Kids Shouldn't be Here: Deacon
Fallout 4 Platonic Companions x Child! Sole
Warnings: Canon Typical Violence, Child in dangerous situations
A/N: This is NOT romantic at all! This is all platonic relationships that explore how the Fallout 4 companions and game would change if the Sole Survivor was a young child. Any romantic suggestions or reblogs will be blocked.
Masterlist
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Synths were never designed to look like kids.
At least, no one had seen one that did. Multiple adult looking synths had been discovered, but never once had anyone ever confirmed that their child had been replaced with a look-a-like. Granted, many didn't want to risk turning their gun against what could potentially be their child. Only the truly paranoid individuals would be willing to take that chance.
The deaths of those kids weighed heavy on the heads of most.
Even the Railroad, the liberators of synths, had never seen a synth child. They reasoned amongst themselves that the Institute never made any because there was no point. Children were smaller, weaker and were not typically given access to important information in major settlements. It would be a waste of time and resources to create something that would forever need someone to care for it.
The thought lingered in the back of agents' minds though. What if there was synth designed to be a kid? Where would they go? How would they survive once freed from the Institute?
—---------------------------------
Deacon always observed before engaging with a potential synth.
Intel gathering was part of his job as a spy for the Railroad. First, he needed to confirm the person of interest is, in fact, a synth. He had been doing this long enough that he's gotten pretty good at guessing. After he got actual confirmation outside of his gut feeling, he had to collect information on if they knew they were a synth, who would be affected if they were found out, if they were reporting back to the Institute, etc. etc. It was a long, and quite frankly, mostly boring process that could take weeks before he could send in any significant report.
So he was pretty confident in his assessment that the kid who randomly emerged from a previously thought empty Vault and proceeded to involve herself into every known problem in issue in the Commonwealth was not a synth. Which made his job infinitely harder.
Synths with Institute code were programmed with where they needed to go, what they had to do, a schedule of sorts. Sunny Roberts had no set path. She would be at the Castle one day, then in Gray Garden the next, then she would be visiting Vault 81 for a week before heading out to the Glowing Sea. It was a nightmare trying to keep up with her and keep hidden amongst the locals. He did it, of course, but if the rest of the Commonwealth wasn't as equally invested in the Sole Survivor, he would have lost track of her months ago.
Which was why it was such a relief when the kid finally collected all the clues on the Trail of Freedom and joined their ranks as an honorary agent and liaison between the Minutemen and Railroad. While Deacon had listed her multiple achievements when he had vouched for her(many of which sounded stranger than most lies he's told. He wouldn't have believed half of them if he hadn't seen them happen with own eyes.), Desdemona had refused to clear her for any official missions. She claimed that fighting ghouls and Raiders was somehow less dangerous than fighting synths, despite the kid having taken out a courier.
“If her pre-war DNA didn't already make her a likely person of interest for the Institute, then being involved with almost every major event and faction in the last couple of months surely will,” Glory had reasoned with him later. “It's safer for her and everyone else involved if she only delivers messages between us and the Minuteman. We don't know what they would do to her, but there are fates far worse than the death that raiders would grant.”
Yes, Deacon understood. Putting the 12 year old in even more combat situations is bad. But his counterpoint: Sunny was doing that anyway. She wasn't supposed to be doing the Minuteman missions and she was never cleared for anything with the Brotherhood. She just showed up. She eavesdropped, snooped, and barged her way into dangerous missions for the Minuteman and the Brotherhood (previously). In his humble opinion, the mission ban they put on her only put her in more danger. Better to direct all her toward the less dangerous missions and keep an eye on her than let her get eaten by a super mutant.
Which is why when he was told to gather intel on a settlement called “Covenant”, he decided to take the scenic route and stop at Sanctuary. Deacon thought the assignment would be perfect to start the kid off on. Just some intel gathering in a fixed area. Low risk of her getting captured by synths and wasn't supposed to last as long as some other assignments he's had. She could even use some of those sleuthing skills she picked up from Valentine.
Sanctuary has changed a bit since it first started out. All of the debris had been removed from the street and creek and the long destroyed houses had been cleared for new ones. What houses that were still structurally sound had additions built on to accommodate everyone. Where there had once been a little playground held together by rust and termites, there was now a pretty decent field of wheat, corn, tatos, melons and other crops.
Overall, the settlement had decently grown in the past couple of months.
Deacon didn't really need a disguise around here. While no one here knew him (outside of the few companions that were allowed to accompany Sunny when she was at the Railroad base), the diverse range of settlers allowed really anyone to blend in. He was able to walk down the street and not a single person batted an eye (Except for the old lady, Mama Murphy, who gave him a knowing smile from her seat)
Sunny was easy to find with the cobalt blue of her suit that stood out like a sore thumb no matter where she was, especially with her combat armor off. She was on the side porch of her old home, scrubbing soap and water into Dogmeat's fur in an old, patched up tin tub.
“Dogmeat! No! No kisses! It's bathtime! You smell like Brahmin crap!”
“Hey, don't scold the pup,” Deacon teased. “He just wants you to join him.”
“AH!” Sunny nearly tumbled into the tub as she jumped away from him, exciting Dogmeat even further. He launched himself up on her, placing his paws on her shoulders and pushing her backwards as he licked all over her face.
“Woah!” Deacon grabbed Sunny's shoulders to keep her and Dogmeat from falling backwards. “Just wanted to drop by and say hi. Didn't mean to startle you.”
He did. He totally did.
Sunny gently pushed Dogmeat back into the water, her suit now wet from the bathwater and her face from dog slobber. Deacon could see her barely contained frustration and he wondered how long she had been fighting to get the German Shepard properly clean.
“It's fine, Mr. Deacon,” She sighed. “He would have done it on his own eventually.” She picked up an old metal can and filled it with water, pouring it over Dogmeat. Silence stretched between them as she attempted to get all the soap and remaining dirt in his surprisingly thick fur.
“Soooooo…still giving Garvey heart palpations from going on Minuteman calls?”
More water was poured. “If he doesn't want me to go on missions, he should start having them use a code on Radio Freedom.”
“Uh-huh. And when you were with the Brotherhood?”
“Both their security and morals are crap. Not my fault they make their passwords so easy, even I can break into them! And I'm terrible at breaking into them!”
“Surprised you haven't snuck your way into any Railroad mission yet,” Deacon teased. “What, does the Great Sole Survivor not feel like lending a hand to some poor synths?”
Sunny shot him glare as icy as a winter night. “First of all, you call me that again and I push you into this tub.”
Dogmeat barked in agreement.
“Second of all,” She continued. “Of course I want to help, but you guys are actually good at keeping your secret missions…well, secret! You use codes, secret messages and hidden caches! I'm not even sure if you write down anything until it's already done.”
“We don't.”
“I knew it!” She dropped the can in with as much finality and exasperation a 12 year old with braids could muster and spun around, gaze full of suspension. “Why are you here, Mr. Deacon? I know it's not to say hi. I don't think I've ever seen you outside of the Railroad base.”
She had seen him, she just didn't know it. While Sunny was aware that Deacon spied on her travels through the Commonwealth, she never recognized him in his disguises. Deacon wasn't even sure if she knew about the disguises. She had asked questions about what everyone did and who they were and everything like that but Deacon had avoided providing details like the plague so Sunny only knew what everyone else in the Railroad did: that he was a spy and a damned good one.
“I got an assignment to do some recon at this settlement a bit south from here.” Deacon said. “Covenant. For a new settlement, it's looking pretty good. I've been meaning to pay a visit. You heard of it?”
“Uuuuuhhhhhhh,” Sunny droned in thought. “I think so. It's ,like, a gated community with turrets, right? I've passed it a couple of times but I've never had a reason to go there.”
“Well, now you're gonna get up close and personal with it,” Deacon slapped a hand on her shoulder and gave a grin. “You're coming with me to investigate it.”
Sunny gave him a confused stare.
“What? I thought you guys didn't want me to go on missions.”
“Correction: Desdemona doesn't want you on missions,” he said. “Which is why we aren't gonna tell her. Better for me to supervise you on my missions than you trying to fight another courier.”
“I mean I may-”
“But first we need to find you some new clothes.”
“What?”
“You know, when you said I needed to change my clothes, I didn't think you would mean in a style that's over 200 years out of date, Mr. Deacon. I thought I would have to wear spy clothes.”
At that moment, Dogmeat decided he was done with waiting for Sunny to fully rinse him out and jumped out of the tub. Shaking his fur, he sprayed water everywhere. Now they both needed a change of clothes.
—---------------------------------
Sunny’s typical vault suit and boots had been switched out with a pink, frilly dress and black flats with knee high socks. Her duffel bag, Pip-boy and sniper rifle had been hidden in a nearby cache, along with the purple ribbon that was normally tied in a neat bow on the top of her head. Her hair had been freed from the twin braids and was left hanging loose past her shoulders. Dogmeat trotted alongside her, a worn pink collar replacing his armor, goggles and armor. Deacon wondered if she chose the collar to match her dress.
They had long left Sanctuary and were now on their way to Covenant. Deacon could see it just a little ways off, its walls sticking out awkwardly in the landscape.
“These are spy clothes, kiddo,” Deacon said. He had changed into a plaid shirt and jeans with his black wig and sunglasses set firmly in place. “Them being over two centuries old just means they match you.”
“Oh, haha,” She deadpanned. “But, seriously, why do I need to wear this? What if I get in a fight?”
“We're gathering information, eavesdropping, snooping, spying, not fighting,” He explained. “Can't really do that if everyone recognizes you as the Sole Survivor of Vault 111. If anything is going on, they'll be on guard. But if they think we're just normal settlers, they'll be less suspicious.”
“How do you know they'll recognize me?”
“Everyone will recognize you,” he said. “You have been in almost every single news story from Diamond City Radio for months and the Vaultsuit isn’t exactly conspicuous.”
“Oh.”
“And if things go south, there’s a pistol in the hidden pocket of your skirt.”
Sunny stopped and started feeling around the layers of her dress as Deacon kept walking. She let out a surprised noise when she pulled out a 5mm and 2 magazines out of an almost invisible seam on her side.
“This place is weird.”
“How did I not feel this when putting this on? How did you do that? Where did you get a dress with pockets?”
—---------------------------------
“What gave it away? The fact that everyone looks like they came from one of those old dentistry ads or the freaky questionnaire we were forced to take?
“They have lemonade, Deacon,” Sunny hissed. “Where did they get the lemons?!”
“Hush before someone hears you,” Deacon placed a hand over her mouth. Looking around, there wasn't anyone close enough to hear Sunny's harsh whispers. Most of the Covent's residents had long since gone to bed, but they had the excuse of Dogmeat to be out so late. Only one guard had stopped to question them and had accepted the explanation easily. Dogmeat had actually needed to do his business and had no problem marking the whole settlement as his territory, so that was probably why.
“You're supposed to be my kid, remember? Call me dad, or papa, or father or something like that.”
“No one is around to hear me, so I'm calling you Deacon,” Sunny said. “How did they believe you are my dad? You look way too young.”
“Thanks for the compliment, I moisturize.” Deacon joked. “And what happened to Mr. Deacon?”
“You lost that privilege that moment you called me ‘Sunshine’ to the guards,” she said seriously.
“Well, I can't exactly call you by your actual name, so I went with a nickname,” he shrugged. “Now seriously, did you find out anything?”
Sunny dug through her pocket and pulled out a note, passing it to him.
“I talked to a guy named Honest Dan. Apparently, he's investigating a missing caravan from Bunker Hill. A girl from a really important family was with them and her family hired him to find her. He thinks the people here have something to do with it and asked for help.”
Deacon glanced over the note himself, before raising an eyebrow.
“He asked you for help? Does he know who you are?”
“No, he said since me and you arrived after him, we are the only ones he knows for sure aren't involved. He just got to me first.”
Deacon nodded, stuffed the note in his pocket and pulled out a cigarette. As he lit it, Dogmeat trotted over and started sniffing along the bottom of the wall, looking for a spot he hadn't claimed as his territory.
“Trusting guy.”
“I have a trustworthy face,” Sunny said. “What can I say?”
Deacon stayed silent for a moment. While it was a good lead and need to be followed, he wasn't sure if he trusted it. No one who unironically called themselves “Honest Dan” was truly honest.
Sunny dug further into her pocket and pulled out another piece of paper.
“Also I got this.”
Deacon took it more incredulously. The paper had a random word scrawled across it with nothing else. He chewed on his cigarette and raised his eyebrow again, but with more judgment.
“Aaaannnndd what are these?”
Sunny smiled. “That's the pass code to the terminal inside that building with the cell over there. I took it from the shopkeeper.”
Deacon held back a laugh as he stuffed the note and key in his pocket with the other one.
“Damn. Now I see why Valentine hired you.”
Deacon woke up the next morning to Sunny already gone. A note had been stuck to his face that said, “helping Dan with that favor. Go on ahead.”
“Thanks. Hancock and Mac have been teaching me how to pickpocket…. Don't tell Codsworth.”
—---------------------------------
A bit too obvious for his liking but it was vague enough where no one would question it to much if they saw it. He wasn't sure what else Sunny was investigating, but she had done a good job on her own yesterday. She would be fine on her own for a bit.
He was further along one day into this investigation than he normally was in one week. Guess having an extra set of eyes and ears helps more than he thought. Deacon had seen how fast Sunny worked, but he didn't think it would apply to espionage. It was like the universe forgot to give her an off switch. She was constantly going, constantly doing, only stopping if she had to sleep or wait for something else. Maybe two centuries of sleep in an ice box just gave her an endless reserve of energy.
It took until roughly midday for an opening for him to get into the building. Until then, he had to make polite small talk with the settlers (They now thought Sunny’s name was Jessie, she was born when Deacon was a teenager and her mother had ran off with a guard from Goodneighbor) and drink a few cans of lemonade (Getting something non-irradiated to drink was a rare treat, he was taking advantage of it, mystery lemons be damned). It only took a minute of everyone else going to get their lunch and the guards looking the right way for him to slip inside. It was nicely decorated, with a bookshelf, couches and even a rug. If it wasn’t for the cell to the side, he would have thought it was just an office.
Deacon didn’t know how much time he had in here, so the terminal took priority. Punching in the password, the neon green letters sparked to life across the screen. The first thing available were personnel files on the settlers here. The details on what the settlement was doing was vague, but almost all of them mentioned a mission and a Compound of some sort. The second file was the important one. It was a draft of a message that he guessed was supposed to be sent soon and deleted off the terminal completely, but had been left unfinished for unknown reasons. It said that Mr.Huntley had to abort runs to the Compound at the Mystic Pines’ Pond. Whatever was going on here was centered around there.
“Deacon!”
“Fucking sh-!” Deacon jumped up and away in surprise as his foot caught on the rug and he landed with a rather harsh thud.
“What the fuck kid?” he whispered harshly. “Where did you even come from? I haven’t seen you anywhere all day.”
Sunny held up a stealthboy with an apologetic smile.
“Sorry,” she said. “I snuck out the front gate super early so no one could see me. I was trying to track where that caravan Honest Dan mentioned went. I didn’t wake you because I figured you wanted to stay and check out the terminal, but I had to grab my stealthboy on my way back to sneak back in. It only wore off just now. I’ve been reading over your shoulder for almost five minutes.”
Deacon sighed and pushed himself up, rubbing his bruised tailbone. “I kinda deserve that, I guess. Did you find the caravan?”
“Only what’s left of them,” Sunny pulled an empty can of Deezer’s lemonade out of her dress pocket. “I found them all dead just northeast of here. Looks like they were ambushed or something. I found this in their cooler so they were definitely here, but Amelia Stockton, the girl Honest Dan is looking for and was supposed to be with them, her body wasn’t there. So either someone moved her corpse within a very short timeframe for no reason or she’s still alive.”
“And I bet that she’s being held at whatever compound these creeps have at Mystic Pines’ Pond,” Deacon said.
“Should we tell Honest Dan or go in on our own?” she asked.
Deacon hesitated. Technically, he wasn’t supposed to engage right now. He was doing recon, gathering information. He had the information now, so he should report back to the Railroad and have another agent sent in that was equipped to handle whatever the problem was. Maybe even inform the Minutemen since he hadn’t found any confirmation that synths were being targeted here. He was already likely to get in trouble if someone (likely Glory) found out he had brought Sunny with him on a mission. He could only imagine how much trouble he would get in if he brought her into an actual fight, despite her being able to handle it.
“Deacon?” Sunny whispered, lips turning down in confusion. “We are going, right? She needs help, we can’t just leave her.”
Deacon looked into Sunny’s wide eyes. The kid was so trusting, but she didn’t know him. No one at the Railroad knew him outside of the work he did. Her stare felt like she couldn’t believe he was hesitating, like she knew he was supposed to help. Maybe she only trusted him because he was part of the Railroad, but something in him nagged to show that she was right. Deacon wasn’t sure if anyone had ever just… assumed he was a good guy. Even other agents were weary of his secretive ways and lying tongue. It took years for most to understand that even if he held his cards close to his chest, he was trying to do the right thing.
Sunny seemed to immediately get that and he was grateful for it.
Deacon had formed an idea in his head on what the Compound looked like. Guards, obviously. Probably a bunch of chems and booze everywhere. None of the files had stated what its "mission" exactly was, but if they were attacking caravans and kidnapping girls, he guessed some type of slaver operation, so some cages or cells were expected. While slaves weren't as common in the Commonwealth as they were in ,say, the Capital Wasteland, but there were more than a couple individuals that had the power to buy one, and there was enough demand to make a profit from transporting slaves out of the Commonwealth.
“Tell Dan,” he sighed. “I’m gonna need back up and you are staying hidden with that Stealthboy, got it?”
—---------------------------------
He wasn’t expecting the twisting mess of tunnels and pipes that twisted and turned at every step. When the head guard escorted him and Honest Dan through the Compound, (He could only assume Sunny was either following nearby or had snuck in further. There was no way for him to keep track of her with her Stealthboy.) he had seen evidence of some sort of experiments going on, with people as the test subjects. Whatever it was looked way more complicated than a slaver operation.
Dr. Chambers was the nutcase behind it all. She had made the weird entrance questionnaire they were made to answer in an effort to create a perfect way to identify synths and kill them off. She would use the questions to form a “baseline” and then torture her victims to get the results she wanted. She claimed that Amelia Stockton was a synth, and that even if she wasn’t, she knew too much about the operation to be released.
“I’ll make you a deal. If you let me dispose of Stockton’s synth and continue our work, I’ll match whatever reward you were offered.”
“I’ve had my fill of crazy on this contract,” Dan said with a sneer. “No deal.”
“Fortunately for me, I wasn’t talking to you.” Chamber replied coldly.
Dan opened his mouth to bark another insult, but was cut off by the sound of a gunshot cracking through the air. Chambers stumbled forward as the bullet went through her left shoulder, blood gushing out and staining her white lab coat. Sunny appeared up above her on the ledge, rage painting her face as her body shook. If it was from the anger or the force of the 5mm, Deacon couldn’t tell.
“FUCK YOU, ASSHOLE!” Sunny yelled, pulling the trigger again.
This shot was less steady, only grazing Chamber’s arm. Deacon and Dan pulled their own weapons out as quickly as they could, but the head guard had retaliated at the same time, shooting up at Sunny as Chambers swung with her gun at the two men. Sunny cried out in pain as it went through her right shoulder higher and farther from her chest than Chamber’s wound. She crumbled to the ground, dropping her gun as she tried to both hold the rail in front of her and press down on the wound.
The guard went down in only a few shots and Chambers even less.
“Get the kid.” Honest Dan said as soon as the fight was over. He reached into his pocket and tossed a stimpak to Deacon. “I’ll get Stockton and we can get out of this creepshow.”
Deacon took two steps at a time to get to Sunny. The kid was tough, she had taken hits before, but before she had either thick leather or hard combat armor over her vault suit to protect her from significant injuries. Her preference for sniping and stealth and her ever rotating sets of body guards had been even more protection. She had snapped bones, been horribly bruised from bullets and probably permanently messed up her shoulder from her rifle, but Deacon wasn’t sure if she ever had a bullet wound.
His first priority was getting the bullet out. Sunny had gotten herself into a sitting position, but was curled in on herself with both hands pressing against the wound. Snot and tears were dripping down her face as she tried to bite back whimpers and hiccups of pain. The pink dress had a blooming flower of red covering its top, ruining it forever. Deacon pushed on her uninjured shoulder as gently as he could to force her to sit up straight and give him access to the injury.
“Hold on a sec, kid.” Deacon assured her. “I’ll get you sorted as soon as I get the bullet out.”
“With what?!” Sunny cried in a mix of pain and anger.
“Pair of pliers.” he answered, digging through his pockets. The pliers were mostly used to pick locks on the rare occasion he needed to, but they should work.
“Is it gonna hurt?”
Deacon looked into Sunny’s eyes, hoping to invoke the same trust from earlier through his sunglasses.
“Yeah, it’s gonna hurt, but I can’t give you a stimpak until we get it out. Can’t exactly return you to the Minutemen with an extra pound of metal in ya.”
“Not the time for jo-AAHHK!” Deacon had brought the old pliers into Sunny’s wound, touching raw nerves as he tried to find the bullet embedded in her flesh.
The hardest part was getting a grip on the bullet because it was so slippery from blood and Sunny kept squirming in pain. Once Deacon had pulled the hunk of metal out of the pre-teen, it was easy to inject her with a stimpak and watch as the flesh and skin knitted itself back together. Sunny had stayed in the same spot as Deacon gathered files from the nearby terminal, only forcing herself up once he was finished. Deacon wasn’t sure why no more guards had come in following the gunshots, but he didn’t intend to stick around and find out.
“Sorry,” he said, “Had to distract you to get these in. It’s still gonna hurt so brace yourself.”
—---------------------------------
Sunny stayed close to Deacon, Honest Dan and Amelia as they exited. Once back in the open air, Dan had dropped a sizable number of caps in his hand, telling the pair to stay safe before leaving to escort Amelia back to Bunker Hill. Sunny stayed silent and near even once they were left alone and walking back to get their supplies from the cache. She let out an occasional groan or whimper of pain from the residual pain from the now closed wound and stimpak shot.
They were about halfway to the cache when she finally spoke.
“Are you mad?”
Deacon wasn’t mad. He was thinking. Covenant was a much bigger issue than anyone thought it was going to be and he would have to report that the whole town was an operation to capture synths. Considering how many settlers had likely become victims to Chamber’s crazy operation, it was an issue for both the Minutemen and the Railroad. While he could easily omit that Sunny was there when sending intel to just the Railroad, he couldn’t as easily avoid it in a report that mobilized action against a whole settlement.
He wasn’t mad though. He appreciated the passion and drive for action. The Railroad needed that. Sunny just needed to learn to control her impulses, to keep that passion under wraps when the situation called for it. She wouldn’t be the first agent to be shot on a mission and she wouldn’t be the last. She had back up when she was down and, overall, everything went as well as he could have hoped for.
“Nope,” Deacon said. “Just surprised how angry you got.”
“Yeah, it’s just….its seems like so many people are treating other people like they don’t matter. Like only people just like them are people and the rest are just…expendable. VaultTec did it, the Brotherhood does it, the Institute does it, I guess all my anger just came out at once.”
Deacon laughed. “Happens to the best of us, Sunny. Just means you have a heart. You did good, we just need to work on keeping a cool head for next time.”
“Really?” she brightened. “Does that mean you won’t tell Codsworth and Mr. Preston I got myself shot?”
“Oh, no. I’m definitely telling them.”
Sunny’s face immediately fell in fear. “Come on!”
“No dice, kid. You got to face the consequences of your actions.”
“Ugh. Can you at least omit the part where I swore? I think Codsworth will be more mad about that than anything.”