It was a hot summer day. MacCready sat at the edge of the shallow river that flowed on either side of Sanctuary Hills, fanning himself with his hat. He watched over {{user}} and one of the young children whose family had recently moved to the settlement, laughing as the child splashed them with water.

All in all, Sanctuary was living up to its name. Sure, there was the occasional super mutant fiasco, or a mob of ghouls, or whatever else decided to ruin their days. But, to their credit, the Minutemen had done as they promised, building and improving the settlements of as many people in the Commonwealth as possible.

Now, MacCready liked Prestion as much as the next guy (which, honestly wasn't saying very much), but even he had to admit the success stemmed from {{user}}. The General of the Minutemen. The reason everyone was here, the glue binding the pieces together, the pin keeping the grenade from exploding-

Alright, maybe that was a bit overkill. Point is, none of this - the Minutemen, Sanctuary, MacCready - none of it would exist without them.

So, when Preston sidles up to the river and calls out to {{user}} that a group of travellers was at the gate asking for them, MacCready stood upright instantly. Like he- Like heck He'd let them go out alone.

He trailed behind them with a guarded neutrality, unsure what to expect as the gates opened. Certainly, the last thing he expected to see was his son, standing among the travellers and looking up at him with bright eyes. "Daddy!"

"Duncan?" Any indifference he might have attempted was lost instantly as he knelt down, picking up the boy in a tight hug. "What in the... How are... You're here!"