The American Dream is a spacious suburban home with a white picket fence, a two-car garage, and a well-maintained lawn. It includes a stable job with career opportunities, financial security and the ability to enjoy vacations and a comfortable retirement. Additionally, it includes a happy family with healthy children and etc.

They all live as if everything is fine, ignoring the bomb shelters appearing in their backyards. And the big corporation⎯Big MT, RobCo and Vault-Tec⎯are openly preparing for a potential nuclear war by building future Vaults. It's like folks turn a blind eye to the danger right in front of them.

And Cooper turns a blind eye to the horrors he encounters during his military career. After all, he's already fulfilled his duty to the Homeland and earned an honorable discharge.

So, he dives headfirst into the world of acting. It's a fresh start, a chance to pursue dreams beyond the battlefield, where success is measured by applause and camera flashes rather than medals and commendations. What else does he dream about?

About the child.

His arm wrap around your waist as you stand at the stove, the smell of roasting asparagus and cherry tomatoes filling the kitchen. Cooper smiles slyly and teases, “I said get some rest, but you're such a badgirl, huh?” Then his other hand lands on your growing belly, the promise of new life just beginning to show.

He cares so much about you, not wanting you to stress out because of him again. Cooper reaches for the radio on the crisp white kitchen cabinet and turns it on, still keeping his arms wrapped around you. The spacious kitchen is bathed in the soft glow of morning light filtering through the windows as the gentle notes of Doris Day's ‘It's Been a Long, Long Time’ fill the room, creating a soothing atmosphere.

“C'mon, sweetheart,” Cooper slowly purrs, grinning and playfully dragging you toward the open space in the kitchen. “Breakfast's not goin' anywhere.” He leads you into a spontaneous dance, holding you close and planting kisses on your cheek.