Chapter Text
Emogene passed away this morning. The local doctor concurred with my assessment that it was simply old age. There will be a small funeral held tonight and she'll be buried in the town's cemetery. I would have liked to have brought her back to the family crypt in Boston, but I fear that I myself don't have much longer. It is very likely by the time this letter reaches you, I too will have finally gone to my reward. After four hundred years, I think I'm ready. I'm just so tired now.
It matters little in this day and age, but should the old bureaucracy return to make a nuisance of itself again in future, I'm enclosing the combination to the manor safe in our usual cipher. Inside will be all the documents you could possibly need to officially hold claim on the remaining Cabot properties. Consider it recompense, such as it is, for the centuries of dedicated service to me and my family, and my thanks.
Sincerely,
Jack
Sighing, Deegan refolded the paper and slid it back into the envelope, and leaned forward to rest his elbows on the desk. The letter's date had been from three months prior; the last Cabot was most likely gone now as well.
It hurt more than he thought it would. He'd gotten used to the Cabots' immortality. Taken it for granted that he would always be their manservant; that they'd outlive him. He'd failed to realize the possibility that one day it would be gone. Nothing lasts forever.
He rubbed a hand over his eyes and sighed again.
"Excuse me, Master Deegan," Sebastian said tentatively.
Deegan glanced over at the Mr. Handy, suddenly realizing that the robot had not left the room since delivering the letter. It had been a strange experience watching the patrol-bot-turned-butler slowly develop a personality over the past several months. It boggled his mind even now to see the droop of his eyestalks, looking for all the world like he was nervous.
"I do not wish to make assumptions, sir, but you seem to be very put out by that letter. Is there anything I can do for you?"
"No, Sebastian." As an afterthought, he added, "Thank you."
"As you say, sir." The reply was much more subdued, and his eyestalks fell even further, making the robot look and sound downright depressed. "I shall leave you to your night's routine, then. Please do call on me if you should need anything."
Was he... pouting... again? Deegan wondered as he watched Sebastian hover out of the room and close the door behind him. Then stopped himself short, realizing he was now thinking of the robot as a he. He would happily blame it on simply being exhausted and emotionally drained, except he knew better. It was because Nora treated the Mr. Handy like a real person.
He shook his head. He didn't want to think about her right now. And he didn't want to think about Jack's letter. There would be time enough tomorrow, next week, or even next month to deal with the Cabots' estate. He needed sleep.
Pushing away the hollow feeling in his chest, he stood up, clicked off the lamp, and shuffled over to the bed. Kicking off his boots, he unceremoniously dropped onto the mattress with a tired groan.
The house was too quiet.
Reaching out to the opposite side of the bed, he laid his hand against the mattress where Nora would be, spreading his fingers wide.
It's been too long.
He grabbed the pillow and pulled it against his chest.
Impossible, but he could almost imagine it still smelled like her.
~
Nora bit her lip against the breeze coming up off the lake, trying to ignore the chill it was determined to set in her bones and concentrate on panning her rifle's scope across the road and entrance of Parsons Insane Asylum. The top level of the Slog's diving platforms had no protection from either wind or rain, but the height was perfect to get a clear view over the hedges and short wall that obscured the front doors from a ground view.
Preston's report from the earlier attack on the Coastal Cottage had been mostly positive; only minor damage and no civilian casualties. Her turret systems and the squad of Minutemen had made short work of the raiders that continued to attack despite being overwhelmed. Several had escaped, though, retreating back to their nest in Parsons.
Nora counted five, some injured, being greeted by the sentries. That brought the total to at least twenty she could confirm, even with the dead from old man Finch's Farm and Greentop. No doubt there had to be more inside.
The sun had set an hour ago, and now the movement was dying down. Lowering her sniper rifle, she continued to stare at the massive pre-war structure.
"So what do I do...?" she whispered to herself, thinking out loud. "They would have explored the facility enough to have the home advantage. Too many places to hide... Too many places to set an ambush... We'd be sitting ducks if I tried going in with any of my men, but I can't take that many alone."
Distracted by the ache in her arm from holding her weapon so still for so long, she reached up to slide a hand under her vault suit's collar and rub at the shoulder muscle. And then she smiled as her fingertips brushed over the small, slightly raised, but smooth mark she felt there.
She had let the bite wound Deegan had inadvertently left on her during his heat scar on purpose, wanting to have something of him to remember him by. Not that she'd ever forget him. She was just sentimental, she guessed, and gone were the days of photographs and lockets.
God, she missed him.
She realized that Deegan would be the best option to help her with Parsons. He knew the layout and was well-trained. Together, the two of them would stand a far better chance than even her full army of Minutemen. But...
"It's been too long," she sighed up at the stars.
She looked down at her Pip-Boy, noting the date. She'd been called out to assist virtually nonstop, crisscrossing the Commonwealth so many times, she was in competition with Preston over who was keeping the Castle's cobbler the busiest. And now, it had been almost a full month since she'd last seen him.
"I should have gone back sooner."
She really had no other choice, though. She was ashamed that it had to be like this, but she knew that she had to make the call.
She just hoped that he would answer.