#i can draw and shade super super well but only if its nick valentine

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Let The Rest of the World Go By - WIP

Saw @hey-writers / @heywriters post about posting a WIP, and since I haven't posted any of my writing in a while, I thought I'd share the first chapter of my Nick Valentine noir fic I've been working on since the game came out. It's a few years in the making and was written long before my other FO4 fanfic, It Had To Be You.

I'm trying to write the entirety of this one before I post it, so think of this as a preview! Enjoy!

Chapter 1: A New Case

It was a quiet night in Diamond City.  

In the first time in, well, forever -- the people in Diamond City didn’t have to sleep with one eye open anymore.  The earth-shattering explosion of the Institute had shaken the city to its core. In addition to leveling a good portion of Boston, the quake did a good job of addling the brains of her people as well.  The subsequent celebrations had undoubtedly been louder than the explosion itself, and after days of wild and raucous rejoicing, the Green Jewel of the Commonwealth finally laid down her head to rest. It was a new feeling, to live without fear, and the people of Diamond City relished in it.

All slept soundly -- that is, except for Nick Valentine.  

He sat silent and alone in his office, slowing drawing the smoke from a stale cigarette more ash than tobacco.  It had become something of a ritual for the detective, to sit in the tranquil solitude of night and think. Perhaps to stew over a case, perhaps to simply indulge the bad habits of a man long dead.  After so many nights of nothing but the same, even he didn’t know anymore. The quiet, interrupted only by Ellie’s quiet snoring in the next room, usually gave his mind free rein to wander.

But tonight was different.  The quiet was... different.

Nick exhaled deeply, letting the fleeting warmth of the smoke envelop him before vanishing into nothing.  A fleeting pleasure, gone as quickly as it had come. Nick couldn’t help but wonder if the destruction of the Institute had been the same.  A rapturous victory one moment, a Pandora’s Box the next. The detective gazed longingly at what little remained of his last cigarette. Nothing would feel better than even the tiniest bit of nicotine, some small calm to ease his nerves and circuits, but as a synth he could feel no more than a memory.  All that he had gotten from that precious stick of cancer was a pile of ash and a bad taste in his mouth.

He should be celebrating like everyone else was.  The Institute was gone forever, after all. But here he was, doing what he always did.  Sitting alone with only dreary thoughts and cigarette smoke to keep him company. But he knew that no matter how many cigarettes he blew through this night, the stifling silence of the sleeping city still filled him with dread.  Something was wrong.

But for the life of him, he couldn’t tell what it was.

Whether it was through exasperation or despair he wasn’t sure, but his body felt heavy and stiff, as if the silence had filled him with its enormity.  He began to slump, to collapse under the weight of... something. He laid his head in his hands and let out another sigh. What was it, exactly, that was wrong?

Then, a knock.

Nick looked to the door, confused.  It was... what, three in the morning?  No one would come to him at this hour. A prankster, perhaps, or maybe a lost drunk.  But, then again, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do. Might as well answer. He flicked his cigarette butt to the ground, grinding it under his heel as he strode to the door -- only to have his late night guest let himself in as soon as it was opened.  

The remarkably familiar man looked around frantically, going as far as to even lower his signature sunglasses to see in the dim light of the agency.  His eyes narrowed, scanning the room meticulously for... whatever it was Railroad agents looked for.

“Nick... are we alone?”

Nick rolled his eyes at his typical melodramatic act.  “Nice to see you too, Deacon.”

“Nick.  Are we alone.”

Ah, something was off.  Nick quietly locked the door behind him.  “Yeah. That snoring in the next room’s Ellie -- she ain’t waking anytime soon.  Drank a bit too much today and knocked herself out cold. This ugly mug’s the only one you’ll be seeing tonight, I’m afraid.”

Deacon smiled a bit at that.  “Good. Only one I want to see tonight anyway.”

“Skip the wine and dine and cut straight to the chase?  I always liked that about you, Deacon.”

“Ha!  You know it, you old dog.  ... but, all joking aside, I’ve got a case for you.”  A pause. “You might want to sit down for this.”

The inexplicable heaviness got a bit worse at that. Nick quickly obliged, returning to the seat behind his desk.  If Deacon had come all the way to Diamond City in the dead of night, undisguised and vulnerable, it couldn’t be anything good.  He absently reached for another cigarette, only to find the pack empty. All that was left of forty caps worth of cigs was a heap of butts upended in what had become more ash than tray.  The cravings of a dead man gnawed at him, the need for a quick, calming smoke ever growing. A metal finger tapped the desk impatiently. Something was wrong, and he wanted to get to the bottom of it.

“... so.  A case? Must be important.  What is it?”

Deacon looked up from the overflowing ashtray slowly, his brow furrowed.  “Yeah... important is a word for it. Well... you know what happened a week or so ago, right?  Then again, hard not to, I guess -- what with a good chunk of the city blown to bits. Anyway. The Institute’s gone, Nick.  Gone for good. Our biggest enemy is now a pile of irradiated dust.” He laughed weakly, straining a smile. “Awesome, right?”

“Yeah, but you don’t seem too happy about it.”

“No, don’t get me wrong, I definitely am.  It’s just that--” He pulled his lips into a thin line and took a moment to hide himself behind those sunglasses of his.  “Well, I’ll cut to the chase, since you like that about me so much. Has the Professor told you anything? Come to you at all?”

Ah, Professor.  Nick had never understood why Deacon continued to use her Railroad codename to refer to her.  After all, she and Deacon were as thick as thieves and nigh inseparable. Their infamy as deadly do-gooders of the wasteland was perhaps outmatched only by their legendary, unshakeable friendship.   He had heard the outrageous stories about them, the most believable of them being blasting their way through downtown Boston to lead two young men to safety. The least, tearing down Trinity to rescue a two-bit actor from an army of Super Mutants.   The Commonwealth, as big as it was, was a fishbowl. Rumors spread faster than radroaches, and tales of valiant heroics soon were quickly spun into a scandalous romance between the two, each more wild and passionate than the last.

From what he had heard, neither had denied the claims.

Nick coughed abruptly, mentally kicking himself back on topic.  “No.” He adjusted himself in his seat, impatiently attempting to shake that damn discomfort.  “Why would she? She hasn’t been here since that mess with Kellogg a while back.”

“Have... you seen her at all?”

Damn, did Nick ever need a cigarette.  He silently cursed himself for smoking the whole pack, and he cursed Deacon for, albeit unwittingly, rubbing salt into an old wound.  Ah, was that ever a wound. He leaned back in his chair and found his gaze wandering to the empty desk in his office.

Ellie had been so excited at the thought of Nick getting a partner, especially with her being the woman in shining power armor who saved him from the clutches of Skinny Malone.  Not only had she tidied up the place, but she had bought a full detective’s getup for Nick’s new partner. The trenchcoat and fedora still sat atop that desk, collecting a thick layer of dust as they awaited an owner that would never come.  Neither Nick nor Ellie had had the heart to move them, perhaps in some small hope that she might return.

“I’ll take that as a no, then.  Well... she’s gone, Nick.”

“What?”

“Gone.  She up and vanished a few days ago.  We haven’t been able to find her.”

That... that would explain things.  That inexplicable feeling. The drinking, the cigarettes, the dread.

Pandora’s Box.  

Nick nodded slowly, dumbly, his thoughts racing as his artificial mind attempted to find words, any words, to that.

“Look.  Shit went down at the Institute, Nick.  Real, grade-A, top-of-the-line bullshit.  The Professor... she went through hell and back to take it down.  To be perfectly honest, I don’t blame her for cutting all her shit loose and running.  She deserves a vacation more than anyone, really.”

“But you went through all the trouble to come here... something’s wrong.”

“Yeah.  You got that right.” Deacon was quiet then, vigilant for anyone listening in.  He spoke softly, cautiously. “Look, Nick, buddy. I’d tell you more... but, it just ain’t safe.  For me, for her, or for you.”

“Yet you want me to find her.”

“... well, yeah.”

“Look, Deacon.  As much as I hate to say it, it sounds like your Professor just needs some time to herself.  You said so yourself, she’s had a lot of weight on her shoulders. And,” Nick chuckled under his breath,  “you’ve got some pretty good sleuthing skills of your own, Deacon. Not to mention a hell of a lot more connections.  What makes you think I can find her when even her better half can’t?”

Immediately the sunglasses were back on, but shades couldn't mask the pain in Deacon's voice.  “Nick, me and everyone else in the family -- we’re probably the last people she wants to see right now.  Besides, we have too many enemies turning over too many rocks looking for what’s left of us right now. As much as I hate to say it, we’re not exactly equipped right now to drop everything and go look for her.  I want to more than anything, believe me I do, but I can’t without jeopardizing everything. But she really needs someone there for her before she... well, before she does something bad.  Real bad.”

“... you really think it’ll come to that?”

“Would I be here if I didn’t?”

Nick leaned back in his chair and took a moment to think.  Time wouldn’t be on his side in this one, and he was working with... just about next to nothing.  But he couldn’t just say no, this was about her. The woman who had saved his life. A woman stripped of everything and left at the mercy of the Commonwealth, only to turn right back around and kick its ass.  She was just about the toughest woman he had ever met, but she was still human. She could still break, and according to Deacon, she had. Bad.

“I’ve gotta warn you, my friend,” said Nick carefully, deliberately, “This is going to be far from easy.  I’m probably going to need all the help I can get. At the very least, give me something to work with. Do you have any leads whatsoever?  Where she might’ve gone? What she took with her? Anything?”

“I’d tell you, but I’d have to kill you.  No, really. I probably would.”

“Well, that’s helpful.”

Deacon let out an exasperated sigh. “Look.  I’m sticking our collective necks far enough as it is just by coming here.  We’ve got everyone and their mother looking for us right now -- God only knows who’s after the Professor’s head.”  He leaned forward, peering over the lens of his sunglasses to reveal exhausted, bloodshot eyes. “Look, she’s in a rough spot right now.  Real rough. If she doesn’t do herself in, someone else is going to. I came to you because the walls have fucking ears and you’re one of the few people who I think I can trust with this.  Not to mention you’re probably the only person in the whole damn Commonwealth who can figure out where she is in the first place.”

“I didn’t realize you thought so highly of me, Deacon.”  Had the situation not been so dire, his words might not have sounded so forced, so hollow.  Hearing those words come out of his mouth, Nick half wondered if, perhaps, Deacon thought too highly of him.  Hell, Nick wasn’t sure if he was even sure of himself.

“Maybe I do, maybe I don’t.  Maybe I’m just desperate, maybe I’m just asking my friend a favor.  Albeit the favor of a lifetime, but... please. If not for me, do it for her.”  Deacon stood then, adjusting back to his old, unreadable self behind those dark sunglasses of his.  He deftly undid the lock on the door and was gone just as quickly as he had come.

Well.

Nick now sat alone, once again trapped in the horrible, stifling quiet of early morning.  At least he had something to think about now. He had been right to worry, as this was one hell of a something.  This would probably be his most difficult case yet, and this time, he was doing it alone. Alone, always alone. His eyes wandered once more to the spare fedora and trench atop the empty desk.  Her’s.

His partner’s.

He abruptly slapped his hands on his desk and stood.  He had to move, think.

As he paced furiously back and forth across his office, burgeoning thoughts and theories raced through his metal head like a swarm of angry stingwings.  Now. Where could she be? Was she at Sanctuary? No, she wouldn’t want to be reminded of her family. Was she...? No. No, not that one either. Nick scowled as he poured over each and every possibility, trying to find some semblance of a starting point for the case.  Then, suddenly, an idea. Maybe she--

“Nick... what are you doing?”

Nick nearly jumped out of his boots at the sound of Ellie’s voice.  He hadn’t realized he had, again, been thinking out loud. Quite loudly, at that.  She stood in the doorway in her usual pink tatters, her hair still in rollers. She was thoroughly annoyed, and judging by the dark circles under her eyes and the wet rag pressed to her brow, still thoroughly hung over.  Under normal circumstances, she was as understanding as a saint. But now, she might as well be a deathclaw. At Nick’s continued silence, she raised a brow impatiently.

“I, ah.” Nick cleared his throat rather conspicuously as he attempted to find the right words to say.  “Just, ah... new case. It’s a favor for a friend.”

“At four in the morning?  Ah... nevermind. You never sleep anyway.”  Ellie shook her head and let out a huge yawn.  “So, detective. What’s the case?”

“Missing person.”

Ellie visibly winced.  “Man, even with the Institute gone we’re still going to have our hands full, aren’t we?  I was hoping for at least a few days vacation.”

Nick let out a chuckle.  Poor thing had been partying harder than anyone, thinking that with no Institute there might be a bit of a lull in the missing persons cases.  Even tried some of that Bobrov bleach over at the Dugout Inn. The regret of that decision was plain on her face, and judging from the dark bags beneath her eyes, still had quite a bit to sleep off.

“You can rest easy, Ellie.  I’ll be on my own for this one. So--” He holstered his faithful pipe pistol and a screwdriver, preparing what little he would need for the long journey ahead.  “-- I’ll be out of your hair soon enough.”

“Wait, what?  On your own? And you’re taking your gun?”  The look she gave him pulled at his ghost of a heart.  He bit his lip and reminded himself he did not have one to give, to hurt, or to break.   His face was hardened as she stepped forward, eyes wide with fear. “You’re leaving now?”

“Yup.  It ain’t going to be easy, but hey,” he flashed her a winning, reassuring smile, “I’ve worked with less.  Think you can hold down the fort here, doll?”

Instead of letting out that sigh of relief Nick had anticipated, Ellie’s frown deeped.  She stepped out of the doorway and approached him, still hugging her patchwork blanket around her like a frightened child.  She opened her blanket cocoon and before Nick could protest wrapped it around the both of them in a tight embrace. She buried her face in his chest and simply stood there, holding him.  A baffled Nick was slow to regain his bearing, but once he did he smiled somberly and held her back. Whether it was from the moonshine, the early morning chill or from her newfound fear he did not know, but poor Ellie shook like a leaf in a radstorm.  When she finally spoke her voice was quiet, pleading.

“Don’t go.”

He supposed that was to be expected.  An urgent case given the middle of the night couldn’t look good, especially not to the girl who saw him as the closest thing to family she had.  While Ellie could certainly take care of herself, he knew all too well the loneliness and worry that would plague her in his absence. His heart pulled again, or rather, one of his many old pieces acting up.  Faulty, malfunctioning. Mechanical.

“... I’m afraid it ain’t a question of taking the case or not, Ellie -- someone’s life is on the line in this one.”

Ellie immediately pulled away and gave him those sad, pleading eyes of hers.  “I don’t give a damn whether or not you take this case, Nick. Just... don’t go out on your own again.  Last time you were gone for weeks. Skinny Malone’s crew was about to turn you into scrap! Do you know how scared I was?  If Rosetta hadn’t been there-- wait. Rosetta. She’s your partner.”

“... That she is.”

“We could find her, bring her back so she can help you!  I’m sure if I ask the right people, they can find out where she is.  Please, just wait until she comes back. Wait until it’s safe. I... I can’t lose you again, Nick.”  After a moment, she cracked a strained smile. “I mean, there’s not a lot of other work out there for a detective’s secretary.  I’d rather not have an agency without a detective. So... wait? Please?”

“That’d probably be a bit too much of a wait, even for me.”

She let out a weak laugh and cocked an inquisitive brow.  “That impatient to get on the case, huh?”

“Well, Ellie, you see... she is the case.  A mutual friend of ours just let me know she’s missing.”

Ellie blinked once.  Twice. Three times.

“Yeah, exactly.  Thing is, I don’t think she wants to be found, and my source wasn’t too forthcoming with information.  Confidential, he said. So it’s probably for the best that I’m on my own, keep it under wraps and whatnot.”

“W-wait.  So you have no leads, no information... you only know that she’s missing.  The woman who blew up the Institute, you say her life is danger. And you’re going to scour the Commonwealth for her... with nothing but an old pipe pistol and a screwdriver?”

“... that about sums it up, yeah.”  Even to Nick, the notion was ridiculous.  If he couldn’t even save himself from Skinny Malone, how on earth could he save Rosetta?  But it wasn’t like he could just turn it down, no. That would mean letting the Commonwealth lose its one last beacon of hope in a hell of a long time.  At the very least, he had to try. He gave Ellie one last smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Promise.”

“You better.”  Ellie stepped forward and gave Nick one last, long hug, and much to the detective’s surprise, a quick peck on the cheek.  “Go get her, Nick.”