Chapter Text
Home is when I'm with you.
Nate wouldn’t trade this life out for anything, out in the Commonwealth with Danse and Shaun. Even if his old life would've been amazing, he found greater benefits living out in the Commonwealth. More freedom, as he'd expressed to Danse earlier, was one of them. He never thought that he could feel this way about a man before. Let alone a synth, a robot. Past Nate used to think that artificial consciousness couldn't be possible. After meeting Danse and experiencing it first-hand, he changed. It's possible.
It's been a week since Nate, Danse, and Shaun moved into the house. It's as good as new. They worked on reapplying coats of paint and replacing furniture. If they kept on keeping on, they would surely live in that house for many years. They'd surely have to defend from raiders, super mutants, and others, so Nate would have to remember to place turrets up outside. Even if the Commonwealth is safer, it's still dangerous. Possibly not enough for them to let their guard down for long. At least they can rest easy.
"You're up early today. Any plans for the day?" Danse asked when Nate walked down the stairs.
"I think I might set up some turrets today. You can never be too safe." Nate answered after a yawn.
"Good idea. Want anything for breakfast? You still need your meals, even if I may not. I've already gotten the cooking pot ready." Danse said.
"What is there?"
"Well... we have some radstag meat, mutant hound meat, and brahmin meat."
"So much meat, how did we get it all?" Nate asked, to which Danse only shrugged. "Well, the only one that sounds half good is radstag meat... Do you even know how to cook?"
"I've been forced to cook a few times. Those times when I had nothing else to eat on missions."
"Maybe we should get Codsworth out here." Nate chuckled.
"Oh, come on. I'm sure it's not that bad."
"You're right. Where's the kid?" Nate asked, following Danse outside to the cooking pot.
"He wanted to go to Sanctuary, so I took him. I hope you don't mind." Danse answered, pouring ingredients into the cast-iron pot over a raging flame.
"Not at all. It's great for him to have kids his age to play with. How's everyone there doing?"
"They seemed fine."
Nate watched as the flame flickered underneath the pot, enticing it to boil after a few minutes. It didn't look bad and it didn't smell bad, so it probably wasn't going to taste bad. And after the meal was dished out into three separate bowls, Nate concurred that it, in fact, did not taste bad. Even though Paladin Danse didn't need to eat, he still ate. It must've been an instinct from "being" a human once, or he didn't want to feel less of one.
"Wow, Danse! You're a great cook!" Shaun exclaimed after tasting Danse's soup.
"See? Listen to the kid." Danse snickered.
At dusk, Nate stood out on the porch and viewed the sunset. He leaned on the railing, his hands clasped together. Danse was off doing who knows what, and Nate was sure that Shaun was working on the farm.
His viewing of the sunset was interrupted by a man running up the driveway. Nate stood up straight as the man grew closer. He reached for his pistol holstered at his hip but moved it away when he realized that the running man was unarmed. Quite dangerous.
"Nathan?" The man was now panting, trying to catch his breath.
"Yes, that's me." Nate replied.
"This is for you. Your eyes only. I was told to deliver this to you in discretion, do not inform anyone of its existence." The man, a courier, spoke, handing Nate a cream-coated envelope.
"If it's that special, why are you running around unarmed?" Nate asked, raising an eyebrow.
"I am not alone. Just didn't want to give you a scare. And remember: your eyes only." The courier spoke without haste before sprinting off in the direction he'd come from.
Nate eyed the road before holding up the letter to see. There was no label, no address. It didn't say who it was from. That was odd. When he flipped the letter over to open it, the logo immediately caught his eye. It couldn't be.
The Institute. It was the Institute's logo. But they couldn't be... could they? What if-
"What was that all about?" Danse asked after opening the door.
"Nothing," Nate quickly stuffed the letter in a hidden pocket and faced the Paladin, "he just wanted to sell us Brahmin milk. I told him no."
Danse raised an eyebrow but said nothing more.
"I'll be right back." Nate slid last Danse and headed up to his room. He wanted to tuck the letter away for safekeeping, so he could read it later when alone. Little did Nate know, Danse saw a bit of the letter in Nate's pocket. He'd have to question Nate about it later, some other time. If the letter was so important to where he didn't want Danse to even know about it, he probably shouldn't intrude.
After coming back downstairs, Danse was standing in the kitchen sipping a Nuka-Cola. He turned around upon hearing Nate clear his throat. Nate held his hands behind his back and a small smile on his face. The smile held a sense of longing and sadness. Danse couldn't quite put his finger on it, but he presumed that it was due to the letter. Nate had not read it yet, but he had an idea of what might be in it. And he wanted to go after it, the Institute. He wanted to know what they wanted to say, if it would be in the letter or not.
Danse waited for Nate to speak, but he never spoke. Instead, he slowly walked forward and wrapped his arms around Danse. The Paladin, shocked for a short second, sat down his Nuka-Cola and returned the hug. Danse wasn't one to hug, but he did it anyway. It must've been a change of heart, with the sudden realization of his feelings and the removal from the Brotherhood of Steel. He was still a soldier, a Paladin, but not in the same way. With Nate in his life, he found change—good change.
"Paladin Danse? Can I tell you something really important?" Nate asked, still holding onto Danse. It was finally time to tell someone, to tell Danse. Nate didn't know when he'd be back, but he knew that he was bound to leave. The letter from the Institute could've only meant one thing. No normal member of the Institute would send him a letter, especially since he infiltrated and destroyed their home.
"Of course," Danse said.
"This... is something that I haven't told anyone before. No one else knows this. Just... bear with me. You might not like what you hear." Nate was still worried about telling Danse the news, but he hoped that it wouldn't be that bad due to how close they've grown over time.
Nate pulled away, though the two have yet to separate. "It's about my son... well, he's not really my real son."
"What are you talking about?" Danse asked.
"We... we found him before we teleported out of the Institute. This kid, he's... a synth. Programmed to be my son," Nate paused, "he was programmed by my real son. Given to me by my real son before he... before he died."
"You can't mean... your real son was a part of the Institute?"
"The leader of the Institute. He... wanted me to be his successor. I... I almost joined them. I almost became his successor. He gave me this synth to raise as my son, as I would've. He wanted me to give him the family that he and I deserved. I would tell everyone that he was my real son. And that's what I did." Nate looked away, wanting to escape. He was worried about what Danse was going to say. Danse had a shocked expression plastered on his face. Nate couldn't tell if Danse was merely taking in the information or hated Nathan now. He hoped that it wasn't the latter.
Danse must've noticed the worry in Nate, so he scrapped what he was planning to say. "Nate... the Institute is bad, but look where you are now. They're gone, wiped from the face of the earth. And it's all thanks to you. I wouldn't hate you. And as for your son, well, it was up to you to decide."
Nate swallowed before saying one last thing. He wasn't sure how Danse would react, but he spoke the truth anyway. "I regret destroying the Institute. It was my son's home, everything he loved and worked so hard for. I... took it all from him. I worked so hard to find him and I ruined it all. Sure, they're bad people, but... he was my son, for god's sake. And, well, they created you."
"... I don't know what to say. After all they've done, Nathan. They killed thousands, just to replace them with synths." Danse said, emotionless. He separated from Nate.
Nate realized what he'd done in telling Danse, knowing how much Danse loathed the Institute. "I... I should go." Nate said before going up the stairs. Danse didn't stop him. Nate needed to be alone. It seemed that he just now started to realize his true feelings, how he really felt about the Institute. Nate needed the time to process everything.
Later on that night, Nate made sure that everyone in the house was asleep before carefully opening the envelope. It was perfect, preserved like everything in the Institute. The paper inside was cream-coated just like the envelope and in fine print were coordinates. Nate stared at the paper, hope sparking somewhere in his helpless soul.
He quickly entered the coordinates in on his pip-boy. The green-colored map showed a location outside of the Commonwealth. This trip would surely be a long one.
Nate quickly threw on his combat armor over his BOS jumpsuit, hoping that no one would recognize the orange clothing underneath. He slid the coordinates into a concealed pocket. He grabbed his trusty laser rifle, Righteous Authority, and filled it up with fusion cells. He also grabbed anything needed: supplies, purified water, stimpaks, and potato crisps that he'd stored in his room. He didn't want to bring too much, or he'd be weighed down.
Once downstairs, Nate grabbed a paper and pen, ready to write a note to Paladin Danse. He wanted to apologize, to tell him that he doesn't know how long he'll be gone, to tell him to not look for him, and to take care of Shaun for him. After hastily writing the note, he folded it up and left it on the counter.
With one last glance to the house, Nate left its perimeters.