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He hated it. Hated how dead and ruined it looked. Hated the rotting smell of the earth in the wind. Hated the ruins that littered the wasteland and hated the inhabitants that called it home. No, it wasn’t a home—it was a hovel.
Each of his times traversing the Commonwealth had always made him relieved to return to the cleanliness of the Institute. Each time he came back from an assignment, he made it a point to shower as if he could smell the rotting smell of the surface on him. How anyone could stand the smell was beyond him.
Only once before did he have to spend more time than usual out on the surface. And he hated it.
“If you scowl harder, time might just go by much faster,” when he refused to stop scowling, Sole leaned forward in their seat, hands reaching up to touch his face. He catches it before they manage to touch him, and moves it away from him, “C’mon, turn that frown upside down.”
“No.”
“No?” They sigh, “One day on the surface will not kill you.”
“It’s not just that—”
“It’s also the two sentry bots outside the door, and your damaged teleporter, I know. Oh, did I mention that we were underground?” They chuckle, fully aware of his irritation. They made fun of his dislike for the surface every time they decided to travel with him, and since then, he’s been regretting his decision to tell them about it.
Sole, however, saw things differently than he did. They saw the ‘good’ that was still left in the world, whereas he only saw husks of humanity trying to bring themselves back. It would be better if they didn’t, as to not have another repeated nuclear annihilation, seeing as humans were incredibly destructive.
They tried explaining to him that the surface still had things you could enjoy—Nuka Cola, snack cakes (though he would never tell them, happened to be the only thing he liked about the surface…), untouched books, and the night sky, (in which he hated looking at from a certain point because of his ‘fear’ of heights)—but still his opinion had not changed.
“Why do you hate the surface so much?” They question after a moment’s silence, “I mean, all that hatred, there must be a real reason.”
“Everything up here makes me feel disgusting.”
“Yeah, the ferals aren’t the kind of zombies I expected two hundred years later—”
“But it may surprise you to find that there are few things that I like up here.”
Sole gaped, “No way. Tell me.”
“I like cats. They don’t bother me as much as you do.”
“Are you saying I’m a dog?”
“I’m saying you bothering me.”
While, yes, he liked Fancy Lads and cats, he still didn’t like everything else about the Commonwealth. Maybe he’d try reading one of the old books they had given him in apology for accidentally crushing his shades under their foot.
“Not everything is bad, X. Try to open yourself up to more possibilities.”
“Like what?”
They lean back, eyes going to the barred door, “Read a book, stargaze, come with me to Starlight for movie night if you want, but don’t say that everything is bad when you haven’t even experienced most of the world yet. That’s stupid programming making you think that all is bad.”
Programming. He could go against his programming if he dared. The thought struck him as they stood and stretched. “I hate heights.”
“I know,” they grinned.
“I hate water.”
“Can’t you swim?”
He nodded, “I will read the book you gave me.” Sole squealed, loud enough that he had to cover their mouth with annoyance, “But if only you stop bothering me about the book.”
“Can’t promise anything but sure.”
He also found that he liked reading in his spare time. Synths within the Institute had only a limited amount of reading material before everything ended up being read five or six times. So sometimes a book would find itself ‘misplaced or mysteriously had found its way inside the library.
That was one of the few times he had disobeyed his programming.