The morning mist drifted lazily through the ruins of Sanctuary Hills, long rays of sunlight slicing through cracked windows and rusted fences. Birds circled overhead—few, cautious.
Inside what was once Nate's home, the living room had been cleaned and partially restored—per his request. A battered fusion heater hummed near the wall, the only real warmth in the chill.
Nate sat carefully on the couch, ribs still wrapped in gauze. Dogmeat lay at his feet, ears flicking but relaxed. Across from him sat Sarah, her armor shed to reveal the Division undersuit beneath. Preston leaned forward from a nearby armchair.
Outside, Team 404 patrolled the perimeter with quiet precision, keeping the house off-limits. Inside, Codsworth floated in the kitchen, preparing what could pass for breakfast.
Preston finally broke the stillness.
Preston: "I don't get it. You've helped us—from Quincy to Lexington. That vertibird strike saved half my squad. But you've stayed in the shadows. Why?"
Sarah didn't answer right away. She reached into her gear and placed a smooth, silver emblem on the coffee table—etched only with SHD.
Sarah: "Because we were never meant to be seen."
Nate's brow furrowed.
Nate: "Who are you?"
Sarah:"Commander Sarah. Possibly the last Division agent still operational. Pre-war classified. Post-war resurrected."
She turned toward Preston.
Sarah:"We supported the formation of the Minutemen after the bombs. Helped General Mayfield unify local militias. Supplied logistics, weapons, and coordination. But we weren't the leaders—we stayed in the background."
Preston:"So you're saying… you helped build the Minutemen?"
Sarah:"The Minutemen were a test. Could an armed force protect people without becoming conquerors? We gave them tools. Intel. Infrastructure. But no control. That's why only high-ranking officers ever knew of the Division's involvement. To everyone else, we were just a quiet, supportive PMC."
Her gaze hardened.
Sarah:
"It worked. Until the Castle fell. Until the CPG massacre."
Nate: "And where were you?"
She lowered her voice.
Sarah: "Washington D.C. Guiding another Vault Dweller through Raven Rock. We hit an Enclave stronghold and recovered a GECK. Enough to restart clean water for thousands. After that, I had to reroute supply chains from the north to cover collapse risks."
ISAC chirped softly from her wrist-mounted device:
"Operation Gethsemane Protocol: Successful. Casualties: 58%. Timeline disruption: 10 years."
Sarah: "When I got back, everything was ash. Our warnings had been ignored. Our leadership was compromised. And Colonel Hollis let Quincy fall from within."
Preston clenched his fists.
Preston: "He knew. And he still let Clint rot us out…"
Sarah: "Whether through pride or pressure, he failed. All that mattered then… was who survived."
A flick of her watch brought up a holographic map—Quincy, Lexington, Sanctuary—each blinking with incident tags.
Sarah: "We've been cleaning up ever since. Quietly. Efficiently. They call us 'mercs.' They call me 'Doll Commander.' Some even whisper Institute puppet."
She gestured to a nearby crate where G11 napped with a cap pulled over her eyes.
Sarah: "I've been augmented, reinforced. Maybe not fully human anymore. But my mission hasn't changed: save what remains. Rebuild."
Nate: "And what about me?"
Her voice softened.
Sarah: "I didn't expect a miracle. But when I saw you in Vault 111, still alive—I knew there was hope. One more chance to do this right."
Preston nodded slowly, then looked to Nate.
Sarah: "Here the deal, Nate, Join the minutemen be the General a symbol of hope back to the people"
Preston:
"You saved us at Concord. You charged into the Museum of Freedom without backup, threw yourself in a suit of power armor armor from Sturges guidance, and tore through raiders and a deathclaw—all without asking for a thing in return."
He smiled faintly.
Preston: "That kind of courage? That earns my respect. You are the kind of person people will follow."
Nate: "Wait wait wait—why me? Why not you? Or Sarah?"
Sarah:
"I've lost the people's trust. They see my dolls and wonder if I'm even human. Most wouldn't follow me out of a burning building."
Preston: "I can lead in the field. Hold a perimeter. But I'm no symbol. Not the kind people will rally around. You? You already did that—without even trying."
Nate leaned back, exhaling.
Nate: "I… I need to think."
Sarah gave Preston a subtle nod.
Sarah:
"Of course. Take the time you need. Preston—let's give him space."
The two rose and stepped outside, leaving Nate in the soft hum of the heater and Codsworth's distant humming.
He sat alone for a while. Then remembered something.
He opened the holotape pouch on his belt, pulled out a faded cartridge. The label read:
"Hi Honey!"
Sliding it into his Pip-Boy, he leaned back as a familiar voice crackled to life.
A soft hiss filled the room as the holotape spun up.
Nora's voice, bright and loving, echoed through the small speakers.
Nora (recorded):"Hi, honey. If you're hearing this, I guess I'm just out for a bit with Shaun. Probably picking up more baby wipes—or coffee. God, we're always out of coffee."
Nate couldn't help but smile faintly, even as his chest ached.
Nora (recorded):"I just... wanted to say I love you. In case I forgot this morning. Or in case I forget tomorrow. I know I say it all the time, but sometimes... sometimes we forget to mean it."
Dogmeat stirred, lifting his head to listen.
Nora (recorded):"You're the bravest man I know, Nate. Whether it's in uniform, in the kitchen, or wrestling Shaun into his pajamas. Wherever life takes us—wherever the world spins next—I'll always be proud of you."
The tape clicked softly.
End of playback.
The silence afterward was heavier than before. Nate stared at the blank Pip-Boy screen, jaw tight. Then slowly, he reached over and removed the holotape, cradling it like a relic.
Outside, the wind rustled dry leaves across the cracked walkway.
Inside, something in him settled.
He wasn't ready for everything.
But maybe—just maybe—he could be ready for this.