“I…I realize this is an upsetting discovery, but I am alive, am I not?” Shaun tried to offer some form of comfort, gently laying a hand on one of Lucas’ trembling shoulders. Shaun panicked, striding over to crouch next to his father, hands hovering uselessly over Lucas’ shoulders. “You…you get it from me…And I got it from my grandmother…” Lucas just stared at Shaun, tears rolling down his face, and he collapsed to his knees, burying his face in his hands and weeping. I’ve never liked my nose.” Shaun replied mildly, examining his father’s face and finding it to be true, he did inherit his father’s rather large aquiline nose. “You have my eyes,” Lucas stifled a sob, “And my nose. How did you know the child wasn’t your son?” Shaun couldn’t help but ask, tilting his head, his hands clasped behind his back.

“I…I was asleep for longer then ten years, wasn’t I…” Lucas hiccuped, staring at Shaun with a broken expression, one hand rising to cover his mouth. “Hello.” Shaun said softly, wary of the tears that dripped down Lucas’ face. Lucas Holmes, General of the Minutemen, stared back at Shaun, his emerald eyes widening, and then, to Shaun’s surprise, they began to fill with tears. Standing, he walked slowly through the door, entering the room, and meeting his father’s eyes. Shaun was bewildered, the child was an almost perfect recreation of what he had looked like at ten years old, how could his father tell? “…You’re not Shaun.” He heard his father say faintly, a heartbroken tone to his voice. Shaun smiled as he heard his father enter the room with the child synth, expecting to hear his voice. Would he be proud of Shaun? Would he understand the cold, harsh truth that he had slept longer than he thought? He could hear his father’s footsteps, and it filled him with anticipation.įinally, he would meet his father in the flesh.

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