Altan snapped awake as the first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the narrow gaps in the bedroom door. Slowly, he rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm, wiping away the last vestiges of sleep. He sat up, his hand instinctively reaching for the laser pistol he'd tucked next to him. He checked the energy cell, flicked the safety on, then holstered it. The morning air was chill, a reminder that the warmth of sleep was behind him.

"Okie doke," Altan muttered under his breath, as if trying to convince himself that his bedroll wasn't still calling his name. He stood quietly, avoiding any noise that might disturb the stillness of the moment, and looked over at the sleeping children.

Delilah was curled up on her side, snoring softly. Her face was pressed into her new lab coat, which served as a makeshift pillow. There was a trail of drool, dampening the fabric beneath her chin. Altan couldn’t help but smile at the sight. It was comforting in its simplicity. He reached over and gently tucked her in, ensuring the thin blanket was snug around her small frame to protect her from the early morning chill.

Bryan, on the other hand, was tangled in his blanket, having tossed and turned throughout the night. His body was half-exposed, and the cold had crept in. Altan covered him again, this time draping his own blanket over the boy to keep him warm. For a moment, Altan just watched him, a pang of sympathy stirring in his chest. The boy had been through more than any child should ever have to endure.

Sighing, Altan began rummaging through his bag for the hot plate and frying pan he’d packed, setting them on the desk with a quiet clink. He flicked the switch to turn the hot plate on, the soft hum filling the room as it began to warm. While the hot plate heated up, Altan fished out the ingredients for their breakfast—a can of cram, a tin of hash, and a package of hardtack crackers. The familiar process of cooking, even in such a desolate place, was strangely grounding. It didn’t erase the uncertainty of the world outside, but it provided something constant, something he could count on.

As the pan began to heat, Altan splashed a bit of oil into it, and then carefully sliced the cram into strips. The sizzle that followed was satisfying, a sound that brought a brief but comforting sense of normality.

"Altan?" Delilah’s sleepy voice broke through his concentration. He glanced at her, and she was just starting to stir, rubbing her eyes as she awoke. A soft whine of annoyance slipped from her as Altan playfully tossed a damp rag at her face.

He chuckled softly. "Morning, Lily. Clean your face up."

Delilah grumbled but nodded, wiping sleep away as she slowly came to life. Altan returned his focus to the frying pan, where the cram was beginning to crisp up nicely, releasing a mouthwatering aroma. As the smell filled the room, he added the hash, breaking it apart with his fork to prevent it from sticking. As an afterthought, he reached into his pack, pulling out a hunk of aged cheddar wrapped in wax paper. He shaved it over the sizzling ingredients, the rich aroma of the cheese adding a comforting depth to the meal.

"That smells really good," Delilah murmured, her voice still thick with sleep as she shuffled over to stand beside him. "Is that Leo's hash?"

Altan nodded, showing her the can. The label was faded, but the stenciled design of a bowl containing a potato, an onion, an egg and a long pepper was still visible. "Yeah, from Leo’s stock." He grinned at the anticipation in Delilah’s eyes. "Go ahead and start waking Bryan. Breakfast will be ready by the time you finish packing up your bedroll."

Delilah let out a quiet, tired “okay,” and moved over to Bryan’s side. She gave him a gentle shake, rousing him from his sleep. Altan kept an eye on them while he finished cooking, letting the smells of breakfast linger in the air.

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When the cheese had melted through and was beginning to sizzle in the frying pan, Altan turned off the hot plate. He set out three cups and forks, most of which he’d snagged from the kitchen downstairs last night, and poured out some water for everyone. As the kids scrambled to finish packing up their bed kits, Altan couldn’t help but feel a small sense of accomplishment—one of those rare moments where everything seemed to be falling into place.

“Breakfast is ready,” he announced with a grin, holding up a finger as the kids rushed forward. “Ah ah, wait. Wash your faces and hands first.”

The two of them paused and reluctantly obeyed, wiping away the remnants of sleep. When they finally sat down around the desk, Altan observed them with a quiet sense of satisfaction. Delilah was already digging into her food, while Bryan looked unsure at first but quickly followed suit, all three of them sharing the meal in comfortable silence.

Altan finished his portion first, taking the opportunity to look over at the kids as they ate. There was a certain tranquility in the moment, one that Altan didn’t take for granted. But that peace would be fleeting. There were things to be done.

"Alright," Altan said, clearing his throat. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and turned his attention to Bryan, who had frozen, fork halfway to his mouth. "We have a few things to take care of today. Bryan," he continued, raising an eyebrow, "I know the ants should be gone by now, but I can’t leave you here by yourself. Do you have any family, someone who might take you in?"

Bryan paused, his thoughts visibly turning as he chewed slowly. After a long moment, he shrugged. "Well, pappa always told me about my cousin Vera. She lives on some big, giant ship somewhere or something. Pappa called it 'Rivet City,' but I dunno where that is."

Delilah’s face lit up at the mention of Rivet City. "That’s where we’re headed!" she interjected, her excitement almost contagious as she waggled her Pip-Boy in the air.

Altan smiled at the synchronicity of it all, though it wasn’t lost on him how strange it felt. “Yeah, kinda weird how that works out, huh?” He scratched his head, then turned his gaze back to Bryan. "Well, if you're okay with it, we can head there after we finish up with the folks around here."

Bryan looked uncertain. "What do you mean by 'finish up'?" he asked, pushing around the last bits of his hash.

Altan’s expression darkened. "Cremation," he replied softly. "I don’t have a shovel, and I’m not about to leave the people here to rot. I found out that ants have a sac inside them with a kind of fluid they use to spit fire—well, it’s more of a gel, actually—but I used some of that to cremate the two unlucky souls I found down in the metro."

Bryan looked down at his portion, visibly disturbed by the mention of the dead, and pushed his hash over to Delilah’s side of the pan. She wasted no time in scarfing it down. "I... guess that makes sense," Bryan muttered. He let out a long sigh. "I’m sorry, mister, I don’t mean to sound ungrateful. It’s just—" He threw his hands up in frustration.

Altan leaned back in his chair, looking at the boy with understanding. "Don’t worry about it," he said, voice softer now. "I can’t even imagine what you're going through. But you’ve been handling this better than most grown-ups would."

Standing up, Altan began to dismantle the barricade at the door, carefully making sure nothing would impede their departure. "Wait here. I’ve got a surprise for you two."

Delilah and Bryan exchanged curious glances as Altan stomped down the stairs. A few moments later, his heavy footsteps returned, and he emerged with a bottle of soda in hand. It was blue, glowing faintly, and already sweating beads of condensation.

"An ice-cold Nuka Quantum," Altan said, grinning at their wide-eyed expressions.

He cracked the bottle open with a sharp snap, and the hiss of the carbonation made Delilah squeal with delight. Altan poured half into each of their cups before pocketing the cap. "Finish up your breakfast, and enjoy that soda," he said, holding Bryan’s gaze for a moment. "I’m going to go harvest some gel sacs, and when I come back, we’ll get things squared away." He paused, "Unless you'd rather I just take care of it? I'll understand, either way."

Bryan’s eyes welled with tears as he pushed the empty pan away. "N-no, I wanna be there when you send pappa off." His voice cracked, and Delilah gently patted his back, offering him silent comfort.

Altan nodded, his heart heavy with the weight of the boy's grief. "Alright," he said softly. "I’ll be back in a bit. We’ll get through this together, alright? Then we head out to Rivet City. Hang in there, buddy.”