#(Our poor mom watching us reduce to nothing but squeaking)

[little-creature-business]

Kobyyy!!

I think he deserves blue eyes /hj

errmmm and little note :3

signature is different bc we post on different accounts, this is like a little hideaway account where some of our friends/irls can’t see our insane thoughts and art HAVAIHS

Yagh 🙏 that is us, we didn’t steal this, and even if you thought you can go to that account whenever and see the art is the same and we even reference this account /srs

[concussed-to-pieces]

The Mettle Of A Man; Part Ten

Fandom: Fallout (4)

Pairing: Eventual Paladin Danse/Female Sole Survivor

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Enjoy!

Part One: ArcJet

Part Two: The Prydwen

Part Three: Orders

Part Four: Finding Brandis

Part Five: Weston Water And Oberland

Part Six: Meeting Preston And Matthew

Part Seven: Radstag And Radstorm

Part Eight: The Return To Sanctuary Hills

Part Nine: Domestic Ruminations

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains mentions of dubious medical procedures. Stay safe!]

Saying that she was in over her head would imply that, at some juncture, she had not been. Backhand couldn't recall a time when she hadn't been struggling to reach the damn surface. 

  There was so much. An entire underground compound, sprawling and winding like a rabbit warren, filled with synths and the scientists who seemed to style themselves as their betters. 

  Shaun had been the worst part about it all, if she was honest. The knowledge that it hadn't been ten years she had lost, but sixty ...and the now-elderly Shaun's bemusement at her emotional response to the child synth he had been leading her across the Commonwealth with was like a slap in the face. 

  The fact that he had the gall to suggest that she should take over the Institute once he had passed on was infuriating in its own right. Vega wanted nothing to do with any of this. She obliged him to the bare minimum. He wouldn't permit her to leave until she fully took in ' the wonders of the Institute ', everything that 'he' had built, so it was with a reluctant heart that Backhand agreed to think about the choice.

  She didn't hate the Institute. It was odd to realize that, but at the end of the day what she truly hated was the way Shaun had continued to hoard all of the advancements they had made. The lives that could have been saved, the differences he could have made in the Commonwealth-!

  Time passed strangely away from the reign of celestial bodies, simply separated into 'work cycles'. 

  Vega apparently spent the entirety of her first work cycle after arrival watching synths be created, the woman observing perfect bodies emerging disoriented from their vat of red liquid. The scientists overseeing the operation, after briefly introducing themselves, all but ignored her. For that she was grateful, because the process was equal parts fascinating and horrifying in its minutiae. 

  "Hello." One newly-formed synth said, sounding dazed when they addressed her. "I'm...new here?"

  She wanted to cry at how confused the synth looked, she wanted to cry because she knew the life they would have down here. She didn't even have the chance to offer them a word of encouragement before they were spirited away to be properly calibrated.

  Shaun came across her in the Robotics lab, her arms wrapped around her knees as she just... stared . "Ah, Mother. You will tax yourself mentally if you keep this up." Her son, who was now older than her by over forty years, scolded her in that insincere, saccharine manner. Backhand was reminded of Nate every time she heard Shaun speak. Even though he couldn't possibly have any memories of his father, his patronizing tone reeked of the casual superiority Nate had displayed in and out of the courtroom. "I have brought one of our coursers to escort you back to your room, Mother. If you would please cooperate with him."

  "Hello ma'am." The courser intoned as she looked up. "I am X6-88. It is an honor to meet the woman who helped to create Father." He was tall and dark-skinned with narrow shoulders, his body wholly sheathed in the courser uniform to mask whatever bulk he might have. He wore mirrored sunglasses, even down here. 

  Backhand thought of the courser she had to kill to tear the chip out of it and her heart dropped. X6 must know about the courser. What if they had been friends? She hesitated on that thought. Were the synths down here even permitted to form those sorts of attachments? Curie, Sturges and Nick were her only real exposure to non-hostile synths, and all of them had their own personalities, likes and dislikes. Well, Sturges wasn't entirely certain as to whether he was a synth or not, but he believed he was and that was good enough for Vega. Did synths who were still under Institute programming actually have the capacity to create those bonds with one another?

  "X6-88 is one of our finest coursers. Due to your combat history and... affinity for getting into scuffles, I assumed being in the presence of another combat-minded individual would help to put you at ease." Shaun's shrug was almost uncouth , as if he didn't particularly believe the words coming out of his own mouth. Backhand knew that the real reason he was giving a courser babysitter duty was because he didn't trust her not to meddle where she shouldn't. "The majority of the Institute is dedicated to much more lofty goals than synth retention, but why wear out the wrench with a job the hammer can perform?"

  Backhand slowly got to her feet. "Very kind of you to think of my needs." She remarked, praying her voice wasn't too flat. She had yet to get used to how Shaun spoke to the synths. Or rather, how he spoke around them. Despite his insistence that they call him Father, the elderly man treated them like objects. Tools , or furniture items. These were living, breathing, thinking beings, reduced down to nothing more than careless analogies of hammer, wrench and screwdriver. It was heartbreaking. 

  Shaun simply inclined his head, the smile on his face more of a simper. "X6, I expect you to treat my mother with the utmost courtesy. She is, after all, the future of the Institute. During the work cycles following her rest, please escort her around the facility." 

  "Of course, Father." X6 replied immediately, his face and tone entirely devoid of emotion. "If you'll follow me, ma'am."

  Backhand obediently followed X6 back out of the manufacturing laboratory, quickening her steps so she could keep up with the courser. He seemed to realize his legs were longer than hers a split second before she drew up alongside him, the synth slowing abruptly. Backhand ended up in front of him by half a step, chuckling a little as she paused and then fell in beside him.

  "Sorry, my fault." She apologized. 

  X6-88 was silent for a moment, and then muttered, "that is foolish, ma'am. Why would you be sorry about something you have no control over?" Backhand hummed, trying to think of a way to explain. X6 quickly tacked on, "not that I'm questioning you, ma'am. I know questions are unwelcome."

  Vega tilted her head, giving the man a confused look. "Unwelcome?"

  "Father has instructed us not to ask questions. He says they will disrupt you settling in." The courser answered bluntly. 

  Backhand laughed, but the noise had no humor. "I've been disrupted for months , X6-88. You can ask me whatever you like."

  "How did you do it?" X6-88 whirled on her, his tone and posture suddenly hostile. "Z2-47 was incredibly skilled. Deadly. Effective. And yet you killed him."

  Backhand nodded slowly, and she heard X6's gloves squeak with how hard he clenched his fists. 

  " How ." The courser demanded.

  "I...I don't know if I'll be able to explain it in a way you can understand." Backhand replied quietly. "Was Z2 one of your friends?"

  "I-!" X6 jerked to a halt, seeming to realize that he had raised his voice. "My apologies if I have given you the wrong impression, ma'am. I merely sought to...find the weakness you must have exploited." He practically growled through his teeth, "I meant no offense."

  "No no, you didn't offend me at all." Vega said sincerely, nearly putting her hand on his arm in a comforting manner before she reined herself in. "It's just not a conversation I would want other people to hear. Um, is my room…?"

  "We only have a short ways to go. You will explain it to me there?" X6-88 asked curtly.

  "I'll do my level best." The longest seconds in the history of man slipped by as the courser studied her from behind those sunglasses. "It's not that I doubt your intelligence or anything, I'd be an idiot to doubt your intelligence." Vega tried to elaborate after the silence grew uncomfortable. "I just don't know if I'll be able to...get the story to make sense."

  "You are allowed to do as you please, ma'am." X6 said, his voice back to that monotone. 

  Backhand shook her head ruefully. "Never mind. C'mon, before somebody gets uptight that you're looming over me."

  The courser took a hearty step back at that, his brow furrowing. "It was not my intention to make you uncomfortable, ma'am." 

  "X6, I was in the army. You're going to have to do a lot more than that to make me uncomfortable. I'm more concerned about what someone might do to you . You know, if they think you're trying to threaten me."

  X6-88 was silent for the remainder of the walk to her quarters, which turned out to be just as sterile as everywhere else. Backhand felt extremely awkward, afraid that she would get dirt on the pristine white furniture.

  She settled gingerly into one of the chairs, gesturing to indicate that X6 should sit as well. He did so after a moment, perched on the very edge of the chair and leaning towards her. 

  Vega clasped her hands in her lap. "X6, has there ever been anyone in your life that you wanted to protect?"

  The courser responded without hesitation. "G5-19." Backhand squinted, trying to figure out why she knew that particular--oh. Oh . But X6 wasn't done. "They were efficient at performing their tasks. Helpful. Useful. An asset to the Institute." He tilted his head at her. "And weak. Poor at combat."

  "You would have done anything to keep them safe?"

  "I did everything that I could." X6-88 said sharply. "I was ineffective in the end, however."

  "Take that feeling and multiply it tenfold, and that's how I felt about Shaun. I knew that I would do everything I could to get my child back. Even if it meant I would have to take down an Institute murder machine." Backhand explained. "There was nothing to exploit, I promise. Just a sad mom's desperation to find her son. Z2-47 gave as good as he got." 

  "I find it very difficult to believe that you employed no underhanded tactics." X6 remarked. "G5 was taken via the use of a pulse grenade, so I assume you must have used something similar."

  "A pulse grenade?" Backhand asked incredulously. "Who the hell were you fighting? "

  "It was a group of raiders that found one of our salvage teams. I was away on another assignment, so I was not physically present." X6's hands gripped down on his thighs. "Had I been there, I assure you things would have played out differently." He muttered.

  "Oh no." Backhand felt a rush of sorrow, and then felt ridiculous. Untold hours ago, she had been standing in Sanctuary Hills, certain that the relay would do absolutely nothing and she would be back to square one. And yet here she was, inside the Institute, listening to a courser talking about losing someone. 

  "I am under the impression that the raiders must have tortured and killed her. Even if she did not die immediately, there is no possibility that someone as weak as her survived on the surface for very long." If Backhand didn't know better, she would have sworn that he sounded grieved. "I asked to be spinally recalibrated and have her memory removed from my processes but my request was denied."

  "Why would you want to-"

  "G5-19 is a distraction." X6-88 growled. "As a courser, I am not permitted distractions."

  "But they denied your request." Backhand repeated.

  "Correct, ma'am."

  "I don't understand why they would say you can't have distractions but then also refuse to remove them." The woman mused, resting her chin in her hand as she thought. "What's the spinal calibration process like?"

  "All synthetic cerebrospinal fluid is drained from the body, wiped of signature and then reinserted via a series of lumbar, thoracic and cervical injections." X6-88 elaborated curtly. "Posture is also corrected during the procedure, as the vertebrae must be properly aligned in order for the fluid to redistribute as intended."

  Vega got a little queasy at his description. "I'm going to assume this isn't a painless undertaking?"

  "It is extremely painful." X6's tone was flat, giving no indication of his feelings on the matter. 

  "But you would have gone through that, just to-"

  "I am an effective instrument of the Institute. If I remove distractions, I am even more effective." X6 interrupted her. "G5-19's memory does not make me more effective. Therefore it is useless to cling to it. I made the mistake of mentioning how distracting I found their memory, and Dr. Ayo wished to study the effects over a period of time. So my request was denied." The leather of his uniform made a soft noise as he shifted in the seat. "I do not prefer one over the other, but if I am not as sharp as possible, there is always an enemy willing to exploit that crack in my armor."

  Vega extended a hand and the courser stared down at it blankly. "May I?" The young woman asked, deliberately keeping her voice even and soft. X6 glanced at her over the tops of those impregnable sunglasses and Backhand was startled to see that his eyes were in fact a light, steely gray.

  "Why?" The synth queried.

  "I'm a tactile person. A lot of times I feel like it's easier to make my point if I'm connected to the person I'm speaking with."

  "I am a tactile learner as well," was all he said in reply. X6-88 didn't move, warily watching her. 

  Backhand relented after a moment, clasping her hands in her lap once more. "I just want you to know that sometimes memories aren't a bad thing, or a distraction. Like with me. Memories were all I had to get me here." She explained pragmatically. "They were my sole, driving force. I was going to get my baby back."

  "Now that you're here, and you can see all the wonders of the Institute firsthand, was it worth it?" X6-88 asked sharply. "Or would it have been better if you woke up without recollection, just another nameless Vault dweller? Can you honestly say you're better off having been reunited with your son?" He challenged her, " especially since you were under the impression that he was still a child via the ruse facilitated by Kellogg and S9-23?"

  Backhand, reeling from the courser's impromptu interrogation, nearly missed the flicker of confusion that twisted his features. She tried to formulate a response, wondering all the while why he was so bent out of shape over her being tricked.

  "I...I meant no offense, ma'am." He said slowly before she could reply. "I am not supposed to ask questions. Why would I ask so many?" He seemed troubled, muttering about needing a full calibration as, " this is getting out of hand ."

  "Look," Backhand said finally, corralling her thoughts into some semblance of order. "I can admit that I don't have all the answers. Despite what every human down here says, we're not actually all-knowing beings. But if you have questions, questions that other people can't or won't answer, I can always take a crack at 'em." She offered.

  "Ma'am, are you implying that our brilliant minds may be keeping information from me?" X6-88 said, a slight uptick in his tone indicating his incredulity.

  Vega held up her hands in an attempt to appease the courser. "Whoa whoa, I'm not saying anything like that. I'm just saying that if you feel like you're not getting the full story, you can ask me. After all, I'm a wellspring of firsthand pre-war knowledge." Her smile turned wry as she recalled Danse's words to her. "A relic, if you will."

  …

  X6-88's first question opened as a statement, oddly enough. "You do not like it down here." The courser observed as he watched her. 

  He had been like a dubiously-benevolent shadow throughout her stay, the work cycles ticking away as she soaked up the Institute's fluorescent ambiance like a sponge. "You're right." Backhand replied. No use denying it . "I don't."

  "Why not?" 

  She leaned silently on the railing overlooking the atrium for several long minutes. "I don't feel like I deserve it, I guess." She admitted softly. "I'm not made for a place like this. Hell, I didn't even feel like I deserved my spot in the Vault. Only reason I went was because of Shaun."

  "You would have died were it not for the obligation you felt towards your offspring?"

  "Well, when you put it like that …" Backhand chuckled sadly. "In a way, yes."

  "Explain."

  "I'm not a good person, X6. Back in the war, I...there's stuff I'm not proud of. I let people goad me into doing things that were out of character for me." She tried to keep it simple, a little less messy than her piecemeal recollections. "I didn't deserve to have a baby. I didn't deserve to have that second chance, that life outside the military." She stared off into space, her eyes unfocused. "I had no one else to love, so I poured all of the affection I had into caring for Shaun. I didn't have a lot after the divorce, but we had a house and food."

  "Divorce?" X6-88 sounded curious. "What were you divorced from?"

  "My husband. Shaun's father."

  "Oh, Progenitor Nathan." X6 mused. "Father has no memory of him."

  "He wouldn't. Nate wanted nothing to do with him." Vega murmured. 

  "I cannot fault him. Infants are highly unsettling." The courser said bluntly, making Backhand burst out laughing. "Ma'am, please attempt to control yourself." 

  "Of course, of course. I'm sorry, X6. I just...the way that you said it, and you being what you are, I couldn't keep my composure." The woman wheezed, grinning up at him. 

  "I'm afraid I don't understand your amusement, ma'am."

  "Well you're this deadly killing machine and yet something so innocent is something you find unnerving." 

  "I am...unused to their noise." X6-88 explained. "They are shrill. Their hunger cries are akin to torture."

  " Oh ." Backhand didn't bother trying to hide her smile. "I guess that would be a problem for you. Back before the war, there were kids everywhere . More chances for people to uh, get used to their racket."

  "That sounds like a nightmare." 

  " Everything about pre-war sounds like a nightmare to you." Backhand retorted petulantly.

  "You are correct, ma'am." X6-88's mouth curved up ever so slightly at the left corner. If she hadn't been watching, she would have missed it. "Children and heights are loathsome to me and from what I learned via browsing archival data, the pre-war world was rife with tall buildings and wailing infants." He cocked his head to look at Backhand over his sunglasses, his expression downright human . "Mankind's ivory towers and dreams of the future did them very little good."

  Backhand suddenly took note of the death grip the courser had on the railing of the balcony. 

  "G5-19 enjoyed children. She was very weak." X6 remarked reluctantly, like the words were being dragged out of him. "I still don't know what she was doing on surface detail. She had never expressed any interest in the surface. She was a simple maintenance synth."

  "I notice that you refer to her as 'she'. The rest of the coursers just call the other synths 'unit'." Backhand pointed out.

  "Another fault of the memories I am plagued by. Speech processor issues. I assign gender due to some form of...error in how I perceived her." X6 shrugged. "Doctor Ayo does not believe it is detrimental for the time being." 

  "Do you think it's because she was a real person to you?" Yikes, too direct , Backhand realized as X6-88 stiffened up. "I mean, because you got to know her. She obviously had some kind of personality that left an impression on you." She tried to amend. The courser was already in turmoil over the memories he didn't want to keep, it wasn't her place to pry.

  "She was weak." X6 seemed to default to that as a descriptor for his... friend , his brow furrowed. Backhand resigned herself to that being the end of the conversation, and then, "she was weak like you are, ma'am."

  "Like me?" The woman asked, surprised. "I don't think I understand."

  X6-88 nodded, his stony expression far from encouraging. "She wanted to help, even if it was detrimental to her. Constantly working. Truthfully, her disregard for the work cycles was what put us in touch in the first place. I was sent to find her when several jobs turned up as incomplete and I located her in a supply closet, fast asleep." He sighed heavily. "I was supposed to reprimand her and send her for recalibration. I still don't understand why I didn't. I even lied and said that I did." 

  The honesty of his admission was unsurprising to Vega; all the synths in the Institute seemed to have very few qualms about telling the truth. She imagined that must be part of their programming, so the scientists could maintain their grip on the synths that vastly outnumbered them.

  "She asked to be transferred from Facilities to Bioscience. She wanted to help, even after her request was denied. She spent all of her free time in Bioscience." His gloves squeaked on the metal bannister. "Then one day I came back from an assignment and she was...gone." He actually sounded pained now, the most emotion she had heard out of him yet. "It was a break in my routine and I do not cope well with such interruptions."

  Translation: I'm sad and I'm not allowed to be , Backhand theorized privately.

  "I would greatly appreciate it if you would not do the same." The courser said abruptly, turning to face her. "Take care of yourself, ma'am. You are, after all, the future of the Institute."

  "X6-"

  "I am being given a new assignment in the following work cycle and will no longer be responsible for you. So I will reiterate my suggestion to you." He said sternly. "Take care of yourself."

  Backhand didn't have the heart to tell the synth that a suggestion and an order were two different things. "Alright." She replied. "I'll do my best, if you promise to do the same. And I...I hope that someday you'll find that friend of yours."

  "Doubtful. But I appreciate the sentiment, ma'am." X6 inclined his head, and then departed. 

  …

  With X6 out in the field, Vega felt like she could finally get down to business. She had a veritable laundry list of to-dos, and she had no idea how long she had even been down here for. 

  There was sneaking into the old branch of Bioscience for the serum to cure Virgil. It was surprisingly simple despite the security measures, to the point where Backhand was almost suspicious .

  Then there was the holotape Sturges had given her to scan the Institute network, easily managed. " I'll be makin' copies of it. I imagine my boy Johnny D. will be mighty interested in what the suits have been up to, and then of course one for your friends in the Brotherhood ." He had informed her right before she had relayed, pressing the tape into her hands. 

  Next there was a bit of a...pet project. X6 had mentioned that his friend (alive and well, unbeknownst to him, functioning as Curie's new body) had expressed no real interest in the surface to the courser, and yet had somehow ended up on a salvage patrol. That sounded like a scheme. A well-meaning scheme. It was possible that there was a scientist sympathetic to the plight of the more self-aware synths.

  Her gentle inquiries put her back in touch with a scientist by the name of Doctor Alan Binet, whom she had met during the first work cycle she spent in the Institute. He worked in Robotics, supervising the creation of synths from the ground up.

  He was delighted to exposit upon his theories of synth cognitive capabilities. The good doctor had apparently witnessed synths experiencing REM sleep, and that fueled him to study their behavior even closer than before. Because if they could dream, why couldn't they have a soul as well?

  But strangely, he seemed adamant in the stance that he would never release the synths to the surface, stating that it was a living hellscape. Backhand couldn't exactly refute his claims either.

  Vega left Robotics stumped and defeated. If not the man who was performing social experiments with the synths, then who?

  She left it alone for the time being, moving on to her last, arguably most important objective. 

  Convincing one Doctor Madison Li to take up her Brotherhood mantle once more.

Part Eleven