So, this is sort of a combination fic, to quell my Fallout 4 lust (yes I mean lust because jeez, have you played it?) and to hopefully jog some of my inspiration for You're Pretty Face Is Going To Hell back (And New Vegas: A Ghoul's Perspective, but its always been a side project so. . .)

But anyway, this is, like I said, possibly a combination fic and I will give disclaimers in the next chapter. And identities. So enjoy, review, fav and follow!

She's baking.

The house smells fantastic, like gently burnt pie crust and Nate's aftershave; it's more comforting than anything in the world to her.

She never bakes, but Shaun's first birthday is coming up soon and she wants to get recipes perfected for Mrs. Whitfield's block party she's throwing for the first baby in the neighborhood.

They. . .they adore him, Natalia couldn't wish for a better life. Surrounded by good friends, good food and the strong arms of a loving husband. She was living the dream, the perfect dream, complete with the perfect house and the perfect robot butler.

"Codsworth, can you set the timer for thirty minutes," she hums, pushing back a strand of jet black hair; it makes her look older, a blessing and a gift she had earned from her mother.

"Of course, ma'am," she hears his jets before she sees him, smiles softly to herself; yeah, her splurge on him was money well spent. "Ma'am, there seems to be something wrong."

Natalia furrows her brow and looks up from the oven dial, ready to scold his paranoia so she fails to notice the rust flaking off beneath her fingers.

Her mouth dries up at the sight of Codsworth, rusted and dented from bullets that had just barely missed. His sensors constrict and widen as he looks at her, the dying sun peeking through the missing paneling behind him. Her eyes flicker around his dented chassis, shuffling back a step or two, like if she stepped far enough away he would be shiny and polished all over again. His jet wouldn't sputter with every third or fourth whir when he struck out his blade because he has always complained of possibly having some pain in a metal limb. . .

"C-Codsworth," she shook her head, hand stretching out to touch him but. . .she retracted the hand and rubbed it tenderly around the wrist. "Codsworth, what happened to you?"

If he could have cocked his head, he would have, but instead he continued to float there. "Well, ma'am, I suppose over two hundred years of not receiving my polish causes for some rust, but if you are concerned about my missing arm, Sir Sturges is fixing the joint, got a bit of mongrel blood in the joints it would seem."

Her head was spinning already.

Natalia shook her head, rubbing her face with her hands. "Mongrel? What the -"

She dried up again when she saw her hands, no longer soft and smooth with those smattering of freckles over the crest of her thumb and forefinger. No, now her hands were smeared with oil like she has worked on the car that morning, her freckles scarred away with a burn.

She twisted her hands back and forth, watching the fingers shake the longer she stared. "O-Oh God," her eyes trailing up the leather of her arm, the bulky covering on her shoulder. "What am I wearing? What in the -" she paused, swallowing thickly and pushing Codsworth aside.

There was no door to push through, stumble through, but there was sunlight and that unevenness in the sidewalk she had never fixed, right there at the stoop. She cried out as her palms connected hard enough with the concrete to instantly bruise and draw blood, her eyes registering her hair not falling into her face - like it. . .like it always did. Her fingers grazed over the rough, cat like texture of the side of her head, the stub of a ponytail at the back of her head. What happened to her hair? It was her favorite thing about her, always had been, was the prettiest anyway.

Thick, long and wavy, the color as black as her own irises.

"Natalia?"

She screamed and whirled onto her back, her arm arching up and knocking into whoever it was that had grabbed her shoulder. It was a woman that landed on the ground beside Nova, sputtering out curses and wearing what was possibly a red flannel, but there was enough dirt and grime to mistake it for brown. She gave Natalia this bewildered look, like she were pissed off but also not, almost sympathetic; annoyed.

"Preston," the woman snapped at the wind, dusting off her thighs; like that would help. "She's doing her crap again!"

Natalia looked around, heart hammering loudly in her chest as she watched the silhouette approaching past the woman. His rifle glowed red and hummed, the leather of his suit crackling as he crouched down in front of her. Natalia stared into the mans face, air whistling between her teeth as the faint sound of claws clicking on concrete came to her.

"Look like shit, General," he started.

She furrowed her brow, confused and ready to ask what he was talking about, who he was, but there was a blinding flash in the distance and her entire world was engulfed in fire and smoke.

Natalia screamed.

"The Commonwealth. . .nice to finally see this place, I was tired of only getting the rumors," she mumbled, flicking her cigarette butt off to the side and into the brush. "Think we'll find her out here or is it just wishful thinking?"

"You know my response," his fingers flexed around the barrel of his gun; he jerked his chin as her insistent scratching at her neck. "Is it bothering you again?"

She immediately dropped her hand to the laser rifle she cradled so gently. "Its fine," she snapped, rolling her head on her shoulders. "Not like you can fix it or anything - lets find this Diamond City, think its that there in the distance?"

He looked up at the skyscrapers she pointed to, shrugging and following her down the incline she had started down. "I do not see where else the city could be, according to Harkness the city is quite large."

"And I thought D.C. was unsettled," she shook her head and looked around as they walked. "This place gives me the damn creeps. . .I wonder if Alex is gonna join us like he said."

"He is still in Vegas, Mistr -"

"What did I say about calling me that?"

"To not to," she glared at him sideways but gave up in favor of seeing him keep that smirk on his face. "I would like to keep an air of our original relationship whilst we are here, if you don't mind."

She shrugged. "I'm cool with that, but don't go completely mercenary on me, okay? I can't stand that shit anymore. But yeah, we don't need anyone thinking they can use us against each other. I doubt we're unexpected."

"You would be correct in that. I was. . .just be aware that they have eyes on us at the moment."

"Great," she grumbled. "Then lets give em a show, shall we?"

She wakes up with a familiar scream, one that rocks the neighborhood and has Dogmeat on edge and yapping, his claws clicking on the floor around the mat she had slept on that night. She's sitting up and panting, voice hoarse and she's clenching the fabric of her sleeping back like her life depends on it.

It kind of does.

The sun is barely peeking through the holes in the ceiling but Natalia doesn't care about the stinging in her retina from the assault - she's too busy scrambling for the crumbling crib beside her. Its paint flakes yet again beneath her hands, her nails digging into the wood; it crumbles beneath the grip, so old it could collapse any day now.

Still empty, still has the smell of baby powder after all these years and she clenches the fabric tight, holds it to her nose. It doesn't matter if there's mold and dust on it, she can still smell Shaun, deep down in the blanket and the mattress. Her baby, she would never forget that smell, never be able to have it wiped away. She had never known love until she looked down at that screaming, wriggling mess of droll and blood when the doctor had lifted him into her arms.

Natalia opens her eyes slowly, a lone tear trailing down the side of her face; she can't cry anymore.

She jumped when a cold nose pressed into her underarm, scowling at Dogmeat. He whined and hung his head, giving her a pair of sad eyes to kill for; Natalia only sighed. He worried more about her than she worried about herself, which was pretty sad all things considered.

They both jumped when there was a rasp of knuckles on the door, the front one thankfully, so Natalia had time to clear herself up a little on her way. She straightened the baggy, white wife beater she was wearing and had to grab her pants, but the rest didn't matter. It wasn't like it would be a stranger, most likely Mama or even Codsworth, maybe even Sturges - but it was Preston.

He gave her a concerned look but her scowl brought his attention back to her face. "Natalia," he started. "Was it a nightmare or was there actually something attacking you this time?"

"Nightmare," she mumbled, crossing her arms over her chest. "You didn't run here that fast because I screamed, you were already outside my door weren't you," he cleared his throat nervously and Nova hummed. "I figured, what do you want, Preston?"

He frowned deeply and cradled his rifle, all business again; Natalia was glad, she didn't like it when he tried to get personal with her. Two months and he had tried every which way to make her apart of the personal side of this community but she just wanted to be the maker, not the leader. He could lead, she would bring in supplies - that was the deal, and she was becoming unneeded in that department thanks to the expansions.

"Natalia, we all think you need to leave," she narrowed her eyes. "Not permanently, just for awhile. Your. . .episode are becoming more frequent, you're scaring some of the newcomers."

"This is my home," she snapped, a desperate whine behind it. "Are you really thinking of kicking me out of my own house?"

"We're not kicking you out, Natalia," Preston said with a firm tone. "Think of it as. . .a vacation. You just seem to get worse and worse every day, have you even made it to Diamond City? Have you tried to find your son at all?"

"Don't," she snapped. "Don't act like you care, he's not your child."

"But he's yours and here you are having night terrors and helping us fish. You need to leave - now, Natalia. Get your shit and get out of here. Don't make me come back," he paused at the edge of the sidewalk and gave her a sympathetic look. "I'm sorry, Natalia I really am but I'm not gonna watch you do this to yourself - or your kid."

"Eat me," she snapped, fists clenched at her sides.

Preston shook his head and started down the sidewalk, ignoring the looks Natalia couldn't from the women working on the crops. She slammed the door behind her, teeth clenched until pain shot through her gums; Dogmeat whined and shuffled in front of the couch. Natalia glared sideways at him but stomped towards the back of the house.

They wanted her gone, she would leave. She didn't want to be here anymore anyway, she didn't like this place - it wasn't home, would never be until she got Shaun back.

Fuck, Preston was right.

"I hate that man sometimes," she mumbled as she secured the strap of armor to her shoulder. "Especially when he's right."

She probably looked a sight in raider armor, her only distinction from them was the bright blue and yellow of her vault suit underneath the straps and twisted metal. She could take the power armor, but she didn't have any fusion cores and they weren't easy to come by so far North. So, half raider it was, and the musket she'd managed to put together last week. The parts were hard to find, but raiders didn't seem to favor lasers so she made another distinction so she wasn't fired at on sight.

"You ready boy," her voice still cracked from screaming, but Dogmeat didn't notice the difference. "I guess we won't be coming back here for awhile."

He let out a loud bark, tail wagging and Nova sighed, grabbing her musket and heading for the door. When she opened it this time, Codsworth was on the doorstep, making Natalia a little more than curious. He didn't like the house anymore, said he had spent far too long in its walls and in its bushes to be comfortable with it anymore. Which meant, very rarely, did he ever come to the house anymore, even when Natalia was inside.

"Will you be bringing the young sir home, ma'am?"

Natalia hesitated. "Yeah. . .yeah, I'm bringing him home when I go out this time," she paused. "I'm gonna be gone for a long time, Codsworth. Are you okay with that," did he know they were practically kicking her out?

His appendages spun in a circle, claw coming too close for comfort. "Why of course, it gives me more time to tidy up for the lads return. He shouldn't come home to a dirty crib."

Natalia smiles softly. "Right," she sighed. "Then take care of the house while we're gone, Dogmeat won't be here to chew on ya this time."

"Hmph, well that is marvelous news. I wish you and. . .him as much luck as I can muster, yes?"

Natalia actually chuckled at that, patting his chassis with a gloved hand. "Thanks, buddy," she mumbled. "I'll try to be back as soon as possible."

"Oh take your time, ma'am, I am sure you will need as much as you can get to do what you must to get the young lad back."

Natalia hummed, narrowing her eyes slightly but not at Codsworth, at the sky line. "Whatever I must. . ."