Nick felt the deep rumbles from the earth, just as everyone across the Commonwealth did, when the Institute was destroyed and brought to its knees. Didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out who the executioner of the boogeyman was, not after watching the Survivor of Vault 111 leave his office just a few short weeks ago with a freezing fire behind her eyes and a determined frown lining her mouth.

After finding Dr. Virgil in the Glowing Sea, the Survivor opted to leave Nick in Diamond City in exchange for Deacon as the Main Objective drew closer and closer by the day.

Nick did not hold it against her when she asked if he could stay in Diamond City, and she asked him again and again if it was okay, if their friendship would remain even if he didn't accompany her. He reassured her as often as she asked that they would always be alright; they had gone through too much together for their friendship to just fizzle, especially after what she did for him by bringing down Eddie Winter. He could recall every part of their conversation before she chose to leave-

"Don't worry about it, doll," he assured with a gentle murmur. "I'll be waiting for you right here when you get back and need some time to relax in Diamond City. Got some cases you can help me look over." His mouth turned up in a half-smile, like some secret shared between them.

Her thankful smile grew, her bright green eyes shining, and Nick opened his arms for her to close the space between them and slide into his structured embrace. The synth couldn't help but tighten his arms around her for one more moment before she slid away. She regarded the detective a little sadly, her gaze just slightly regretful.

Nick could only return her smile in kind, morphing his own worn face so it reflected some sort of hopeful expression. It seemed to win her over, because after a moment of deliberation, the Sole Survivor of Vault 111 slipped through the door and into the uncertain.

That was about two months past.

After two weeks of not seeing her, the Institute fell, and the fate of the Commonwealth shifted.

Nick released a heavy, albeit fake sigh (as he did not need to breathe), and leaned forward onto his desk. His elbows held his weight as he pressed them against the wood, and his fingers joined together to form a steeple that barely brushed his synthetic lips.

The creak of the office door diverted Nick's attention elsewhere, and he turned in anticipation of a new customer. He couldn't help but look forward to another case. Maybe one with a runaway that would let him take a walk in the Commonwealth and see some of the sights. He needed some kind of distraction from this incessant worrying.

Of course, traveling alone had lost some of it's appeal since – since –

Nick shook his head of such thoughts filled with worry – where was she, where was she, WHERE WAS SHE?! – and instead pulled himself valiantly into the mindset of neutral synth detective, one who wasn't affected by such things as the Institute or worrying over absent partners.

All hopes of attaining that blissful, numbing mindset disappeared like morning mist in the sunlight as none other than the mayor of Goodneighbor himself, John Hancock, slid through the doorway and into the office.

Nick might have fallen out of his chair if he didn't immediately grab for his desk with one hand. "Hancock?" he gasped, staring as his hairless brows raised in shock. He regarded the mayor with a skeptical gaze, taking in the ghoul's twitchy movements and anxious tapping of his fingers against his thigh. "Not that I ain't pleased to see an old friend, but what would the infamous Mayor of Goodneighbor want with a synth detective?"

"Where is she, Valentine?" was all Hancock answered with. Nick glanced up at the ghoul beneath his fedora, stilled by the stiff and cold response from the mayor. He was upset, and though his question was vague, Nick had a sneaking suspicion he knew exactly who Hancock was asking about. Wanting to put off an air of confidence, he dug into his pocket for a cigarette and a lighter.

"Who?" he quizzed in an attempt to verify, but honestly, who else would Hancock be asking about but Nora?

Practiced fingers pulled a cig from the packet and flipped the switch on the lighter a few times so it sparked to life. The flickering flame danced as Nick brought it to the butt of the cigarette, cupping a free hand around the lighter to shield it until the fire caught. The synth detective could almost feel the annoyance from the ghoul as it crackled and bristled through the air like static electricity. Nick breathed in a puff of the hot nicotine and tilted his head back to regard the mayor calmly.

"Who?!" the ghoul snarled, his fists clenched at his side. "Who do you think?! Nora! Where is she? She hasn't been to Goodneighbor in weeks, and she – she-" The fight all but fled out of Hancock in one breath, and his shoulders lost their tension as he looked at Nick with an expression pretty close to hopeless desperation. His voice fell so it was as soft as falling ash, "Nora, she – she always stops by Goodneighbor every few days, even just to trade some supplies. Always." Nick could hear the tearful choke in Hancock's voice. It wavered uncertainly as the ghoul opened and closed his fists at his side, and he looked away. "Haven't heard anything from her in weeks, Nick. If anyone would know where she is, it'd be you."

Nick released a tense breath of air, and the smoke spilled from his synthetic lungs in one cool breath. "Guess again, Mayor," and he saw Hancock's face fall, "I'm in the same boat as you. Haven't seen her since before the Institute fell. Haven't heard word of her coming in or out of the city, either."

Hancock started shaking. Nick's optics narrowed as his brows lifted higher up his forehead. "What?!" the mayor exclaimed, his voice close to a roar, "No-no, she has to have been here. How- how could- where is she?! She wouldn't have- when the Institute-" Hancock swallowed, and the mayor dared to voice the fear that had plagued Nick's mind ever since the explosion. "You don't think she's . . . dead, do you?"

At Hancock's question, Nick flinched, and ducked his head down. "No," he mumbled around his cigarette, refusing to believe such a thing. There was no way she could be dead. He would have felt something if she was; the world would have felt different, it would have changed with her light gone.

Hancock didn't seem entirely comforted by Nick's answer, and he shifted nervously where he stood in the door. His breathing picked up like he was going to panic, and then his hairless brows knit together in a frown that might be determination. "Well . . . if you don't know where she is, then who would? We've gotta go after her. Would maybe that one gal know where she is? Y'know, the reporter?"

"Piper?" Nick looked up again from beneath his fedora, then over to Ellie. The secretary shook her head at him, pen in hand as she scribbled down the majority of the conversation, as was her job to record all the happenings-on of the office. At her denial, Nick turned his gaze back to the mayor. "Not likely. She's working on her next big story since the fall of the Institute. Besides," Nick took another deep inhale from his cigarette, then let it out from slightly pursed lips. "I don't think she's been out with Nora since before Kellogg, even." A sidelong glance to Ellie prompted her to nod in agreement with him.

The mayor only deepened his frown, and his lips turned down, displeased. "Well, who then? Someone's gotta have an idea of where she is. She took someone with her to get rid of the Institute. And we know it wasn't the Brotherhood." All parties paused for a moment, thinking about the fiery inferno that was the remains of the Prydwen. Hancock picked up the silence with a drawn out, "So. . . who did she take with her?"

For Nick, the answer seemed obvious after thinking about who Nora joined with. He knew her well, well enough to know that she probably agonized over the choice when push came to shove, that she would choose the path that saved the most lives . . . but one that also came with a terrible cost by destroying the Brotherhood.

Nick sighed. "There's only one person I can think of that might possibly know where she is," and he stood to his feet, "but you're not going to like it," he acknowledged. The detective moved around the office, grabbing things he might need while Ellie snagged some extra supplies Nick might forget.

Hancock didn't seem to catch Nick's drift, because his face scrunched up in thought, his already wrinkled nose managing to wrinkle more. "What? Who?" he asked, unsure.

Adjusting the worn fedora over his head, Nick tightened the belt through his trench coat and started towards the door.

"Deacon."

Hancock's face immediately fell into one of exasperation, and his rough voice released a single groan.

"Knew I should have packed some Jet to take with me."

thanks for reading part 1! there will be either 3 or 2 chapters; the whole thing is written out. the next chapter will be uploaded tomorrow morning! :)