Rehabilitation [Fallout 4, Another Way Series Pt 1]

Chapter 2

Dez (which Nora had quickly learned was short for Desdemona based on the other agents addressing her in full) showed the former Brotherhood members around their new home. The pair was less than impressed but the fortitude of the stone tunnel system was better than most of the crumbling shelters in the Commonwealth. They met with Tinker Tom, eccentric and worrisome, but nice enough. They came to know the two gun-wielding agents from the platform as Glory and Drummer Boy. A Doctor Carrington was also present, as were an Assaultron called P.A.M. and a handful of other agents doing various jobs around the headquarters. It was quite a spectacle but the two were exhausted from their trek to safety, having to be wary of the Brotherhood on top of everything else that wanted them dead.

When they had gotten settled and each claimed a mattress in a back tunnel, Danse and Nora were led to a side room with a desk and terminal. Deacon set up chairs behind the desk where the newcomers sat. He interrupted Bobby Darin by clicking off a nearby radio mid-song then took a seat at the computer with a heavy sigh.

"Alright," he began, opening a program. "We have a pretty standard checklist for synths we help out. I'm just gonna go down the list. No need to make any decisions today." He read the list from the screen. "First, you'll need a new name. That one's pretty obvious and unavoidable."

Danse's thick brows raised. He wasn't too surprised by the suggestion but was unsure how to approach it. Nora nodded in understanding to Deacon who offered, "You'll have time to think about it, or we can give you one. Next: you'll need a new face."

"Is that easy?" Nora asked. "How good are these butcher shops that claim plastic surgery as their profession?"

"It's not so bad," Deacon beamed. "I turned out okay after my rehabilitation." He turned his head a few different ways as if to model the work.

"Y-you're—?"

"That's right," he said then quickly moved on. "The third thing is strongly advised but it's ultimately up to you. I want you to think about it. Just like your name, you can let me know later."

"What is it?" Danse replied.

"We suggest you leave the Commonwealth." Nora cringed. Danse only nodded and made soft fists atop his knees.

"With the presence of the Institute, it's not easy for synths here. There are many options but Capital Wasteland is easiest. We can discuss locations in time."

Nora turned to her companion and looked at him desperately but he never turned to her, either out of his usual obliviousness or determination not to show her that he reciprocated the sadness. Nora was truly clueless as to his feelings about her. The most she had received from him was appreciation for having saved his life and even then, it was paired with a desire to end it himself.

"As for the fourth," Deacon continued, watching Nora to make sure he was being heard over her obviously booming thoughts, "it's completely up to you, of course. Your situation can't be easy. It could help you if we did a memory wipe."

"What??" Nora broke.

"As far as we understand it, your personality would technically remain in tact. To be frank, we're all driven by a collection of cells that determine how we react to experiences. Your hormones drive you and shape your personality. We won't touch anything but your memories, so your personality could remain, just without the memories that influenced it. It would depend on the new ones you receive and would be molded by those experiences, not the ones your human counterpart grew up with."

"If he gets a new set of memories, he could turn out to be influenced into someone else entirely. Even with the same chemical makeup telling him how to react, the same person growing up as a farmer, a doctor, a soldier... They could end up totally different because of the experiences."

"Right," the Railroad agent confirmed. "Or, we could wipe your memories entirely. We empty you out, except for basic things like motor skills and linguistic knowledge, and explain everything from there. 'You're a synth, don't even worry about what happened in the past. You need to be careful out there. Here's a one-way ticket to Capital Wasteland. Go make your own memories.'"

Danse's mind raced at the possibilities. There were so many unknowns for the fourth item on the checklist. He kept his thoughts to himself for now. They were so clouded anyway. It had only been a few days since Maxson had ordered his death and Danse's heart still ached over the look in the Elder's eyes. Such betrayal Danse had never known and would never forget... unless he took Deacon up on the offer to do so.

Deacon stood slowly, trying not to interrupt Danse's thoughts. "Think things over. There's time." Before leaving the room, he clicked back on the radio to mask the ensuing conversation from the ears of the other agents. He was a sneak and an eavesdropper but whatever emotionally-charged conversation was about to take place was of no value to the Railroad. As he crossed the threshold back into the main room, Deacon took a lingering look at Nora. She was genuinely in despair for her friend. He hadn't seen emotion so bottled since his look in the mirror to shave that morning. He left the companions to their discussion.