The Synthetic Connection: Part 1: Passing Friends and New Job Opportunities

After a good amount of encouragement and a few days of writing, I've returned with a more fleshed out opening for what I started a few days ago!

Inspired by u/Reedemption 's thread as seen here, this little tale is intended to follow Nick Valentine and others as they embark on the trail of a dead man's kidnapped son, in a take on Fallout 4 without the Sole Survivor.

Warning ahead of time, should I continue this it will inevitably spoil the later parts of Fallout 4. As it is, it already kind of spoils an earlier portion of Fallout 4.

Open to comments and criticism, but most of all hope you enjoy should you take the time to read. Edit: Quick edit for formatting.

---

It hadn’t been a great day. First there had been the whole being holed up in a vault thing, which honestly didn’t turn out that bad considering some Good Samaritan had come along to spring him from the oversized tin can. Not that said Good Samaritan hadn’t had a reason for doing so. He didn’t really feel like offending the guy, especially considering all he had done for him, but often enough he found that people never really came to him in his own times of need out of the goodness of their hearts.

Instead they found their way to him because they needed something out of him. Generally they wanted to tap into his tiny skillset, namely pertaining to matters that fell under the umbrella of needing a detective. On rare occasion they came to kill him themselves, and saved him only in the hopes of offing him right after. The latter situations hadn’t gone well for those who had tried thus far. Keywords ‘thus far’.

So when the man had strolled into that cold metallic room, tailed by a familiar dog, Nick Valentine had a rough idea of what to expect. His intuition didn’t fail him, either. Sure the guy had shown up partially out of the kindness of his heart, but at the end of the day what had drove him to save the so called ‘Synth Detective’ was that he was looking for someone. Out in the wastes that wasn’t that unusual. People had a way of disappearing, whether it be through the foul deeds of another or of their own volition.

Whatever the reason and whoever the person, he had been ready to help. Tit for tat and what not. It was only proper to repay a debt, and considering how grim his situation could have gotten, Nick was more than prepared to pay this particular debt in full. But there was something about hearing about a missing kid that made it seem all the more important. Even as they had been walking out of the vault, and making their way down the street, he was already dwelling on the possible connections to start making between this guy and his missing kid.

Then the day got worse.

Like most other things in the waste, the fact that they encountered raiders was at the least somewhat predictable, and at most to be expected. For some reason a number of people had gotten it in their heads to strap frying pans and shopping cart bits to themselves and start harassing whoever happened by them, save for those who opted to join them in the effort. They were a roach that happened to be human shaped. A nuisance on their worst days, and a surprisingly big threat on their best days.

Which was why it was no surprise when the three guys who jumped them crawled out of their hiding spots. Or rather, it was moderately surprising in the sense that Nick hadn’t expected it to happen at that moment, but in the grand scheme of things was likely to happen to them eventually.

The trio had found cover easy enough. At least the pair of them that walked on two legs did, while their four-legged friend charged off to tear out someone’s throat. Nick could only be thankful the mutt was on their side. Honestly things looked to be going alright. When he popped out to shoot he caught one of the guys jumping them in the head and he fell over like a sack of potatoes. The dog, or Dogmeat as he’d heard someone call him in the past which he still argued wasn’t all that creative a name for the beast, started clawing at another guy, who was offed by Nick’s rescuer. Which just meant there was one guy left to kill.

One exceedingly large man. Likely the person in charge of this little band of miscreants. Apparently he had ordered that he got the best of the scrap armor, since his looked the thickest. His gun looked the nicest too, and was aimed squarely in their direction. Nick sighed, leaning back against his cover for a moment, considering the situation. Glancing across the way once more he found that his ally was fixing to make a move, so he prepped himself to do so right alongside him. Two guns and the dog should be enough to bring the bruiser down.

The next few seconds seemed to play out rather slowly, as they always did in such moments. That is, those moments filled with large amounts of stress and threats of death. As Nick twisted himself around once more, readying his pistol to fire off however many shots were left in the clip, he caught something out of the corner of his eye. Something falling to the ground. Making a mental note of the flashes from the raider’s gun as he unloaded his own, things started snapping together in his wired brain.

He paused for at least a minute, staring down at the dead raiders with nothing short of contempt. It took all the strength he could muster to turn his head and look down at the fourth corpse in the alley, blood still pooling out of his fresh wounds. It really didn’t matter how long he had knew the deceased. Nothing was going to shake the feeling that the Wasteland had just lost another decent soul.

Dogmeat knew. Sure it looked up at the Synth as though there were something he could do, but eventually it clicked. The animal wasn’t dumb. It crept over, nosing the man a few times, before resolving to simply lick his hand a few times. Nick pulled out a cigarette, and lit it, taking a few puffs off of it and glancing upward. Anything to not have to look at the dead man.

There really wasn’t much of an option for him here. Sure, he could just turn and walk off. Leave the guy behind, try to forget about him, and go about his other business. The dog might trail him for a little while before it ran off to find someone else. But the idea that he had some debt to pay wasn’t going to let him go that easily, which meant that right now the best thing he could do was start taking up clues.

Pulling the cigarette from his lips he tossed it on the ground, crushing it under his foot. Bending over, he started patting the guy over, looking through his pockets, and all-in-all violating any sort of privacy he might have respected had the man still been among the world of the living. The guy had come pretty armed, since the majority of things he appeared to be carrying was bullets and meds. There was a few notes and keys on top of that, but the biggest thing of note he could manage was some old looking holotape, not that he could even play it here.

Not to say that he didn’t have enough to go on as it was. It just would have been nice to have other direction to follow. The guy himself provided enough clues to work off of, both how he looked and what he said. His blue jumpsuit identified him as a Vault Dweller, and one in pretty good condition. The only place he could imagine him coming from in this great of shape was honestly that bunker out west, but last he could recall its number wasn’t 111.

Nick knew he was a guy looking for his kid, and that he had to have passed through Diamond City on account of the fact that he’d mentioned his secretary was missing him. When that thought passed his mind Nick could only feel more guilt, considering how much Ellie was probably worrying about him by now. At least he could set her at peace somewhat when he rolled back into town. Though he wouldn’t be staying long, since it was extremely unlikely that this ‘Shaun’ was there.

There was still going to be some business to attend to in Diamond City besides poking his head in to say hi to Ellie. If this guy had passed into Diamond City, it was almost guaranteed that he had been harassed, or as she was bound to say ‘interviewed’, by Piper. Not that he’d knock her too much, even if she wasn’t here. She had her uses, especially when there was a particularly odd lead that needed followed. Most people in town weren’t inclined to listening to outlandish rumors, but Piper was more than ready to. Even if she was a little Institute-crazed.

Letting out another sigh, the Synth stood. The mutt stared up at him, tilting its head and letting out a little whimper. Much as he hated to admit it, Nick knew there wasn’t much they could do for the guy. There wasn’t much space to dig a hole for him here, and dragging a corpse around the city to find a proper spot was a death sentence. Most they could do was close his eyes and leave him be.

“Come on, pooch,” Nick muttered, motioning for Dogmeat to follow. “Need to get back to town before it gets dark.”

The dog whined, but followed along anyway. As they crept along down the alley once more, Nick made sure to step on rather than over the raiders. He kept his gun out and at the ready for any other opportunists who wanted to try their luck. All the while dwelling on how to pick apart this particular case and hopefully earn some peace for the man in blue.