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Outside, Sanctuary carried on while inside, something had been named. And that made all the difference.
The quiet that followed felt earned.
Not the fragile kind that lingered after an argument, or the tense stillness that followed danger, but the soft, settled quiet that comes when a space has been filled properly and then gently emptied again.
Nora stayed where she was for a moment, back against the wall near the hallway, arms loosely crossed as if holding the warmth of the morning in place. The house still smelled faintly of coffee, oil, and something sweet Codsworth had insisted on warming "just in case." Sunlight slanted in through the windows, catching dust motes in the air, turning them into slow-drifting sparks.
Sico stood a few steps away, watching Shaun now curled up on the couch, half-asleep with his milk finished and the remnants of laughter still clinging to him. The boy's breathing had evened out, one small hand curled around a piece of scrap metal he'd refused to put down, convinced it was important.
"Guess that means playtime took it out of him," Sico murmured.
Nora smiled faintly. "He doesn't slow down unless he feels safe."
That landed quietly between them.
Sico nodded once. "Then I'm glad he does."
They didn't rush to move. Didn't immediately start cleaning or reorganizing the space the others had left behind. It felt wrong to hurry the moment out the door.
Eventually, Nora pushed off the wall and crossed the room, sitting carefully on the arm of the couch so she wouldn't wake Shaun. She brushed a loose strand of hair away from his forehead with practiced tenderness.
"You okay?" she asked Sico, not looking at him yet.
"Yeah," he said. Then, after a beat, more honestly, "Better than okay."
She glanced up at him then, her expression thoughtful.
"You're quiet."
He shrugged lightly. "Just… taking it in."
Nora studied him for a moment, then nodded as if she understood exactly what he meant.
They spent the rest of the morning that way. The kind of time neither of them had allowed themselves in years.
Shaun woke up hungry again, immediately and dramatically declaring he might starve if action wasn't taken. Nora laughed and sent him to wash his hands while Codsworth fussed over a second round of food.
Sico helped where he could, even when he wasn't particularly useful with passing tools Codsworth didn't need, holding a plate steady, kneeling to listen as Shaun explained a new idea for a "robot that fixes other robots but also shoots lasers." Sico nodded seriously, asked questions, treated it like a briefing.
That earned him a grin so wide it bordered on painful.
After they ate, they moved outside for a bit.
Sanctuary was alive in the way it always was now that not chaotic, not desperate. Just busy. Purposeful. Guards nodded respectfully when they saw Sico, but none interrupted. They'd learned when to let moments be.
Shaun ran ahead, chasing nothing in particular, just energy and sunlight. Nora and Sico walked slower behind him, close enough that their arms brushed now and then.
"This is strange," Nora said quietly.
Sico glanced at her. "Good strange or bad strange?"
She huffed a soft laugh. "You're not allowed to steal my lines."
"Too late."
She shook her head, amused. "Good strange," she admitted. "It feels like I stepped into a version of my life I didn't think I was allowed to have anymore."
He stopped walking.
She noticed immediately, turning back to him.
"You are allowed," he said firmly. "Not because someone grants it to you. Because you exist."
Something in her chest tightened.
She looked away first this time, blinking once. "You're dangerous when you talk like that."
He smiled, but there was no teasing in it. "Only when it's true."
They stayed out until Shaun tired himself out again, this time collapsing dramatically onto the grass and declaring he needed to "recharge like a synth." Sico lay down beside him without hesitation, arms folded behind his head, staring up at the sky.
Nora watched them for a moment as the leader of a republic and a child of the wasteland, side by side, equally content.
She didn't try to explain why it mattered so much.
She just let it.
It was early afternoon when the shift finally happened.
Not dramatic. Not urgent.
Just inevitable.
A familiar voice called from near the edge of the street.
"President?"
Sico lifted his head immediately.
A woman approached from the direction of the main road, posture straight, stride efficient. She wore practical clothing, a leather satchel slung over her shoulder and a data slate tucked under one arm. Her expression was polite but strained in the way of someone who had been holding a task together with sheer willpower.
Nora recognized her at once.
Sico's secretary.
The one person who could track him down anywhere and make him feel slightly guilty without saying a word.
Sico sat up, already exhaling. "I was wondering how long it would take you to find me."
She stopped a respectful distance away, nodding to Nora and Shaun first before turning back to him.
"Two days," she said calmly. "Which is a personal record."
Nora raised a brow. "He's been gone two days?"
The secretary nodded once. "Yes, ma'am. And the paperwork has… noticed."
Sico groaned quietly, rubbing a hand over his face. "Of course it has."
She softened just a fraction. "I wouldn't interrupt if it wasn't necessary."
He knew that.
He looked back at Shaun, still sprawled dramatically on the grass, then at Nora.
"I have to go," he said.
Nora didn't argue.
She didn't sigh or look disappointed.
She just nodded.
"I know."
That somehow made it harder.
Sico stood, brushing grass from his clothes. He crouched in front of Shaun.
"Hey," he said gently. "I've gotta head out for a bit."
Shaun pushed himself up on his elbows. "Like… gone-gone?"
"No," Sico said immediately. "Just work."
Shaun considered this seriously. "Will you come back?"
Sico smiled. "Yeah. I will."
Shaun nodded, satisfied. "Okay."
He stood and stepped forward suddenly, wrapping his arms around Sico's waist in a fierce, impulsive hug.
Sico froze for half a second.
Then he returned it without hesitation.
"See you soon, buddy," he murmured.
Shaun pulled back, grinning. "Don't forget."
"I won't."
Sico straightened and turned to Nora.
They stood close, the world narrowing around them for just a moment.
"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I didn't want to leave like this."
She reached up, resting a hand against his chest. "You're not leaving like anything," she said softly. "You're just… going to work."
He smiled faintly. "Still."
She stepped closer, closing the last inch herself.
"Go," she said. "Do what you need to do. We'll be here."
That steadied something in him.
He leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead that unhurried, protective, full of promise without needing to say it aloud.
"For the record," he murmured, "this was the best two days I've had in a long time."
She smiled, eyes bright. "Me too."
He pulled back reluctantly, then turned and walked toward his secretary, who waited patiently, pretending not to notice the moment she'd just witnessed.
As they walked away, Sico glanced back once.
Nora stood where he'd left her, one hand resting on Shaun's shoulder, watching him go without fear.
That mattered.
The ride back to Freemasons HQ was quiet.
His secretary sat across from him in the Humvee, already organizing papers, already preparing him for what waited.
"I made a list," she said calmly. "We'll start with the most urgent."
"Of course you did," he replied dryly.
She allowed herself a small smile. "Also… congratulations."
He blinked. "On?"
She glanced up at him briefly. "On finding something worth stepping away for."
He didn't respond immediately.
Then he nodded. "Thank you."
Freemasons HQ loomed familiar and imposing when they arrived with steel, concrete, banners fluttering in the wind. The weight of leadership settled back onto his shoulders the moment he stepped inside.
Meetings waited.
Decisions waited.
Paperwork waited.
He took his seat behind the desk an hour later, stacks already arranged, reports flagged, crises outlined in neat, unavoidable rows.
Sico loosened his collar, exhaled once, and got to work.
But this time, when the weight pressed in
When the responsibility threatened to grind him down.
He didn't feel alone.
He worked through the first stack methodically, pen moving with practiced confidence. Orders signed. Resources allocated. Messages dictated.
The hours settled into him the way they always did once he crossed the threshold back into responsibility.
Not with a jolt. Not with dread.
With weight.
The door to his office closed behind him with a muted thud, sealing off the outside world. The room smelled faintly of old paper, ink, polished wood, and the lingering trace of coffee that had gone cold hours ago. Sunlight filtered in through tall windows, catching the dust stirred up by movement and turning it into something almost ceremonial.
Sico stood there for a moment longer than necessary.
Hands resting on the back of his chair.
Breathing.
Letting the transition complete.
Then he sat.
The desk in front of him looked exactly as he'd left it and completely different. Stacks of documents arranged in careful tiers. Folders marked with color-coded tabs. A slate already lit with a summary report scrolling patiently, as if it had been waiting for him the whole time.
He loosened his collar, rolled his shoulders once, and picked up the first file.
The work began.
At first, it was mechanical.
Approvals. Signatures. Allocations. Requests reviewed, denied, revised, approved again. His pen moved steadily, confidently, muscle memory guiding it across paper without hesitation.
Supply routes rerouted to avoid Brotherhood scouting zones.
Medical shipments prioritized toward frontier settlements.
A request from the western outposts for reinforced barricades that need to be approved with conditions.
A proposal for reallocating engineers that flagged for Sturges.
Normally, this was where the exhaustion crept in.
Where the weight pressed too hard.
But today.
Today, his mind didn't fracture under the load.
It stayed anchored.
Every few pages, an image surfaced unbidden.
Shaun sprawled on the grass, declaring himself a synth in need of recharging.
Nora standing in the doorway, sunlight behind her, telling him to go without fear.
That steadied him.
The first knock came midmorning.
Not urgent.
Not tentative.
Confident.
"Come in," Sico said without looking up.
The door opened, and Magnolia stepped inside.
She wore her usual calm elegance with dark coat draped just right, posture relaxed but precise. Her hair was pulled back loosely, eyes sharp and observant as ever. She carried a ledger tucked under one arm and a folded report in the other.
"President," she said smoothly. "Hope I'm not interrupting."
He glanced up, smiling faintly. "You never are. What've you got?"
She crossed the room and placed the ledger neatly on his desk. "Trade updates. Caravan movements. A few… developments."
He gestured for her to continue.
"First," Magnolia said, flipping the ledger open, "the southern trade route through Graygarden is stable again. The patrols you approved last month scared off the raider band that'd been harassing the caravans."
"Good," he said. "Any casualties?"
"None on our side," she replied. "A few bruised egos, apparently."
He nodded, making a note.
"Second," she continued, "the Brotherhood's presence has made some independent traders nervous. We're seeing a dip in luxury goods from alcohol, pre-war tech, entertainment."
He leaned back slightly. "That'll affect morale."
"Exactly," Magnolia said. "Which is why I took the liberty of negotiating temporary exclusivity deals with Goodneighbor and Bunker Hills vendors. Keeps goods flowing without drawing too much attention."
He raised a brow. "You didn't wait for approval."
She smiled unapologetically. "You hired me for judgment."
He chuckled. "Fair."
She leaned one hip against the desk, tone shifting subtly. "One more thing."
"Go on."
"There's optimism," she said carefully. "Among traders. Word is spreading that leadership's been… present. Human."
He met her gaze.
"And that's a problem?" he asked mildly.
"No," Magnolia said honestly. "It's an opportunity."
She closed the ledger. "People invest more when they believe in the people running things."
Sico nodded slowly. "Good work."
She smiled, satisfaction flickering briefly across her face. "I'll keep you updated."
When she left, the room felt a little less heavy.
The work continued.
By midday, his hand ached faintly. He switched pens. Stood briefly to stretch. Drank coffee he didn't remember ordering.
The second knock came just after noon.
Sharper.
More formal.
"Come in."
Sarah Lyons entered, helmet tucked under one arm, expression focused but not tense. She carried herself with the quiet confidence of someone who knew exactly what she was doing and why.
"President," she said crisply.
"Sarah," he replied. "Report."
She didn't waste time.
"Patrol rotations are holding," she began, stepping forward. "Night coverage has improved since we adjusted routes. Fewer blind spots. Fewer incidents."
He nodded. "Casualties?"
"None in the last forty-eight hours," she said. "A few close calls near the old transit tunnel, but scouts spotted movement early and rerouted."
Sico's jaw tightened slightly. "Good."
She continued. "Morale's up."
That made him look up.
"Explain."
She hesitated for half a second, then spoke honestly. "The soldiers talk. They notice when leadership listens. When decisions make sense. When they're not being thrown into fights blind."
She shifted her weight slightly. "They trust you."
That sat heavier than any report.
"I don't take that lightly," he said quietly.
"I know," she replied. "That's why I wanted you to hear it directly."
She placed a small stack of papers on his desk. "Equipment requests. Mostly standard. But Preston mentioned something earlier about night vision."
Sico's expression sharpened. "He did."
"I agree with him," Sarah said firmly. "If Mel increase the production, it'll change everything."
Sico nodded once. "I'm already on it."
That earned her a rare smile.
"I'll update patrol leaders," she said. "Let them know help's coming."
When she left, Sico sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling for a moment.
Lives.
Every line of ink represented them.
He went back to work.
Early afternoon brought Jenny.
She knocked lightly before stepping in, a tablet tucked under her arm, boots still dusty from the fields. There was a warmth to her presence that practical, grounded, earned through honest labor.
"Hey," she said. "Hope you've got a minute."
"For you?" he replied. "Always."
She smiled, relaxing slightly. "Farms are doing good. Better than projected, actually."
She pulled up data on the tablet and turned it toward him. "The new irrigation lines worked. Crop yields are up. We've got surplus again."
"That's good news," he said. "Any trouble?"
"A few pests," she admitted. "Nothing we can't handle. But I want to expand storage before winter."
He scanned the numbers. "You'll have the resources."
"Thank you," she said sincerely.
She hesitated, then added, "Also… people are settling in. Not just surviving. Building routines. Families."
His chest tightened just a little.
"That's the goal," he said.
She nodded. "You're doing it."
She left behind the faint scent of soil and sun.
The afternoon wore on.
Meetings blurred into paperwork. Paperwork into decisions. Decisions into consequences he'd feel weeks from now.
Late afternoon brought Sturges.
He arrived with blueprints rolled under one arm, grease smudged across his knuckles, eyes alight with barely contained excitement.
"Boss," he said eagerly. "Got a minute?"
Sico smiled tiredly. "For you? Make it five."
Sturges unrolled the blueprints across the desk without ceremony.
"Alright," he said, pointing. "Infrastructure updates. First with the water purifier's holding, but one of the turbines needs replacement within the month."
Sico nodded. "Approved."
"Second," Sturges continued, "I've got a proposal for reinforced power lines between Sanctuary and the southern farms. Less downtime. Less vulnerability."
"Do it."
Sturges grinned. "Knew you'd say that."
"And third," he added, lowering his voice slightly, "Mel's been asking questions."
Sico leaned forward. "About?"
"Optics," Sturges said. "Power draw. Materials. He's serious."
Sico smiled faintly. "Good."
Sturges nodded enthusiastically. "If anyone can make night vision work with what we've got? It's him."
They talked longer than planned.
By the time Sturges left, the sun had dipped lower, casting long shadows across the office floor.
Sico finally leaned back, rubbing his eyes.
The day had been relentless.
But.
It hadn't broken him.
He glanced at the small photo tucked into the corner of his desk that one he hadn't realized he'd placed there earlier. A simple shot Piper had snapped before Nora caught her. Blurry. Unposed. Shaun laughing between them.
He smiled.
Then he picked up the next file.
And kept going.
When night finally pressed against the windows and the office lights hummed softly overhead, Sico signed the last document of the stack and set his pen down.
His shoulders ached.
His eyes burned.
But his mind was clear.
The pen rested where he left it.
Not tossed aside. Not dropped with relief.
Placed.
Sico let his fingers linger there for a second longer than necessary, feeling the faint groove worn into the barrel from months of use. A small thing. But it grounded him. Marked the end of something.
He leaned back slowly, chair creaking in quiet protest, and exhaled through his nose. The office around him hummed with low, steady life: the lights overhead, the slate dimming itself after sensing inactivity, the distant echo of boots in corridors far beyond his door.
Night had fully claimed the windows now. The glass reflected his silhouette back at him—tired, yes, but upright. Still standing.
Still here.
He reached to the side of the desk and lifted the walkie-talkie, thumb brushing over the worn edge before pressing the button.
"Office to secretary," he said, voice calm, measured. No edge. No urgency.
There was a brief crackle, then her voice came through, clear and professional. "Go ahead, President."
"Can you come in for a moment?" he asked. "I want to make sure I'm not missing anything before I turn in."
"On my way," she replied without hesitation.
He set the walkie back down and rose, rolling his shoulders once as he stood. The stiffness protested, but he ignored it, moving toward the window instead. Outside, the settlement lights glimmered like a constellation scattered across the ground with homes, workshops, guard posts, places where people lived actual lives while he sat behind wood and glass making decisions that shaped them.
The knock came softly this time.
"Come in."
The door opened, and his secretary stepped inside, tablet held neatly to her chest. She looked tired too, though she masked it well with hair still tidy, posture straight, eyes alert.
"You called, sir?" she asked.
He turned to face her fully, leaning one hip against the desk. "I did. Just wanted to check if there any paperwork I still need to sign tonight? Anything urgent?"
She glanced down at her tablet, fingers moving quickly as she scrolled. The room filled with the faint sound of taps and swipes.
"No, sir," she said after a moment. "Everything critical's been handled. There are a few pending items, but nothing that can't wait until morning. I'll take care of the rest."
He studied her face for a second, as if making sure she meant it.
"You're certain?" he asked.
She met his gaze evenly. "Absolutely. You've done more than enough for one day."
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "That's dangerously close to an order."
She smiled back, just a little. "Consider it professional advice."
He nodded. "Alright then."
He reached for his coat, slipping it on with a familiar ease. "Good work today. Don't stay too late."
"I could say the same to you," she replied.
He paused at the door, hand on the handle. "Goodnight."
"Goodnight, President."
The door closed behind him with a soft click, and for the first time all day, the weight began to lift that not vanish, not disappear, but ease. Shift into something manageable.
The walk back was quiet.
The corridors were dimmer now, activity reduced to night patrols and the occasional late worker hurrying along with a stack of reports under their arm. Sico nodded to a few people as he passed, receiving tired smiles and respectful acknowledgments in return.
Outside, the night air was cool against his face, carrying the familiar mix of earth, metal, and faint woodsmoke. His boots crunched softly against gravel as he made his way toward Nora's place.
Home.
The word still felt strange sometimes. Fragile. Like it might vanish if he leaned on it too hard.
The lights were on when he reached the house, warm and steady behind the windows. Through the glass, he caught movement with shadows crossing, the faint clink of utensils, Codsworth's metallic voice drifting out as he fussed about seasoning.
He paused on the porch for a moment, hand resting on the doorframe.
Breathing.
Then he went in.
The smell hit him first.
Real food. Warm. Savory. Comforting in a way no ration pack ever could be.
The door closed behind him, and almost immediately Shaun's voice cut through the room.
"Sico!"
The boy was seated at the table, legs swinging slightly as he gripped a fork with more enthusiasm than precision. His face lit up the moment he saw Sico, eyes bright, grin wide enough to make something in Sico's chest loosen all at once.
"There he is!" Codsworth chimed proudly from near the stove. "I was beginning to worry you'd work yourself into an early grave again, sir."
Sico huffed a quiet laugh. "Nice to see you too, Codsworth."
Nora turned in her chair, expression softening the second she caught sight of him. She looked tired as there was no hiding that, but it was the good kind of tired. The kind that came from doing something that mattered.
"You're late," she said gently.
"Sorry," he replied, stepping closer. "Ran long."
She stood and leaned in to kiss his cheek, brief but grounding. "Dinner's still warm."
He reached out, ruffling Shaun's hair as he passed. "What are we having?"
"Stew!" Shaun declared proudly. "Codsworth made it. And bread. And he said I couldn't have dessert until I finished my vegetables."
Codsworth puffed up slightly. "Doctor's orders, sir."
Sico chuckled, pulling out a chair and sitting down at the table. The simple act felt like exhaling after holding his breath all day.
He picked up his spoon, tasting the stew. It was good. Really good.
"Codsworth," he said sincerely, "this is excellent."
"Well, I do try," the robot replied, preening just a little.
They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, the kind that didn't need filling. The clink of cutlery, the soft hum of the house, Shaun's occasional commentary about how the carrots were "acceptable, but not great."
Sico watched them both as he ate.
Nora's movements were efficient but unhurried. Shaun leaned closer to her as he talked, shoulder brushing her arm. They looked… settled. Like something had finally found its place.
And that made the day with the weight, the decisions, the ink and paper as all of it worth it.
Eventually, Nora set her spoon down and looked at him more seriously.
"There's something I need to tell you," she said.
He felt it immediately. The way her voice tightened just enough to signal that this wasn't small talk.
He nodded. "Okay."
She glanced at Shaun. "Finish your dinner, alright? Codsworth will help you with the dishes."
Shaun made a face but nodded. "Can I tell you about my drawing later?"
"Of course," Sico said, smiling. "I want to see it."
The boy beamed and went back to his food, already distracted by the promise.
Nora waited until Codsworth ushered Shaun toward the sink before she spoke again.
"I have to go back to the Institute tomorrow," she said quietly.
Sico didn't react right away. He just listened.
"To oversee the war," she continued. "The Brotherhood's movements are escalating faster than expected. I need to be there to coordinate, make sure nothing goes wrong."
He leaned back slightly, fingers tightening around his spoon.
"I figured as much," he said after a moment.
She searched his face. "I didn't want to spring it on you."
"You didn't," he replied. "It's part of this. Of who we are now."
She nodded, relief flickering across her features. "I won't be gone long. But… I can't do this from a distance anymore. Too much is at stake."
He reached across the table, resting his hand over hers. "I know."
Their eyes met, and in that moment, there was no President. No Director. No war councils or patrol routes.
Just two people who had survived too much to pretend this was easy.
"Be careful," he said softly.
"I always am," she replied, squeezing his hand. "And you'll keep things steady here."
He gave a faint smile. "That's kind of my job."
Shaun's voice cut in from the kitchen. "Dad! Codsworth says I did a good job!"
"You did," Codsworth confirmed. "Minimal spillage. A personal best."
Sico laughed, the sound easing something deep in his chest.
"I'll be right there," he called back.
He looked at Nora one last time before standing. "We'll talk more later."
She nodded. "We always do."
He rose, joints protesting now that the day was truly over, and joined Shaun at the sink, helping dry dishes while the boy chattered about robots, and grass, and how being a synth didn't actually feel any different most days. And for a little while, the war stayed where it belonged, which is outside the door.
______________________________________________
• 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:-