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Then the radio went quiet. Sico let the silence settle, his eyes roaming the map sprawled out in front of him. The Commonwealth, Nuka-World, the endless wasteland in between—it all felt connected, threads pulling in directions only a madman would try to hold together. And here he was, with his hand on the strings, trying to make it all dance without snapping apart.
The night after his talk with Gage, Sico hardly slept.
Not because the bed in Sanctuary was uncomfortable — hell, the mattress he'd claimed was better than most pre-war relics people scavenged. No, it was his mind that kept him from shutting his eyes. The sound of the radio still lingered in his ears, the last click of the receiver replaying like a tick in his skull.
He'd leaned over the map long after the lantern guttered out, tracing routes from Sanctuary to the far-off dot he'd marked for Nuka-World. The Commonwealth looked smaller when sketched on parchment, but out there — out in the ruins and mud, under skies heavy with storms and gunfire — every mile stretched like a year. Supplies, engineers, soldiers, water caravans. He saw it all in his head. And with every image came the gnawing truth: the bigger the dream, the heavier the load on his shoulders.
When the morning light finally broke, soft and watery through the grime-streaked window, he shoved himself up and decided there'd be no more brooding for now.
Sanctuary had changed in ways that still surprised him, even after all these months of watching it grow. Where there used to be collapsed houses and weeds swallowing the cracked roads, there were gardens now. Sturges had rigged up water pumps that actually worked, and settlers carried buckets back and forth with easy laughter that would've been unthinkable a year ago. Children chased each other between the rebuilt houses, their voices sharp and high against the morning quiet.
Sico walked with his usual slow stride, broad shoulders swaying, boots crunching gravel. People nodded at him as he passed, some with cautious respect, others with that quiet gratitude you rarely heard spoken aloud. He nodded back but said nothing. His mind was already on the house at the end of the row — Nora's house.
She'd claimed the same home she'd once lived in before the bombs fell. Something about that always stuck with him. Like she was daring the wasteland itself to erase her past.
When he reached the walkway, he paused. From inside, he could hear it — laughter.
Not the kind of brittle laugh people gave when they were drunk, or the sharp cackle of someone who thought they'd just pulled one over on you. No. This was lighter. Softer. Genuine.
A woman's laugh, tired but still alive. And threaded through it, a boy's giggles — high, unguarded, bubbling the way only a child's could.
For a second, Sico just stood there. The sound had weight. It wasn't his, wasn't even meant for him, but it reached into the cracks he usually kept sealed tight. He let it hang in the air before he finally stepped up to the door.
The hinges groaned softly, but the door didn't swing open. Instead, it was Codsworth who appeared first. The old Mr. Handy floated into the frame, chrome polished enough to catch the sun, his eye-stalks blinking in cheerful recognition.
"Ah! Sir Sico!" Codsworth exclaimed in that clipped but warm voice of his. "What a splendid surprise! Do come in — Miss Nora and young Master Shaun are in the sitting room. I daresay you'll find them in high spirits this morning."
Sico gave the robot a faint smile — or at least his closest approximation of one. "Morning, Codsworth. I won't keep 'em long. Just here to check in."
"Oh, nonsense, sir!" Codsworth replied, bobbing in the air. "You are always welcome. And might I add — it does the boy a world of good to have a steady presence like yours around. Children thrive on such constancy, you know!"
Sico grunted something noncommittal and stepped inside.
The warmth of the house hit him immediately. Not just from the cooking stove that hummed faintly in the corner, but from the air itself — the sort of warmth you only got when people actually lived in a space instead of merely surviving in it.
In the living room, Nora was crouched near the floor, her hair a little mussed, a rare looseness to her face. She was holding a toy — a battered old car, the kind that probably once came in a bright box with "Hot Wheels" scrawled across it. Shaun sat cross-legged in front of her, his small hands reaching eagerly as she rolled the toy toward him across the carpet.
He giggled again when the wheels wobbled, the car spinning halfway around before bumping into his knee.
"Your turn," Nora said, smiling in that way Sico had only ever seen her smile when Shaun was involved.
The boy shoved it back toward her, a little clumsy but full of enthusiasm.
It was only when the car rolled past her foot and tapped lightly against Sico's boot that either of them noticed he was there.
Shaun's head snapped up. "Uncle Sico!"
The title still caught Sico off guard every time. He hadn't asked for it, hadn't encouraged it — but Shaun had decided on it days ago and refused to budge. Nora, for her part, never corrected him.
Sico crouched slightly, reaching down to pick up the toy car. "Looks like this little machine tried to make a run for it," he said, holding it up between his fingers before handing it back.
Shaun grinned wide and grabbed it, bouncing slightly on the carpet.
Nora rose to her feet then, brushing her hands on her jeans. "Didn't expect you this early," she said, her voice even but with a note of warmth beneath it. "Everything alright at HQ?"
Sico shrugged. "Far as it ever is. Just wanted to check on you two. Make sure the boy's settlin' in fine."
Nora's eyes softened, just for a moment. "He's… he's doing well. Better than I thought he would, honestly. He laughs more now. Plays. Sometimes I catch him humming when he thinks no one's listening."
Sico's gaze flicked down to Shaun, who was already absorbed again in rolling the car along the edge of the rug. "That's good. He needs that."
Nora hesitated, then added quietly, "Sometimes I almost forget what he is."
Her words hung in the room, heavier than the morning air.
Sico didn't answer right away. He stepped farther in, lowering himself into one of the chairs. The wood creaked under his weight. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes on the boy.
"Forgettin' ain't the problem," he said finally. "World's full of people who'll remind you. That's why I'm here. To make sure no one gets the chance."
Nora folded her arms, staring at him with that quiet, piercing look she had — the one that told you she wasn't letting anything slip past her. "You really think we can keep it a secret forever?"
Sico exhaled slowly, rubbing a hand over his jaw. "Not forever. But long enough. Long enough for him to be more than just… a label. Long enough for people to see him as Shaun first."
The boy laughed again then, oblivious to the weight of the conversation swirling over his head. Codsworth drifted closer, letting out a cheerful whir. "Indeed, indeed! Young Master Shaun is already the very picture of a child. Why, with care and guidance, I daresay the world itself will have no choice but to see him as such!"
Nora's lips curved faintly. "Codsworth, you always know how to make things sound simple."
"Because, madam," the robot replied with a stately bow of his mechanical arms, "sometimes simple truths are the ones worth clinging to."
Sico's gaze lingered on the boy a little longer, following the way Shaun pushed the toy car along the rug, humming softly under his breath as if the machine had a tune all its own. There was a rhythm to it, the kind of quiet, absorbed rhythm you only saw when a kid forgot the world outside even existed. It made something in Sico's chest tighten, though he didn't let it show on his face.
He shifted in the chair, leaning back now, the wood still groaning against his weight. "What does he like to do… y'know, when he ain't rollin' wheels across the floor?" he asked, his voice lower, thoughtful. "What does Shaun like in his free time?"
Nora turned her head, studying Sico for a beat, as if surprised by the question. Then her mouth softened, and she glanced back toward her son. "He likes to make things," she said simply. "Little things, mostly. Whatever scraps I can give him. Sometimes it's blocks from old wood Sturges cuts down, sometimes it's broken bits of metal. He'll sit there for an hour or two, fitting things together, asking me for tape or string or nails. It's like… it's like his brain doesn't stop looking for shapes. Possibilities."
Sico tilted his head slightly, watching the boy again. "Huh." The sound was half a grunt, half an acknowledgment.
"He's got this box," Nora went on, folding her arms loosely. "I keep odds and ends in it for him — bottle caps, screws, old toys too broken to play with but good enough for parts. If I don't give him something to build with, he'll pull apart whatever he can find on his own. He once took the back off an old radio. I nearly had a heart attack when I found him sitting there with the wires in his lap." She shook her head, but her lips tugged into a small smile. "He was so proud of himself. Told me he was 'fixing it,' even though the poor thing never worked again."
Codsworth let out a warm chuckle, his eye stalks bobbing in agreement. "Ah yes, young Master Shaun does have a rather… industrious streak. Why, only last week he attempted to 'improve' my lower panel with a collection of magnets and a spoon. Ingenious in theory, though somewhat disastrous in practice!"
At that, Shaun looked up suddenly, his eyes wide. "It wasn't a spoon!" he piped up in protest, giggling a little. "It was a tool! Like Uncle Sturges uses!"
Nora laughed, the sound lighter than it had been in days. "A spoon, sweetheart. You pulled it right out of the kitchen drawer."
Shaun only grinned wider, his cheeks flushing pink. "Well… it looked like a tool."
Sico smirked faintly, one corner of his mouth tugging up. He leaned forward again, resting his forearms on his knees. "So the kid's got hands for buildin', huh? Likes to take things apart, see how they tick."
"That's one way of putting it," Nora replied. Her voice had that mixture of exasperation and pride only a parent could manage. "He's curious. Too curious, sometimes. But I'd rather see him curious than afraid. It means he's still…" She trailed off, her throat working. "…still a child."
The silence that followed was different from before. Not heavy this time — softer, more like a thread stretched between them.
Sico broke it by clearing his throat. "Maybe we oughta give him more to work with," he said. "Real stuff. Not just broken radios and bent spoons. Kid like that… he could learn quick if he had the right things in his hands. Might even build somethin' worth a damn one day."
Nora's brows rose slightly, her eyes sharpening with a flicker of interest. "You mean… tools? Materials?"
"Yeah." Sico gave a slow nod. "Not lettin' him near power armor any time soon, don't get me wrong. But settin' him up with some wood, some nails, maybe a few safe scraps of tech. A place where he can… y'know, work on things without blowin' himself sky-high."
Codsworth hummed approvingly. "An excellent notion, sir! A proper workbench for young Master Shaun. Why, it would keep his hands busy and his mind even busier. The very picture of healthy growth!"
Nora tilted her head, thinking. She looked back at Shaun, who was now rolling his toy car in slow, looping circles, humming louder as though the conversation didn't quite reach him. "He'd love that," she admitted softly. "He really would."
Something flickered in her expression then — something vulnerable, unguarded. She looked at Sico, and her voice dropped just a little. "You'd… you'd help me set it up?"
The question landed heavier than she probably meant it to.
Sico stared at her for a moment, his jaw tightening. Then he gave a single, deliberate nod. "Yeah. I'll help. Kid deserves a place to build somethin' that's his."
Sico's words about building lingered in the air, almost like smoke that refused to clear. Nora's shoulders softened, and her hand unconsciously drifted across her lap, fingers brushing against her knee as though to ground herself. Shaun had gone back to humming, but now there was a little more energy in it — as though, somewhere in the back of his young mind, he had caught just enough of what was said to imagine the promise of something new.
Sico exhaled slow, leaned back again, but his eyes never really left Shaun. The boy was bright — that much was obvious. Not just "smart for his age," but bright in the way that lit a room without even knowing it. A kid who could take apart a radio and laugh about it… hell, that wasn't just idle curiosity, that was a seed. A seed of something greater. But seeds needed more than scraps. They needed soil. Water. A place to grow.
That thought made Sico's brow furrow slightly. His tongue ran against the inside of his cheek as he considered the boy's little world. Nora. Codsworth. Sturges sometimes, maybe Preston or one of the other folks in Sanctuary. But still — it was a small circle. Too small, maybe. He waited until Shaun's humming filled the quiet again before speaking.
"You ever thought about sendin' him to school?" Sico asked, his voice careful but steady.
Nora blinked, her attention snapping to him as though he'd just dropped a pebble into a still pond. "School?" she repeated, a little surprised.
"Yeah," Sico said, nodding once, slow. "Y'know… with the other kids. He's smart, no doubt. But smart don't mean much if he's only learnin' from broken radios and spoons. Kid needs people his own age. Needs to learn how to deal with folks besides you and Codsworth."
Codsworth let out a polite beep of protest, his metal body tilting just slightly forward. "I beg your pardon, sir, but I daresay I provide quite the educational influence!"
Sico smirked faintly, lifting a hand in a small shrug. "No offense, tin can. But he can't spend his whole childhood talkin' to a robot and his mother. World's bigger than this house. Bigger than Sanctuary, even." He let his gaze shift back to Nora, the weight of it landing there. "If he's gonna grow into somethin' stronger, somethin' whole, he's gotta know how to be with people. How to listen, how to argue, how to laugh at dumb jokes from kids his own size."
Nora's mouth opened as if to respond, then closed again. She looked back toward Shaun. He was still lost in his game, the toy car tracing an invisible racetrack across the rug. There was a pang in her chest as she watched him, because Sico's words rang true in a way that hurt.
"He's… different," she said finally, her voice quieter now. "He's not like the other children. He doesn't even know he's different, not fully. And if they… if they noticed—" She stopped herself, biting down lightly on her lip. Her arms folded tighter across her chest. "What if they don't accept him?"
"Then he learns," Sico said simply. "That's part of growin', too. Ain't all sunshine and friends. Sometimes it's takin' a punch to the nose or bein' called names until you figure out how to stand on your own two feet. You shelter him too much, you risk raisin' a boy who don't know how to stand at all."
The bluntness of it made Nora bristle, but not in anger. It was more like the way a deep truth could sting when it cut too close to the bone. She looked at Sico hard, her brows drawn, her lips pressed together — not because she wanted to argue, but because she wanted to deny it and couldn't.
"Do you think I haven't thought of that?" she asked, her voice trembling around the edges. "Every night, Sico. Every night I wonder if I'm doing right by him, or if I'm making mistakes that will break him later. But…" She exhaled shakily, glancing back at Shaun. "He's all I have left. And the thought of putting him in a room where other children might—" Her voice cracked, and she quickly looked away, blinking fast. "—where they might hurt him, laugh at him, make him feel less… I don't know if I can bear it."
Shaun, oblivious to the tension, had begun narrating his car game softly under his breath: "Vroom… vroooom… the bridge is broken, but the car can fly." He lifted the toy and sent it soaring off the arm of a chair, giggling when it landed with a clatter.
Sico's gaze followed the toy, then the boy, and he exhaled slow through his nose. "He's tougher than you think," he said at last. His voice had dropped lower, gentler — not soft, but closer to it than usual. "Kids are. They bounce back. They scrape their knees, cry a little, then run right back out and do it again. But if you keep him in here…" His eyes flicked around the room — the rug, the toys, Codsworth, the walls. "This'll be his whole world. And someday, when he's older, he'll look outside it and realize he don't know how to live in it."
Nora closed her eyes briefly, her jaw working. She hated that what he said made sense. Hated it because she'd already felt it in her gut, in the moments when Shaun would ask why he couldn't go explore with the other kids, or when he'd stare a little too long at a group of them laughing together near the crops. She had brushed those moments aside, convincing herself he was too young, that the world was still too dangerous.
But Sico was right — the world was dangerous. It always would be. And maybe the best way to prepare Shaun wasn't to shield him from that truth, but to let him step into it, piece by piece, while she was still there to guide him.
Her hands unfolded slowly. She leaned forward, elbows on her knees, and for a long moment she just sat there, her face turned toward the floor. Finally, she asked in a voice that was more fragile than she intended, "And if he hates it? If he comes home every day miserable?"
"Then you'll be here," Sico said, without hesitation. "You'll listen, you'll tell him he ain't alone, and he'll learn that comin' home to someone who cares makes all the difference. That's how kids grow a backbone without losin' their heart."
Nora looked up at him then. Really looked. His expression was steady, but there was something else there — something she hadn't noticed before. Maybe it was the faint crease at the corner of his eyes, or the way his mouth had lost that ever-present edge. It was as though, for once, Sico wasn't speaking as the soldier, or the leader, or the one who carried orders like a blade. He was speaking as someone who knew loss, and who didn't want this boy to be another casualty of it.
Her lips parted, but no words came out.
It was Shaun who broke the silence again. He scooped up the car, holding it high. "Mama! Look!" he called proudly. "It can fly now! It's not just a car, it's a plane too!"
Nora blinked the sting of tears from her eyes, forcing a smile as she looked at him. "That's wonderful, sweetheart." Her voice wavered, but only a little.
Sico leaned back again, his chair groaning under the shift of weight. He folded his arms loosely over his chest. "See what I mean?" he muttered, half to himself. "Kid already knows how to make somethin' more than it is. All he needs now is to learn how to do it around others."
Codsworth's eye stalks tilted toward Nora. "If I may, mum, there are indeed other children in Sanctuary. Why, young Lily, for example — she's about Shaun's age, isn't she? And Jacob's boys. Perhaps a… modest arrangement could be made? Small gatherings at first, rather than a full 'school,' if that feels safer."
Nora's lips pressed together thoughtfully. She had to admit, the idea of easing into it made her chest unclench just slightly. It wasn't all or nothing — maybe it could be a gradual step. A way to test the waters, to see if Shaun could find a place among the others without being tossed in all at once.
She looked back at Sico. "You'd help me with that too?"
He met her gaze, steady. "Yeah," he said simply. "I'd help."
Sico leaned back again, the wood of the chair sighing like an old man settling into a nap. His arms crossed over his chest, but his eyes were still locked on Nora's. He let the silence linger for a few seconds, long enough that she almost thought the conversation was done. Then his voice cut through, steady and certain.
"Great," he said, like the decision had already been carved into stone. "You can start sendin' him tomorrow."
Nora blinked. "Tomorrow?"
"Yeah," Sico replied, his tone even, matter-of-fact. "Ain't no sense in waitin'. You've got your hands full already — more than most. Work with the crops, watchin' the walls, dealin' with people when they come knockin' at your door. You can't hover over him all day, even if you wanted to. And truth is, he don't need you hoverin'. He needs to start stretchin' his legs out there, seein' the world through other folks, not just your eyes and Codsworth's."
Her lips parted, the reflex of protest on the tip of her tongue. But then she shut them again, pressing them together so tightly it hurt. Because deep down she knew he wasn't wrong. She had thought about it before — many times, in fact. The idea of school, of letting Shaun sit with the other children, had crossed her mind on quiet nights when she'd been watching him sleep. She had always shoved the thought away with excuses: he's too young, too fragile, the world's too broken to risk it.
But here was Sico, laying it down plain, cutting through her excuses the way he seemed to cut through everything. No hesitation, no wavering. Just truth, heavy and unyielding.
Her hand found her lap again, fingers curling into her skirt. "Tomorrow," she repeated softly, more to herself than to him.
Sico gave a slow nod. "Tomorrow."
Shaun, still half-lost in his play, looked up when he heard that word. His little brow furrowed, curious. "What's tomorrow?" he asked, his toy car clutched tight in his hand.
Nora hesitated. She glanced at Sico, as though asking with her eyes what she should say. He only leaned back further, one brow lifting in silent expectation. This part's yours, that look said.
She swallowed, her throat dry. "Tomorrow, sweetheart," she began carefully, "you're going to spend some time with the other kids. At the school."
Shaun's eyes widened. His little mouth made a soft "o" shape. "The school? Like… like the old world schools? With desks and chalkboards and… and books?"
Nora's heart clenched at the way he said it, with a mixture of wonder and nervousness. He had seen pictures of schools in the tattered magazines she sometimes let him flip through, but to him they were more like stories than real places.
"Not exactly like that," she admitted with a gentle smile. "It's smaller. Simpler. But yes, with desks. With other children your age. You'll learn together."
Shaun's face lit up — then faltered, uncertainty creeping in. "But… what if they don't like me?" he asked quietly, his voice almost lost in the hum of the lantern nearby.
That made Nora's heart twist in ways she couldn't hide. Before she could answer, Sico leaned forward, his forearms resting heavy on his knees, his voice dropping low like he was talking to an equal, not a child.
"Then you show 'em who you are," Sico said. "You don't need every kid to like you. Just need a couple who see you for what you are — and you'll find 'em. Always do."
Shaun tilted his head, considering that. "And if none of them see me?"
Sico's mouth twitched into the faintest smile. "Then you make somethin' so good they can't help but look." He tapped his temple with one finger. "You've already got the brains for it. Rest will follow."
Shaun's little chest puffed up at that, pride sneaking its way in, even if a shadow of worry still lingered in his eyes. He went back to fiddling with his toy, rolling it along the edge of the rug, but now with a thoughtful look plastered on his face.
Nora let out a slow breath, watching the exchange. She hadn't missed the way Sico had slipped into a role she hadn't asked of him, yet one he wore with a kind of natural ease that startled her. He spoke to Shaun not like a passing adult tossing scraps of attention, but like someone who understood what it meant to carry the weight of being young and unsure.
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• Name: Sico
• Stats :
S: 8,44
P: 7,44
E: 8,44
C: 8,44
I: 9,44
A: 7,45
L: 7
• Skills: advance Mechanic, Science, and Shooting skills, intermediate Medical, Hand to Hand Combat, Lockpicking, Hacking, Persuasion, and Drawing Skills
• Inventory: 53.280 caps, 10mm Pistol, 1500 10mm rounds, 22 mole rats meat, 17 mole rats teeth, 1 fragmentation grenade, 6 stimpak, 1 rad x, 6 fusion core, computer blueprint, modern TV blueprint, camera recorder blueprint, 1 set of combat armor, Automatic Assault Rifle, 1.500 5.56mm rounds, power armor T51 blueprint, Electric Motorcycle blueprint, T-45 power armor, Minigun, 1.000 5mm rounds, Cryolator, 200 cryo cell, Machine Gun Turret Mk1 blueprint, electric car blueprint, Kellogg gun, Righteous Authority, Ashmaker, Furious Power Fist, Full set combat armor blueprint, M240 7.62mm machine guns blueprint, Automatic Assault Rifle blueprint, and Humvee blueprint.
• Active Quest:-