#kitchen and bathroom rouse hill

[sydneyhomes78945]

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[ameliamartin7525]

Innovative Kitchen Renovations In Rouse Hill: Integrating The Latest Technology

Creative kitchen renovations in Rouse Hill exemplify how creativity and practicality can coexist. Adding high-tech appliances, smart lighting controls, and improved connectivity can transform your kitchen into a contemporary, functional area that meets your lifestyle demands. These upgrades promise a more innovative, sustainable, and convenient cooking experience, increasing your house's value. Take advantage of technology to create a transformational kitchen renovation.

[letmehavemyfictionalmen]

Hollywood’s Sweetheart: Chapter 1

Summary: In the heart of Texas, nestled within the vast expanse of the countryside, lies the Miller family ranch. Have a look into the perfectly “normal” lives of the Miller family, and how their morning starts.

pairing: Cowboy!Joel Miller x Singer!Actress!Reader

warning: 18+ content, Eventual smut, Unprotected sex, Age-Gap (Joel is 41 and the reader is 26) Domestic Bliss, Fluff, a sprinkle of Angst, Flirting, Joel Miller being a girl dad, Joel being hard on the outside but he is a softie, Ellie and Sarah being a chaotic duo, Ellie being a menace, Sarah being a sweetheart.

Series masterlist | next

Soft music filters throughout Joel's room, a gentle serenade that tugs at the corners of his consciousness. As the first rays of sunlight kiss his face, he stirs from slumber, gradually allowing the music and the morning light to rouse him from his dreams.

Joel's eyes flutter open, adjusting to the soft glow that spills into his room. He takes a moment to savor the tranquility of this sacred space, where time seems suspended, and the outside world is held at bay.

The melodic notes of a familiar tune drift through the air, as if carried on a gentle breeze. The music, a delicate dance between piano keys, wraps around him like a comforting embrace, inviting him to embrace the day with a renewed sense of purpose.

As he sits up, the warm hues of the morning sun bathe his face, casting a gentle glow upon his weathered features. The soft sheets slide off his body, showcasing the scars scattering over his naked back and chest.

Joel gazes out of the window, his eyes tracing the contours of the countryside that stretches beyond the ranch's borders. The rolling hills, swathed in a quilt of green, seem to breathe in harmony with the serene symphony that fills the air.

With deliberate movements, Joel swings his legs over the side of the bed, his bare feet connecting with the worn, rustic wooden floor. The texture of the weathered planks presses against the soles of his feet, grounding him in the tangible reality of the world.

Inhaling deeply, Joel's hands instinctively reach for the roof, his fingers interlocking as he stretches his arms overhead. The muscles in his back ripple beneath his skin, as he stretches, a satisfying groan escapes his lips, the tension slowly dissipating with each movement.

The morning light dances through the open window, casting a warm glow upon Joel's strong silhouette.

Feeling the gentle pull in his muscles, Joel allows his body to yield to the stretch, a momentary release from the weight of his responsibilities. As his body finds its balance, a sense of urgency surges through Joel's veins.

The day ahead of him is long and full of tasks he has to complete before he can see his bed for rest again. With each stretch, he sheds the remnants of sleep, embracing the call of the waking world.

Releasing the stretch, Joel slowly lowers his arms, allowing them to fall gracefully by his sides. He stands tall, his back muscles flexing and relaxing, attuned to the rhythm of his body.

In this quiet moment, Joel takes a final breath, savoring the crisp morning air that fills his lungs.

With a purposeful stride, Joel makes his way into the bathroom, the steady rhythm of his steps echoing in the quiet solitude of the house. The soft music follows him, a loyal companion that refuses to fade into the background.

Joel descends the creaking stairs of the Miller household, his steps deliberate and measured. With each footfall, the sounds of morning embrace him—the soft murmur of his daughters' laughter, and the enchanting melodies that weave through the air.

As he reaches the final step, the kitchen comes into view, a tableau of warmth and familial bliss. The room is adorned with the rustic charm of well-loved furniture, bathed in the gentle glow of morning light that filters through the windows. The tantalizing aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the scents of a hearty breakfast, creating a symphony of enticing fragrances.

And there, in the heart of it all, Joel's eyes alight upon a sight that warms his soul. His daughters, Ellie and Sarah, stand in the middle of the kitchen, both sway to the beat, hand in hand with huge grins on their faces.

Their laughter dances in the air as the music wraps around them, an invisible thread that binds their hearts in a shared moment of joy. Their synchronized movements reflect the unbreakable bond between the two.

Joel leans against the doorframe, his heart swelling with love and admiration. The music, a gentle backdrop to the scene, guides their movements as they twirl and spin, their laughter filling the room like a delicate symphony. In this moment, time seems to slow, as if caught in the delicate embrace of their shared happiness.

With a fond smile playing upon his lips, Joel takes a step forward, entering the kitchen with a quiet reverence. His presence goes unnoticed for a brief moment, as he allows himself to soak in the beauty of this family tableau—the unguarded laughter, the carefree dance, and the unspoken bond that binds them together.

Sarah allows Ellie to spin her by her hand, gracefully, her radiant spirit illuminating the room. Her laughter echoes like a melody, cascading through the space as she twirls with an elegance that belies her youthful exuberance. In her, Joel sees a reflection of innocence and hope, a beacon of light in a world often clouded by darkness.

Beside Sarah, Ellie, the younger of the two, matches her sister's every step with a mixture of determination and playful mischief. Her infectious laughter fills the air, interweaving with the music in a harmonious duet. In her eyes, Joel sees a reflection of his own spirit—the fire and determination that burns within her, a testament to the resilience they both possess.

"Here it comes, Ellie, wait," Sarah says to her sister, her voice brimming with excitement and anticipation.

Joel, captivated by the scene unfolding before him, approaches the dancing duo. A curious smile plays at the corners of his lips as he gazes at his daughters, their shared secret evident in their sparkling eyes.

“What's got y'all so excited, Sarah? Ellie?” Joel's voice broke through the room, warm and tinged with curiosity.

Startled by their father's presence, the girls halt their dance, their laughter lingering in the air like a melody that refuses to fade. Turning towards Joel, their expressions brim with delight, their eyes shining with a shared secret.

"Dad!" Ellie exclaims, a mischievous twinkle in her eye, “We're dancing to Sarah's favorite part of the song. It's coming up!"

Sarah's face lights up, her excitement contagious. "Yeah, Dad! You have to hear it. It's the most magical part!"

Joel chuckles softly, his heart swelling with pride at the connection between his daughters. He nods, fully embracing the moment, and joins them in the center of the kitchen. He wraps his arms around his daughters, forming a circle of love and warmth.

For the first time since the morning began, Joel directs his attention to the lyrics being sung by the artist. Until now, he had been captivated by the melodies, lost in the enchanting dance of music that had filled the air.

“Ladies and gentlemen, will you please stand?

With every guitar string scar on my hand I take this magnetic force of a man to be my lover

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover”

As the song fills the room, Joel's ears capture every note, every inflection in the artist's voice. Mesmerized by the singer's enchanting tone, his heart swells with a newfound appreciation for the beauty of the lyrics.

The artist's voice, rich and soulful, carries an exquisite purity that reaches the depths of his being. Her vocal prowess effortlessly glides through each line, infusing the lyrics with a profound sense of longing and authenticity.

With each verse, the singer's voice caresses Joel's senses, weaving a tapestry of emotions that resonate within him. There is an ethereal quality to her delivery, as if she has tapped into a universal thread of human experience, evoking a profound connection with her listeners.

As the final notes of the song fade into silence, Joel remains immersed in the echoes of the singer's voice. He stands there, in the heart of the kitchen, pleased that there are such artists, because he has seen some artists with the most vulgar and nonsensical lyrics.

With a gentle smile playing on his lips, Joel turns his attention back to his daughters, who are watching him with a question in their eyes and excitement etched on their faces.

“So, did you like it, Dad?” Sarah asks, her eyes wide with anticipation, her voice filled with the hope of his approval.

Joel chuckles, a warmth spreading through his chest as he gazes at his daughters and the eager look on their faces, reminding him of when they were younger.

Joel shrugs his shoulder as he takes hold of his coffee mug, “"Well, I reckon it's alright, girls,” he says, his tone warm and measured. "Can't say it's my usual cup of tea.”

Both Sarah and Ellie exchange a glance, and in perfect synchronization, they raise their brows, shifting their weight to one hip, and cross their arms over their chests.

Sarah tilts her head to the side, her voice laced with a touch of sass. "Come on, Dad. We know you secretly love it. Admit it."

Ellie nods in agreement, a smirk playing on her lips. "Yeah, Dad. We saw you tapping your foot to the beat."

Joel feigns an expression of mock surprise, his eyes widening comically. "Tapping my foot? I have no idea what you're talking about.”

"Plus, this is the Hollywood's sweetheart we're talking about," Ellie chimes in, admiration ringing in her tone. "Everyone loves her songs. You can't not love her song.”

Sarah nods enthusiastically, her smile widening. "Exactly, Dad! She's a sensation, a queen, a gazelle, the ruler of my heart.”

Ellie interjects, her voice filled with a reverent awe. "You also haven’t listened to her best album. Reputation is a true masterpiece."

“No.” Sarah attracts her sister’s attention, “have you heard lover and folklore. They are totally better than reputation.”

Ellie turns to her sister and narrows her eyes at Sarah. "Better than Reputation? Are you kidding me, Sarah? Reputation is a masterpiece. It's edgy, it's bold, and every song is a powerful anthem."

Sarah raises an eyebrow, her voice filled with challenge. "Oh, please, Ellie. Lover and folklore have such a depth and beauty to them. The lyrics are poetic, and the melodies are simply enchanting. Reputation may be powerful, but these albums speak to the soul."

Ellie crosses her arms, a determined glint in her eyes. "But Reputation is a journey, Sarah. It's unapologetic and raw, capturing the essence of human emotions. Each track tells a story, and it's an album that demands to be heard."

Joel watches his daughters go back and forth, their eyes alight with enthusiasm and their voices filled with playful banter. He listens to their spirited debate, finding amusement and joy in their shared love for music.

Just as the argument between Sarah and Ellie reaches a crescendo, a voice cuts through the air, interrupting their spirited discussion. "What are you two talking about? Midnights is clearly better," a deep voice interjects.

Joel lets out a weary groan, his hand instinctively reaching up to rub his temples. The gentle thud of his forehead meeting the kitchen island reverberates through the room, a physical expression of his exasperation. Tommy's mischievous jabs never fail to escalate the playful debates between the girls, adding fuel to the fire instead of settling their arguments.

As if on cue, Tommy and Maria enter the kitchen, their presence adding to the lively atmosphere. Tommy wears a self-satisfied grin, relishing in the chaos he has stirred, while Maria follows closely behind, her expression mirroring Joel's exasperation.

Joel meets Maria's gaze, their shared understanding evident in the subtle exchange of glances. They both know that when Tommy gets involved, things have a tendency to escalate rather than settle down. It's a familiar dance they've witnessed countless times, the dynamic between Tommy's mischief and their attempts to maintain order.

Maria places a hand on Joel's arm, offering a reassuring squeeze, before turning her attention to Tommy. Her voice carries a hint of resignation as she speaks. "Tommy, I thought we agreed to keep the peace this morning. Can't we all just enjoy breakfast without diving into another spirited debate?"

Ellie nods, a mischievous glint in her eyes, as she leans closer to her uncle. "Yeah, Uncle Tommy, you really shouldn't start debates, especially when you're clearly on the wrong side.”

Tommy feigns offense, his hand dramatically clutching his heart. "Why, you little brat! Have you forgotten who taught you about good music taste?" he exclaims, his voice laced with mock indignation.

"Umm... Dad," Sarah interjects, a smirk playing on her lips. "I hate to break it to you, Uncle Tommy, but it was actually Dad who introduced us to good music.”

Ellie can't resist the urge to high five Sarah, their palms connecting with a satisfying smack. Their laughter fills the kitchen, the shared moment of victory enhancing their sisterly bond. They watch as mock hurt falls over Uncle Tommy's face, his expression a mix of playfulness and defeat.

Joel can't help but chuckle at his daughters' quick-witted retorts, finding amusement in their playful banter with Uncle Tommy. He shakes his head, a grin spreading across his face as he joins the conversation.

"Now, now, let's not gang up on poor Tommy," Joel says, his tone filled with feigned sympathy. "After all, he might need a little extra help in developing his music taste."

Tommy dramatically places a hand over his heart, a theatrical pout forming on his lips. "Oh, I see how it is. The betrayal from my own family," he laments, his voice dripping with exaggerated despair.

Maria, her voice laced with affectionate amusement, interrupts the friendly banter. "Alright, alright, enough of the musical debates for now. We can continue this later. But girls, it's time to start getting ready for school."

Joel watches as the girls nod in agreement, their playful expressions shifting to ones of obedience. They exchange a quick glance before scampering up the stairs, their footsteps fading into the distance and into their respective bedrooms.

As the girls make their way upstairs, he turns his attention to the task at hand—preparing breakfast for the family.

With a determined stride, Joel glides around the kitchen, his hands deftly reaching for the essentials—flour, sugar, milk, and eggs to get started on thise blueberry pancakes the girl were begging him to make.

Joel sets the ingredients on the counter, his hands moving with practiced ease. Measuring and mixing ingredients in a bowl, he settles in a familiarity of the process.

Maria leans against the kitchen counter, her hand resting gently on her growing belly. She takes a sip of her juice, her eyes dancing with curiosity as she glances toward Tommy and Joel. "So, boys," she says, her voice filled with warmth, "what do you have planned for the day?"

Tommy casts a warm smile at his wife, Maria, as he leans back in his chair at the kitchen island, "Well, I gotta run on down into town to fetch some supplies for the ranch. We're runnin' low on essentials, and I reckon it's 'bout time to restock 'em."

Joel nods in agreement with Tommy's plan, "Sounds like a plan, Tommy. We'll need those supplies to make sure everything keeps tickin' around here."

Maria's eyes sparkle with curiosity as she turns her attention to Joel. "And what about you, Joel? Any big plans for the day?"

Joel pauses, a thoughtful expression crossing his face as he takes a moment to think about his plans for the day. "Well, I reckon there's a few fences that need mendin' along the northern pasture. With the recent storms, some of the posts have been knocked out of place. Gotta make sure those cattle don't go wanderin' off."

“Well boys, you two have got a long day ahead of you.” Maria says, taking a sip from her juice.

"What 'bout you, honey? What are you gonna be doin' today? Tommy questions, taking a hold of his wife’s hand.

Maria offers a warm smile, her fingers intertwining with Tommy's as she speaks. "Well, I've got a full day of work ahead of me at the office. There's a big project I've been working on, and it needs my attention. But don't you worry, boys. I'll be back before you know it."

Tommy’s gaze softens as he listens to Maria's words, a mixture of admiration and concern in his eyes. "Take care of yourself, honey. Of yourself and the little one." he says, his voice filled with genuine warmth.

Joel, now focused on flipping the pancakes, chimes in, his voice filled with reassurance. "You heard him, Maria. Take it easy and don't overdo it.”

Maria offers Joel and Tommy a soft smile, her gaze filled with gratitude and love, “Of course, I will. Now, how about those pancakes.”

Joel reaches for the syrup, pouring a generous drizzle over the golden-brown pancakes, the sweet fragrance filling the air. "Breakfast is served," he announces, placing the playe in front of Maria.

Maria's eyes light up with anticipation as Joel places the plate of steaming pancakes before her, "Thank you, Joel.”

Joel returns her smile, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's my pleasure, Maria.”

Joel's attention shifts as he hears the soft patter of footsteps descending the stairs. He turns, a warm smile spreading across his face as Ellie and Sarah make their way into the kitchen, their laughter and youthful energy filling the space.

The girls join the gathering at the kitchen island, their eyes lighting up at the sight of the tantalizing spread before them. They take their seats, excitement bubbling within them, ready to indulge in their father's culinary masterpiece.

"Blueberry pancakes! Dad, I love you," Ellie exclaims, her voice filled with unabashed delight. Without hesitation, she eagerly reaches for her fork, ready to dive headfirst into the culinary masterpiece before her.

Joel chuckles, his heart swelling with affection for his daughters. "Well, I love you too, you little shit. Even though you make my life so much more chaotic everday.”

Ellie's eyes sparkle with mischief as she flashes Joel a open mouthed smile, her mouth still full of pancake.

Sarah's laughter mingles with the sounds of breakfast, filling the room with her infectious joy. As she takes another bite of her pancakes, Joel's gaze shifts towards her, his eyes filled with both amusement and tenderness.

"And you, little miss," Joel says, his voice laced with playful reproach, “you’re no saint either.”

The laughter of Joel's daughters fills the kitchen, intertwining with the delicious aromas and the gentle melodies still lingering in the air. He watches as their smiles illuminate the room, their youthful energy contagious and their presence a constant reminder of the love that resides within these walls.

As the girls savor their breakfast, Joel takes a moment to soak in the scene before him. The familiar sights and sounds of the kitchen, the warmth of family gathering around the table, are the ingredients that nourish his soul. In these moments, he feels a profound gratitude for the simple joys that life has bestowed upon him.

The morning light continues to pour through the windows, casting a soft glow upon the scene, as if nature itself is bestowing its blessing upon this humble family gathering. Joel feels a sense of contentment settle within him, a reassurance that, despite the challenges and uncertainties that lie beyond their ranch, they have each other to lean on.

☼ Please note that I do not wish to have my work translated or published on any third party reading websites. I claim the rights to my work.

☼ Where I don’t have any rights to the characters, many ideas and OC are my own creation. Please respect that.

[atombonniebaby]

Love in the Crosshairs: Just the Thing I need

Some notes!

(Love in the Crosshairs is my Nate and MacCready series 🙌 Part one begins Vanilla blends into SS2's storyline and jumps between Nate and Mac's POV)

(Note on the title: When Jake did his "Why it's an ASAM, just the thing I need!" I was fully invested in Sim Settlements 2 🤣)

Now that I have finally complete SS2, I know exactly how this whole thang plays out 💪🏻 I got 4 chapters for ya! (and then some...but those ain't in order yet 🤣)

----

Relationships: Nate & MacCready (father-son dynamic🙌), Nate/Jake Evans (SS2) MacCready/Sturges

Chapter 1: War Never Changes.

(I've posted this prologue before...but I have more chapters!)

Sanctuary Hills October 23, 2077.

Deep red leaves rustled in the crisp autumn air as the sun began to creep up over the hillside, casting a murky haze over the serene show of contemporary suburban living, America's "Homes of the Future." The residents of Sanctuary Hills lived in blissful ignorance as the world held its breath to the ever-present threat of Nuclear Devastation. Amidst the suburban sprawl, the morning sun warmed the cheeks of Nathanial Alasdair Watt, Nate to his nearest and dearest.

Nate leaned over a dusty blue cot, his eyes not quite believing that the soft and squishy bundle snoring away was his son. Months old already, how long would it be before he would be chasing after him around the cul-de-sac? With a lingering glance over Shaun, Nate slipped out of his room and stepped into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. The house was quiet, and Nate's footsteps echoed in the empty hall, leading him to the kitchen.

"Ah, Master Nate! Good morning, sir!” Codsworth chirped, his eye stalks flitting in greeting. "Your coffee. 173.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection!"

"Ah'll take yer word for it," Nate yawned, a fond smile spreading across his face as he reached for the steaming mug of coffee.

"Ah, of course, my apologies, Sir. 78.61 degrees Celcius!"

Nate snorted. "I flunked maths, son. Just say it's hot."

Codsworth let out a chuckle. "Ah, I forgot, the young miss is the brains of the operation."

"Aye, that she is. But she'll no be without a proper feedin'. Could you go rouse her for me?" Nate asked.

"Of course, Sir! Right away!" Codsworth trilled, floating away towards El's room.

"Good luck wi' that," Nate muttered, shaking his head. El liked her sleep, that one.

Nate chuckled, running a hand over his head, and frowned at the resistance. Big speech tonight. He could hardly rock up looking a scruffy mess, could he? With a sigh, he set his mug down and stretched out his back on the way to the bathroom.

"Lemme Sleep, Codsworth..."El's voice drifted through her door.

Ah, to be 19 again. Nate shook his head, smirking to himself as he turned to the closed-over bathroom door, a wide smile pulling in his cheeks when Nora's sweet voice filtered through, Shaun's favorite lullaby on her tongue. Nate would never tire of it or how her voice sent shivers down his spine.

"You're up early. How's my little man?" she asked as he stepped through the door. "I'm assuming you've been in there five times already?"

Nora, even under those horrid fluorescent bulbs, looked stunning. He caught her eye in the mirror she was brushing her hair in and gave her a wink. Nate took a few steps toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips brushing her neck. She hummed and leaned back into his embrace.

"What can I say, doll? Just like his mother, I cannae believe he's mine," Nate murmured, burying his face in her soft, icy-brown hair. "I keep thinkin' somebody's gonna pinch me, and I'll wake up from this dream."

Nora twisted in his arms, her green eyes sparkling. "You're a wonderful father, Nate. You shouldn't doubt yourself!"

"I hope so," Nate said, his ears growing hot. Nora knew him too well, and his bashful side never could stand up to her praise.

"I think Beth would agree with me. I mean, you practically raised that girl!"

Nate ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her nose. "She dotes on you, ye ken? She won't admit it, but she does."

"I like her too. I'm glad she's here. Now, care to explain why you interrupted my morning ritual?" Nora teased.

"I need some pamperin'," he raised his eyebrows. "Cannae hae this 'decorated war hero' looking like common street riff-raff, now can we?"

"Hmm," Nora smirked. "I dunno, that rugged Viking look is growing on me, Nathanial."

"Ooh, using my full name, eh?" he teased. "Am I in trouble, then, Mrs Watt?"

"You're always trouble, Nathanial Watt," Nora giggled.

"Tell the truth, doll. That's the real reason you married me, wasn't it?" Nate smirked. "That and the accent, aye?"

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove away, returning to the mirror. Nate's grin lingered, his hands sliding to her waist. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and rested his chin upon it, gazing at her reflection. She met his eyes, a warmth and tenderness reflected at him.

"I love you, lass," he murmured against her hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "More than I can say."

Nora didn't speak, only leaned back, melting against him, a familiar gesture that spoke volumes. Nate's arms tightened, and he closed his eyes, wishing they could stay like that forever.

"Go get your trimmer; I'll at least neaten you up a little," Nora said, her voice thick. "Then, I'll see about breakfast."

Nate pressed one last kiss to her head and drew a sharp breath. "Yes, ma'am."

"—war never changes,” Nate sighed, the steamy air heavy with the weight of his speech.

“You're gonna knock 'em dead at the Veteran's Hall tonight, hon,” Nora purred, her fingers massaging the knots from his shoulders.

"Ye think?" Nate relaxed against her touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

"Absolutely. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror..."

"Right," Nate snorted. He stepped away and let Nora take his place. "You might want to fix the buttons on your blouse, love."

He couldn't help a small smirk tugging on his lips as she re-buttoned her blouse, not quite meeting his gaze.

"Wipe that smug look off your face, Mr. Watt! You're the reason I never get anything done around here!" Nora teased.

Nate couldn't help bursting out laughing. "Why dae ye think I bought Codsworth?"

"Out!" Nora laughed, pushing him towards the door.

"Love ye too, darlin'." Nate gave her a mock salute and stumbled out of the bathroom.

"Miss Elspeth, breakfast was served thirty minutes ago!" Codsworth's muffled voice met him through the opposing door.

"Codsy! Bugger off!...and 'ave told ye… it's Beth!" came El's equally muffled reply.

"My, my. For such a brilliant young mind, Miss Beth, your language leaves much to be desired."

"Get tae fuck, or I'll turn ye into a toaster!" El spat back, a bit louder this time.

"By God! I don't believe General Atomics programmed me with enough patience for this!" Codsworth sighed.

"I'll handle this." Nate interrupted, opening the door.

"Good luck, that child's got the mouth of a drunkard."

"I'm weeks away from twenty ye daft bucket o' bolts!" El retorted.

Codsworth sighed, bobbing past him a little less chipper than before. Poor bugger.

Nate chuckled and shook his head. Wearing that damn onesie, she was akin to an overgrown toddler in a babygro. El glared at him, her hazel eyes flashing with a fire that reflected his own, her cheeks flushed, auburn hair still a tangled mess, reminding him exactly why he opted for a smooth dome.

"Arse. Up. Now. Or I promise you I'll cancel that comic subscription I already reluctantly pay for."

El's eyes narrowed, a defiant glint remaining, a slight smirk curving her lips. "Ye wouldnae dare."

"Try me," Nate raised a brow and folded his arms. "And to rub it in, I'll replace it with one about all the latest fashion trends, braw big frilly skirts and whatnot..."

"Fine. Ye win." El rolled her eyes, sauntering past him.

"Smart move," Nate smirked.

"Bite me!" El snapped, stomping into the now vacant bathroom.

Nate chuckled, shaking his head, and approached the kitchen, his stomach growling in anticipation.

"Breakfast is served sir," Codsworth set down a plate of eggs and toast.

"Thanks. And if ye need the afternoon off to recharge after the morning ye've had, you take it!" Nate smirked.

"A good show of humor, sir, but with a steady supply of Mr. Handy fuel, I am proud to serve!" Codsworth chirped.

"Attaboy."

"Your thoughts?" Nora's voice drifted over him, snapping his attention back to the present.

Nate blinked, glancing at his wife. She was studying him, her brows knitted. Damn. "I'm worried about her, doll. She won't admit it, but she's been having trouble sleeping again. I cannae remember the last time I saw her without dark circles under her eyes."

"She's just stressed. It's been a big year for her. Why don't you take her away for a few days? It's been a while since you two had time together," Nora suggested. "You could take a little road trip or something?"

"Aye, I'd been considering it, but I can hardly leave you with the wee one, can I?"

"I've got Codsworth to help. And besides, Shaun's not exactly a handful." Nora grinned, nudging him. "Take her. Trust me, she needs it."

Nate chewed his lip, his brows furrowed. Maybe she had a point. El had always loved his impromptu adventures.

"Okay, I'll talk to her about it—"

"Talk to me about what?" El asked, walking into the living room, her frown deepening as she looked between them. "I'm sorry! I know I've been—"

"No, stop right there! " Nate shushed her. "Ye don't go apologizing...I know you've been overloaded lately with all your projects."

El shrugged, dropping onto the couch beside him, her eyes fixed on the TV. "Yeah, I guess. It's just a lot, and I—"

"Deserve a break? Me and Nora reckon you've earned one," Nate grinned, nudging her. "So, how about we take off in a day or two? It's been a while since we've done a drive together, just you and me?"

"Wait, you're serious?" El stared at him, a smile breaking across her face, but her frown returned as she turned to Nora. "You're okay with that?"

"Are you kidding? Some peace and quiet, hell yeah, I'm okay with that," Nora barked a laugh. "And Codsworth's here to help, so I'll be fine."

"I like her, Nate. Can we keep her?" El smirked.

Nate's laughter bubbled, shaking his head. "Aye, she's a keeper, alright."

Nora gave them a fond smile, rising from the couch."Alright, you two, I'm going to help Codsworth tidy up, give you time to plan."

"Thanks, love," Nate's fingers curled hers as she pulled away, before turning his attention back to El.

"So, short-stop, any votes on where ye want tae go?"

"Laurey, Virginia—"

"The Caverns, again, lass?" Nate's eyebrow quirked.

"Come on, it's been months since we went to D.C. We could do a day trip to Laurey and then spend the rest of our time exploring the Capital!"

"Fine, but that damn mole costume is stayin' put!" Nate chuckled.

"She looked adorable in that thing. Never know, maybe she'll catch someone's eye!" Nora's laughter floated over them from the kitchen, and Nate grinned.

El blushed, her hand rubbing against the back of her head sheepishly. "I'll stick to studying, ta—"

"Quite right. I don't think there'd be many nerdy, bookworm Spelunkers out there that could put up with your pish!" He couldn't resist.

El's nose wrinkled, and her eyes narrowed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence—jackass."

Nate snorted and leaned back, his arms draped over the back of the couch, tuning into the TV.

The same usual shite.

A knocking came to the door, and Nora sighed. "It's probably that salesman. He's been trying all morning, insisting he talks to you."

"Oh, great." Nate rolled his eyes and lurched out of the sofa.

An all-smiles fella in a trenchcoat greeted him when he opened the door, stepping forward. "Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!"

"Sup, chief," he deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe.

"You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you," the rep explained.

Nate frowned—something about the guy's tone made him nervous.

"Alright, son, I'm here now."

"So you are, so you are,' the rep chuckled. "I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault. Vault 111. I just need to verify some information. That's all! Don't want there to be any hold ups, in the unforeseen event of *ahem*...total atomic annihilation."

"But there's room for my entire family, right?"

"Of course. Of course! Minus your robot, naturally."

"Oi, Codsworth is family!" El retorted, appearing at his side, her eyes narrowed. "He's a wee gem! We can't just leave him!"

Nate's hand fell upon his sister's shoulder, squeezing it. "General Atomics promised Codsworth could survive anything, even a nuclear blast," he reminded her, her sentiment mirrored in his heart. "Go. I've got it from here."

El nodded, a defiant glint remaining in her eyes, but she stepped aside.

Nate glanced at the rep, his unease growing."All right, let's have it."

"Splendid, splendid. Let's get to it. Just need you to fill out this paperwork, and we're all done. Won't take but a moment."

The rep pulled a clipboard out of his briefcase and held it out towards him.

Nate frowned, his jaw tense, glancing down at the stack of papers. He took the clipboard and scanned the pages, his frown deepening.

"What makes me 'S.P.E.C.I.A.L?' That's a bit on the nose, is it no? And this whole damn thing seems a wee bit excessive, no offense, son."

"None taken! It's simply a matter of determining what roles you may be able to undertake in a new life underground!"

"Well, lucky for us, we have a certified vault technician in our fold. My sister just finished her Masters at C.I.T. Did a whole project around Vault safety and maintenance," Nate couldn't help the proud smile creeping into his cheeks.

"Masters? At C.I.T?" the rep's eyebrows shot up. "My, my, that's impressive."

"Aye, she got the brains of the family. I clearly got the looks," Nate joked, handing the clipboard back to the rep. "Think that's everything, chief."

"Wonderful! That's..." he skimmed over the documents, smiling. "Yes, indeed, that is everything... just gonna walk this over to the Vault! Congratulations on being prepared for the future!"

"Aye, thanks..." Nate forced a smile, his jaw still tense. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I have a wee one who needs a bit of a feed."

"Of course, have a great day, sir, ma'am!" The Vault-Tec rep tipped his hat and strolled off, the tension in the man's shoulders not lost on him.

He watched the rep go, his instincts prickling as he stepped back inside."Something aboot that didn't sit right, did it, El?"

"I didn't like it, Nattie. You don't think he's doing this because—"

"Elspeth, don't get him started," Nora interrupted, her voice strained. "It's just a precaution, that's all."

Nate swallowed his throat tight. "Maybe ye're right, doll, but just in case, we should double-check the go bags."

Shaun's wails rang through the house. Cutting through his words, Codsworth followed.

"Master Nate. Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down. I think he needs some of that "paternal affection" you seem to be so good at."

"I've got 'im." Nate smiled and strode down the hall, his unease lingering. Nora's footfalls followed.

"Right, ye wee gremlin," Nate teased, sweeping a finger over Shaun's cheek. Shaun's cries grew fainter, his teary gaze fixed on Nate.

"Spin the mobile a bit. He loves that," Nora cooed, stepping up beside him.

Nate gave the mobile a gentle spin. Shaun's gaze drifted to the spinning rockets, green eyes wide, and his cries now soft whimpers. Nora brushed Nate's arm with her hand.

"Maybe we should go out later, a walk in the park?"

"And miss the World Series on TV? Not going to happen." Nate smirked. "But tomorrow, I'm all yours! I promise."

"I'll hold you to—"

"Sir? Mum? You should come and see this!" Codsworth's urgent voice drifted over them.

Nate frowned, exchanging a glance with Nora. "Codsworth?"

"I've got Shaun," Nora assured him, scooping the baby up.

Nate hurried out of the nursery, a knot forming in his gut, his blood rushing. "Codsworth? What is it, son?"

"Sir... the news..."

El was perched on the couch, her knuckles white around her backpack, its contents organized on the coffee table. "They actually did it."

"Did what, lass?" Nate frowned, sitting beside her.

“—followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions..." the news anchor caught his attention. "We're... we're trying to get confirmation…But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations."

"What? What is he saying?" Nora's voice drifted over them. "…Oh no.”

“...We do have... coming in... confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania…My God.”

The screen crackled, and the signal was lost. Nate's gaze fixed on the 'Please Stand By' screen. His mouth ran dry, a cold sweat prickling across his forehead.

"We have to get to the Vault. Now! Get all that back in the bag. I'll grab the rest." Nate blurted, his heart pounding against his ribs.

"Nattie...I'm scared."

"We're goin' tae be fine, El. We've prepared for this...You two wait for me outside!" Nate instructed, racing into their bedroom.

He yanked open the closet, his hands trembling, hauling out his and Nora's packs, followed by Shaun's. He slung them over his shoulder and hurried through the house for the front door—stopping on the threshold, glancing over his shoulder at Codsworth.

The Mr. Handy's eye stalks flitted over him, and he glided forward. "Goodbye, sir. May I say what an honor it has been to serve you and your family!"

"Ye've done us proud, son...maybe we could—"

"Now, don't you worry about me, sir! You have your family to think about. Go on."

Nate nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "Thank you, Codsworth..."

"He'll be alright, won't he?" El's voice pulled his attention.

He stepped onto the sidewalk and grabbed his sister's hand. "He'll be fine. Now c'mon, we gotta move!"

They raced down the road, Nora ahead of him, Shaun cradled against her chest. Nate swallowed hard, his hand tightening around El's. His mind raced. Vault-Tec. The rep—he knew something was up. That bastard knew this was coming!

"Nattie?" El tugged his arm, slowing.

"We're almost there, lass. Keep moving! Come on, we're nearly there—"

"We're on the list!" Nora's frantic voice greeted them, and Nate frowned as that Vault-Tec rep darted by them.

A soldier blocked their way, checking over a clipboard."Infant... Adult male... Two adult females... OK, go ahead."

Nate's heart pounded. It was real. This was really happening. They climbed the hill and clambered onto the platform, his arms circling Nora and El.

"Almost there, we're gonna be alright. I love you, all of you." Nate murmured, his pulse throbbing in his ears.

"We love you too," Nora whispered, her gaze locked on his.

The sky lit up with blinding white light, and the ground shook beneath their feet. A deafening roar filled the air. Nate's eyes widened as a mushroom cloud grew colossal in the sky. The blast waves thunder towards them, and El buried her face against his chest. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact.

"Send it down now!" a desperate voice shouted.

An orchestra of "Oh gods" and terrorized screams flooded his ears. The platform shuddered beneath them. His arms held tighter.

The blast crossed over them. The screams echoed, his breaths shortening, the pressure around his ribcage suffocating.

He held Nora, his lips pressed to her head, praying she couldn't hear his racing heartbeat.

The light faded, and the shockwave died, his ears still ringing.

The platform shuddered to a halt.

His eyes met Nora's, tears streaming down her face.

They had made it.

"Everyone, please step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion," the Vault-Tec security guard that greeted them instructed.

El clung to him as Nate made a move to follow the others, her breaths ragged and short. He glanced at Nora, Shaun sleeping soundly in her arms.

"She'll be okay. We're right behind ye," Nate murmured. "We just need a minute."

Nora nodded, her hand resting on his shoulder. "We won't be far. I'll go find out what's what."

"Be right with ye," Nate murmured, kneeling to meet El's gaze. "Hey, hey, look at me, lass. Look at me. Deep breaths. In and out. Like we practiced."

El's eyes flicked up to his, wide and fearful. She bit her lip, nodding. Her next shaky intake of breath was longer.

"Good, lass. Again. In and out."

She followed his lead, and soon enough, El's breaths steadied as her panic subsided, her grip on his loosening.

"You're a natural," Nate grinned, easing himself up.

El didn't respond and instead stood closer. His arm circled her, guiding them toward the vast cog-shaped doorway that loomed above them. Nate's heart beat faster. This was home now, for better or worse.

"It's impressive, eh? No wonder ye wouldny pipe doon about these Vaults!" Nate quipped.

El glanced at him, a faint smirk pulling in her cheeks. Nate squeezed her shoulder, their footsteps ringing as they climbed the metal stairs.

His eyes found Nora as they crossed the metal walkway. An orderly queue had formed behind her as she was collecting something up ahead.

Nora handed him a sealed bag and another for El. He eyed it, noting the '111' matching the jumpsuits some staff were wearing.

"What, do they no' come in a braw purple or maybe fluorescent green?"

El snorted at that, a wry smile curling her lips, and Nate's heart lifted a little. She was okay.

"Just follow the doctor here. He'll show you where to go," one of the scientists instructed.

"Lead the way, doc."

As Nora chatted with the doctor, El pulled away, her steps a little firmer, her gaze still far away.

Nate was drawn to the sudden bite in the air, a shiver running through him as he followed. People chatted, residents to Vault staff. Everyone seemed as edgy as he felt. They were led to a larger room filled with 'decontamination pods,' he was told as he was led towards one.

His attention pulled back to El, her belongings dropping to her feet. She stepped in front of them as one of the staff members attempted to collect them.

"I'm sorry, miss, but you cannot take your—"

Without a word, El unveiled a lanyard from around her neck and fixed them with a stern eye.

"You're a Vault-Tec intern? Very well, but be assured, vault-tec will not be held accountable if anything were to be damaged or stolen."

El nodded, her jaw set, and Nate couldn't help a smirk. Stubborn wee devil. Nate stripped to his boxers and tugged on his Vault suit, his skin prickling.

"Could ye's no have turned on the heatin'? It's colder than a polar bear's arse in here!" Nate grumbled.

El was already suited in her's when he looked up again, leaning against her pod, shoulders slumped, a blank expression set over her feature—still not back to herself yet.

"Can you hold him?" Nora asked, pulling his thoughts. Shaun curled up against her chest.

"Of course, love," Nate scooped him up, letting Nora get herself situated. He walked over to El, her fingers brushing Shaun's cheek, a weak smile curling her lips.

"Ye gonna be alright in there? I know how you get in tight spaces."

She held up her backpack, patting it fondly. Of course, she was always packed for every occasion.

"Right then, guess we'll see ye soon," Nate tried, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Okay, I can take him," Nora's hand rested on his arm, and Nate reluctantly handed Shaun over and planted a kiss against her cheek.

Nate climbed into his pod, and with a hiss, the lid descended, his breath misting the glass. His eyes locked onto Nora's, her gaze locked on him as her own pod closed, and she bounced Shaun in her arms.

"Just try to relax," the doctor reassured.

Nate nodded, pressing his hand against the glass. "Time for a whole new life."

"Resident secure. Occupant vitals: Normal," a robotic voice filled his ears.

A rush of cold flooded his pod. Nate's pulse spiked, his next breath shuddering.

"Procedure complete. In 5... 4..."

With every beat of the countdown, his vision whitened. Frost intertwined his eyelashes with every blink—everything faded.

Nate blinks away the frost that clings to his eyelashes, stretching his jaw to loosen the remainder of his beard and whiskers. It was a cold that hung as heavy as iron chains. Every breath stung his chest like swallowing broken glass as violent coughs wreck through him.

"...Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All vault residents must vacate immediately," The computerized voice echoed through the intercom, and a hiss filled his ears.

As the pod door lifts away, Nate's still-thawing limbs do nothing to prevent him from stumbling forward. His knees crack against the slick steel floor, a haze of mist following him. He didn't dare look up, unwilling to face the truth that the nightmare was real. But there was no escaping the memories that assaulted every fiber of his being: Nora's please, Shaun's cries as they tear him from his mother's embrace. Nate's own screams—lost in the deafening Gunshot that silenced Nora and continued to echo as Shaun's heartbreaking wails faded away—the face that mets him and the words that followed:

At least we still have the backup.

"That scar-faced bastard! Why did he have tae—"

"...Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All vault residents must vacate immediately,"

"Oh, shut up!" Nate yelled as he snapped his head back. "Can ye no see I'm havin' a moment, ye pushy cow!"

Blissful silence filled the chamber once more, and Nate breathed a sigh of relief. As if another entity had taken control of his body, he stood to his full height and ambled forward. His steps were clumsy, and fog engulfed the room as he moved toward Nora's pod. The faint glint of gold caught his eye. Her wedding band shined through the condensation. His fingers trailed over the icy glass.

Nora, his best friend, the woman he pledged his entire life to. Her rosy cheeks were now dusted blue, fear still painted in her expression. Her arms were so painfully absent—Shaun. He's just a baby, and they tore him out of her arms. Nate's knees buckled some, jolting him forward, and he braced himself, breaths coming out in rasps, his lungs constricting, the very walls closing in. His eyes opened over his wedding ring, a matching piece—he'd be dammed if he was leaving her's behind.

"C'mon! C'mon! There has tae be a release!" Nate barked, desperation bleeding into his brogue as he stepped back to take in the pod, reaching for the lever at its side.

His breath held as Nora's pod opened to him. Slowly, reverently, he slipped the ring off her finger, ignoring the spiderwebbing of frosted blood that now decorated her jumpsuit. 

"I'll find who did this, and I'll get Shaun back...I promise," Nate's tremblings slipped Nora's wedding band above his own, and pulled the level to reseal his wife. The door hissed shut, and the frost formed on Nora's pod window. Nate's tears froze on his face, and he stumbled back, his own thawing limbs failing him as he hit the vault floor. He lay there for what felt like an eternity, before finally gathering enough strength to pull himself together.

"Elspeth," he whispered, crawling to his sister's pod. Her features still frozen, that bloody pip-pad clutched between her fingers. Nate clenched his fists and breathed before his shaky hands grip the lever release to El's cryopod, and he is met with an immediate sharp, jolting buzz that has him staggering back.

"Malfunction in Cryo Pod manual release override." A robotic female voice announces over the intercom.

"No-no-no! C'mon! I need tae open this damn thing!" Nate pulls the handle harder. Again, the error noise frays his nerves, not releasing. "Come on!" He presses a palm to the frost-covered glass, feeling the cold sting on his hand. "El!" Tears stream down his cheeks, warm against the cold fog surrounding him. "No. This can't-" His forehead rests against the pod. He closes his eyes tightly and sobs. “Ye cannae do this! I just need tae get El!"

His mind falls back to the terminal those scientist-looking folks were working on when they were after Shaun, how they opened Nora's pod. Nate spins on his heels and sprints forward, almost pummeling into the console as he slides to a halt.

"Right, c'mon. Ye can do this, it's just a computer," Nate squints at the screen with a shaky breath,  gingers still stiff from his suspended animation, rattling the keys, jumping through the entries as quickly as his frozen digits allow.

*************** Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink ***************

Thank you for choosing Vault-Tec!

>Cryogenic Array: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled.

>Life Support: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled.

Pod Occupant Status

POD C1: Miss Watt

>Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

*****************************************************************************

It takes several moments for him to comprehend the words laid bare.

Every occupant record painted the same picture: Cause of Death: Asphyxiation.

"No," Nate sobbed, his fist slamming into the console. "No, she can't be, she can't—Elspeth!...” 

Nate collapses, his knees slamming on the steel, fingers clawing at the frost-covered ground, and a scream rips through him, a blood-curdling wail that echoes out in the empty chamber. Every cell in his body is alight, a sickening, bitter cold fire. His shoulders shake violently, and he balls his fists, pounding them to the floor until his knuckles are raw. He barely feels the biting pain as the fight seeps away, leaving him drained, tears frozen on his cheeks.

Nate doesn't move for a long moment—left alone with his thoughts and the steady Drip. Drip. Drip. of frost melting. His little sister is dead. They're both gone. It would be easy to submit to his grief, crumple over, and lose himself in the pain—but they have his son. He has to find Shaun, even if all he has left is a warped image of a man who ruined his world. A scar-faced bastard whom Nate committed to memory. His fingers curl around the chain of his dog tags, fidgeting the wedding bands between bloodied knuckles, the cold metal grounding him, and as Nate grits his teeth, steeling his heart, and sets his jaw, he stands.

A silent vow plays on his lips: For Shaun. For Nora. And for El. He would rain fire upon whoever took them from him, even if it meant tearing whatever world awaited him apart, one bullet at a time.

He vows it as he looks upon El's face. Russet frost-bitten curls drape across her forehead. A picture so peaceful she may as well be sleeping.

He vows it as his lips graze Nora's cheek before resealing the pod, committing his love's image to memory.

He vows it as his fingers trace Shaun's name, etched in ink within the tan line of his wedding band.

There had to be someone around, Vault Tec staff, maybe someone hid, someone survived. Anyone. Nate forced himself to move, and limped towards the exit. It was slow going, his muscles burning, and his joints ache.

"Hello?! Anyone?!" He stumbled through the door, retracing the steps they'd taken minutes before. Water dripped. Rusted metal. It made no sense. "Am I the only one left?”

Nate caught himself on the wall, the burning in his lungs catching his breath—the coughing that wrecked his body had him holding his chest like it was the only way to keep the air from escaping all together.

‘Just breath Nattie.’

"Oh God, Elspeth," he choked back a sob, falling against the wall, the metal cold on his face. "I can't—I cant--" He coughed again, the spasms sending him to his knees. He'd failed everyone, Nora, Elspeth, Shaun, everyone. Maybe if they'd stayed, got in the car and drove—maye, just maybe they'd have found somewhere safe, somewhere better than here.

He didn't know how long he sat there, the ringing in his ears so loud, his tears so thick he couldn't even see anymore. It took everything he had to pull himself up, and even longer to realize the door they'd passed through was sealed shut. Forcing him another way.

Movement caught in the corner of his eye, and Nate grabbed for the security baton, slowing pacing through the corridor. "Hello?!" He yelled, his voice echoing off the walls, bouncing back—something—a shadow, a rustle—moved, and Nate froze.

He had to dreaming, maybe the freeze box messed up his mind. A cockroach, bigger than a rat scuttled across the damp floor, it's wings pulsing as it seemed to size him up with equal suspicion. Nate backed away, his head pounding, his eyes darting between the insect and the door it was blocking.

"Why'd it have tae be giant beasties? Why couldnae it be something cute like a wee fluffy bunny rabbit?" Nate mutters, his brogue thickening. "Ye picked the wrong day tae piss me aff," he leveled his baton, and charged, his heart racing.

It was over fast, the bug smashed under his heel, a pained chirp the last sound it made. Nate shook the big entrails off his boot and pressed forward into the generator room. The bloody things hissed and zapped as he passed, one more giant roach lay dead, the electricity dancing around it, the smell of cooked meat met his nose.

His stomach churned, and he took a second to steady himself. No time for a weak stomach, not when survival was at stake. Two more met their end, and his eyes fell on a skeleton, a tattered Vault Tec jumpsuit still clinging to the bones. "How is this possible?"

The door to his left hissed open, two more roaches charging through, their mandibles clicking, their wings buzzing. Nate swung wildly, the baton denting the first, sending it reeling. The second, he caught with his hand, squeezing it's guts out until it stopped squirming.

"Still not cute," he muttered, catching his breath, his eyes searching. He had to keep moving, had to find a way out, find Shaun.

The office he came to next was met with a smile, a handgun, ammo, some smokes—no lighter. He loaded the gun and looted anything of use, but the next door was sealed. "This room looks important. El told me their doors seal up in emergencies... Only terminals can open them."

His eyes squinted over the terminal. 'welcome Overseer.' meeting his gaze. "Emergency exit, I guess that's what I'm after. Here goes nothin'."

Click. Clack. Click.

The door hissed open, and Nate stepped through, a deep sigh escaping his lips. "Come on then ye overgrown bugs, I'm ready for ye!" He cried, his fingers tight on the trigger, his heart pounding. Despite his stress. Despite this whole damm shit show. He made every shot.

His reward, was a sealed Vault door and more skeletons. One had a pip-boy, conveniently by the door controls. Nate strapped it on, relieved that someone seemed to work as intended as the device booted up, and after some trial and error, he finally managed to figure out how to activate the door open sequence.

Alarms blared and pistons hissed, Nate busied himself with looting the lockers and grabbing the handgun ammo he found lying around. When the Vault door finally rolled to a stop, he crossed the bridge and found himself standing in the lift back to the surface. "Welcome Home." disappearing as he was hoisted out of sight.

The earth above him split open, blinding light pouring down, Nate shielded his eyes and steadied himself. He was alive. That was what mattered now.

He took a moment to breathe, to process, his fingers finding Nora's ring still on his finger, his jaw set, his eyes blinking back the tears.

As the Sole Survivor of Vault 111, he has nothing left to lose and everything to fight for.

War Never Changes, and Nate was ready to wage it.

Elspeth Rae and Nathanial Alasdair Watt

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Stay Still

A/N: Welcome to another day in quarantine. Here’s part two of Quarantine Harry which I wasn’t expecting to happen, to be honest with you all. Hopefully it lives up to any expectations. As always, stay safe and let me know what you think! Loads of love to you all.

Shout out as always to people I have pestered with this one. @waitingfortwilight for always being the ultimate babe, @harryfeatgaga for being hype woman of the century, @huccimermaidshirts for telling it to me how it is and @haute-romance-quotidienne for fuelling fantasy and possibly making it so we could get a part three!

Enjoy everyone! .x

***

You frowned softly at the intrusion of the morning light against your eyelids. The sound of a soft whistle hit your ears as you slowly roused for another day in quarantine. The sound of the bathroom tap shutting off brought a sense of stillness after Harry had brushed his teeth and washed his hands.

Keeping your eyes closed you heard the way Harry tip-toed around your bedroom, his feet heavy against the flooring regardless of how much he tried to overcompensate in trying to be as quiet as possible. 

A small smile pulled at your lips as you imagined him acting like some drunken teenager trying not to wake his parents as he entered the house after a night out; worse for wear and not interested in being read the riot act for not sensibly drinking.

The sheets next to your feet felt heavier than usual, before suddenly becoming lighter again. You heard the rustle of clothing, followed by a light grunt from Harry as he got dressed at the end of your bed.

Head pushed through the neck of his hoodie, Harry fixed the hood on the clothing item before walking the short distance to the drawers that housed his undergarments and socks. 

The sound of the wood sliding against the draw hinges caused you to cringe, before you bit away your smile as he whispered ‘shit, shit, shit’ quickly in succession due to how unsuccessful he was in not being noisy.

Turning around, Harry saw the way the sheets moved, the up and down of your shoulders letting him know you were laughing at the awful job he was doing. 

“‘S that you laughing at me over there?” 

Harry’s deep morning voice broke through the sleep-filled silence. He stood, still at the end of the bed, looking down the length of your body and willing you to pop your head up to look at him.

“Can see your shoulders moving under the sheets y’know?”

Still hidden by a mound of sheets and luxurious duvet, he heard your less than impressed response. “You’re so shit at being quiet.”

“Who even said that ‘m trying,” he scoffed, trying to pass off his clumsiness as something he had planned, letting his feet take him over to the other side of your bed. To his side.

You felt the familiar dip to the bed, and as he sat down you rolled over to your opposite side to be greeted with the expanse of his back. A soft groan left Harry’s lips as he leaned down to pull on his socks, you guessed his socks simply from the way you heard the band snap against his calves.

When he sat back up straight, you watched as he stretched up and rolled his neck to the side, left and right.

You weren’t prepared for his stare when he turned his head quickly to his right, looking over his shoulder at you. God, he was so frustratingly handsome. 

Over the last couple of days, you’d watched Harry relax in a way that you’d yet to completely get to enjoy. His hair had grown to a length that had your fingers itching to braid at the locks sitting at the top of his head, his facial hair becoming darker, the thicker it got with each passing day that was crossed off on the kitchen calendar. 

And his body. Where did you begin? 

He had confessed to you a couple of nights ago he was considering getting a lock for the fridge. The two of you for some unknown reason falling into a fit of giggles after he’d said it as you lay along the couch together. 

It was something to do with the desperation in his voice when he’d confessed his lack of self control. The rant he’d gone on about how much bread he was eating and how he knew he was ‘just being a greedy bastard’ but he couldn’t help it. 

The thing was, he was working out with it too. You knew that simply because you’d spent far too many hours of the day telling him to ‘shift these bloody weights’ as you stubbed your toe for the fifth time in the space of a week. 

He definitely was putting you to shame. 

Quarantine really was working out for him. His thighs spoke for themselves, and you were sure one day he was going to split the shorts he appeared to be pouring himself into each morning to either do a weights or HIIT session in the middle of the lounge, or the garden if he fancied a change in setting. 

The only thing you had found yourself lifting had been the fork that housed carb after carb. Pasta and potatoes mainly.

You were also lifting liquids to your lips too, staying hydrated was key in quarantine. And luckily for you the cases of wine and champagne that had gone untouched at your wedding towards the latter end of the previous year were buried in the garage of a house that you hadn’t ever thought you’d call home. Lack of flight paths back home and the closing of borders had changed that thought for you however. 

Burying yourself deeper in the pillow beneath the side of your face, you watched Harry as he softly smiled taking in your less than impressed expression.

“Woken up on the wrong side of the bed or summat?” He teased, watching the way your expression scrunched up at him and his annoying love of early mornings.

“It’s not my fault someone kept me up half the night-“

“Didn’t ‘ear yer complaining last night,” his voice teetered off, eyebrows raised.

“Well, ‘m complaining now,” you pushed out your bottom lip, challenging him in a petulant way.

He laughed down his nose, shaking his head as he reached up to pick at the strings of his hoodie. Chin tilted up to the ceiling, you heard the way his tone of voice changed to a strain as he concentrated on tying his usual bow at his neck.

It was almost like he thought of himself as some form of present. 

“‘Av at it then,” he encouraged you to bitch at him with whatever it was that had made you moody. “Eating into m’workout time so best be a good’en.”

“Piss off, you’re not even interested,” you scowled at him, knocking away at his hand as it reached out to touch you.

“Oi,” he frowned. “Don’t do tha’, don’t be like that.”

“‘M not being like anything.” 

Harry’s eyes hardened as they looked at you, holding your gaze with his. You didn’t dare look away or crack a smile, even when you saw his lips start twitching as he found amusement in your childlike pouting. 

Before you knew it, Harry had twisted his body so he was leaning over you, his presence welcomed rather than intimidating. His forearm pressed into the pillow at the side of your head as his free hand brushed at your slightly wild bed head. 

“Gimme a kiss,” he muttered, his lips close to yours. You shook your head, with a small frown thrown at him. “Really gonna let me leave wi’out one?”

You hummed “‘s what you deserve.”

“‘S what I deserve? Me? What ‘ave I done?” He questioned. “You ‘ad a bad dream ‘bout me or summat?”

The silence that lingered after his question had you blushing under his gaze, as you focused anywhere but his eyes. 

“Wha’ did I do this time?” He chuckled, feeling you shift in the soft hold of his arm. “Sorry that dream me is a bit of a knob’ead, I’ll ‘av a word.” 

“You better,” you huffed. 

“‘S as good as done, ‘f you let me have tha’ kiss,” he whispered, leaning in and pressing his face against the skin of your cheek. 

His attempt at bribery meant he had basically won you over the minute he rubbed his lips down your chin and jaw, the feel of his beard harsher against your sensitive morning skin that still held its warmth from your nights sleep.

“Harry,” you giggled, wanting to curse yourself out at how you had buckled under him. Body tense as your head dipped into the pillow below as you tried to get away from the tickle of his facial hair.

Mouth pressed to your neck, Harry chuckled before opening his lips and leaving a gentle suckle against your pulse point while your fingers wove into his longer than usual hair. He knew he had you in the palm of his hand.

Your voice was breathy when it next spoke to him, velvety and happy as he nudged his nose lovingly along your skin. “Stop being a daft git.”

“Know exactly what would sort you out,” he whispered in return, making his way back up to your lips. “Come an’ hike wi’me,” he drawled, watching the way your eyes lulled to a hooded gaze. 

You started to groan as Harry left a soft but pert peck to your lips. “‘M leaving in five,” he said, hand sliding down your back that was covered in your duvet. “Up yer get, meet you downstairs.”

The jolt of his hand against your bum, two swift and dull claps against the duvet material surprised you, before he pushed his body up and swiftly left your bedroom ready to start a new day.

***

You didn’t like the message that was on his hat.

You hated even more so that you were letting it bother you. 

The horrible 70s font of ‘free and easy’ was unnecessarily winding you up. This man was a married man. Hardly the correct message to be portraying. 

Eyes watched as Harry walked heavily in front of you, attacking the hill that you were both climbing, you lingered behind him. 

His legs, the muscles in them we’re enticing to you but only in a way that was winding you up. How was he so fucking tanned already? His skin was so weathered that it always managed to piss you off at just how quickly he became a lovely shade of golden. His legs tanned better than yours did. In fact his everything tanned better than you did. His everything in general was doing better than yours.

Here you were once again being irritable. Frowning at anything and everything. Snappy but unable to figure out why. He was always so happy, you know? And you loved it, you really did but sometimes it was too much. 

California had many a hiking spot. The knowledge of making it easily one of the best things about the place. Anything else, you could do without, but the hiking was always worth the struggle it took to even convince you to take part in the first place.

The sound of the gravel beneath your trainers, the sun beating down onto your skin, you watched as Harry’s trainer clad feet started to turn to you as he began to halt his pace.

Huffing and puffing your way behind Harry, you watched the way he tugged at the straps of his backpack and trekked along the desert like ground beneath your feet.

Looking up at him, you saw him move his sunglasses off his eyes and you swore if he placed them on top of the peak of his hat you were going to divorce him. Luckily, for him, he didn’t. 

Sunglasses folded in his hand, you squinted up at him and waited for whatever it was he was going to say. “Told you, you should’ve brought a hat,” he shouted down to you, his voice carrying as you were surrounded by nothing but open space.

“I’m fine, just need to keep hydrated,” you held your water bottle up to him.

“You sure? You’re so slow-“

Before you could stop yourself you snapped at his teasing, “I’m social distancing, Harry!”

His eyes were wide from your response, his lips rolling into his mouth as he looked on at you harshly pulling open the lid of your water bottle and taking a large sip of your drink.

“Alright,” he dragged the word, his tone pitched slightly higher. “Like a bear wi’a sore head this morning, aren’t ya?”

“‘M beginning to think dream you is a lot better than real-life you,” you spoke, eyes refusing to look at him as you checked to see if anyone was around while you. 

“‘S not true,” he softly responded, walking back down the hill to be closer to you. You knew he was right as well. “What’s up with you?”

Again you stubbornly took a sip of your water and squinted in the sunlight. “Darlin’,” Harry coaxed. “D’ya think-“

“No,” you stopped him before he could even begin to let his head carry himself away down the rabbit hole of baby talk. The baby talk that had been planted by his mother to begin with, the one thing that he had previously been trying to nip in the bud. 

He was back to being amused again, you knew before you even chanced a glance at him from the corner of your vision. 

The smile he wore was fleeting, barely there but reassuring all the same. Just one look in your eyes, properly, made him aware of the rush of uncertainty you had felt about the whole thing.

“Alright, ‘s fine either way though. Just so you know.” 

***

Had your husband always been this hot or was it because he was about to feed you?

That was a question that was more and more frequently popping into your head with each passing day.

By the time you’d gotten back home from hiking, you were edging closer to lunch time and the growling of your stomach meant your mood was only going to get worse. If that were even possible.

You’d taken great delight in letting Harry know that no uplifting endorphins had found their way into your body after spending just under two hours, including the time you’d hiked and the time you’d been stuck in California traffic.

He had done nothing more than take every single thing you had thrown at him, as he wrapped his hand around yours and kissed at your knuckles affectionately.

Now you sat on the island counter in your kitchen, legs lightly swinging as you watched Harry boil pasta and simultaneously let your meat simmer away.

Next to you sat a glass of white wine, taunting. Harry’s wine was half-drank on the kitchen side as he talked through some tour logistics with Jeff. It felt like a massive elephant in the room. There was no denial.

Harry had picked your favourite wine, made this big deal about putting a ridiculous amount of effort in cooking lunch when usually the two opted for some picky foods of breads, meats and salad, given the hotter weather than you were used to at this time of year.

You warmed thinking about the trouble that he was going to but it wasn’t enough to shake the way you felt on edge with nerves.

“Speak to you tomorrow, mate,” he chuckled. “Stay safe, tell Glenne I’m sorry she’s stuck inside with you.”

A small smile played on your lips as you heard expletives through the other line from Jeff, before Harry cut him off.

Phone tossed to the side, the noise of sliding it along the counter filled your ears before Harry spoke over the noise of his cooking, “Even he’s pissed of wi’me. Got it in stereo at home from the wife and from m’mate.”

You knew he was joking from the glance he threw at you as he stood in front of you, before reaching to his right for his glass of wine. Your eyes were drawn to his Adam’s Apple as he swallowed, wine glass clinking down before he spun around to walk to you.

As you admired him, you smiled thinking about how he’d yet to take a shower. Instead he’d let you go and enjoy the first soak of the day, underneath the steamy hot water.

“Legs,” he commented, requesting you lift them up straight so he could get to the cutlery drawer that you were covering.

You did so, feeling his right hand wrap gently underneath your one calf to help you keep them up. His left hand pulled at the draw, the rattle of the metal knives, forks and spoons, sounding heavily into the room.

He plucked up a fork easily, pushing the draw back into its place with his hip.

“I do appreciate you, you know?” You questioned, watching the way he lingered close to you. You watched him, messy hair in his eyes and knotted to high heaven. “Sorry for being in your ear all day,” you continued, eyes careful as you looked at Harry.

“Can’t quite hear yer over the cooking,” he mused. “Wha’ was tha’?”

“You heard me fine.”

He smiled, repeating your words back to you. Humming happily, eyebrows slightly raise, “I heard you just fine.”

Arms boxing you in, Harry’s shoulders were hunched as he stood between your legs. “Gonna let me have tha’ kiss now?”

“You’ve had plenty-“

“Not a proper ‘un,” he protested, enjoying the feel of your fingers brushing back his hair out of his eyes. Face wincing as you tried to remove any of the knots from his chestnut brown strands.

“Need to do something about this,” you spoke wistfully, changing the subject, eyes concentrating on your fingers as they continued to comb through his hair, taking it away from covering his expressive, as ever, face.

“We’re not at that stage in quarantine where we start having to cut me hair, no chance,” he deadpanned, his eyes enjoying the way your expression lightened with his lack of desire to your addition to the conversation.

“Reckon I could give you a lovely bowl cut,” you shot back, realising how quiet he had gone on you. Softly slowing the movements of your fingers, you let your eyes drop down to meet his gentle gaze. “What?” you asked, voice barely there, his expression very pleasing to your eye as his hair softly fell in a middle parting, tousled and very nineties.

“‘Seem a bit happier, hm,” he acknowledged, enjoying the way your hands had moved from his hand now to rest lightly at the sides of his neck. “Not fancy your wine?”

And just like that nerves swirled in your stomach again.

You scrunched your nose up at him, giving him a soft shake of your head. His eyes brightened and you knew exactly what he was thinking. You hated that you were thinking it too.

“Think I’m late too,” you admitted, seeing the way his nostrils flared as he took a deep breath in. His chest heaved, before he blew out the most happy sigh.

“‘S fine,” he responded.

“Don’t want to get anyone’s hopes up.”

“You’re not.”

“If you could see your face,” you shook your head, dropping your hands away from his neck.

“If I could see my face, what?” He jutted out his lips in question, his hands gently clasping yours and lifting them to wrap around the back of his neck this time.

“How you’re looking at me-“

“How I always look at you,” he mumbled. “Like you hung the fuckin’ moon. Stop worrying.”

Running your tongue across your teeth, you took in a deep breath. “Stop it,” Harry warned, the two words clipped, his hands setting themselves to the top of your thighs. “We’re just prepping a nice lunch, gonna eat it out on the patio, in the sun-“

“I don’t even think we’ve got a test lying around here, if we’d have been in London-“

“Baby,” he cut you off.

You swallowed heavily.

“When you think about it, this couldn’t have come at a worse time-“

He spoke your name harshly as he cut you off, his face hardening at your words. Nervously chewing on your bottom lip, you fidgeted under his gaze. “I didn’t, I don’t mean it how it sounds,” you knocked your head back so your eyes met the ceiling of your kitchen.

You could feel him scrutinising you. His gaze never fleeting as he watched you come to terms with all the possibilities.

“I mean, we aren’t even going to be able to get to a doctor. They aren’t seeing anyone right now and-“

“And we don’t even know if we are,” he soothed, reaching for your face and wanting your eyes back on his. He hated the worry that had stolen this moment from you. The shy giggles and nervous rambles, around passionate kisses and lingering pecks that usually were part of any pregnancy talk between the two of you.

But I think I want to be, you thought, eyes glossy as they looked at Harry. Leaning forward, he welcomed your weight as you rested against him. With a heaved sighed you spoke, “God, I could really use that glass of wine right now.”

***

The record player in your lounge was the only thing keeping you sane at this point in the afternoon. The soft hum of Billy Joel playing around the room on the lowest volume, enough to keep you out of your own head.

There was something about songs that were piano heavy that managed to instantly soothe you. 

It had felt like forever since Harry had slipped away from you as you stood at the kitchen sink, rinsing off your empty plates before placing them into the dishwasher. Your eyes glancing over at him just in time to watch him pull off his sweat laced t-shirt, tugging the collar upwards and revealing his broadening back.

Since then all you had heard alongside the crooning of your favourite record was the sound of the shower running, the occasional croon also leaving Harry’s throat slightly drowned out by the sound of running water. 

As you sat, head tilted against the back of your couch, a soft smile hit your lips when you heard the water shut off. Not long after the soft, low singing voice of Harry filtered through your landing and downstairs.  

The sentimental softness in that moment had you sinking further into your hoodie and pressing your nose into its neckline. You couldn’t help but smile as you heard how heavy footed Harry was being upstairs, a harsh contrast in comparison to the softness of his singing voice.

“‘S one of your faves, this one innit?” You heard his voice boom, cutting through the peace and quiet that had formed of its own accord after he’d dragged himself upstairs. You loved it when he commented on songs you liked. 

Eyes closed, you imagined him leaning over the banister on the landing and shouting down the stairs to you in conversation between the floors of your home.

Choosing not to answer, you continued to mutter under your breath the lyrics and tried to ignore the havoc Harry was making upstairs in your bathroom. 

There was a loud crash upstairs, before you heard a delayed curse of ‘bollocks’ from Harry. 

His voice suddenly became clear as he shouted down, “‘s fine, nothing’s broken just knocked off some stuff of the ledge. Definitely not watching it leak everywhere right now.”

Your mother used to always tell you she used to count to ten with your father. Now you understood what she meant in saying that. 

Men really liked meddling when they were bored. You were used to it by now. Pick your battles. Let it be like water off a duck's back. 

Continuing to try and tune him out, you listened carefully as he pottered around upstairs. It wasn’t much after that you heard him descend down your stairs, and pad his way through your house into your lounge. 

Harry stood in the doorway, watching as you sat with your eyes closed, trying to find some form of stillness. Softly clearing his throat, he kept his one hand behind his back while the other clasped tightly at the white towel that sat against his waist.

Eyes fluttering, you knocked your head slightly to your left and stayed quiet as you took the vision in front of you.

One thing that always amazed you about Harry was the way that he managed to almost fill the entirety of a doorway but never look menacing. His body was broader, the pecs of his chest more defined. The hair between them darker regardless of how he’d been shirtless in the sun. You took delight in that cause that meant his chest hair was getting thicker. 

You eyed him, spending time on enjoying his rounded tummy and how much he was clinging on for dear life to the towel. 

“No big towels left in the airing cupboard,” his voice broke your shared silence, causing you to sweep your eyes back up to his face. “Think you need to do some laundry.”

The smarmy, amused expression after his comment, made you shake your head. “You’ve got hands as well, you know?” 

He didn’t answer your question, continuing to let the wet strands of his hair drip over his face and down his naked chest. “If you stand in the middle of the doorway any longer people will think we’ve got a flasher in our home.”

The frown that pulled onto his face made the smallest amount of laughter leave your chest. 

“‘Ere,” he lazily spoke, throwing an item onto your coffee table. The noise of it sliding along the wood pulled your eyes away from watching him and onto the item that he had just gently thrown. “Just found this hidin’ at the back of the cupboard under the sink.”

That explained what all the knocking was.

Barely lifting your head to take in the item, you already knew what he was referring to. Eyes back on him, you watched as he fidgeted with his towel again. This time, opening the item slightly wider than necessary as he pulled it tighter around his thickening body and folded it in to keep itself together.

Turning his back to face you, you watched as he tried to drop his body down onto your couch. You made a noise of disapproval, seeing him still in a hunched over position. Harry turned his eyes to look at you over his right shoulder. His stare asked you what the problem was.

“You’re all wet,” you lightly screeched at him, watching him softly roll his eyes and twist his body to plonk himself down onto the coffee table opposite you instead.

In the silence, Harry once again began to pull at the towel at his waist. “For god sake,” you whispered, “put it away, will you?”

“‘S wha’ ‘m trying to do,” he argued in return, as he fidgeted with the white cotton and tried to cover his modesty. “Christ, you could just keep your eyes up ‘ere.”

“What’s happening here,” you joked, lifting up your foot from where it sat perched on the coffee table and poking at his stomach with it. His stomach really was rounding out and you found yourself loving it, any comment you were making simply out of pestering affection. “That’ll be those twenty trips a day to the fridge.” 

“I’m possibly eating for two but I won’t know without the test,” he deadpanned, reaching up with both his hands and brushing back his wet and heavy hair. You smiled when it fell back in his after he pressed his forearms into his thighs, wanting to lean forward to get closer to you.

He wasn’t trying to conceal himself at all, his man spread the biggest you’d seen from him for a while. The towel gaped more than ever. 

“Like you need anymore of excuse,” you responded, flashing him a false smile. You watched as he pressed his tongue to the corner of his mouth, trying to stop his laugh at you jokingly commenting again on his quarantine eating habits. 

“‘S not very nice is it, that? To the potential father of your unborn child.”

You howled at that one, head falling back against the couch. “Potential father,” you squealed. “I’ve not been holed up in the house shagging anyone else, have I?” 

Your laughter was too much. His silence said it all. There was no doubt a scowl over his features as you laughed at him.

“Dunno? Have you?” He sulked as he spoke back, annoyed you’d got one over him. “Might’ve done, this house is bloody massive.”

Letting your laughter die down, you pressed your lips together as you looked at him. Swinging your legs down you leaned in, squeezing his chin and jaw in one hand.

You melted at how pouty his lips became, his cheeks smushed as you pecked at his lips.

“One man, that’s it.”

He hummed, as you dropped your forehead to him. “Must have decent swimmers.” 

“Swear to god,” you muttered under your breath, causing him to breathily chuckle.

This was the man you’d chosen to marry. 

***

His back faced you as he slept. The dim light from the early morning seeping into your room from the slight crack that had been left in your curtains, thanks to the way Harry had poorly pulled them together the night before. 

The sound of Harry’s deep breathing had your eyes lulling as you continued to allow them to roam over the expanse of his bare back and tousled hair. 

Hazy eyes tried their best to zone in on Harry’s figure as he lay sleeping. It was nice to wake up before him, to get the opportunity to admire him at your own pace rather than peeking a glance his way as he whooshed through the room like a tornado like every other morning. 

The smell of your newly washed bed sheets was alluring as you lay against your soft mattress, almost too alluring. 

A faint snore left Harry causing you to softly smile as you saw the way his week had somehow managed to catch up with him. He’d done this thing where he’d taken it upon himself, to make himself work. He couldn’t tour, that was out of his control. And you knew that regardless of how much he tried to play it off, he was struggling with how he couldn’t change it. 

Probably why he was throwing himself at every radio station possible.

Part of you was jealous that he was still sleeping, but the other felt warm in knowing he was allowing himself to switch off for this long today. That his work had been forgone and he was allowing himself to rest. 

The last couple of days had been strange as you had become hyper-aware of your body and how it felt, the way in which it was reacting to smell and taste. To the touch of your husband. 

And touch you he had. Harry was always tactile but as the potential news that you could be having a baby had made him even more so. His hands never really left you. 

They were against your thigh when you sat close to him as you ate your breakfast together every morning. Fingers usually softly cupped around your thigh, sometimes trapped between both thighs if he thought he was being funny in dragging his hand higher up your leg in an outdoor setting. 

That would usually drag a lazily, morning laugh from him. Pleased with his flirtatious antagonising. 

Fingers would gently take to playing with yours in the evening, as Harry seemed to master the art in eating his evening dinner with just one hand. Gone was the use of a knife, as he would tilt his fork to the side to cut through whatever food you had cooked that evening. 

The fork would even clatter against the plate to allow him to reach for his evening tipple of choice, rather than break how he was holding your hand, which was usually your left. 

You’d noted he was still so enamoured by your wedding band which had joined your engagement ring. He usually would find himself gently plucking at the cushion cut diamond to make sure it was sitting central on your finger.  

In this moment as you lay in bed, you supposed him taking time to touch you was his way to stay grounded. He’d been outrageously busy since your hike just three days earlier, more for someone who was in lockdown and made his living by singing music live. 

The work was a blessing in disguise though as it had drawn his attention away from the pregnancy test that had found its place back under the bathroom sink, connected to your room. 

It had allowed you to get out of your head for the last seventy-two hours. Breeze around like the newlyweds that you were, still basking sickeningly in how amazed you were by everything the other was doing.

It was hard not to get in your head now, though. 

Laying awake and in a dream-like state, you always felt your body’s sensitivities more so when you had first woken up. It was one of the things that made morning sex your favourite. 

But your body sensitivity seemed to linger more so now than ever. It didn’t make itself known solely in the morning. It was around when you took the chance to lay in the morning sun just before it peaked at midday. 

You’d found that your skin became itchy, a form of prickly heat spreading over you, a lot quicker now and while it wasn’t something new your worry was already heightened tenfold since the pregnancy suggestion had even become a thing. 

The first time it had happened, and you’d become irritated Wednesday, you cursed at your body for playing some sort of sick April Fools trick on your with it being the first day of the new month. 

Harry’s deep chuckle against the soft skin of your shoulder hadn’t done anything to soothe you. “Just sit in the shade, grab one of m’old shirts and lounge in summat loose,” he had suggested a couple of days earlier. 

You’d panicked at the time, regardless of his calm demeanour when hours later the red dots on your skin had remained, “I just don’t understand where this small rash has come from.”

“Where?” He’d set his tone, “Lemme ‘ave a look.”

From where he stood behind you, you shifted your - his - baggy dress shirt from where it was loosely buttoned up and draped over your body. His chin was resting against your shoulder as he looked down your shirt, catching sight of the light sprinkle of red dots on your skin.

“Looks like prickly heat t’me,” he hummed, knowing just how itchy heat rash could get. “Come take a cool bath wi’me, it’ll help.” 

That cool bath had helped, a lot actually. 

But away from your thoughts, in the present moment, the cool bath that had previously soothed you wouldn’t help this time. This sensitivity was the kind that had you wincing when clothes ran against you. 

To put it bluntly, your tits were hurting. 

There were no two ways about it. 

And you didn’t even need to google how that linked to pregnancy because you knew it was a symptom women often had in their first trimester. However you’d had that symptom before and you and Harry were still baby-less.

It didn’t stop the anxiousness that flowed through you, however.

Could be solved by you taking the test though, couldn’t it? 

That thought wasn’t wrong. Yet, it was scary. 

It would change your life in two ways. Either you were going to become parents or it would make you realise you wanted to become parents. A sense of happiness while splintered with apprehension would either be your feelings of choice, or simple and unbridled disappointment would linger.  

Harry’s deeper snore had you blinking yourself out of your blurring stare and let him come back into focus. 

Wouldn’t hurt taking a test would it? It’s not like you were officially doing it without him. If you kept the door open as you peed, he would basically have been right there with you. 

It would stop you thinking irrationally about the pains in your chest anyway. 

Releasing a nervous sigh, you reached out towards Harry and softly touched his bare back. His back that was broadening more and more as quarantine went on. Fingertips lightly tracing at his skin, before your fingers slid up and wove through the hair at the nape of his neck.

You scratched lightly, before pausing when Harry’s breathing patterned changed. All movement from you froze, waiting for him to let you know if he was still sleeping. Instead of waking, you saw the way his body sank back down to relax into the mattress once more.

This noise of contentment left his lips in his sleep, Harry rolling further onto his tummy and pressing his face deeper into his pillow. 

He was practically telling you to piss off and leave him be, even in his sleep.

Your hand, from his new position naturally fell away from his head as he was just a little bit out of reach now. 

Taking that as a sign to get up and do what you’d been putting off for long enough, you slipped gently out from underneath the duvet. 

A sense of sadness flew over you as the sleepy warmth of your bed fell away from your body while you walked around the bed and closer to the bathroom.

Eyes dropping down to your bed, you took in Harry’s face that was less than elegant as he slept. Mouth slightly ajar, his pouty lips were still framed with his thickening beard and a light divot sat between his shaped eyebrows. You fought against the urge to reach out for him and smooth out the disruption to the otherwise even contour of his forehead. 

Footsteps sounded loud to your ears but were nothing more than soft pats as you turned to your left and entered your bathroom.

You felt nervous about shutting the door, not wanting anything to wake Harry in that moment. Leaving it ajar to avoid the click it would make as it connected to the doorframe, you bent at the knees and pulled at the cupboard door.

Sleepy eyes landed in the box that had become familiar with you now, slightly shaking hands reaching out for the item and pulling it towards you.

Standing, you - for some reason - couldn’t bring your eyes up to take a look at yourself in the mirror that practically covered the entirety of your sink and hand washing station. 

The edges of the box had become quite worn which was hardly surprising given how many times it had been passed between you and Harry on that last day of March. 

You didn’t need the instructions. There was no point reaching for them. Instead you went straight for one of the two pregnancy tests that sat wrapped inside and pressed your legs together.

You needed the toilet, of course you did. You’d just woken up. It wasn’t going to be an issue. And that was part of the problem as you stood in your stark white bathroom.

It wasn’t pretty, was it? Anything about pregnancy, you were sure wasn’t going to be airy fairy. The fact you were likely to get pee on your hand in order for you to find out in the first place, summed it up pretty well.

Breathing deeply, you hated the negativity you were forcing yourself to feel as a way to combat your anxiety. Swallowing, you lifted your eyes cautiously to take in your figure.

Wild hair met your eyes first, followed by an incredibly creased white shirt of which the sleeves half swamped your hand. You liked being engulfed in an item of Harry’s clothing, however. It was so hard to come by when you’d first started dating, up until the latter years where he’d taken it upon himself to bulk his body up for tour.

Breathing out a heavy sigh, you rucked up the bottom of the dress shirt and turned to sit on the toilet, clenching your eyes together as you placed the test where it needed to go.

And then you went for it.

How else were you supposed to describe it.

Not that you would ever need to describe this part to anyone. No one ever talked about this part.

Lifting the stick out from between your legs, you pressed it onto the counter to the side and sorted yourself out. Toilet flushed and hands washed, you cringed when the faucet created a noise louder than you wanted but it was out of your control.

Drying your hands you frowned at the faint call of your name, not sure if you were imagining it. Hand wrapped around the door, you pulled it open and caught sight of Harry gently looking at you.

He looked partly disoriented, blinking quickly before he set his gaze on yours. The softest smile you had sworn to have seen grace his face, since you had walked up the aisle to him, met your stare. 

Not a word was spoken as he raised his left hand out for you to take, his right arm tucked securely underneath his pillow and he lay down.

“Come get back in back,” he mumbled. “‘S early innit.”

The bathroom light was turned off before you could even say ‘pregnancy test’. The item swamped in darkness as you shut the door and gently walked to your waiting husband. 

Eyes dropping from his you noticed the way he’d folded down the covers so they sat against his lower abdomen. The span of his upper body on show for you to see. 

“‘S late,” you corrected him when you were stood next to his side of the bed. Hand in his, Harry pulled it and gently placed it against his face, eyes slowly shutting when you found his hair and gently wove your fingers through his unruly waves. 

“Refuse to believe it,” he mumbled into your wrist, lifting his head slightly from his pillow to kiss your skin. 

“Why? Cause it makes you lazy bones,” you softly laughed, it turning into a squeal as he pulled you down to him, legs straddling either side of his body. 

“‘S ‘nough out of you,” he hummed, chin dropping to his chest as he reached up to brush your fallen hair out of your eyes. 

You let your eyes flutter shut as you felt the way the pads of his fingers gently skimmed across your face. His gentle touch tickled your skin, a smattering of goosebumps lining in the wake of his touch as he showered you with affection.  

You had no other choice but to press yourself down onto him, as he lay against the mattress. 

“Bloody obsessed wi’you,” Harry confessed, his eyelids hooded as his vision of you blurred and any light in the room was taken from him from your hair curtaining around your both. “I’d do some foolish fuckin’ things for you.” 

“Would you?” 

“Yeah,” he chuckled, voice low. “Surely you know it an’all.”

“Might do,” you felt the way his lips pulled up into a smile, your lips resting against his rounded cheek. “Might not.”

“You fuckin’ do,” he groaned, head knocking back causing your lips to fall further down his face, “Would give you the clothes off my back, would give you anything.”

“That’s a loaded statement, sure you don’t want to retract it.”

He shook his head, swallowing as he said, “Do with me what you want, doll.”

The rawness to his voice as he spoke had you brushing your nose against his beard, the tickle of his hair something you had grown used to over the never ending days. 

He turned his head waiting for you, the sound of his softly gasped name falling off your lips and straight onto his as he hummed happily in return. His hands brushed your hair behind you again as it continued to get in the way. 

Breathing heavy against his lips, he smiled when you pulled him closer to you, squashing your noses together as you devoured him. A hum low, in the back of his throat, as you slowed. A confidence warmed you, fingers carding through his hair and gently pulling at his chestnut locks to create a gap between the two of you.

He tried to nudge forward to reclaim your lips, but you stopped his movement with a commanding, “Stay still.”

His jaw clenched, before you soothed the back of your fingers over it. Harry wasn’t always used to you taking charge in any situation, especially not in bed anyway. Not all the time and not with such an authoritarian tone anyway. Usually you played it lightly, a flirtatious push and pull between you both.

“Said I can do what I want with you,” you hummed, watching the way his nostrils flared as his breath picked up. “Gonna take my time-“

You ducked your head, lips sucking his skin the minute they came into contact with the light dusting of his beard that scattered down his throat.

“Never usually get to take my time with my husband,” you trailed off, teeth naughtily grazing at the top of his rounded pecs. He’s usually far too greedy, you though, keeping it to yourself. 

Harry’s breathing was heavy now, his chest expanding as he tried to anticipate what was to come. His stomach tensed as your hands got lower. 

“Your husband,” he emphasised. 

“Know this is your favourite,” you watched him bend his left arm behind his head, raising his head slightly as he looked up at you sitting in his lap.

An amused chuckle reverberated through him. “If it’s with you, yeah, it’s my favourite.”

You dropped your eyes to his right hand as it came up to fiddle with the buttons on his dress shirt. Whilst there weren’t many buttoned up, he still couldn’t see as much of you as he would have liked. 

As he unbuttoned, from the bottom up, you began to rock your bare nether region against Harry’s pubic bone, before you pushed back some more and came into contact with the sensitive and wet head of his heavy and waiting cock. 

“Mm, found it,” he breathed, biting down on his bottom lip and tilting his chin upwards, eyes peering down his nose at you. “Tha’s what you wanted.” 

You knew you should’ve been mad at the way he wasn’t doing what you had asked but there was something about how his right hand sprawled it’s way across your stomach as you rolled yourself messily on top of him. How it had just stayed there, resting, warmly. 

With hooded gazed, you watched the way his bottom lip bounced away from his teeth, tongue enticing licking at the luscious pinkness and shining up at you. 

“‘S tha’ look for?”

Frown etched between your brows, you appreciatively gasped as you felt the way his cock tucked between your folds as you humped against his wetness.

You were looking at him whatever way you were, because you were obsessed with him too. 

Harry slowly pushed himself up, so you were chest to chest now. His lips bumped clumsily to rest on your chin, hand sliding around from your stomach and down your back before gripping at the top of your bum cheeks to keep you to him. 

“Glowing, y’know tha’,” he huskily mouthed against your jawline, your head slowly tipping backwards and starting to show the expanse of your heaving chest to him.

Eyes dropping down, he quickly glanced at your boobs, how they pushed against the material of his shirt and how rounded they looked. Definitely looked bigger to him.  

He knew he should stop himself, but he couldn’t. He was dying to strip you of the clothing item so he could get a proper look at you. 

His hands travel back up the span of your back, nails catching against the cotton of his shirt. You felt him start to bunch the item up as you slowly brought your head back up, just in time to catch the way he set his jaw as he pulled at the final button of the shirt to make it fall open.

That button ripped away from the fabric, lost somewhere forever, mixed between the sheets until you would find it sometime later next week and it would pull you back to the memory of this time you’d had sex. 

Harry’s head was already tilted back, his mouth now slightly ajar and lips still shining and pouty. Regardless of how much desire filled his face, you could tell he was waiting for you to tell him off. 

He was being too handsy for someone who had been told to stay still. 

“You’re not listening to me,” your soft whines were met with this breathy laugh down Harry’s nose. 

The silence between you was short before his deep voice said, “Can’t help wanting to have a proper look at you.”

Your bum pushed back into his hands as a response, gliding easily against him regardless of how he held your center snug to his crotch. 

“I’m getting hot,” you admitted, the cotton shirt becoming nothing more of a nuisance as it rustled around you. “This is getting in the way.”

Knowing you’d need help to pull the item off, Harry’s hand found their way to the middle of the shirt, slowly peeling the fabric away from your body. 

He heard you suck in a breath through your teeth, the wince cutting through the room as he helped you remove the shirt you had picked to sleep in. Hair cascading down your back, you felt him sit up further, pulling your face to his, as he cupped the back of your neck. Shirt long thrown to the bottom of the bed. 

“What was tha’?” His question was half lost against your cheek, his hands sliding down your nude back again, his grip strong as his palms found your arse and pulled you tight to him. He tugged you closer to him, a groan of lustful appreciation omitting from his throat.

“Bit tender, this morning,” you whispered, head dropping back as Harry pressed his softly smiling lips against the skin of your clavicle. “Stop it.”

“‘M sayin’ nothin’,” he spoke with a sing-y lilt, far to pleased with himself, softly lifting up and pressing his forehead to your collarbone. “Gonna have to suck on summat else if they’re hurting.”

“Haven’t done that in a while,” you mused, lips lifting as he hummed in agreement. 

“Not since the full beard came in,” he wistfully replied. “Come and sit on my face.” 

“Harry-“

“Alright, I’ll get back in m’box,” he jested. “Want you that way before I shave it off, at least once. At least-“ he trailed off when you took his mouth with yours again. 

It never got old feeling him between your legs, and the two of you just staying like that. Kissing heavily like teenagers and neither of you making the first move. 

“Don’t always get what we want.”

“I’ve done alright so far-“ he chuckled when you stilled against him, annoyed at how he had an answer for everything. 

Wrapping his arms securely around your back, you felt him lower the two of your back down to your bed. Forearms resting in the sea of pillows, you gripped at the side of his face, “why won’t you just let me have my way?”

“‘S fun like this,” he whispered, keeping his mouth hot and heavy against yours as he breathed. 

“You’re just spoiling it for yourself,” you tried to reason with him.

“Believe me I’m not,” he groaned, feeling you start to brush your aching centre over him once more, “I’m driving myself mad with want. Know you are too, know you’re gagging for me.” 

You whimpered at his suggestion, breathing getting heavier by the second as you desperately rocked against him in slow, purposeful rubs. 

“Darling, just put me in,” he dropped his eyes to look at the rock of your hips, “Have the real thing, have it properly, go on.”

His lazy but deep tone was too much to say no to as you lined him up at your aching warmth. 

“Fuck yea,” he bit down on his bottom lip, breathing heavily through his nose. His voice was spent, as he let his mouth hang open, dry and desperate for him to swallow. “Take me,” he barely murmured, as you felt his tip sit at your entrance.

“God,” his worn out voice sounded, his clammy hands moving to rest underneath your nicely raised bum cheeks , “Take me. All of me.” 

And just like that he was proved right, you were gagging for him. 

His length slipped easily inside you as you sat down upon him and released a breath you didn’t realise you had been holding out in one almighty pant. 

You didn’t waste much time once he was inside, leaning your body back and placing your left hand on the top of Harry’s thickening thighs for support, this mass of hair cascading down your back, the tips tickling at the tops of his knees.

Creating a 45-degree angle with the use of his legs, you put yourself on show from him immediately. You both knew this angle helped target you in all the right places, while still giving you ample control over the speed and depth of the thrusts. 

You’d gotten exactly what you wanted. 

It hadn’t gone unnoticed with Harry how your reclined position was an obvious invitation for him to stroke away at your clit. However, he found himself far too mesmerised by the way your body looked above him to bring himself to do anything but watch.

Your body had changed since he’d last taken you this way, or let you take him. He wasn’t sure where the power lay now and he didn’t care; not in the slightest.

You’d blossomed nicely, a bit more for him to grab onto since your wedding and he found himself flushing at how he could been fucking you like this and you be pregnant with his child.

He was convinced you were. Your boobs heaved above you, bigger than he’d ever seen them and he could’ve sworn you tummy was slightly more rounded than before. His gaze was getting lower, hands fighting with themselves where to go first and eyes trying to help him make the right decision. 

As they dropped, he swallowed heavily. You had started to get hairy, a sign of laziness but also of being comfortable. He remembered so vividly the first time he’d taken you when you hadn’t shaved, and you weren’t as brazen to share it with him as you were now.

“Look at you shagging me,” he hoarsely caught your attention as your right hand moved from where it was pressed against his stomach and swiped up your own body to smoothly bring your hair around to your front. “Tits look incredible.” 

His head dipped back as he saw your desperate expression as you brought your head up to sit your body up straight. Your adopted rhythm had been more of a rub and roll of your hips, rather than a drop and grind. It was almost as if the minute you had taken him inside, you didn’t want him to leave. 

“‘M dying to play with ‘em,” he confessed, his hands coming up to your sides, before stroking back down. His hand cracked against your bum without warning, as you rocked forward with more fervour. “Fuck me, go on. Please keep fuckin’ me, don’t stop.”

His voice was choked and as you looked down at him, his lust filled hooded stare was waiting for your frowning expression, as your hands found his chest and softly slid up to his neck.

They rested there lightly, until you saw Harry raise his chin upwards to open the expanse of his neck and throat to you. He looked alluring like this, lying beneath you and exploring something you’d yet to discuss together.

You lightly stroked your thumb against the center of his throat, feeling the way his Adam’s Apple bobbed as he swallowed. The feel of it causing you to panic, your hand starting to retract. How did you even know this was what he wanted? Just cause he had shown your more of his neck, didn’t mean anything. 

Before you could get too far away, you felt him gently take your hand and encourage you to keep exploring. His eyes were dark with arousal as he whimpered up at you. The stubble that lightly decorated the underside of his chin was more than taunting enough; never mind anything else.

“You want that?

“Want everything wi’you, do it properly,” he pressed heavily against your hand, jaw clenching before your eyes were greeted with his falling shut and his mouth hanging open. A wanton moan, fell off his lips. “Use me.” 

Keeping your eyes on his face you saw the way it began to flush with colour as your took away his ease to breathe.

The stifled groan of approval that left his lips as you rolled your hips up and dropped back down onto him with a clap of your thighs meeting, caused the most shit-eating grin you’d ever seen him wear, to pull up onto his lips. 

The leverage you had changed from digging your fingers into his throat. The position allowed you to press yourself hard down onto his cock, so much so that you could’ve sworn it was the deepest he had ever been. 

You stayed that way for a while, the echo of your skin clapping together as your thighs began to burn. His hand smoothed over your skin and gripped at your hips to encourage you to not give in. 

“My wife, pleasing me,” the roughness to his words, voice broken as you let his neck go but kept your hand there. “Doing as she’s told.”

You fell forward and brought your lips to his, his laugh at his previous statement mingling with yours. He knew he’d pissed you off saying that, a self confessed wind up merchant. He definitely didn’t wear the trousers here and he knew it. 

“Remember where my hand is,” you faux-threatened, soft raise to your brows. 

“Darling, you've had me by the balls since I first clapped eyes on you. Having me by the throat is nothing.” 

Now it was your turn to be smug. To drop your hips down upon him again and hear him submit a groan confirming his willingness to please you just as much. 

You felt yourself fluttering around him and it took everything within Harry not to hold you to him and just thrust upwards, giving you what you both wanted. 

He liked that you had wanted to drag it out, to roll your hips over his this entire time and let your clit rub against his pelvic bone on every thrust. He wanted you to get it how you wanted, to hold out for you and have you draw his release out of him. 

The whine that left your throat as you cupped around his neck and brought his face back to yours had him muttering words of approval that you couldn’t decipher. He knew you liked that, when you couldn’t quite figure out what filthy things he was saying to you to try and get you there. 

A playful mystery which summed the two of you up perfectly. 

“God, I love you,” you desperately gasped, face flushed and feeling clammy from your exertion.

“D’yer?” He roughly spoke. “You love fucking me, hm?” 

“No, I love you,” you whimpered at him, breathing deeply and eyes wide. “Say you love me.”

He chuckled at your sense of needy showing itself, “‘course I love you.”

He softly smiled when he saw how blissful your face fell, his hand finding the back of your head and holding you to him. “Love having sex with you too, hm. Fuckin’ love it.” 

You hips pressed down onto his as roughly as they could, a mixture of your arousal and his everywhere inside your thighs. Back and forth you moved in quick succession, panting matching how much you wanted it.

“Love it when you get like this, all messy and desperate for me. ‘S not like you, usually so put together and so good.”

“‘M so dirty for you-“

He groaned louder, feeling himself somehow press deeper in you. “Mhm,” he agreed against your jaw. “Yea, you are. Gonna come for me?”

“Dunno, ‘m thinking about it,” you smiled before fluttering around him and dropping your hips again. “Yes,” the motion of your hips started to get quicker once more. 

“Don’t stop this time,” he quickly whispered, pushing his chin up and catching his lips with you. “Want you all over me.”

As your movements got more abrupt the sound of the mattress beneath you made itself known. The rustling sounds of sheets, a tangled mess against your merged together limbs, spurred you on.

He knew how much you loved the sound of the mattress like this, really showed how heavy you were going at it. 

His awe for you was written all over his face as he looked at you. “Bit more baby,” he clenched his teeth, pushing up into you for the first time since you’d taken control. “Let me help you, hm?”

As he brought his hands down against your cheeks and hips, he pulled you down onto his strong thrust up causing you to reach for his face. “Come on, come on,” he whispered, sweat running down his temple and disappearing into his hairline.

The minute your mouth fell against his he knew he had you. Pliant as ever. You felt slack everywhere than around him. Tight and then gently fluttering teasingly around him. 

And he knew was done for. 

“Keep going, bit more,” he encouraged, just needing you to press down once more to meet him. When you obliged him, he spoke, “That’s my girl, yeah.”

Pulled down hard onto his pelvis, Harry vocalised how grateful he was. Pushing in further each time you squeezed and let him have it. So physically deep you don’t know where he ended and you began. 

He loved how you fell against him, shaking arms wrapping around you and holding you gently to him; keeping your face tucked against his sweaty neck. The two of you shook against each other, allowing your unsteady breath to even itself out.

As you felt him begin to soften before your legs, you shifted your body slightly, Harry mewling at the loss of contact as he slipped out of you.  

He nudged his nose into your hair, enjoying how the two of you were taking time to stay close. 

“Come share a bath wi’me,” he mumbled against your cheek. Feeling you shake your head, no. “No?”

“I don’t want another go,” you mentioned

He chuckled, “I don’t wanna shag you, I wanna treat you to summat.” 

“But I’m tired-“

“Yeah, ‘s hard putting all the work in, in’it.”

His statement caused you to bury your face into his neck even deeper. “Tell you what,” he hummed. “How ‘bout if I run the bath and you get to lie here while I do it? Sound better?”

“Yeah,” you childishly responded.

“‘Kay,” he hummed, amused, “Gotta let me out first.”

Not happy in the slightest at how you had to move, you gently rolled away from Harry and moved onto your stomach. Face pressed into his pillow, turned away from Harry he took his opportunity to run his eyes down your body.

The dip between your shoulder blades, how soft your skin looked to the naked eye, never mind felt to the touch. He couldn’t resist dropping forward, choosing to climb over your body rather than slip off the bed by his side and walk around. 

“Think you should take that test,” he murmured, into your sweaty shoulder, as you lay sprawled out facing away from him.

“Why?” You asked, question weary and voice slightly wetter than usual. You already had taken it. 

“Just think you should,” he happily hummed, nose running against the curve of your shoulder. “Call it a hunch, husband’s intuition.”

When he was met with silence, he decided to throw out a comment he knew would he incite a reaction from you. “Thinking of taking the bike out later.” 

His motorcycle, which had definitely seen better days, was absolutely not something you wanted him going near. Regardless of how attractive he looked on the bloody thing. 

“Are you trying to start an argument?” You mumbled your question, half of it lost against the pillow. 

“Alright I’m going,” he replied, hanging half over your body. The way he chose to climb over you, caused you to press your face into your pillow to hide your smile.

“D’ya want bubbles or not?” He asked, standing in the doorway of your bathroom, and looking over his shoulder. You stared at him, feeling a sense of nervousness swallow you. “Baby-“

“Sorry,” you blinked softly. “Surprise me.”

He lingered, trying to see if you were okay, before he turned to enter your bathroom. Door kept open, you could see his bare arse as held any over the tub to push the plug in and turned to look at something to add to your bath.

The sound of bottle shuffling around filled you ears before he asked, “We’ve got the muscle relaxant one of you-“ 

He’d seen it. The way he’d stopped talking let you know.

The shuffle of his feet was heard before he appeared at the doorway again. “What’s this?”

“What’s it look like?” You nervously replied, not even letting your eyes move to the item in his fingers. 

His softness of his face had you sinking into the bed, further than you thought possible. “Have a look, ‘s it say?” You asked him, watching his eyes blink before he turned to look at the item and read over what he had already seen once more to be completely sure.  

Harry blew out this sigh. The kind that really caused his body to move down. “What do you want it to say?” He asked, voice deep. 

You hated how his expression was so hard to read. Usually he was so expressive that he tended to give himself away, not this time. 

You saw him flick off the light in your bathroom, feet carrying him to you and letting his knee dip into the bottom of the mattress. Eyes following his every move, you dropped them down to his hand and saw the way that you clenched the item in his grasp.

The longer he took to let you know what the outcome off your test, was the worst you began to feel. His eyes were shining when they met yours again, them taking in the worry etched upon your face. 

“You’re making me nervous, stop it-“ you let your eyes flit between his as he silently crawled over you. “Harry, seriously-“

Dropping his nose to yours, he breathed out a happy laugh. This close lipped smile brushing its way into his lips as he let his lips hover over you.

“Let’s go take that bath together, Mommy.”

***

Excited to hear all your thoughts! Thank you for reading .x

[atombonniebaby]

I suppose this is as good a day as any to share my OCs prologue chapter! I have already done a 'War Never Changes' piece for @falloutober but it's literally the title of the chapter 👀

War Never Changes

Sanctuary Hills October 23, 2077.

Deep red leaves rustled in the crisp autumn air as the sun began to creep up over the hillside, casting a murky haze over the serene show of contemporary suburban living, America's "Homes of the Future." The residents of Sanctuary Hills lived in blissful ignorance as the world held its breath to the ever-present threat of Nuclear Devastation. Amidst the suburban sprawl, the morning sun warmed the cheeks of Nathanial Alasdair Watt, Nate to his nearest and dearest.

Nate leaned over a dusty blue cot, his eyes not quite believing that the soft and squishy bundle snoring away was his son. Months old already, how long would it be before he would be chasing after him around the cul-de-sac? With a lingering glance over Shaun, Nate slipped out of his room and stepped into the hallway, closing the door softly behind him. The house was quiet, and Nate's footsteps echoed in the empty hall, leading him to the kitchen.

"Ah, Master Nate! Good morning, sir!” Codsworth chirped, his eye stalks flitting in greeting. "Your coffee. 173.5 degrees Fahrenheit. Brewed to perfection!"

"Ah'll take yer word for it," Nate yawned, a fond smile spreading across his face as he reached for the steaming mug of coffee.

"Ah, of course, my apologies, Sir. 78.61 degrees Celcius!"

Nate snorted. "I flunked maths, son. Just say it's hot."

Codsworth let out a chuckle. "Ah, I forgot, the young miss is the brains of the operation."

"Aye, that she is. But she'll no be without a proper feedin'. Could you go rouse her for me?" Nate asked.

"Of course, Sir! Right away!" Codsworth trilled, floating away towards El's room.

"Good luck wi' that," Nate muttered, shaking his head. El liked her sleep, that one.

Nate chuckled, running a hand over his head, and frowned at the resistance. Big speech tonight. He could hardly rock up looking a scruffy mess, could he? With a sigh, he set his mug down and stretched out his back on the way to the bathroom.

"Lemme Sleep, Codsworth..."El's voice drifted through her door.

Ah, to be 19 again. Nate shook his head, smirking to himself as he turned to the closed-over bathroom door, a wide smile pulling in his cheeks when Nora's sweet voice filtered through, Shaun's favorite lullaby on her tongue. Nate would never tire of it or how her voice sent shivers down his spine.

"You're up early. How's my little man?" she asked as he stepped through the door. "I'm assuming you've been in there five times already?"

Nora, even under those horrid fluorescent bulbs, looked stunning. He caught her eye in the mirror she was brushing her hair in and gave her a wink. Nate took a few steps toward her and wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips brushing her neck. She hummed and leaned back into his embrace.

"What can I say, doll? Just like his mother, I cannae believe he's mine," Nate murmured, burying his face in her soft, icy-brown hair. "I keep thinkin' somebody's gonna pinch me, and I'll wake up from this dream."

Nora twisted in his arms, her green eyes sparkling. "You're a wonderful father, Nate. You shouldn't doubt yourself!"

"I hope so," Nate said, his ears growing hot. Nora knew him too well, and his bashful side never could stand up to her praise.

"I think Beth would agree with me. I mean, you practically raised that girl!"

Nate ducked his head and pressed a kiss to her nose. "She dotes on you, ye ken? She won't admit it, but she does."

"I like her too. I'm glad she's here. Now, care to explain why you interrupted my morning ritual?" Nora teased.

"I need some pamperin'," he raised his eyebrows. "Cannae hae this 'decorated war hero' looking like common street riff-raff, now can we?"

"Hmm," Nora smirked. "I dunno, that rugged Viking look is growing on me, Nathanial."

"Ooh, using my full name, eh?" he teased. "Am I in trouble, then, Mrs Watt?"

"You're always trouble, Nathanial Watt," Nora giggled.

"Tell the truth, doll. That's the real reason you married me, wasn't it?" Nate smirked. "That and the accent, aye?"

She rolled her eyes and gave him a playful shove away, returning to the mirror. Nate's grin lingered, his hands sliding to her waist. He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head and rested his chin upon it, gazing at her reflection. She met his eyes, a warmth and tenderness reflected at him.

"I love you, lass," he murmured against her hair, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. "More than I can say."

Nora didn't speak, only leaned back, melting against him, a familiar gesture that spoke volumes. Nate's arms tightened, and he closed his eyes, wishing they could stay like that forever.

"Go get your trimmer; I'll at least neaten you up a little," Nora said, her voice thick. "Then, I'll see about breakfast."

Nate pressed one last kiss to her head and drew a sharp breath. "Yes, ma'am."

"—war never changes,” Nate sighed, the steamy air heavy with the weight of his speech.

“You're gonna knock 'em dead at the Veteran's Hall tonight, hon,” Nora purred, her fingers massaging the knots from his shoulders.

"Ye think?" Nate relaxed against her touch, letting his eyes flutter shut.

"Absolutely. Now get ready and stop hogging the mirror..."

"Right," Nate snorted. He stepped away and let Nora take his place. "You might want to fix the buttons on your blouse, love."

He couldn't help a small smirk tugging on his lips as she re-buttoned her blouse, not quite meeting his gaze.

"Wipe that smug look off your face, Mr. Watt! You're the reason I never get anything done around here!" Nora teased.

Nate couldn't help bursting out laughing. "Why dae ye think I bought Codsworth?"

"Out!" Nora laughed, pushing him towards the door.

"Love ye too, darlin'." Nate gave her a mock salute and stumbled out of the bathroom.

"Miss Elspeth, breakfast was served thirty minutes ago!" Codsworth's muffled voice met him through the opposing door.

"Codsy! Bugger off!...and 'ave told ye… it's Beth!" came El's equally muffled reply.

"My, my. For such a brilliant young mind, Miss Beth, your language leaves much to be desired."

"Get tae fuck, or I'll turn ye into a toaster!" El spat back, a bit louder this time.

"By God! I don't believe General Atomics programmed me with enough patience for this!" Codsworth sighed.

"I'll handle this." Nate interrupted, opening the door.

"Good luck, that child's got the mouth of a drunkard."

"I'm weeks away from twenty ye daft bucket o' bolts!" El retorted.

Codsworth sighed, bobbing past him a little less chipper than before. Poor bugger.

Nate chuckled and shook his head. Wearing that damn onesie, she was akin to an overgrown toddler in a babygro. El glared at him, her hazel eyes flashing with a fire that reflected his own, her cheeks flushed, auburn hair still a tangled mess, reminding him exactly why he opted for a smooth dome.

"Arse. Up. Now. Or I promise you I'll cancel that comic subscription I already reluctantly pay for."

El's eyes narrowed, a defiant glint remaining, a slight smirk curving her lips. "Ye wouldnae dare."

"Try me," Nate raised a brow and folded his arms. "And to rub it in, I'll replace it with one about all the latest fashion trends, braw big frilly skirts and whatnot..."

"Fine. Ye win." El rolled her eyes, sauntering past him.

"Smart move," Nate smirked.

"Bite me!" El snapped, stomping into the now vacant bathroom.

Nate chuckled, shaking his head, and approached the kitchen, his stomach growling in anticipation.

"Breakfast is served sir," Codsworth set down a plate of eggs and toast.

"Thanks. And if ye need the afternoon off to recharge after the morning ye've had, you take it!" Nate smirked.

"A good show of humor, sir, but with a steady supply of Mr. Handy fuel, I am proud to serve!" Codsworth chirped.

"Attaboy."

"Your thoughts?" Nora's voice drifted over him, snapping his attention back to the present.

Nate blinked, glancing at his wife. She was studying him, her brows knitted. Damn. "I'm worried about her, doll. She won't admit it, but she's been having trouble sleeping again. I cannae remember the last time I saw her without dark circles under her eyes."

"She's just stressed. It's been a big year for her. Why don't you take her away for a few days? It's been a while since you two had time together," Nora suggested. "You could take a little road trip or something?"

"Aye, I'd been considering it, but I can hardly leave you with the wee one, can I?"

"I've got Codsworth to help. And besides, Shaun's not exactly a handful." Nora grinned, nudging him. "Take her. Trust me, she needs it."

Nate chewed his lip, his brows furrowed. Maybe she had a point. El had always loved his impromptu adventures.

"Okay, I'll talk to her about it—"

"Talk to me about what?" El asked, walking into the living room, her frown deepening as she looked between them. "I'm sorry! I know I've been—"

"No, stop right there! " Nate shushed her. "Ye don't go apologizing...I know you've been overloaded lately with all your projects."

El shrugged, dropping onto the couch beside him, her eyes fixed on the TV. "Yeah, I guess. It's just a lot, and I—"

"Deserve a break? Me and Nora reckon you've earned one," Nate grinned, nudging her. "So, how about we take off in a day or two? It's been a while since we've done a drive together, just you and me?"

"Wait, you're serious?" El stared at him, a smile breaking across her face, but her frown returned as she turned to Nora. "You're okay with that?"

"Are you kidding? Some peace and quiet, hell yeah, I'm okay with that," Nora barked a laugh. "And Codsworth's here to help, so I'll be fine."

"I like her, Nate. Can we keep her?" El smirked.

Nate's laughter bubbled, shaking his head. "Aye, she's a keeper, alright."

Nora gave them a fond smile, rising from the couch."Alright, you two, I'm going to help Codsworth tidy up, give you time to plan."

"Thanks, love," Nate's fingers curled hers as she pulled away, before turning his attention back to El.

"So, short-stop, any votes on where ye want tae go?"

"Laurey, Virginia—"

"The Caverns, again, lass?" Nate's eyebrow quirked.

"Come on, it's been months since we went to D.C. We could do a day trip to Laurey and then spend the rest of our time exploring the Capital!"

"Fine, but that damn mole costume is stayin' put!" Nate chuckled.

"She looked adorable in that thing. Never know, maybe she'll catch someone's eye!" Nora's laughter floated over them from the kitchen, and Nate grinned.

El blushed, her hand rubbing against the back of her head sheepishly. "I'll stick to studying, ta—"

"Quite right. I don't think there'd be many nerdy, bookworm Spelunkers out there that could put up with your pish!" He couldn't resist.

El's nose wrinkled, and her eyes narrowed. "Thanks for the vote of confidence—jackass."

Nate snorted and leaned back, his arms draped over the back of the couch, tuning into the TV.

The same usual shite.

A knocking came to the door, and Nora sighed. "It's probably that salesman. He's been trying all morning, insisting he talks to you."

"Oh, great." Nate rolled his eyes and lurched out of the sofa.

An all-smiles fella in a trenchcoat greeted him when he opened the door, stepping forward. "Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!"

"Sup, chief," he deadpanned, leaning against the doorframe.

"You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you," the rep explained.

Nate frowned—something about the guy's tone made him nervous.

"Alright, son, I'm here now."

"So you are, so you are,' the rep chuckled. "I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault. Vault 111. I just need to verify some information. That's all! Don't want there to be any hold ups, in the unforeseen event of *ahem*...total atomic annihilation."

"But there's room for my entire family, right?"

"Of course. Of course! Minus your robot, naturally."

"Oi, Codsworth is family!" El retorted, appearing at his side, her eyes narrowed. "He's a wee gem! We can't just leave him!"

Nate's hand fell upon his sister's shoulder, squeezing it. "General Atomics promised Codsworth could survive anything, even a nuclear blast," he reminded her, her sentiment mirrored in his heart. "Go. I've got it from here."

El nodded, a defiant glint remaining in her eyes, but she stepped aside.

Nate glanced at the rep, his unease growing."All right, let's have it."

"Splendid, splendid. Let's get to it. Just need you to fill out this paperwork, and we're all done. Won't take but a moment."

The rep pulled a clipboard out of his briefcase and held it out towards him.

Nate frowned, his jaw tense, glancing down at the stack of papers. He took the clipboard and scanned the pages, his frown deepening.

"What makes me 'S.P.E.C.I.A.L?' That's a bit on the nose, is it no? And this whole damn thing seems a wee bit excessive, no offense, son."

"None taken! It's simply a matter of determining what roles you may be able to undertake in a new life underground!"

"Well, lucky for us, we have a certified vault technician in our fold. My sister just finished her Masters at C.I.T. Did a whole project around Vault safety and maintenance," Nate couldn't help the proud smile creeping into his cheeks.

"Masters? At C.I.T?" the rep's eyebrows shot up. "My, my, that's impressive."

"Aye, she got the brains of the family. I clearly got the looks," Nate joked, handing the clipboard back to the rep. "Think that's everything, chief."

"Wonderful! That's..." he skimmed over the documents, smiling. "Yes, indeed, that is everything... just gonna walk this over to the Vault! Congratulations on being prepared for the future!"

"Aye, thanks..." Nate forced a smile, his jaw still tense. "Now, if you'll excuse us, I have a wee one who needs a bit of a feed."

"Of course, have a great day, sir, ma'am!" The Vault-Tec rep tipped his hat and strolled off, the tension in the man's shoulders not lost on him.

He watched the rep go, his instincts prickling as he stepped back inside."Something aboot that didn't sit right, did it, El?"

"I didn't like it, Nattie. You don't think he's doing this because—"

"Elspeth, don't get him started," Nora interrupted, her voice strained. "It's just a precaution, that's all."

Nate swallowed his throat tight. "Maybe ye're right, doll, but just in case, we should double-check the go bags."

Shaun's wails rang through the house. Cutting through his words, Codsworth followed.

"Master Nate. Shaun has been changed, but he absolutely refuses to calm down. I think he needs some of that "paternal affection" you seem to be so good at."

"I've got 'im." Nate smiled and strode down the hall, his unease lingering. Nora's footfalls followed.

"Right, ye wee gremlin," Nate teased, sweeping a finger over Shaun's cheek. Shaun's cries grew fainter, his teary gaze fixed on Nate.

"Spin the mobile a bit. He loves that," Nora cooed, stepping up beside him.

Nate gave the mobile a gentle spin. Shaun's gaze drifted to the spinning rockets, green eyes wide, and his cries now soft whimpers. Nora brushed Nate's arm with her hand.

"Maybe we should go out later, a walk in the park?"

"And miss the World Series on TV? Not going to happen." Nate smirked. "But tomorrow, I'm all yours! I promise."

"I'll hold you to—"

"Sir? Mum? You should come and see this!" Codsworth's urgent voice drifted over them.

Nate frowned, exchanging a glance with Nora. "Codsworth?"

"I've got Shaun," Nora assured him, scooping the baby up.

Nate hurried out of the nursery, a knot forming in his gut, his blood rushing. "Codsworth? What is it, son?"

"Sir... the news..."

El was perched on the couch, her knuckles white around her backpack, its contents organized on the coffee table. "They actually did it."

"Did what, lass?" Nate frowned, sitting beside her.

“—followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions..." the news anchor caught his attention. "We're... we're trying to get confirmation…But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations."

"What? What is he saying?" Nora's voice drifted over them. "…Oh no.”

“...We do have... coming in... confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania…My God.”

The screen crackled, and the signal was lost. Nate's gaze fixed on the 'Please Stand By' screen. His mouth ran dry, a cold sweat prickling across his forehead.

"We have to get to the Vault. Now! Get all that back in the bag. I'll grab the rest." Nate blurted, his heart pounding against his ribs.

"Nattie...I'm scared."

"We're goin' tae be fine, El. We've prepared for this...You two wait for me outside!" Nate instructed, racing into their bedroom.

He yanked open the closet, his hands trembling, hauling out his and Nora's packs, followed by Shaun's. He slung them over his shoulder and hurried through the house for the front door—stopping on the threshold, glancing over his shoulder at Codsworth.

The Mr. Handy's eye stalks flitted over him, and he glided forward. "Goodbye, sir. May I say what an honor it has been to serve you and your family!"

"Ye've done us proud, son...maybe we could—"

"Now, don't you worry about me, sir! You have your family to think about. Go on."

Nate nodded, a lump forming in his throat. "Thank you, Codsworth..."

"He'll be alright, won't he?" El's voice pulled his attention.

He stepped onto the sidewalk and grabbed his sister's hand. "He'll be fine. Now c'mon, we gotta move!"

They raced down the road, Nora ahead of him, Shaun cradled against her chest. Nate swallowed hard, his hand tightening around El's. His mind raced. Vault-Tec. The rep—he knew something was up. That bastard knew this was coming!

"Nattie?" El tugged his arm, slowing.

"We're almost there, lass. Keep moving! Come on, we're nearly there—"

"We're on the list!" Nora's frantic voice greeted them, and Nate frowned as that Vault-Tec rep darted by them.

A soldier blocked their way, checking over a clipboard."Infant... Adult male... Two adult females... OK, go ahead."

Nate's heart pounded. It was real. This was really happening. They climbed the hill and clambered onto the platform, his arms circling Nora and El.

"Almost there, we're gonna be alright. I love you, all of you." Nate murmured, his pulse throbbing in his ears.

"We love you too," Nora whispered, her gaze locked on his.

The sky lit up with blinding white light, and the ground shook beneath their feet. A deafening roar filled the air. Nate's eyes widened as a mushroom cloud grew colossal in the sky. The blast waves thunder towards them, and El buried her face against his chest. He closed his eyes, bracing for impact.

"Send it down now!" a desperate voice shouted.

An orchestra of "Oh gods" and terrorized screams flooded his ears. The platform shuddered beneath them. His arms held tighter.

The blast crossed over them. The screams echoed, his breaths shortening, the pressure around his ribcage suffocating.

He held Nora, his lips pressed to her head, praying she couldn't hear his racing heartbeat.

The light faded, and the shockwave died, his ears still ringing.

The platform shuddered to a halt.

His eyes met Nora's, tears streaming down her face.

They had made it.

"Everyone, please step off the elevator and proceed up the stairs in an orderly fashion," the Vault-Tec security guard that greeted them instructed.

El clung to him as Nate made a move to follow the others, her breaths ragged and short. He glanced at Nora, Shaun sleeping soundly in her arms.

"She'll be okay. We're right behind ye," Nate murmured. "We just need a minute."

Nora nodded, her hand resting on his shoulder. "We won't be far. I'll go find out what's what."

"Be right with ye," Nate murmured, kneeling to meet El's gaze. "Hey, hey, look at me, lass. Look at me. Deep breaths. In and out. Like we practiced."

El's eyes flicked up to his, wide and fearful. She bit her lip, nodding. Her next shaky intake of breath was longer.

"Good, lass. Again. In and out."

She followed his lead, and soon enough, El's breaths steadied as her panic subsided, her grip on his loosening.

"You're a natural," Nate grinned, easing himself up.

El didn't respond and instead stood closer. His arm circled her, guiding them toward the vast cog-shaped doorway that loomed above them. Nate's heart beat faster. This was home now, for better or worse.

"It's impressive, eh? No wonder ye wouldny pipe doon about these Vaults!" Nate quipped.

El glanced at him, a faint smirk pulling in her cheeks. Nate squeezed her shoulder, their footsteps ringing as they climbed the metal stairs.

His eyes found Nora as they crossed the metal walkway. An orderly queue had formed behind her as she was collecting something up ahead.

Nora handed him a sealed bag and another for El. He eyed it, noting the '111' matching the jumpsuits some staff were wearing.

"What, do they no' come in a braw purple or maybe fluorescent green?"

El snorted at that, a wry smile curling her lips, and Nate's heart lifted a little. She was okay.

"Just follow the doctor here. He'll show you where to go," one of the scientists instructed.

"Lead the way, doc."

As Nora chatted with the doctor, El pulled away, her steps a little firmer, her gaze still far away.

Nate was drawn to the sudden bite in the air, a shiver running through him as he followed. People chatted, residents to Vault staff. Everyone seemed as edgy as he felt. They were led to a larger room filled with 'decontamination pods,' he was told as he was led towards one.

His attention pulled back to El, her belongings dropping to her feet. She stepped in front of them as one of the staff members attempted to collect them.

"I'm sorry, miss, but you cannot take your—"

Without a word, El unveiled a lanyard from around her neck and fixed them with a stern eye.

"You're a Vault-Tec intern? Very well, but be assured, vault-tec will not be held accountable if anything were to be damaged or stolen."

El nodded, her jaw set, and Nate couldn't help a smirk. Stubborn wee devil. Nate stripped to his boxers and tugged on his Vault suit, his skin prickling.

"Could ye's no have turned on the heatin'? It's colder than a polar bear's arse in here!" Nate grumbled.

El was already suited in her's when he looked up again, leaning against her pod, shoulders slumped, a blank expression set over her feature—still not back to herself yet.

"Can you hold him?" Nora asked, pulling his thoughts. Shaun curled up against her chest.

"Of course, love," Nate scooped him up, letting Nora get herself situated. He walked over to El, her fingers brushing Shaun's cheek, a weak smile curling her lips.

"Ye gonna be alright in there? I know how you get in tight spaces."

She held up her backpack, patting it fondly. Of course, she was always packed for every occasion.

"Right then, guess we'll see ye soon," Nate tried, giving her a reassuring smile.

"Okay, I can take him," Nora's hand rested on his arm, and Nate reluctantly handed Shaun over and planted a kiss against her cheek.

Nate climbed into his pod, and with a hiss, the lid descended, his breath misting the glass. His eyes locked onto Nora's, her gaze locked on him as her own pod closed, and she bounced Shaun in her arms.

"Just try to relax," the doctor reassured.

Nate nodded, pressing his hand against the glass. "Time for a whole new life."

"Resident secure. Occupant vitals: Normal," a robotic voice filled his ears.

A rush of cold flooded his pod. Nate's pulse spiked, his next breath shuddering.

"Procedure complete. In 5... 4..."

With every beat of the countdown, his vision whitened. Frost intertwined his eyelashes with every blink—everything faded.

Nate blinks away the frost that clings to his eyelashes, stretching his jaw to loosen the remainder of his beard and whiskers. It was a cold that hung as heavy as iron chains. Every breath stung his chest like swallowing broken glass as violent coughs wreck through him.

"...Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All vault residents must vacate immediately," The computerized voice echoed through the intercom, and a hiss filled his ears.

As the pod door lifts away, Nate's still-thawing limbs do nothing to prevent him from stumbling forward. His knees crack against the slick steel floor, a haze of mist following him. He didn't dare look up, unwilling to face the truth that the nightmare was real. But there was no escaping the memories that assaulted every fiber of his being: Nora's please, Shaun's cries as they tear him from his mother's embrace. Nate's own screams—lost in the deafening Gunshot that silenced Nora and continued to echo as Shaun's heartbreaking wails faded away—the face that mets him and the words that followed:

At least we still have the backup.

"That scar-faced bastard! Why did he have tae—"

"...Critical failure in Cryogenic Array. All vault residents must vacate immediately,"

"Oh, shut up!" Nate yelled as he snapped his head back. "Can ye no see I'm havin' a moment, ye pushy cow!"

Blissful silence filled the chamber once more, and Nate breathed a sigh of relief. As if another entity had taken control of his body, he stood to his full height and ambled forward. His steps were clumsy, and fog engulfed the room as he moved toward Nora's pod. The faint glint of gold caught his eye. Her wedding band shined through the condensation. His fingers trailed over the icy glass.

Nora, his best friend, the woman he pledged his entire life to. Her rosy cheeks were now dusted blue, fear still painted in her expression. Her arms were so painfully absent—Shaun. He's just a baby, and they tore him out of her arms. Nate's knees buckled some, jolting him forward, and he braced himself, breaths coming out in rasps, his lungs constricting, the very walls closing in. His eyes opened over his wedding ring, a matching piece—he'd be dammed if he was leaving her's behind.

"C'mon! C'mon! There has tae be a release!" Nate barked, desperation bleeding into his brogue as he stepped back to take in the pod, reaching for the lever at its side.

His breath held as Nora's pod opened to him. Slowly, reverently, he slipped the ring off her finger, ignoring the spiderwebbing of frosted blood that now decorated her jumpsuit. Together, he joins their bands onto the chain around his neck, keeping them safe with his dog tags, holding them tight in his grasp. The mere sentiment of having them together offers a measure of comfort.

"I'll find who did this, and I'll get Shaun back. I promise."

With a brush of his lips against the cool metal, Nate tucks the chain securely behind his vault suit, and the fog clouding his mind subsides some. All he had to do was get El and get the hell out of this godforsaken ice box.

Shaky hands grip the lever release to El's cryopod, and he is met with an immediate sharp, jolting buzz that has him staggering back.

"Malfunction in Cryo Pod manual release override." A robotic female voice announces over the intercom.

"No-no-no! C'mon! I need tae open this damn thing!" Nate pulls the handle harder. Again, the error noise frays his nerves, not releasing. "Come on!" He presses a palm to the frost-covered glass, feeling the cold sting on his hand. "El!" Tears stream down his cheeks, warm against the cold fog surrounding him. "No. This can't-" His forehead rests against the pod. He closes his eyes tightly and sobs. “Ye cannae do this! I just need tae get El!"

His mind falls back to the terminal those scientist-looking folks were working on when they were after Shaun, how they opened Nora's pod. Nate spins on his heels and sprints forward, almost pummeling into the console as he slides to a halt. Fingers still stiff from his suspended animation, rattle the keys. Nate squints at the screen with a shaky breath, jumping through the entries as quickly as his frozen digits allow.

******** Welcome to ROBCO Industries (TM) Termlink ********

Thank you for choosing Vault-Tec!

>Cryogenic Array: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled.

>Life Support: Offline. Premature termination resulting in system failure. Isolated manual and remote overrides detected. Controls disabled.

Pod Occupant Status

POD C1: Miss Watt

>Occupant status: Deceased. Cause of Death: Asphyxiation due to Life Support failure.

********************************************************************

It takes several moments for him to comprehend the words laid bare.

Every occupant record painted the same picture: Cause of Death: Asphyxiation.

Nate collapses, his knees slamming on the steel, fingers clawing at the frost-covered ground, and a scream rips through him, a blood-curdling wail that echoes out in the empty chamber. Every cell in his body is alight, a sickening, bitter cold fire. His shoulders shake violently, and he balls his fists, pounding them to the floor until his knuckles are raw. He barely feels the biting pain as the fight seeps away, leaving him drained, tears frozen on his cheeks.

Nate doesn't move for a long moment—left alone with his thoughts and the steady Drip. Drip. Drip. of frost melting. His little sister is dead. They're both gone. It would be easy to submit to his grief, crumple over, and lose himself in the pain—but they have his son. He has to find Shaun, even if all he has left is a warped image of a man who ruined his world. A scar-faced bastard whom Nate committed to memory. His fingers curl around the chain of his dog tags, fidgeting the wedding bands between bloodied knuckles, the cold metal grounding him, and as Nate grits his teeth, steeling his heart, and sets his jaw, he stands.

A silent vow plays on his lips: For Shaun. For Nora. And for El. He would rain fire upon whoever took them from him, even if it meant tearing whatever world awaited him apart, one bullet at a time.

He vows it as he looks upon El's face. Russet frost-bitten curls drape across her forehead. A picture so peaceful she may as well be sleeping.

He vows it as his lips graze Nora's cheek before resealing the pod, committing his love's image to memory.

He vows it as his fingers trace Shaun's name, etched in ink within the tan line of his wedding band.

As the Sole Survivor of Vault 111, he has nothing left to lose and everything to fight for.

War Never Changes, and Nate was ready to wage it.

[androfergiespaces]

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