Jack.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. I want Jack’s original body.”

“Why?”

“Because he deserves a proper burial.”

Moira snorted and waved her hand dismissively. “Sentimental nonsense. But fine. I’m finished with his remains. If you insist upon having him, you may, but only if you give your word not to expose me.”

“Done.” He took a single step and they shook hands.

Moira sighed a breath, feigning some sense of loss and motioning at the damaged body. “I’ve grown fond of seeing him, you know. It seems a shame to dump him in some grave to be forgotten.”

Nate looked up at the remains, frowning to himself. “He was a person, Dr. O’Deorain, not an object. He deserves to be buried. We’ll put him in one of the small shipping containers. I’ll sneak him out.”

Moira scoffed. “You say that with such confidence.”

“I’ve already smuggled crates of supplies and goods out without being questioned. I have plenty of authority here. It will be fine. Drain the tank and I’ll get a box.”

“Yes sir, Director.”

He ignored her sarcasm, still staring into the stranger’s milky, half-lidded eyes.

It was time to bring Jack home.

It was time to put him to rest.

Angela pushed some of her hair behind an ear and reached into the crate Thomas had brought her, grabbing a handful of mentats to place against the growing stack. Hanco*ck had sent them practically a lifetime’s worth of medical chems and Thomas had spent the entirety of the day filing through and organizing and labeling them for storage and handling. She’d bullied the redhead to go to bed about an hour ago and had promised to find rest after putting a crate of drugs away. She was on her fourth crate. So much for that.

“You’re up a little late.”

She squeaked in surprise and glared daggers as Nate appeared in the doorway, holding up his hands apologetically as her nerves settled. “You really do need to wear a bell around your neck. You and Reyes both.”

“Sorry. I’m used to being soft-footed.” Nate sat down in a wooden office chair flanking the box of goods and peered inside. “Ah—Hanco*ck’s stuff?” he guessed.

Angela sighed, still recovering from being startled this late, and grabbed another handful of chems to stuff neatly into the metal shelf. It had a grated door that she could use to keep everything locked up, which was important for a place with so many settlers coming in and out. Virtually no one could be trusted. “Yes. He sent quite a lot of items and I just figured I’d put some away. We’re storing what we can here, for immediate access. Thomas finished the count this evening. Hanco*ck was extremely generous.”

“He believes in the cause of good people,” Nate smirked and handed her a shoebox sized container of stimpacks, which she put in their place, and then offered another. “I have Jack’s original body.”

She nearly fumbled the box as he was handing it to her. Angela stared wide-eyed at the soldier in open alarm, but Nate’s gaze was tilted, clearly uncertain and uncomfortable. “You…what? Did you say that you have Jack’s body? How? That’s impossible. Dr. O’Deorain destroyed it.”

“No, she didn’t. She hid it from everyone and said that she destroyed it. She’s been using it to run experiments or something. I’m…not clear on the full details just yet, but I have a report to review. The damn thing’s like a tome. It’ll be a hot minute. I found his body when she was showing me around her lab. It was a whole thing, but she eventually gave him up so long as I kept quiet about it.”

Angela swallowed and put a clenched hand to her chest, feeling her nerves fraying again. “You’re certain?”

Nate nodded and replied with a quiet, “I am.”

“I…see. Where is he?”

“I placed him in a cryogentic container normally meant for food. Basically an ice box. He’s been stored in the warehouse for now, until I can speak with 76 and Gabriel about how they want to proceed. I just figured I’d tell you, so you didn’t get angry that you didn’t know, or something. Maybe you could tell them for me,” he suggested, suddenly much meeker than she ever recalled him even being capable of. Nate rubbed his elbows and bit his lip. “I don’t really know how to talk to them about something so personal. I just figured they’d want to bury him. Give Jack a proper funeral. He deserves it and so do they. Might do them good.”

“Y-yeah… I’ll…see what I can do. This is…very kind of you, Nate. Thank you. I never met the original Jack but I know what he meant to Gabriel. It would be good to give him some closure.”

“You should also know that Moira has another synth copy of him,” his words were nearly a whisper, spoken leaned in and hushed like they had the power to destroy the world. And they just very well might. Angela could feel her throat close up with the revelation and the implications, her mind a whirlwind of questions. “It isn’t active and has no mind to speak of. It’s a leftover from her project to create 76. I guess he’s SS-77? She didn’t refer to it with any alias. But let’s just keep this little detail between us, maybe. I don’t want Gabriel to freak out.”

“Yes… That’s…a good idea,” she agreed, also whispering. Angela sat down in her chair, bracing her weight with a hand to the back to ensure that she didn’t just fumble into it, knowing that she’d lost her balance. “That’s… Moira… She’s a monster.”

“She just kept an extra. I don’t think that qualifies her to be a monster. Seems she’s acting within reason, by her ideas, anyway.”

“No. Whatever she has planned, it’s nothing good. You must destroy it. You must destroy that synth before she wakes it up and it causes mayhem.”

“What? No. Angela, you’re being a bit dramatic. I’ll make sure it’s secure, and if I think something’s up, I’ll report her. It’s simple.”

“She could hurt people with that synth! Especially if no one knows it even exists!”

Nate put up a hand to hush her and Angela bit back her growing rage, clenching her jaws when thinking of the poor creature trapped in Moira’s labs. Mind or not, it was alive, and it was her personal plaything. It filled Angela with enough rage that she could melt mountains with a drop of it. “I promise that nothing will happen. I’m going to review her work and I’ll come up with a plan. The synth doesn’t deserve to be destroyed just because she has it. It’s helpless.”

“Did she do anything to it?” Angela demanded. “Did she perform experiments?”

“Yes.”

“And?”

“She created an enhanced version of her old SEP formula and used it on the body. She says it’s perfect and didn’t harm the synth in any meaningful way. She claims it’s stronger than 76 and its mind wouldn’t be emotionally damaged in any way, like Jack and mine were. She wants to give the serum to me next.”

Angela jerked her head, whiplashed. “WHAT?”

“She created some sort of…cure…for the original SEP serum… She wants to use it on me and give me the new one.”

“That’s INSANE! Tell me you didn’t agree to this! Nate, everything, literally everything, that Moira does is for her own curiosity and furthering her research! Even if what she says is true, whatever she does to you will be under her complete and full control! You cannot allow her to do anything to you! Don’t let her tempt you! She’s evil!”

Nate put both of his hands on her shoulders and hushed her yet again, calming Angela down with gentle words and reassurances. “I’m not going to go along with it. You’re right. Dr. O’Deorain is selfish, through and through. I’m not sure whatever she offers would even work. The only benefit would be to fix my head.”

“Whatever she’s created, I can do. Bring me her notes.”

“She didn’t give me any formulas.”

“I don’t care. Just bring me whatever she gave you.”

Nate sighed but nodded once and pat her shoulder before he stood. “I’ll bring them by tomorrow, alright? Please get some rest. You’re exhausted.”

“The pot calling the kettle black,” she grumbled and he grinned, shining a small burst of genuine joy down upon her.

“True. But please promise me that you won’t sit here until dawn?”

“I—yes. I’ll go to bed now. This…has given me a lot to think about.”

Nate frowned, realizing how much he’d unnerved her. “Yeah… Sorry for that. I didn’t mean to ruin your night.”

Angela stood and locked the shelf up, stuffing her keys back into the pockets of her jeans, and offered a tired smile. “Don’t apologize. I’m glad that you told me. Thank you. I’ll speak with Gabriel and 76 about the situation tomorrow. Have a good evening.”

“You too, Doctor.” Nate meandered out of the room and Angela moved to the door to watch him vanish around the road, heading back towards his house. She sighed and locked the front door before padding towards her shack to try and get some sleep.

There was a lot to think about, but she wouldn’t be getting a full night’s rest.

“JACK!”

76 cracked an eye at the urgency in the voice, muffled by sleep but still recognizably Tom’s. He groaned and pinched the bridge of his nose as he shifted to check his watch. It was barely four in the morning. The sun had yet to rise through a half-open window, and the breeze sent chills through his body, cutting through his thin blankets on the couch. “Yes?” he croaked and palmed the heel of a hand at his eye.

“We need your help!” Tom was anchored in the frame of his doorway, panting and wide-eyed.

Jack leapt from the bed and tugged his coat over his undershirt, lunging to check his rifle for ammunition.“Are we under attack?”

“It’s Gabriel!”

His entire body clenched. “What’s going on?” Gabriel had stayed up most of the night talking to Preston and Widow about a variety of things pertaining to her recovery. Widow had chosen to primarily stay in Sanctuary with Preston, when he was in town, and Gabriel’s instincts remained to babysit her until he was sure she was alright, so he’d stayed overnight, choosing to rest only god knew where. 76 had slept on Nate’s couch, allowing their other guests to sleep in the guest beds until Reyes’ place was ready for them, which should be soon.

“I think he’s having a night terror,” Tom explained quickly over 76’s sharp curses. “I think he’s sleep walking! If we can’t stop him, he could kill someone!”

“NO, NO, NO!” 76 rushed past Tom and into the yard, where he spotted Angela on the ground, cradling her side. She was still in her pajamas, having undoubtedly rushed from her bed to chase Reyes down. “Angela! sh*t! Are you all right?” 76 and Tom rushed to her side as the blonde continued to frantically searched for signs of Gabriel. “Did he hurt you?”

“I’m all right,” she winced and forced a smile that he didn’t believe for a second was legitimate. “I just came to see what was going on when I heard someone scream and saw him. He doesn’t have his weapons. He just shoved me when I tried to ask him what was going on. 76, be careful… He’s lost in…something… In his head… He’s…confused. He may hurt you. Just…make sure he stays away from the settlers, if possible. Luckily barely anyone is awake yet.”

“I’ll look after her,” Tom promised.

“Thank you. Where is he?”

She motioned weakly down the road. “He was moving towards the bridge.”

76 nodded and scanned the horizon, desperately searching for a familiar shape in the dark. He pulled his visor on and detected a cold shadow moving through the dark, his V.A.T.S. locking into it and guiding his way. “Get inside,” he barked before jetting off.

76 cursed as he dashed towards the shape, his legs not nearly long enough to move him as fast as he needed. He leapt over rubble and trash on the concrete as he made the desperate dash towards Reaper, who was wraithing around the front gates of the settlement, a dense black fog meandering aimlessly. He was almost too quick to catch in this form, but 76’s screams got his attention. “REYES! REYES, WAIT!” How the hell fog could glower at someone, he had no idea, but hell if it didn’t do just that. Reaper hesitated long enough for 76 to catch up, and then moved around as though studying him. “Reyes, please…” He held his hands up placating. “Come inside. Do you understand me?” The shadows hissed and snarled and ghosted closer, tendrils of black waving and snaking about with movement that had 76 take a few steps backwards. “Your name is Gabriel Reyes,” he spoke as calmly and non-threatening as possible. “You worked for the Institute but you’re here now, in Sanctuary. It’s late February and freaking four in the morning and cold as hell, so how about we go inside and get you in bed before you hurt anyone, all right?” The fog responded by lunging towards him and 76 leapt back. “Okay, alright… I can see you’re a bit cranky this morning.” He continued to step backwards, moving towards the empty guard house. “If you want to fight, that’s fine, but how about we take this somewhere a bit warmer, hm?”

“Jaaack…” the cloud snarled low and hollow and furious.

“No,” 76 shook his head. “Not Jack—76.”

The form shifted, changing into a more humanoid shape as it approached. Somehow, this was more threatening than the damn ball of fog. The base of his legs fell like a robe of black tentacles, writhing and curling and wisping about, floating over the gravel to cross into the guard house 76 had lured him to. “KILL…” The slits acted as the creature’s eyes shimmered feverishly, malice drizzling in pure black as the ghost opened its gnarling maw. “I’m going to KILL you…”

“If that’s what you want.” The back of 76’s calves touched an old resting couch and he permitted himself to drop back into it, allowing the form to leer over him. “Whatever you want.”

The ghost hissed and snapped its jaws in 76’s face, the fog almost solid at the mouth of fangs. It exhaled rotten breath against the synth’s nose, but 76 made certain to keep his cool, staring the hesitating beast down as it struggled to take shape.“You remember that time Jesse put fireworks under your bed?” 76 grinned at the memory, allowing it to fade into view. Out of respect, he rarely thought much about Jack’s past, but Jack’s memories, these precious things, could Gabriel to reality.

The shadow leered and snarled, its many eyes pulsing a heated red, and the chill of its presence loomed closer, threatening to envelope 76 whole, but didn’t.

“Christ, the sound you made when he shot that thing off was priceless. I don’t think Jesse’s ever run so fast in those damn boots of his. Jack thought you were going to beat him to death with his own hat,” the synth snickered weakly, keeping his blue eyes the wraith. He very carefully moved his hand to remove his visor and stared directly into the monster’s red eyes, vulnerable but confident. “You didn’t sleep for days. Jesse was always a little troublemaker.”

The figure steadily shifted and shrank, the shapes of the shadowy tendrils calming and withdrawing until they’d smoothed back into the familiar dark planes and lines of Reaper’s figure. His mask missing and exposing his grey, scarred face, his eyes still glowing red as whatever was haunting him withdrew. Reaper’s scarred lips were ajar as he breathed in ragged, hitched breaths, exposing the whites of his mouth full of fangs.

76 very carefully moved a hand to hook around the man’s back to guide him closer. Reaper allowed it, still dazed and lost in some distant memory or dream, the reds of his eyes only beginning to flicker and dull back into a milky, undead white. “You have a real way of picking the assholes out of a crowd, don’t you?”

“Jack,” the word was strained, exhausted, and followed by clawed hands on the synth’s face as Reaper leaned forward with some intention, but his weight nearly gave out, only caught when 76 grabbed him.

The wraith grumbled and growled as he was handled, 76 hushing him and gently maneuvering the mercenary’s bulk so reaper was on the couch with him. Gabriel nearly went limp, his body shivering and his muscles twitching and jerking as he struggled against sleep, but was lulled into silence as 76 pet his hair and rubbed circles into the thick fabric on his back, where he knew Gabriel had a clear patch of scarless skin.

“Shh… You’re okay,” 76 exhaled and hugged the sleeping form closer. He’d probably regret it in the morning, or whenever the man woke, but he’d cross the bridge when it came. “You’re safe… I won’t let you go,” he promised. But Reyes was already asleep, lost to his nightmares again, and 76 could only hope he’d at least chased one of them away.

For a moment, 76 chose to forget that he was a cheap copy of Jack Morrison, hoping that maybe, someday, this could be real, and that he could make up for both their mistakes, in full. In the meantime, the synth was content to act as bait and anchor to keep Gabriel with him like that, for just a few more hours, grounding them both somewhere between the past and dreams and reality.

“Please tell me you didn’t f*ck.” 76’s eyelids twitched before cracking enough to sleepily glower up at Sombra, hands on her hips as she offered up a mischievous, toothy grin. “The last thing I need in my life is the knowledge of who Gabriel’s going around nailing to walls or whatever. I mean, he’s literally nailed a few people to walls before, but this is way worse.”

“SHH. You’ll wake him.”

Gabriel was still out cold, still spread out on top of 76, heavy and cold but oddly comforting in the way his weight anchored him to the couch. His chest very slowly rose and fell and 76 could feel the unsteady beat of the ex-Courser’s damaged heart pulse against him. It would be pretty damn relaxing if it weren’t for the fact that he could hardly breathe and his left arm was completely numb, trapped at an odd angle on his waist under Gabriel’s bulk of muscle and metal. Still, as uncomfortable as the position was, he didn’t want to interrupt the rare moment of quiet. For the first time in a long time, he was peaceful, and 76 wasn’t about to allow anything to interrupt it. He’d suffocate under him before that.

Sombra flit her purple eyes across her commander’s serene expression. “How long has he been like this?” her voice level dropped, the cattiness drained from it.

“I don’t know. He’s sort of crushing my watch into my hip,” the synth gruffed uncomfortably. “What time is it?”

“Two-ish?”

“It’s been ten hours?”

“Yup. Nate had to get the guards to sort of just go around you,” she snorted, “but it’s probably for the best. I don’t think Gabe’s slept this long since the time Moira tried to give him wings. He could barely keep solid for three days, after that mess. Guy could use a nap.”

They settled into silence and 76 could make out the larger man’s raspy, shallow, but steady breaths as the air blew against the shell of his ear, sending chills through his back. Gabriel could really use a damn mint.

“So…” she trialed and flashed a mischievous grin. “Did you two talk?”

“He doesn’t want to talk.”

“Por favor… Gabe’s such a big baby,” she scoffed. “He won’t talk with anyone unless they force him to. I know you don’t trust me but take my advice, Jackie: you need to be more assertive. If you’re commanding enough, he’ll listen to you. Or just…put on a lab coat,” she offered a sarcastic smile. “Maybe you could scare him into talking to you.”

“That’s not funny, Sombra. At all.”

“I’m just saaaying,” she emphasized with a roll of her wrist, “that he listens to doctors.”

“Yeah, and we both know why that is.”

The hacker shrugged and moved to walk from the house, glancing back over her shoulder. “You’re the only one who can fix him, you know. Nobody can get through to him like you can.”

“I wouldn’t put much stake in that. He still hates me.”

“You take him way too seriously. Hate’s Gabe’s way of showing he likes you. Like a stupid niño with a crush on a girl and so he tugs her hair. Except in Gabe’s case, he shoots you through the foot and threatens to kill, kill, kill you.”

76 snorted. “That sounds about right, actually.”

“He wouldn’t be here with you if he didn’t trust you. And believe me when I say that means a hell of a lot.”

“Yeah. I know it does,” the synth sighed and stared up at the damaged ceiling. “He trusted me once.”

“Twice,” her correction made him flinch. “Do us all a damn favor and don’t mess it up this time, okay?” she flashed him a bright, sarcastic grin and Jack rolled his eyes a little.

“I’m trying not to,” he promised, more to Gabriel than to her. “I’m not leaving.”

“Good. Because you do it again and I’ll have to kill you,” she smiled and waved her manicured nails before skipping out the door and into the neon sun, closing it quietly behind her.

76 had no clue what time it was when he felt Gabriel move. He’d tried to stay awake, content to listen to the man’s husky but peaceful breathing, but the wraith’s heart pulsing at an irregular rhythm against his chest had lulled him back into a light sleep.

76 cursed when he felt a metal knee press into his thigh as the wraith shifted his weight. “Where the hell am I…?” Gabriel growled groggily into the side of 76’s face.

“Five more minutes,” 76 mumbled, his eyes still closed. His brain was still heavy with the haze of a sleep that went on far longer than it should have.“sh*t! Anyone ever tell you that you’re heavy?” he groaned as Gabriel sat up, freeing his arm. The synth half-opened his eyes to watch Reaper glance listlessly around the room, gathering his bearings.

“Sanctuary,” the word was drenched with relief. “Right… I stayed in Sanctuary for the night.”

“Yes, and then you were sleepwalking.” 76’s arm was still heavy and numb, the tingling shooting through his fingers and forearm. He sat up, bracing against the warped shape of the couch’s arm. “You attacked Angela.”

“Is she alive?” 76 knew him well enough to hear the concern in Gabriel’s gravelly voice.

“She’s okay. It was nothing serious, but you gave all of us a scare.”

Gabriel offered a weak grunt. “So…what?” He squinted, his eyes still bleary with the last grains of sleep. “You heroically wrestled me onto a couch?”

“Something like that,” 76 yawned and ran a hand through his hair. It was sticking up in every direction imaginable, and he imagined he looked like trash. Gabriel’s peppery hair tousled and long and all over the place. He was damn beautiful.

The wraith pressed his lips together. “Hm. We didn’t f*ck, did we?”

“You know, that’s the second time I’ve been accused that today, but no.”

“Good. Now I don’t have to cut you off at the waist.”

“How chivalrous. I actually lured you in here with the promise of killing me and managed to talk you down. Then you just sort of collapsed on top of me and passed the hell out. Maybe you were trying to smother me to death.”

Gabriel snorted. “You could have just moved me, you know.”

76 rolled and flexed his arm, the tingling getting stronger as his muscles woke up. “You weigh like half a ton.”

“The great super-synth couldn’t move a few hundred pounds off him?” Gabriel teased. “Sounds like you need to hit the weights.”

“I had nowhere else to be,” 76 grinned. “Besides, if I’d moved, it could have woken you from your damn coma, and you needed the rest. I know your body’s still making adjustments to being off those co*cktails Moira had you on.”

Reaper released another snort but there was no heat behind it. “I feel like sh*t.” The comment hung in the air for a good minute.

“Are you in pain?”

“Always.”

“Are you just trying to be dramatic or are you being serious?”

“Ganon came up with some stuff that’s supposed to help. It’s been more…tolerable.”

76 frowned. “Can they up your dosage or something?”

“I’m fine.”

“Obviously not, if you’re having nightmares so bad you’re sleepwalking and turning into a smoke monster and scaring the pants off half the damn town.”

“I’m FINE,” Gabriel turned to storm out. “Mind your own business.”

“Reyes, wait!” 76 leapt from the couch, hesitant to try to reach for him, but Gabriel hesitated at the door, his clawed hand on the handle.

“What is it?”

“How did you sleep?”

Reaper stared at the door for a few seconds before turning the handle. “Better than I have since before you left the first time,” he murmured before stepping into the moonlight and vanishing in abrupt wisps of black.

76 fell back on the couch, pressing his face in his hands and exhaling a shaky breath.

They still had a long way to go, but this was a step forward.