#they also knew each other before both of them turned into mutants / ghouls so that helps

[snapitkeeper]

Could two creatures of the waste really fall in love

[mxvladdy]

More than just a flirt

John Hancock X OC

Hi hi! My smut hand be rusty but nothing like completely self indulgent OC smut to bring me back :)

So I’m still new to tagging and the like but my Fallout 4 OC is GN but I do insinuate female genitals. Soooo ye *finger guns* 

If ya read it I hope a like it! 

John was a flirt; that’s all he ever could be. He was charming. He was witty. He was an adventure covered in an oversized trench coat. What bed partners he had came for one thing. The experience. The ability to boast loudly about fuckin’ a ghoul. Like it was a damn badge of honor. His whole life had been a stream of one night stands, and cold beds. That's all he ever could be. That’s all he ever would be.

So then why did he wake up so warm?

Cracking an eye open John reached behind him searching blindly for what was heating his back. His burned fingers were a complete contrast to the soft flesh that greeted him. Slowly, he traces down it, following the flow of the dark muscular till he is holding on to an arm wrapped around his middle.

“Morin’.” His bed partner huffs in his ear. Chestnut curls tickle his cheek as they hug him closer. Whiskey and melon sweet breath bringing back memories of their lips against his. Last night clicks in place. Ophelia. John rose quickly as if burned. This was wrong, they are a friend. A good friend, a trustworthy hardworking leader. They deserved better than-than…

“John?” Ophelia rose uncaring of how the blankets slipped from their arms. Old fabric pooling around their bare waist. They rub at their eyes wearily. “You ok?”

He froze at the edge of the mattress. Long fingers reaching for his pants on a very recognizable floor. He was in Ophelia’s room; or rather this was their hotel room. Damn. He couldn't remember a thing from last night. What did he take? Fuck. He could kick himself. Of all the one-nighters, he wanted to at least remember this one. “Ye doll, sorry...just didn't wanna wake ya.” He smiles, covering his momentary panic.

Ophelia frowned, sleepy hazel eyes narrowing into a familiar piercing glaze. They size him up. Reading him better than anyone ever had before. John couldn’t help but squirm. They looked at him just like when they had first met. Strong jaw tense and their chin high, silently calling out his bullshit.

“I'm fine, honest. Didn't expect to see you is all.” Hancock tried again tugging on his pants.

“In my own room?” His friend snorts, rising to go open the curtains. “Where else would I be?”

John is silent. “I don’t know. Not here-with me.” He keeps his back turned. It was stupid to linger. The warm tingling of their soft body seeps down into the floorboards leaving him aching and cold. Staring at his irradiated hands he could almost cry. Almost- his tear ducts had been scarred shut years ago.  

“John?” Ophelia comes within arms reach. He could sense their hand hovering close to his own boney shoulder. They drop it moments later. “You sure you’re ok? You coming down from a bad trip or somethin’?” John chuckles humorlessly. Was he that predictable? Stepping away from them he finishes dressing.  

“Ye sunshine. Don’t worry about it. Ain’t my first time and sure as hell won’t be my last.” He tosses out over his shoulder. “I’ll give ya a minute ta get ready and meet you out front.”

If Ophelia had anything to say after that they kept between their pretty little lips.

“I think we should head for shelter.” Ophelia says, looking up from the fallen mutant. Their arms filled with loot. John follows their gaze. His black eyes reflect the eerie shade of green growing in the sky. Rad storm. Looked like a big one too. He lights a cigarette and sticks it between his grimy teeth before helping collect a few more useful items.

“Closest place is probably that supermarket couple o’ klicks back.” He jabs a thumb over his shoulder. If they hoof it they could probably get there and pick off any ferals before the worst of the storm hit. Ophelia sighs, John knew how much they hated backtracking. The decision was made for them when their pip-boy starts clicking in warning.

“Well-” They frown, throwing a glance back at the ghoul. “You alright with taking two steps forward and ten steps back?” John laughs, tipping his tricorn up to flash them a quick wink.

“Shit doll- You just summed up my life in a sentence.” Offering a hand he helps the sharpshooter over some loose rubble. “You keep an eye out K? I know you’re low on ammo so I’ll take point.” Ophelia nods. Their sniper rifle slung uselessly across their back. Readying his shotgun John follows behind.

The storm hit just when he had expected. Dropping rain and hunks of debris on the two as they struggle to close the supermarket doors against the high winds. Thanks to their combined dumb luck the place was empty. The sentry bots long since destroyed and even a few tins of food were still scattered about the aisle. Ophelia left him to collect some and scout out any hidden lock boxes, leaving him to set up the sleeping bags and start a small fire. Cracking open a room-temperature beer he stares idly into the flicking flames. It grew steadily as he fed it bits of cardboard and kindling. The yellow glow touches his skin and starts to dry his drenched clothes. John contemplates his predicament while he waits for Ophelia to return. The memories of last night slowly start to come back to him in the silence. The tastes, and smells of washed sheets and sweating skin permeate his senses. Ophelia’s sweet mewls and gasps echo around in between his ears. Who gave them the right to make his name sound so sweet?

Shit-He knew he shouldn’t dwell on it. First rule of one-nighters is to live in the moment then walk away clean. But damn if he wasn’t the worst at following rules.

He relives it all the best he can, parts still blurring and blocked, like a scratch in a holotape. But he’ll take it. He’ll take the phantom feel of strong, sure fingers mapping his body. The ghost of a tongue slipping against his. Washing away the taste of mentats and cheap drinks. He can’t remember the last time he had felt so warm and wanted. Made the sudden distance he put between them hurt even more. Fuck him for getting greedy.

John flicks the butt of his cigarette into the roaring flames and searches for another. He grumbles in irritation as each pocket bears no fruit. “Here. I got some.” A familiar red and white box appears in his peripheral. Ophelia’s chipped yellow nail polish clashing with the old carton.

“Thanks, sunshine.” He rasps, taking the box. He can’t bear looking up for the crumbled container. The thought of making eye contact with them while his blood and brains were living in his trousers seemed unholy. Pulling out the least damaged cigarette of the lot he lights it with a practiced flick of his wrist. “Found anything good?”

They shrug, putting a few cans of beans and corn in the growing amount of embers around the fire pit to heat. “Some ammo and super glue. Also-” They grin, forcing him to look up. “Got you a present.” They pull a bottle out from behind their back to brandish it at him triumphantly. He stares. Not at the bottle, but at the way that little pull of muscle brightens up their whole face. That signature gapped tooth smile warming him better than the beer and firelight combined. He reaches numbly for the bottle. A Nuka-Cola Quantum, the chill of the bottle a welcomed surprise.

He and the rest of the crew had learned over the years not to reject a gift, no matter how valuable. MacCready nearly had a heart attack when he was gifted with a shiny new sniper rifle. That pretty little custom piece came with all the bells and whistles. Not to mention a few boxes of specialized ammo. John had zoned out when the other man started rambling rapid-fire over specs clutching the gun to him like a newborn. Each of the core companions got some good shit from time to time. He had some absolutely sinful blades and an old bottle of pre war bourbon tucked away in his office. Valentine had gotten some fantastic upgrades to his hardware and repairs to his offices. Hell- Curie got a whole bloody body.

Can’t beat these job perks.  

“What’s the occasion?” He pops the cap off with the blunt end of his pocket knife, taking a pull from the bottle. The rush of sugar and god knows what else damping his headache.

Ophelia shrugs from across the pit. Pulling off their worn boots to warm their feet by the fire. “I remember you said they perk you up after a particularly bad crash.” They pause, face closing down for a moment, before looking up in horror. “I would have thought- I mean. I- you-I hope I didn’t do anything last night that upset you. I know you were a bit buzzed and I was way past tipsy. But, if I stepped out of line you would tell me right ?” John looks at them beyond confused.

"What?" He asks dumbly.

" Is," Ophelia waves vaguely at the distance between them. Normally when they camped together they were thick as thieves. Joking and nudging at each other's shoulders. Others used to joke about them getting a room. Now it felt like a great chasm had opened between them. "all of this about last night."

"Oh. Nah. Don't gotta worry none doll." John shrugs. Best to rip the bandage off now then later. "It's in the past, best leave it there. " He lies. It burns his throat worse than jet, but he has to. If only to protect his crumbling pride. One day he'll believe his own words. Hopefully.

"Well I am worried. How 'bout we start over. What’s wrong?" Ophelia jabs.

John feels heat rise under his thick skin. Just pokin’ a fresh cut tonight huh..."Kinda hard to start over after having someone's dick down your throat." He tosses it out carelessly. A shit attempt to derail the coming train wreck. Ophelia doesn't even flinch.

"Well, it's a damn good thing we both know how flexible I am then.” They rebuttal smoothly. “So, I'll ask again. What’s. Wrong?" The ghoul shrinks under their heated look. He was never keen on being hit with these eyes. Meant another kinda storm was brewing.

John throws his hands up in frustration. Had they never heard the phrase 'read the room'. "What, ya never had a one nighter before?" He regrets it the second the words leave his lips. He'd never seen someone flinch from words before. "Look, doll, I ain't one for making things awkward. I know the rules so let's just forget it and move on."

Ophelia deflates. Their signature look that could pin a super mutant in fight extinguished just like that. John watches them mouth over his words slowly. Clearly hating the taste of them as much as he did. "Is- was that what you wanted out of it?" Ophelia sighs. They dig a hand through sweat tangled locks. The tight coils of their hair protesting the drag of their fingers. His own fingers itch watching them, remembering the feel of their hair wrapped around his hand as he pulled them in for a kiss.

"What did you want out of it?" He asks, feeling dumber than a radroach.

Ophelia mimics him, throwing their hands up with a short laugh. "John, I thought it was clear. I don't go sleeping around with my friends and colleagues for shits and giggles. Who do I always ask to join me on travels?"

“Dogmeat?” John jokes, the knot in his stomach loosening with hope. It's unimaginable really- and yet. Were they serious? The past couple of times out they had always come to him. Even when they would be at a strategic disadvantage for whatever crazy scheme they had brewing. Only time he wasn’t Ophelia’s top pick was when some Minutemen tasks needed to be done. Even then He could always expect them at his front door the moment their feet landed on safe ground. A bottle of liquor in hand and an unbelievable story to tell.

“Not funny.” They chastised him scooting until they were seated next to him, knees brushing. "My idea for this morning was to maybe get breakfast and a semi decent cup of coffee. But I guess this is fine." They scrunch their nose in distaste at the cans warming in the fire pit.

“Shit doll,” John reaches out, wrapping a wiry arm around their waist. “Can I make it up to you? For being such an ass?” They hum in jest covering his hand with their own. The kiss that follows was unlike anything that he expected. It was slow and sweet. So different from the fast pecks he would get with others he slept with. He deepens it greedily, not ready to part just yet.

“You’re lucky I find you attractive.” Ophelia whispers into his mouth tossing his tricorn to the side and straddling his narrow hips. “We are going to have a talk about all this. Just-later-much, much later. I need a repeat performance of last night now that we are both sober.”

John groans letting them push him down. “Damn-you got it. You got whatever you want if you mean it.” Ophelia scoffs, ridding themselves of their baggy jacket. John can’t help but marvel at how beautiful they were backlit by the roaring flames. The orange glow of the light wrapping around their dark skin much like he craved to do. The flicking of it lapping at their smooth skin. Flashes of last night coming back to him of his tongue traveling down the same areas. He would have to remap them.

“As if I could ever lie to your smart ass.” They scoff grinding down on the growing bulge hidden in his rough pants. “But you have been lying to me and yourself it seems.”

He grunts in acknowledgment eyeing the way their ass moves. “You are absolutely right.Fuck- how can I make it up to you?”

Ophelia smirks cupping his cheeks. Their eyes meet. Rich hazel meeting cold black. The moment digs dip under his tough hide. The raw emotions in their stare makes his throat dry. “Put that mouth to good use- hmm? I know it’s good for more than some self-depreciation.”  

Spurred by Ophelia’s words he flips their positions, placing the sniper down on his bedroll. John sinks lower, kissing and nipping at their hip bone. Mapping out all the sensitive parts of their body. His tongue tracing the silver little streaks on their belly. Ophelia’s stomach twitches at the feel of his warm breath on their stretch marks, cursing quietly as he finds their slick core. Their nails score his scalp, dragging a hiss of pleasure from his lips. He licks with gusto, taking full advantage of their isolated positions to make them scream.  

“John-” They mew clawing at his shoulders to pull him back up to their kiss swollen lips. He goes leaving a trail of kisses in his wake before giving them a surprisingly chaste kiss on their lips.

“You sure ‘bout this doll?” He didn’t know what would happen after this, but it felt so different compared to his other recurring bed partners. He did want to see them again. He wanted this relationship to bleed into every aspect of his life. If he could relive that morning wrapped in their arms till his brain was splattered out on some dusty alleyway then he would. Without question.

Ophelia nods, reading in between the lines of his multilayered question. If there was one power figure in this wasteland they trusted, it was him. Wrapping a strong leg around his strong waist they shimmy off their tactical pants. Their eyes lock onto his pants as if the ratty briefs offended them.  John chuckles and casually loosens the draw strings keeping his pants up. Ophelia takes it from there scooting the rough material down his legs. They pur, grasping his erection and stroking it. Their dexterous fingers play with his head drawing out a healthy bit of pre.

John sighs and rests his forehead on Ophelia’s brow breathing in their naturally clean scent. It reminded him of the rare times he could get freshly washed laundry mixed with the springtime. Shen the wild plants strong enough to brave this cruel world sprouted. He kisses them, nipping at their chin and collarbone while they drive him wild. “Doll, please.” He gasps, back arching into their touch. “You’re killin’ me ya know.” Ophelia chuckles returning a deep kiss.

“Good, consider it penance for thinking I couldn’t love you.”

John heaves, lost for breath as their words hit him. He pulls back floundering.  “You mean that?” He sees the rapid fire thoughts racing through their wide eyes. Shock that they let slip that dirty little secret, fear of what he would do, then a stark resolution.

“Of course.” Ophelia nods through their embarrassment. Their sharp cheeks beginning to warm under his gaze. They say it like it’s an obvious statement. Like he should have just known. In a way he did. He just couldn’t believe it.

John takes the initiative now.  Dragging Ophelia down to his scarred lips preening when he feels them sigh into it. Their tongue teasing his telling him point blank what they wanted. Grabbing onto their plush hips John grinds down on them, rubbing his stiff erection through the seam of their thighs and wet entrance. The moans that elicited from them made his radioactive blood boil with need. He had to have them again, last night was a dud. He would savoir this time.

Positioning themselves over John’s cock Ophelia shoots him a sultry wink before sinking down onto him slowly. “Oh fuck me.” He groans, dropping his head to his pillow. Their body was feverish around his, soft, pliant and so willing.

“That was my intention.” They grab onto his shoulders for support. Eyelids fluttering heavily. “If I’m not getting that across now, perhaps I should quit while I’m behind?” They joke as they ride him. Their hips move in slow tight circles. It’s enough to drive him wild.

John digs his fingers into the supple flesh of Ophelia’s hips. With any luck he’ll leave bruises. Excellent. Ophelia couldn’t stop John as he flipped their position. He pinned them roughly down on his sleeping bag. “Don’t worry Doll. You got your point across very well. Don’t need to go putting yourself out like that.”

“You’re one to ta-” John thrusts into them cutting off their snark. Taking  devilish delight in flustering them. Setting a fast pace he drives in deep revealing in their cries of pleasure. God damn- this was almost enough to make him wanna go sober. How did he ever think one night would be enough?

“Fuck! I don’t deserve you.” His hisses cutting through the wet slaps of skin on skin. Ophelia does nothing but groan. Neither of them last long. Much to John’s chagrin. He finishes with a choked shout, hips and stomach twitching as he spills himself on their thigh. Ophelia doesn’t fare much better. They bite hard at the rough skin of his neck, nails scoring his back with a perfect mixture of pleasure and pain while they came undone beneath him.

“Do you mean it?” He asks, cupping the back of Ophelia’s skull. They wrap an arm around his neck nuzzling close, draping their body across his.

“Ye- but if you talk down about yourself again I’ll have to feed you to a deathclaw.” John chuckles feeling his eyelids getting heavy. He wouldn’t put it past them.

[x688plsloveme]

How the companions get along with each other

Robo Trio: Ada, Codsworth, and Curie get along splendidly. They can all bond over serving someone that they love more than themselves. They were made to be in service to someone - but all three knew what it was like to end up living that person more than themselves. Codsworth and Curie like to reminisce about prewar times, excitedly telling Ada all about how gorgeous and serene everything was in comparison to their current lives. In turn, Ada gives them tips on how better to protect Sole and each other since the two were never made to fight.

Childhood (ish) Friends(ish): Hancock and Valentine are unlikely friends but the detective has known the ghoul since before he was one. What started as giving candy to the kid "brother" of McDonough turned into a friendship of back and forth bickering and looking out for the other. The combined sarcasm and sass to bigots is really A++

Dumbass Trio: Hancock, Deacon, and Cait. They're all reckless and dumb in their own ways. All also very chaotic. If there's a pranking spree going on, this is the group that is probably responsible. They're most likely to mess with people mid conversation. "Did you know that people born with extra toes are as strong as super mutants without looking like them?" "Really?????" "Of course, my scientist friend definitely told me"

Synth Squad! Self explanatory but this consists of X6, Valentine, Danse, and Curie. Deacon is also an honorary member even though no one is completely certain. Not all of these people get along, but they'll always come together to share their love of fancy lads snack cakes. Or to help Danse whenever it gets hard to even exist for him (x6 pretends he doesn't care but after so long with the marry band, he is now protective of all of them).

Children at Heart: Piper and MacCready enjoy a lot of the same things being as young as they are but also responsible for a child. They bond over comics, sweets, and love for their kid/sister. They enjoy a sense of adventure and will often go and help the residents of the Commonwealth in Sole's absence.

Dads™ Valentine, X6, and Longfellow become the dads of the group. The older synth took on the role from the start, already being fond of early members like Hancock and Piper. Longfellow pretty much adopted everyone on the spot. And after being away from the institute for awhile and coming to terms with the fact that he's allowed to have feelings, X6 becomes more and more like the dad friend - being protective and caring in a gruff way. Sole makes sure everyone does something for them on father's day, half out of genuineness and half because the look on X's face is both sweet and hilarious.

The Fighters: Danse, Cait, X6, Gage, and Preston are the brawn of the group. MacCready and Strong both get an honorary mention of course. They teach the others how to be more effective with a larger array of weapons. They'll often spar together to keep reflexes sharp. Strong is only honorary here because if they sparred with him, they'd lose their limbs.

✨Sunshine✨ Preston, Curie, and Codsworth of course. The most wholesome even though they've been through hell and back like everyone. Big moral support to everyone and the first pick when it comes to needing a shoulder to cry on. There's not a single person in their entire group that even slightly dislikes any of them.

Man's Best Friend: Of course Dogmeat gets his own category, he's the best boy. Likes pets and is very soft. Steals food but is cute so it's okay. 10/10 would entrust the fate of my son on a days old trail to him again

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Pining companions and sole getting stuck in a small cramped place to hide from some enemies maybe? Also with X6 if possible...? 👉👈 and I absolutely love your most recent companions react. Keep up the great work and stay safe!

(Thank you so much for the request and extra special thanks for the compliment, things like that are what keep me wanting to write 💖 hope you enjoy.)

Cait:

She was both super excited and super freaked out. That was a major problem for her, mainly because she wasn’t nearly as unnerved by the feral ghouls outside the shitty little fortress you assembled as she was scared of saying the wrong thing while you wait. She never has been the type to worry about such stupid things, but with you? That was a different story, ever since you proven yourself to her...and since she realized that you stopped becoming just friends and she started wanting something more.

So with that being said, she’d nervously tap her foot, bite her lip and take back-to-back swigs from her flask- sheepishly offering you some of her drink as well. Just anything to keep her mind off of how strongly she felt the urge to grab ahold of your pretty face and kiss you and tell you how crazy you drive her.

That probably wouldn’t be the best thing to do when your life was literally being threatened.

Curie:

Oh my, she was so excited. I mean..as excited as someone forced into hiding for their life could be..which was still pretty excited for her. She was well aware of the dangers beyond your tiny refuge but she couldn’t help but focus on the way that your hands brushed up against each other as you settled, a big smile on her lips and a small blush to pair.

She wasn’t quite sure why you had this kind of effect on her much less what the “effect” really was, but whatever the reason, it was intoxicating.

Danse:

At first he was completely fine, jumping out his suit of armor to use it as a barricade in case the super mutants just so happened to track the two of you back to your makeshift hiding space. However..when he climbed out of the steel contraption and realized just how small the room was, he began to panic all over again.

There wasn’t anywhere he could move without brushing up against you. It would’ve all been okay has you been literally anyone else, but you? Well you just had this terrible way of setting his flesh ablaze with a mere look, his nose and cheeks flushing bright red when you flashed a small cheeky smile.

“Well Paladin...think we should just wait it out this time. I call being the big spoon..”

And just like that, Danse thought he was going to faint.

Deacon:

More than anything deacon was scared. Not because it was you though, no, he was far too comfortable despite his little crush to be scared to hunker down with you. You were like his best friend after all...well he certainly hoped that one day you’d be a little more when the two of you were in a better place......literally.

As for now, he’d settle for whispering small jokes to distract you from the looming feeling of peril that took form as the pissed off institue synths lurking just beyond the safe refuge of the meager broom closet he pulled you inside.

Gage:

His primary objective was to make sure the stupid nuka-lurks wouldn’t bust through the doorway, his single hazel colored eye darting around the ridiculously small room in search of a way to fortify your surroundings.

He’d be damned if he let anything happen to you.

After your help putting up what little barricades you could make, he sighed, turning on his heels..only to completely brush up against you.

It was then the raider realized just how cramped your makeshift refuge was...he realized just how close the two of you were going to be for who knows how long.

While the thought made his heart hammer in chest, he couldn’t help the smug grin that tugged at the corners of his lips.

This should be interesting to say the least.

Hancock:

Had it not been for the inherent danger of the vastly outnumbering amount of raiders on the other side of the wall, he might’ve actually gotten to enjoy the close contact with you. Don’t get me wrong though, a piece of him was starting to feel all..strange.

By this point he was well aware of his feelings for you, just not on how to proceed with them..there wasn’t really ever a good time to confront you with it anyways. Besides, now certainly wasn’t either.

That still didn’t stop Hancock from doing a little victory dance internally. Hey, it might’ve not been ideal..but at least he was damn close to you right now.

He’ll take it.

Macready:

Be it his experience in little lamplight or the countless other “eventful” things he’d endured throughout his life, Mac wasn’t terribly phased.

Sure, the mere thought of being truly stuck, death literally around the corner was scary, but it was nothing compared to the rushing of blood in his ears. Had you been anyone else, he might’ve been more annoyed, willing to toss you out to whatever was trying to get the two of you and run but..no.

It was you. It was you that truly made him afraid now. A seemingly endless amount of time to spend with the one person he felt such intense feelings for after Lucy..so much time to fudge it up.

This was going to be a long night.

Maxson:

The close proximity didn’t even register with him at first. Instead his mind was more preoccupied with firstly, devising a way to get out with the two of you wholly intact and secondly, pondering just where he went wrong...also just what the hell was taking the backup he requested so long.

However when he tried to back away from the closet door, only to bump right into you he visibly froze.

Oh by steel, this was hell.

He had been in plenty of predicaments like this one before, but never in any of said experiences had the person he was with has the ability to make his speechless nor cause an unfamiliar fluttering in his stomach.

So...he’d remain rigid until finally the spinning barrel of a mini gun could be heard on the other side of the room’s barricaded steel door.

Nick:

He should’ve seen it coming. Thanks to him, the two of you were stuck, completely at the mercy of whatever higher power was watching over.

Since when did deathclaws inhabit old department stores??? It didn’t matter.

What mattered to him at this point was the soft lulling of you voice when you yawned through whatever witty remark you were going to shoot his way. If he had a true heart, it would’ve been hammering out of his chest at this point. As a matter of fact, it would’ve probably stopped altogether when you decided to take a long overdue nap- snuggled up in his trenchcoat.

What was he going to do with you?

Old Longfellow:

This wasn’t his first rodeo with this kind of predicament, so he wasn’t entirely bothered. An uncontrollable grin shaping his face as he watched you visibly pout, leaning up against the boarded up window as you eyed the only visible entry way- trying to block out the snarls of the feral ghoul hoards on the other side.

He couldn’t help but chuckle when you scoffed, rolling your eyes when the noises stopped.

Damn, you were cute.

Wait...what? Where did that come from?

Piper:

Luckily she had an ability to pretend nothing was wrong at all. It was one of the many perks of what her occupation and its experience does to a person. So, outwardly Piper would just snicker as she watched the Deathclaw outside frantically try to find where you ran off to- almost outwardly busting out laughing as the fearsome creature literally chased its own tail for a moment.

However on the inside she was practically jumping for joy. It was perhaps not the best way to get to spend some quality time with you but..eh, beggar’s can’t be choosers. She wouldn’t want anyone else to hide from death with anyways!

Preston:

It had crossed his mind to simply just jump out of the window a couple times. It wasn’t because you were just that insufferable, heavens, it was quite the opposite. He just couldn’t stand the way he couldn’t stop staring at your lips, the way he could hardly form a intelligible word and the way you just seemed to radiate beauty in a time where most would’ve been scared shitless.

How were you so unbothered? How did you manage to make him feel so out of control?

To make matters worse, the close proximity you shared only intensified the nervousness he felt. As though the thought of an angry mole rat pack eating him wasn’t enough...

He knew the reason, but..why?

Sturges:

This wasn’t exactly the first time this had happened to you and him..only this time was different in the sense that it was just you and him, the room was a whole hell of a lot smaller and finally, the first time..you didn’t make his heart flutter by just smiling at him.

Surprisingly he’d be pretty good at hiding his awkward internal feelings, instead choosing to focus on an escape plan.

However...this event did encourage him to finally find himself at your doorstep one night to confess the way he truly felt.

X6-88:

Life certainly has a way of surprising you, doesn’t it? X6 certainly thought so at this point. There was hardly ever a situation that he couldn’t shoot his way out of, even if there was, he would just relay the fuck out of there as soon as he could...and yet here he was. Stuck behind some old collapsed building while a behemoth aimlessly hunted the two of you down.

Although the structure was big, there was no telling how safe each room was so using better judgement, the two of you decided to stay in the one tiny interior room.

It was then that X6 really wished he could teleport at that time. He loved being in your company, he really did..but as of late? Well lately an unfamiliar, scary feeling took over his senses when you merely looked at him.

He was terrified. Now? He was absolutely horrified. There was no stopping the awkwardness he felt as he so desperately tried to look anywhere but those pretty eyes of your’s.

Wait, pretty? Oh no..what has taken ahold of him?

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part XXI

Lost

Trigger Warnings: canon language/violence/gun, drug and alcohol use. Sexual/mature content. Burning/fire.

Please Enjoy!

……

“AAAAARRRRGGGGHHHH!” Strong’s roar of outrage carried far across the swamps south of West Roxbury Station. He pounded the earth, ripped up trees and threw them away like javelins. “RRRRAAAHHHHAAARRR! COWARD GHOUL, FACE STRONG!”

Terrified of him, Radiance had slipped into a narrow crag and instructed her few remaining ferals to abandon any attempts to attack and flee. There were two glowing ones left in the group and so their light had been what led the super mutant away. For several hours he doggedly pursued them: at first through the many twists and turns of the almost completely dark, rough-hewn tunnels and then on and through to the straight, derelict tiles of the metro tube.

Initially he made no attempt to calm himself. Reveling in his fury, he tore apart the landscape and yelled at the sky. He knew what the plan was: if separated or unsuccessful he was to rendezvous at the Peabody safehouse. He found that he didn’t much care. It wasn’t Alpha’s plan. It wasn’t even Cait’s.

He liked when his alpha went berserk. Her shear power and ruthlessness thrilled him and made him proud. But, he also very much liked the pups that were a part of their pack. Duncan, Shaun, Nat and even Billy Peabody tickled memories of something he couldn’t quite recall and the thought of Wraith hurting any of them, was unacceptable. Finding Wraith didn’t matter so long as Radiance lived and he very much wanted to be the one to kill her.  Failure was also unacceptable, and having been around humans for long enough to gain a small sense of personal accountability, he was disappointed in himself.

Strong remembered MacCready telling him about the fight with the behemoth in the swamps around Murkwater, and decided that an epic battle of that nature would help improve his mood so he took up his hammer and slogged away south: looking for trouble.

……

……

Deacon fell up the basement stairs, bashing his shins and elbow in the process. His uncharacteristic clumsiness carried him through to the kitchen with a sharp countertop to the hip. He paused in the living room to take a couple of deep breaths before racing up the stairs to the room Hancock and MacCready were sleeping in.

He opened the door as quietly as possible before creeping to the bed. Hancock was furthest away and had his back to him. He was fully clothed apart from his hat and boots and was tucked into a fetal position. MacCready, on the other hand, was flat on his stomach, spread-eagle, shirtless, wearing pants and one sock. The young man’s face was tilted to the side, like a swimmer gaining air mid stroke. He had pushed his pillow onto the floor and was snoring and drooling directly onto the bed sheet.

Deacon picked up the pillow and raised it high above his head before swinging it down directly onto the sniper’s head, “WAKETHEFUCKUP!”

Both of them leaped to their feet with weapons at the ready. Hancock stood next to the bed and MacCready on top of it, “DEACON! Goddamnit! You gotta death wish?! You ASSHOLE!” Hancock hadn’t put his blade away when he came around to where Deacon was doubled over laughing. The ghoul dismissed the very satisfying image of stabbing him as soon as he noticed that the spy was also crying, “What? What the hell is going on?!”

MacCready was still standing on the bed, his fierce glare giving over to rapid blinking as he noticed the odd combination of emotion, “Is it Wraith? What’s…? Wraith?!”

“She said words at me!” Deacon nodded and pointed eagerly toward the basement, “To me. She said my…”

“Why is your hand bleeding?” MacCready saw the flash of crimson as Deacon gesticulated.

“Well, she uh, bit me too...”

“I keep telling everyone not to put their hands in the cage!” He scolded him as he pulled on a shirt and crammed his feet into his boots.

The three of them were loud enough to wake the whole household so there was a small amount of shoving when the group bottlenecked at the basement stairway. They thundered down the steps and crowded around Wraith’s cage. For her part she seemed to have once again lost all trace of sanity and was hissing and growling like a cornered alley cat.

“Deacon, if this is some sort of prank, it’s in very poor taste.”

“I swear, Danse. She said, ‘Deacon, don’t leave me’.”

“I told you I could be of help.” Infamy stepped from a shadow and lifted their hood to reveal a smug look on their luminescent face, “It’s just a matter of finding the cracks in the…”

Hancock didn’t let them finish. He seemed to fly across the room, and lifting the surprised glowing one up by his lapels, he pinned them to the foundation wall. When he spoke, his voice was a menacing growl and he punctuated his clipped words by slamming the other ghoul into the wall after each one, “You. Did. Not. Have. Permission.” He let them drop to the floor and he took a step back, flexing his hands.

“We never gave you the go-ahead.” Deacon felt he’d somehow been robbed, “Was that even her?” He was shaking as he advanced on them, “You put words in her mouth? DID YOU FUCK WITH HER MIND?!”

“That’s interesting, coming from you.” Danse’s comment was soft but it cut through the room like a knife.

“Later, son.” Hancock shot him a look that killed any rebuttal.

“You are all very excitable, aren’t you?” Atom’s Assassin pushed themselves up against the wall and into a sitting position, “Not very friendly. No, no. Hahaha!” They dipped their chin and held out their hands, palms up, “I meant no harm. I felt I needed to prove my worth. It’s a very nice cage you’ve made for her; very spacious. Much better than the one you brought her here in. Better than mine. Hahahahaha. Still a jail cell though, huh? How long do want to stand around her prison and watch her suffer? Wraith’s words are her own. It took a great deal just for that much. Quite the effort! You all should be thanking me.”  

“Thanking you?! Why, monsieur, you are the cause of all this! Had you not attacked Madame’s citizens she would have never had cause to learn to call feral ghouls. She would have never summoned this Radiance and none of this would have happened!”

“She didn’t summon her.” When all their eyes flashed to him, Deacon waved a hand and shook his head, “Off topic, don’t worry about it. Doesn’t matter.”

“What matters to me is how you got out of your cage.” Piper glared down at them.

“Locks are nothing to me, my dear.”

“I think we should let them try.” Preston was watching Wraith. His face twisted between grief and anger.

“Non, General. Not at least until Dr. Amari has come to give her assessment. As her physician, I will not permit this.”

“Oh, but how will you stop me, sweet child?”  

Curie lifted her chin slightly, her voice was as cold as the look in her eye, “I will have you shot if you dare.”

“Well, you are all very terrifying. Whatever happened to the Oath? Hippocrates is spinning in his tomb. Oh, nuts. This didn’t go very well, did it?” They started to rise but thought better of it in the face of seven pairs of glaring eyes, “As you wish. I won’t go poking around where I’m not invited. Do I have to go back to the cage?”

“It’s more than you deserve.” Danse was watching Wraith as she had decided to ignore the mob surrounding her and was remaking her blanket nest. He felt like crying, “Why should you be free when she isn’t?”

“Cage is up to you, but you’re livin’ in the shed until I say otherwise, you feel me?”

Infamy gave him a lecherous sneer, “I think I’d like to…”

As if it was choreographed, Deacon, Danse and MacCready, wearing identical expressions of grim resolution, unholstered their various sidearms and leveled them at Infamy.

“Fine! Fine. I know when I’m defeated. It is by Atom’s will, that I devour this slice of humble pie.”  With hands raised above their head, they crept up the stairs and out to the shack.  

Piper sat cross-legged on the floor next to the cage. She washed her face in her hands and groaned, “I’m so tired of them. I’m tired of hearing about them. I’m tired of their ghost-in-the-receiver voice...” She trailed off as one by one, four of the other six joined her on the floor. “I have so much work back-logged at home. And I don’t want to leave, but Shaun and Duncan are coming in soon, so I’m heading out in the morning.”

“Thanks for keeping a eye on my son, Pipes.”

She cast MacCready a sideways smile, “’Sokay. I like him better than you anyway.” Preston was to her left and she leaned over and set her head on his shoulder. She smiled again when he reciprocated, “When are you going back to the Castle?”

“Tomorrow. I’m making myself crazy watching her and we are having problems from the groups exiled out of Nuka World. The best I can do is to make sure everything she set up doesn’t come crashing down, just because she’s not here holding it up.”

“Literally.”  

Preston smiled at Hancock, “Yeah, literally. Did I ever tell you all about the time when she threw a refrigerator at a Deathclaw?”

“What?!”

“Incredible!”

“No way!”

“Why a refrigerator?”

As Preston settled in to his tail, Deacon, who had remained standing, quietly headed back up to the main level. He intended to follow Infamy out to the shack and rough them up for eavesdropping on his heart-to-heart with Wraith, but his plans were altered for him as the unmistakably heavy footsteps of Danse followed him up the stairs.

“Something you need, pal?”

Danse gestured to the small living room, “I would like to have a word with you, if I may.”

Inwardly, Deacon growled in frustration, “You have a specific word in mind? I’ve always liked ‘spatula’.”

Danse looked confused for a second, “Very amusing…” He sat in an armchair and waited for Deacon to sit on a sofa across from him. He cleared his throat, “We haven’t spoken frankly to each other…”

“Don’t take it personal; I’m not frank with anyone.” He refrained from eye contact and picked idly at the raised floral pattern on the couch’s arm.

God, this thing’s ugly…

“I’m referring to matters of a personal nature that you may have been a party to…”

“Oh, I don’t really go to parties.”

The effort it took to maintain his composure clearly showed on Danse’s face, “By God, man! Please! I’m asking you for information about my being a synth!”

Deacon immediately stood and turned to leave, “Sorry can’t help you.”

Danse reached out and caught the other man’s sleeve. He looked up at him with light brown eyes that were so lost it nearly brought a tear to Deacon’s eye, “Please.”

He sighed dramatically and pinched the bridge of his nose, “Okay, but not here. Leave a note for Curie then follow me to Quincy. I’ll be waiting in the church.”

……

Deacon paced around in the nave, waiting. It seemed to be taking longer than it should and the spy was beginning to think he’d been stood up. Or, that something else might have happened with Wraith. He decided to head back and almost ran face first into Danse.

“I apologize for the wait,” the large man shook a Minutemen pack above his head as he maneuvered around him, “I talked to Curie directly and she advised I bring us a ‘snack’. She probably thinks we’re both too thin.”

Deacon had to bite back a harsh comment as he felt an intense stab of envy at the look of tender love on Danse’s face, “Yeah, I might have over corrected on my weight-loss plan.” In truth the weeks of worry and hard travel had ate into his muscle mass, leaving him more wiry then when he was in the Commonwealth last, “There fruit leather in there?”

Danse smiled as he passed him a strip, “Naturally.”

Rather than bite into it right away, Deacon held it almost lovingly in his hand. When his vision blurred with tears he quickly turned away from the other man and shoved the whole piece in his mouth, chewing noisily, “Mmmpf. Moorph. Hmmm. Thish batch is pretty good; lots of mutfruit. MacCready make it?”

Danse chuckled, “If there is a specific joke in there, I’m not aware.”

“Hmm. You’ve more a capacity for a sense of humor then I remember.”

Danse rightened a table and pulling up a nearby chair gestured for Deacon to take the one across from him, “As I said earlier; you and I have never had a real conversation.” He took a large bite out of jerky and leveled a rather intense gaze at him as he chewed, “I’ve been told that it can be difficult to authenticate a great deal of the information you share.”

“That’s maybe the prettiest way anyone’s ever called me a liar, Danse. Thank you.”

“I’ve also been told that you have a tendency toward more factual discourse when you aren’t wearing your sunglasses.”

Deacon briefly covered his eyes then pulled them away as if he was playing peek-a-boo, “The eyes tell lies as much as the truth, just so you’re aware.”

“So, it’s just another way for you to keep people guessing?”

“How very perceptive of you.”

The two men stared at each other unflinchingly for several seconds before Danse sighed and reached back into the pack for more food, “Do you want jerky?”

“Why not? You only live once.” He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, “I have to tell you this is not how I thought this was going to go. I also don’t mind telling you that I’m actually pretty tired so…”

“Right, right. Of course.” Danse set his hands together then held them out toward the spy as if he was asking him to set information in them, “Do you remember me as M7-97?”

“No. I wasn’t your handler.”

Danse’s eyes flashed back and forth, searching Deacon’s pale blue eyes for any sign that he was lying, “Are you quite certain? I’ve come to understand that my appearance was most likely altered.”

“It most likely was, but I never forget the synths that I’ve personally helped. And before you ask; no I don’t know who your handler was, or even if they’re still alive. The Railroad has had a high turnover. Probably because groups like the Brotherhood keep blowing us the fuck up.” He hadn’t meant to envenomate his reply to that severity, but found that he didn’t regret it.

“Ut sementem feceris, ita metes.”

“Post hoc ergo propter hoc.” Deacon was not going to back down, “We didn’t have to be your enemy. That was Maxson’s choice.”

Visibly upset, it took several deep breaths before Danse trusted himself to speak, “I wasn’t present during the attack on the Railroad. I had already been exiled. And even more so, I will admit, I did not approve of every order Maxson gave…”

“But you still followed them.” In Deacon’s mind he relived the moment when the light in Glory’s eyes went out, “My friends are still dead.”

“As are Rhys and Ingram and a multitude of others…”

“Others who turned their back on you when they found out you weren’t human.”

Danse slammed his hands on the table and stood, “YES! CORRECT! THOSE OTHERS!” He closed his eyes and swallowed, “I will never be able to take back the things I’ve said and done. I can only not forget and work toward making better choices.” He sat back in his chair and glared at Deacon.

The words struck a chord in him and Deacon suddenly felt ashamed, “That is something I can understand.”

“If I had my memories of being a synth, I’d have never joined the Brotherhood and we’d not be having this argument.”

“That was your choice.”

Danse twitched his head and narrowed his eyes, “What do you mean by that?”

“When the Railroad frees a synth we give them the option of a full memory erasure and face change, in fact we very strongly suggest it, but we never do it without their expressed consent.”

“You’re saying that I asked to have my identity stolen? My very life was ended and I asked you to do it?!”

“I’m not going to debate the concept of Nature Verses Nurture with you, but yes, you would have had to agree. We’ve had a bunch over the years who opted out of both but unfortunately, most were recaptured by the SRB or killed by hatemongering wastelanders.”

Like the UP Deathclaws.

Danse sat back in his chair, his expressions morphing from disbelief to anger and sadness. When he spoke his voice was low, “Why didn’t you at least give me memories of a family?”

“I could speculate but…”

“I would appreciate any insight you can provide.”

“Okay,” Deacon stood and began pacing, “so first, let’s get one or two things out in the open.” As he spoke he tallied items off on his fingers, “You’re not ageing. Your physicality is above average and… you’re… um… shooting blanks.”

Danse groaned and set his face in his hands, “I don’t even want to know how you ascertained that.”

Deacon had the decency to make himself look abashed, “Yeah, let’s move on. In my humble opinion as an expert in these matters; you were most likely a courser. It wasn’t necessary for you to fit in with the population at large so those items previously listed weren’t included in your design. And when you were given new memories, they wouldn’t involve people whom you would have tried to go look for because that would make you more conspicuous. If that makes sense.”

“So, I never even had a chance to have a family.”

“What do you mean by that?” Deacon let an edge creep into his voice, “What about the family you have now?” When Danse gave him a bewildered look, he grew legitimately angry, “Curie, Wraith, Shaun, Duncan!” He shook a finger toward the safe house, “Preston and Piper. Not to mention your ever-angry little brother MacCready.” He brought his hands up to either side of his head, “Hancock! Oh my god! The scariest being in the entire fucking Commonwealth calls you ‘son’, and you ‘don’t have a family’?! Fucking shit, man!”

“You’re scared of Hancock?”

“Never said that.” Deacon came back to his chair and sagged into it. “’Self-determination is not a malfunction’.”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a quote from someone who could probably help you much better than I can. They were also a courser and were also upset when they found out their life wasn’t what they thought it was.”

“May I speak with them? Or, have they been… reset?”

Taking a bite of jerky, Deacon sat and thought out loud as he chewed, “Maybe only on the vaguest of terms. I could ask them to read a letter from you… have to be anonymous… would take some time… What information do you want?”

“I want to know what M7-97 was like… who they were. Anything you can offer me would be helpful.”

“Honestly, Danse I think it will only be helpful if this lets you move on from your past.” His voice grew soft and low, “We can’t always be living there.” He stood up and stretched, “Now, I need to shut down for a couple of hours…”

“I think I might need a beer… don’t you mean ‘sleep’?”

“Oh, I don’t actually do that.” He flashed Danse a shit-eating grin, “I’m a far superior model.”

……

……

There was some difficulty with moving the memory lounger to the basement and more still with its power supply, and so even after Dr. Amari’s arrival, it took several more days before they were able to try and scan Wraith’s mind. Curie’s tranquilizer was administered and she was carefully strapped in.

“Are the restraints really necessary?” Nick Valentine had arrived a few days before the doctor, and had been greatly distressed at seeing Wraith’s living arrangements. He frowned as Curie tightened the straps.

“They won’t hold her for more than a second anyway, Nicky.” Hancock was frowning as well and despite his words, he seemed unsure, “It’s to give us a chance to bail outta here if she decides to wake up early.”

“Would she really hurt us?” Valentine had been trying to convince himself that when she had rushed the cage bars when he tried to say “hello”, it was out of a response to fear and not wanton violence.

“She tried to kill me, Valentine.” MacCready’s voice was flat but his dark-circled eyes were sad.

“She must’ve pulled her punches a little. After all, you’re still very much alive and kicking. Though, from the looks of you, not as high.” He looked around critically, “Have any of you been eating properly?”

Hancock patted him on the back, “Yer a dad alright.”

“I don’t know about her holding back, but after I saved MacCready’s very life,” Deacon paused to smile at the sniper’s eye roll, “she responded to me. She even stopped trying to pull my head off.”

“It’s likely that due to the power armor, Wraith would have had no idea who MacCready was.” Danse smirked at Deacon, “Had she failed to give you a chance to speak, you’d likely be a headless corpse right now.”

“Hmm. Not sure that’d be a good look for me.”

“Gentlemen, we should be ready to begin.” Amari turned from Curie and smiled at the five men, “You can stay during the exam if you wish, but I ask that you refrain from any loud conversations.”

“She means arguing.”

“We know what she means, Deacon.”

“And there won’t be any arguing, cause yer gonna keep yer trap shut.”

……

Wraith was watching Glory. Beautiful, powerful Glory. The memory came into focus as her mind filled in details. They were fighting side by side in the Metro. Now they were sitting and talking at HQ. Now they were sharing a beer.

She was in an expanse of white nothingness. Prism like, the memory hung in midair as if it was suspended from an invisible celling by invisible rope. Wraith became aware that there were two others watching it with her.

Philippa was staring intently on one side. In her full Marine dress uniform, she was the very picture of military discipline and order. Her hair was tightly pulled back and up, held fast by a squad of hair pins under her cap.

The other confused Wraith and she narrowed her eyes, “You can’t be here.”

“That’s right; you’re dead.” Philippa was matter of fact, her eyes emotionless.

“If I’m dead then I can go and be anywhere I like, wouldn’t you say?” The dead woman didn’t look away from the memory, “You are in love with this woman.”

“Was. She’s dead. Like you.” Philippa corrected her.

“Probably not like me…”

“I’m not sure if I was in love. I was definitely interested, though.”

“The timing was inappropriate, Wraith.” There was a hint of disapproval in Philippa’s voice.

“Maybe. I wanted to try. I just…”

“Ran out of time.” Philippa finished the thought.

The memory changed. Now it was Deacon; fighting raiders in the rain. He was wearing a white t-shit and his muscles were clearly visible as they move underneath the wet, transparent cloth.

The dead woman hummed appreciatively, “Very nice. I don’t know this one either. You’re in love with him too.” She raised an eyebrow at Wraith, “Quite the harem you would have had.”

“How obtuse. Regardless, he’s not interested.”

“Don’t be stupid, Philippa.” Wraith rolled her eyes at her, “That’s not the problem.”

“Explain.”

“He doesn’t think he deserves to be loved. By anyone. So he… sabotages himself.”

“I’m bored. What else is on?” The dead woman twirled her index finger in the air like she was dialing a phone. When the memory changed to Hancock and Wraith in the midst of strip-tease foreplay, she hummed again, “Now this is something worth watching.”

“Inappropriate.”

“This… this is private…”

The dead woman leered, “My, he is hung nicely for being so tall and slender. And you,” She turned her lecherous gaze to Wraith, “how responsive you are! You can see how you savor his every caress. More!”

“No… get…”

The image changed again with a flick of the dead woman’s finger. Now it was MacCready and Hancock: in a flurry of motion as they passionately kissed while removing each other’s clothes.

“Fantastic. I can appreciate why your eyes would linger.” Her laugh was cruel, “Ha! So much to take in.”

“Not funny. Also, your intrusion is inappropriate.”

Wraith reached out, swatted the memory and as it spun each revolution showed a different memory in a confusing blur, “This isn’t a peep show. Those moments are special. What the fuck are you doing here?! You don’t belong. You’re not me!”

The dead woman pouted, “Aww, just when it was getting good. I want to see more of Hancock’s…”As she reached out to the memory Wraith smacked her hand. In turn the dead woman dealt Wraith a vicious backhand that sent her spinning away through the void. “Know your place!”

In an instant the memory and the two other women reoriented next to Wraith. She rubbed her jaw and slowly stood, “I’m going to kick your ass!”

The dead woman vanished.

“What the fuck?”

“You can’t keep me from him, you know. Hancock, that is.” The dead woman appeared at the very edge of Wraith’s vision then began circling her; like a shark that smells blood in the water. “I’ll have him.”

“I remember… you hurt him. Why?! Leave him alone. Why are you doing this? What do you want?!”

The dead woman’s face twisted into a mask of rage, “You dare ask me ‘why’?”

“It is reasonable.”

The dead woman ignored her. She stopped directly in front of Wraith and held up two fingers, “Twice you’ve destroyed me! You took all that I had; my only chances for happiness.” She folded her arms, a smug look on her face, “So now I’ll take all that you hold dear. Your empire will crumble and your people will die. Then when you are completely lost, you’ll come to my embrace willingly!”

“You’re just like Marie.” Now Philippa circled the dead woman, her modest heels somehow making a tapping sound that was immensely satisfying to Wraith’s ears, “You were never happy. Not in any recent years. You committed murder and engaged in other criminal acts; kidnapping for example. And much like Marie, you blame your loss and shortcomings on Wraith. It’s a classic case of projection.”

The dead woman’s eyes grew shrewd, “One major difference between us is that Marie is dead.”

Wraith paled and took a step back, “What? How…”

“Oh, I believe you know.” The dead woman reached out and spun the memory one more time, “Watch closely now, darling.”

The image of Wraith ripping Marie in half, from the vantage point of her own eyes, played over and over on the prism.

Wraith’s voice was weak, “No…”

“Yes! Look how strong you are. I have never wanted you more than at that moment!” The dead woman raised her arms above her head, exalted, “You are a monster, Wraith!” In a flash of blinding green light, the dead woman became Radiance, “But I am a much, much stronger one!” Grabbing ahold of Philippa, she enveloped her.

Wraith felt the pain as a part of her was being slowly consumed by fire. Her inhuman screams echoed throughout the void.

…..

“I SAID TURN IT OFF!” Hancock clenched and unclenched his fists; seconds away from smashing the memory lounger.

“Mr. Mayor, I am doing my very best to do just that.” Amari had begun shut-down procedures as soon as Wraith started screaming, “There!”

Wraith’s wail abruptly cut off and the ensuing silence was almost as defining. Then, everyone moved and spoke at once.

“Her pulse is stabilizing…”

“What happened?!”

“Oh, Madame! Oh, oh…”

“It sounded like… What was happening to her?”

MacCready and Hancock were each working on a wrist strap and as soon as she was free, Valentine scooped her up and took her back to her cage and laid her on the mattress, “Just what in the Sam Hill was that supposed to accomplish?!”

“I don’t understand these readings…” Amari was frowning at her terminal, “There is a film or some sort of interference. And an overlap of… there are images of two brains here.”

“What does that mean?” Danse was holding on to Curie as if she were a life raft.

“It means that I cannot get a proper reading of the condition of Wraith’s brain.”

“We just wasted so much time.” Deacon sagged into a chair and spoke into his hands.

Curie sniffled, “I am so very sorry. If I had…”

“It’s alright, Baby Bird. There’s no way you could’ve known.” Hancock joined Valentine in Wraith’s cage and he patted Curie’s back as he passed. Reaching down, he laid a hand on the detective’s shoulder, “I know you want to stay with her, Nicky, but it’s not safe.” He walked over to Deacon and stood tapping his foot until the spy looked up at him, “Yer getting yer way now.” Placing his hands on his thighs he bent down so his face was directly level with his, “I can’t hear her screamin’ like that though, you feel me?” If the ghoul still had a nose, it would have been touching Deacon’s, “I am trusting you.”

Deacon swallowed hard, “I… uh guess… I won’t live to you regretting it.”

……

……

They didn’t let Infamy try right away. The decision to wait after Wraith regained consciousness and had demonstrated at least the same level of functionality as pre brain scan was unanimous. Unfortunately for Valentine it also meant it was past the time he had allotted himself to be away from his immediate family.

As difficult as it was to leave Wraith, MacCready left with him, “I shouldn’t be away from Duncan this long.”

They decided to wait further until MacCready returned and there was a changing of the guard as Cait arrived with a Minutemen convoy. She spent some time trying to talk to Wraith, but after the initial aggression, she ignored her.

“I tried me best, but… How much should I tell Bear? I’m… not for knowin’.”

Outside of Hancock none of Wraith’s ghoul friends were allowed, for their own safety, to visit with her. And consequentially, Hancock wasn’t allowing himself to return to Goodneighbor for fear of bringing further harm to his people. He stayed in contact with Fahrenheit through Radio Freedom, and even had her hold his granddaughter near the microphone so he could hear her burble.

After a few days, MacCready passed Cait astride Gracie on the road, each offering a sad wave to the other. As he was walking through the door, he intended to shout a “hello”. Raising his head he took a deep intake of breath and collapsed, unconscious on the stoop. Deacon, dozing under a book on the couch in the living room, heard the thud and vaulted the furniture to get to him.

“Crap! Curie! HANCOCK!”

He had already started to come around by the time Hancock had picked him up and he batted at his arm as the ghoul was taking him up the stairs, “You can put me down. I’m fine.”

“No, I don’t think so. You are going to get some sleep and let Curie give you some fluids and eat some damn food and…”

Hancock left him to Curie’s care and came down to the kitchen. He muttered to himself as he started to heat up leftovers, “…what if ya fell on the road? Christ! …tryin’ to be all places at once… just alike… the two of ‘em are givin’ me fits! How am I supposed to… shit… fuck… goddamn it!”

“Uh, Hancock? Your shirt. Your shirt’s on fire, man!” Deacon grabbed a dishtowel, extinguished him then proceeded to roll up the mayor’s sleeves, “Not sure if MacCready likes to eat burnt ghoul…” He was surprised that Hancock let him help and it made him nervous for some reason. Especially since the ghoul didn’t say any sort of snappy comeback and just quietly watched with his large, dark eyes; a half smile on his scarred lips. He looked away quickly, angry that he almost blushed, “What?”

“Heh. Nothin’, brother. Thanks.” Deacon returned to the sofa and Hancock worked quietly for a minute before casually calling to him over his shoulder, “You know that floral-nightmare couch you’ve been tryin’ to sleep on jackknifes, right?”

“No?! I did not know that! Was anybody gonna tell me that?!”

…..

“I need total concentration. Complete silence. It would be ideal if you left us alone so I might focus…”

“Absolutely not. We cannot permit this treacherous villain to have any unsupervised contact with Wraith.” Danse stood with his hands on his hips and his chest out.

“Alright, Capt’n Eyebrows, take it easy,” Deacon was having a difficult time clearing the image of Danse in a cape from his mind, “we won’t. Just…”

“STRONG IS HOUND MASTER! BLUE HUMANS DON’T SHOOT!”

“Hey, Strong’s back!” MacCready went outside to bring the super mutant in, “Hey, buddy. Wow! You alright?”

Strong sported a fine collection of new scars and one of his eyes was swollen shut, “MACK REE DEE! STONG FOUND A GOOD FIGHT!”

Prompted by a look from Danse, who had followed him up the stairs, MacCready questioned the super mutant about his pursuit of Radiance, but Strong only shrugged and made an assortment of noncommittal grunts.

“We kinda assumed it went that way. She didn’t rough you up like that, did she?”

“No. Glowing one ran. SCARED OF STRONG!”

“Rightfully so. Excellent effort. Glad to have you back in one piece.” Danse was stiff and formal and the words were forced.

An awkward silence descended as the two stared at each other and was only broken when Strong sniffed somewhat disdainfully and muttered something about wanting to see his alpha.

“She’s downstairs, but,” MacCready touched his friend’s big green elbow, “she’s in a cage. It’s so… uh…”

“HA HA!” He smiled, “It’s okay, Mack Ree Dee; Alpha is strongest. Would hurt little humans. Strong would be…”

“Sad?”

The super mutant said nothing, only raised a hairless brow, turned, stomped down the stairs and over to Wraith’s cage. He stood there silently while she growled and threw herself at him. His brutish face softened somewhat and he lowered his voice to a whisper, “Alpha is the strongest.”

Infamy snapped their fingers, “You all trust this big green nasty, right?” The glowing one addressed Strong directly, “Radiance should try and retrieve Wraith. You’d like to rip her asunder, right? Ha! How long can you sit still and quiet, waiting for prey?”

Strong looked over their head to Hancock and MacCready, “What does this ghoul say? Strong stay here?”

“That’s up to you, brother.”

“I agree that Radiance is afraid of him.” Danse actually liked the idea, “She fled as soon as he charged her, despite having numerical superiority.”

“Then shouldn’t he be stationed outside where she can see him?” Deacon was considering using a Stealth Boy to sneak back into the basement regardless of the consensus and was worried that the super mutant might smell him and tattle.  

“STRONG HUNGRY! WANT TO EAT MEAT!”

“I’ll hook you up, brother.” Hancock indicated that Strong should proceed him up the stairs before turning back to Infamy, “We’re gonna take shifts keeping an eye on you. I don’t give a flying fuck about what your ideal setup is. You’ll figure it out or I’ll take you apart.”

…..

…..

“Now, this is interesting! Never quite had an experience like this before. Ha!”

“Great. Another unwelcome guest.”

“What’s the matter, Wraith? Not enough room for one more mind? Seems spacious to me. Hahaha!” Finally past the barrier, Infamy spun. They wore a set of clean, hooded, midnight blue vestments with a simple atomic diagram of hydrogen embroidered in gold thread across their back. Raising their arms and twirling in the white void, their robes billowed out behind them.

“You’re not the company I’m looking for.”

They dropped their arms and sagged their shoulders, “It’s so hard being so far from home in a place where no one likes you.”

“Yeah, well, whose fault is that?”

“That is becoming increasingly obscure, actually.” They frowned at her, “Admittedly, I should have done more research into Marie’s claims and less into where your weakness were to be found.”

“I helped the Children more than I hurt them.”

“Ah yes, but you did hurt us.” They grimaced at her, “You look like shit.”

“Hey! Fuck you too, you glowstick-looking motherfucker!”

“I would figure you’d look more like your version of normal. You’re still wearing that deathclaw armor. Hmm. You look worse in here then you do… Well, that is neither here nor there. What was all that yelling about?”

Wraith sat, cross legged on the non-existent floor, “Radiance was… flexing.”

The glowing one sat as well, “She comes and goes as she pleases then?”

Wraith half shook her head, “No, I don’t think she’s actually here. It’s more like she’s left a piece of herself here to watch me, but I’m a little fuzzy on the details.”

Infamy popped up and danced around her, “Drop the barrier then. Come out and play!”

Wraith tilted her head back and laughed; a humorless and unpleasant sound, “It’s not mine!” She suddenly stood and spun around much like Infamy had, “I’m a prisoner. Radiance both loves and hates me. She wants to keep me safe while simultaneously torturing me.” Wraith stood still and raised her fists, “I keep fighting her though. I’m starting to remember real stuff. When she went for Hancock I felt it. I felt him! And I remembered later.” Her eyes went wide and she took Infamy by the shoulders, “Hancock! How is he?!”

Although they felt a rush of fear, Infamy willed themselves not to pull away from her, “All of your rowdy, ungrateful, terrifying friends are fine. Sad to say.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” She let go and returned to the floor, drawing pictures with her finger in sand only she could see, “She wanted me to trigger detonations on the fusion cores, but I just ejected them. It took all the ground I had gained and I pretty much lost it after that.” She smiled sadly, “Except for Deacon. I remember Deacon. He told me he loves me.”

“Well, you can thank me for that! I’ve been chipping away at your crust for a while now. Now that I know it’s not yours, I can be a little harsher. Hmm, I think. Hahaha! Are there any rules for this game we’re playing? I’ll work from the outside and you’ll…”

“Why are you helping me all of the sudden?”

They adopted an indignant expression and put their hands on their hips, “I’ll have you know we do a great deal of charity work! Infamy is very altruistic.”

Wraith snorted, “Right. Just because you don’t charge for your services doesn’t magically change what you do into charitable works by any stretch of the concept.”

“Ha! Well, maybe it’s because you are a Child of Atom? The Mother’s Chosen One even.”

“Bullshit. Who was it that beat you up and made you help? Mac? Not Danse or Hancock; pretty sure they would have killed you outright.”

They stuck out their tongue, folded their arms and turned away, “I’m not admitting to anything.”

“Deacon. If he’s back then he’s the one. He’s an incredible fighter.”

“Yes, yes. As I said; all of your friends are terrifying.”

“But why help me and not Radiance?”

They dropped back to a sitting position and propped their chin up with their elbow, “I don’t think this creature is of Atom. I think she’s on her own, awful agenda. She’s probably going to interfere with my people. Might even send you to destroy us. Perhaps that’s what the Fog Mother meant by you being the Harbinger. As it is, many of our ghoul members have been suffering headaches and even Mother Isolde, a human, felt the pain of Radiance’s insidious intrusion.” They pouted like a child, “Plus, she stole all my ferals, so I wouldn’t wanna help her anyways.”

“Okay, fine. Let’s say that your intentions are honorable…”

“Because they are.”

Wraith rolled her eyes, “Then what should I be doing? Sunny didn’t have much time to teach me... before…”

A brief flash of regret passed over the glowing one’s face, “He surly is with Atom,” They sprang to their feet and twirled again, “but I’m in here with you! You’re so lucky. Hahahahahahaaaa!”

Wraith made a disgusted face, “Great. Now, how do I get out of here?”

“Just what you had been doing I suppose. How clear can you see the barrier?”

“Not well. I’m pushing out all around with no real direction…”

Infamy was impressed.

“I shall be your guide. Follow my light and I will lead you to the vulnerable…”

“Follow your light?” Wraith interrupted, stood and narrowed her eyes, “How do I know you won’t just entrap me the same as her?”

They looked around and held out their hands palms up, “What choice do you have? You are clearly powerful, Harbinger. Fight Radiance. Fight me! Fight, fight, fight!” They raised their fists and shook them in the air in time with their chant, “I’ll aid you on the outside, while you…”

There was a sudden flash of green fire and Radiance was there. She glowered at Infamy, “Hsst. Begone, pest!” With a flip of her wrist she cast them out, smirked at Wraith then vanished.

Left alone, Wraith smiled, “Fight from the inside.”

…..

…..

MacCready happened to be on guard when Atom’s Assassin had their next major breakthrough. He was working on a gun restoration that Cait had brought for him and he felt her looking at him. Glancing up their eyes met and he could see that hers were clear. He jumped up and all but threw the worktable aside to get to her, “Wraith! Wraith! Wraith!” Breaking his own rule, he stuck his arms through the bars and pulled her to him. He cupped her face, kissed her then clunked their foreheads together, “I love you.”

“I… love… you too… Mac.”

He turned away to call to Hancock before kissing her again, “Are you back? Please. Please be back!”

The rest of her friends poured down the stairs with Hancock in the lead. He hugged and kissed her as well before making way for rest of them. He happened to glance at the glowing one and noticed that Infamy had their teeth bared in obvious effort, “Not sure how much time we got...”

Wraith suddenly pulled away from Deacon and turned back to MacCready. There was fear in her eyes and the effort it took to speak was clear, “I… love you, Mac.” When he tried to reciprocate she shook her head, “No… you don’t… understand. I would have… killed you anyway. It doesn’t… matter.” Her eyes filled with tears and she backed away to the far corner of the cage, “She’ll use me… to kill… you all. I love you all… I’ll kill you all… and she’ll… make me see every moment of it.”

“Why is she doin’ this?! Who or what is she?”

“And what does she want with Hancock?”

Wraith’s eyes lost their focus and she was soon back to a snarling beast, but she held on for just long enough to tell them Radiance’s true name, “She’s… Emogene.” 

......

......

Thank you so much for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my masterlink post under the Wraith in the Ruins tag (if my tags are working, haha) or my pinned post. As always, my ask is open. If you have any questions/concerns/comments please feel free to drop me a line. I will try to answer promptly and would love to hear from you. =^..^=     

[danseinthefallout]

the art of danse - one

a paladin danse fanfiction

story warning; this story contains strong language, adult themes (such as violence, smut/NSFW themes, drug use, and other harsh themes) and canon and un canon language and story plots of Fallout 4 and Fallout 3.

summary; yea, the bombs may have fallen, but art and love have not. and of course, people still tell white lies

~~

word count; 3,6k

chapter one - idiots

Stella wondered how she stumbled in a police station, fighting feral ghouls with a man who battle cried. One minute she was looking for her friends, Lucas and Joanna and the next was involved in military business. She knew that they needed help, even one man in power armor couldn’t take all those ferals at once. She saw one of his men down, lazily shooting at them as a woman was tending to him. She was hoping to ask if they have seen her idiot friends and she would be on her way back to Endcliff in hopes they would be there. 

Stella was caught off guard by looking at the women tending to the man as he gave up as a feral flung at her, knocking her to the ground. This has happened more times then she’d like to admit. She reached for her gun as she used the back of it to bash in the skull of the feral ghoul. “Filthy fucker!” She yelled as she jumped back up and shot the feral in the head, just to make sure. The man in the power armor was fighting three more ferals, the number of them decreases. He seemed to have a hard time as one of them attacked his arm. Stella was a master at headshots and with three bullets and a steady eye killed each and every one of them. Stella looked down the street to see if any more were coming, but it was clear, thankfully. 

Stella was unsure if she should stay around, after all, she could tell this was the Brotherhood of Steel territory. She only knew that from the orange outfits and the symbols that were around the police station. A while ago she bumped into a wounding scribe by the name of Danny. The man in the power armor came up to Stella as she held her gun close to her chest. Stella looked at the man’s face and couldn’t help notice how handsome he was. Her face grew red but hoped he didn’t notice due to the blood that was splattered on her skin. “We appreciate the assistance, civilian. But what’s your business here?” The man asked, his voice deep and more calming then his battle cry. Stella raised an eyebrow, remembering the idiots she called family. She let out a smirk, hoping that they didn’t get kidnapped by raiders… again.

“Looking for two idiots. Who are you?” Stella asked nodding her head at the man. Stella put her gun back in her hoser as she crossed her arms. 

“I’m Paladin Danse, Brotherhood of Steel. If I appear suspicious, it’s because our mission here has been difficult. Since the moment we arrived in the Commonwealth, we’ve been constantly under fire. If you want to continue pitching in, we could use an extra gun on our side,” The paladin spoke. Stella could use this to her advantage.

“Will do, but I need your help in return,” Stella spoke. “You know those idiots I referred too? Their the closest thing to family I got. It’s like them to trail off and get kidnapped by raiders or hideout for 2 days surrounded by feral ghouls. This time they promised me they would stay close and well, no one other than me is here. We’re from Endcliff, so making our way to the middle of the Commonwealth is a mission. Luckily, I got a signal from one of my teammates and it led me to Cambridge. Any help would mean a lot before I make way back home to see them there or not,” Stella sighed, frustrated at Lucas and Joanna. She hated traveling back home alone.

“Over there is Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys, Haylen will help decode the signal for you and track down where your team is, but we need your help,” The paladin spoke as Stella put a hand on her hip, listing.

“What do you need me to help with?” Stella asked

“We’re on recon duty, but I’m down a man and our supplies are running low. I’ve been trying to send a distress call to my superiors, but the signal’s too weak to reach them,” Stella could see the worry in the paladin’s eyes and couldn’t help but feel bad for him and his team. The women that were tending to the man, now known as Scribe Halen turned to Stella and Danse, butting in.

“Sir, if I may?” Haylen began.

“Proceed Haylen,” Danse instructed, Stella, raised her brow.

“I’ve modified the radio tower on the roof of the police station, but I’m afraid it’s not enough. What we need is something that will boost the signal,” Haylen informed Paladin Danse and Stella.

“We need a deep range transmitter, our target is ArcJet Systems. We secure the area, get the transmitter and bring it back here. Will you be willing to help us get it?” Danse asked.

“I said yes, didn’t I? Let’s get you a new transmitter,” Stella smiled.

“Sounds like a plan, stay behind me,” 

***

Fucking synths! Stella had to fight first-gen synths just to get that stupid transmitter. Almost died twice, but with a little will, she got that transmitter. Haylen was decoding the signal she got on her Pip-Boy to see where Lucas and Joanna where. Danse and Stella were making their way back to the police station, Danse was explaining some stuff on their way there and back, but Stella kind of blacked out on the conversation, really focusing on her friends. She did look at him a lot, she hasn’t found a man that good looking in a while. Stella noticed how he spoke and how serious he was. She’d hope that she could travel with him again, but she knew after this, she has to find her friends and go back to Endcliff.

As they walked down the road back to the station, Paladin Danse broke the silence and looked at the women who held her gun tightly. “You mentioned you’re from Endcliff, why are you way out here?” Danse asked, breaking his serious military character. Stella thought for a moment and looked up at the man in armor.

“We’re on a supply run as well as a manhunt. A raider gang came though Endcliff a few weeks ago, stole some important technology from us, killed 3 of our people, and injured 6. That never happened to us before. Luckily, me and my friend Luna killed them, but their leader left with the tech piece we need most. We’re hoping to find that bastard and get that back,” Stella was vague on the subject but specific enough because she felt like she could trust Danse.

“I’m sorry to hear that citizen. I hope you track down and kill that scum,” Danse said with compassion.

“Name is Stella Kennedy by the way. I was a vault dweller for most of my childhood. Vault 101. I was 12 when I escape after a kid left to find their father. I guess I kinda wander off, found some friends at Little Lamplight and spent a year there. Became friends with Mayor… fuck was it MacKenny? Cready? Anyways...” Stella trailed off. “Shit… that must have been 10 years since that bullshit happened,” Stella smirked to herself.

“Vault 101 and Little Lamplight was in the Capital Wasteland, right?” Danse asked with suspicion.

“Yes, sir. I spent most of my days wandering around until I was 15 I made my way to the Commonwealth where I meet Lucas and Joanna,” Stella smiled. 

“I grew up in the Capital Wasteland as well,” Danse smiled but also remembering everything that happened. 

“No shit soldier, where from?” Stella asked

“Rivet City,” Danse simply respond

“I’ve only been there a few times, I bought some junk there to build my first gun and only went there to get supplies when I was leaving for the Commonwealth,” 

 Danse could see the police station getting closer and closer. The two went inside as Stella gave the transmitter to Danse. Haylen walked over at the two.

“The signal is coming from Lexington, from the Super Duper Mart there. Hopefully whoever you’re looking for is there,” Haylen smiled.

“Thank you so much. Since I help you and you helped me, I think I won’t bother you and your team. Perhaps we’ll meet again,” Stella smiled.

“Wait, before you go, I have something for you,” Danse said

“No need to give me anything,” Stella said softly. Danse rolled his eyes and handed her a laser rifle. It was beautiful, to say the least.

“No need, as a soldier we always pay our debts. I modded it myself, it’s called Righoues Authority,” Danse smiled as Stella smiled back, her heart grew.

“Thank you Paladin Danse. I’ll return the favor, I promise. Say, if you’re ever near Endcliff, you should visit sometime. Benji will question you, but tell him I sent you. Where can I find you and your team after this?” Stella asked, taking the gun from Danse.

“Rhys and Haylen will stay put, I’ll be going back to the Prydwen. If you ever need me, come back here and we’ll get a vertibird to fly you there,” Danse said “If you ever want to become a soldier yourself, we’ll talk and I’ll be your sponsor,”

“Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I’m soldier material. However, you’ll probably see me again,” Stella declined the offer.

“Ad victoriam,” Paladin Danse spoke. Stella knew what all that meet when she spent some time with Danny, smile smiled

“She doesn’t know what that means, why waste your breath,” Rhys scoffed

“To victory. Ad victoriam, to you Paladin. Thank you for everything,” And there Stella made her way to Lexington, with her head filled with Paladin Danse

***

Lexington was always a raider shit hole. It was sad that only raiders, ferals and even super mutants littered the place. Stella knew the ends and outs of the place, but always had to tiptoe just incase a landmine was placed and every raider and their dead mothers could hear it.

She scouted out the Super Duper Mart and saw some roaming ferals liter the place, but from the looks of it, most were dead. Probably from Joanna and Lucas. She could hear yelling from a raider in the back of the store. “How many times do I have to tell you? I’m going to kill you both and keep it. Then I’ll find your friend who killed my gang.” Stella’s jaw dropped. It was him. She felt her heart beating out of her chest as she crouched down. 

Although she didn’t know the three people that his gang killed all that well, she knew that justice had to survive for their families. She turned on the dim lights on her Pip-Boy as she made her way across the market, being careful to not make any noise. Last time she was here, ferals littered the store. 

She saw the greasy raider towering Joanna. Only Joanna. She was tied up in a chair. It made Stella sick to her stomach. But she started to wonder where Lucas was and her mind started to race. 

Stella made a plan, point, and shoot. She aimed her rifle at the raiders’ head, making a perfect headshot. When she pulled the trigger, nothing happened. Fuck! She thought she brought enough bullets for this mission, but she used the rest of her bullets on synths and ghouls. Ha, funny…

Stella saw as the raider integrated Joanna, but she couldn’t just walk in there, discuss the weather. She knew these sacks of shits, they’ll just kill Joanna and then her. Stella somehow forgot the gift the Paladin gave her and reached for it. She never actually used a laser rife before, so she was kind of excited to kill that scum bag with it. She put her rifle over her shoulder, took out the rifle and aimed. “Hey fuck face!” She screamed as the raider turned around and struggled to get his gun before Stella pulled the trigger a few times and blowing his leg off. Holy fuck, that Paladin is a killing machine if he made this.

The raider screamed in pain unable to do anything. “You fucking bitch!” He screamed, trying to crawl to Stella who rushed over to Joanna and untied the rope. Joanna went to a steamer trunk to retrieve her gun that Stella gave her on Christmas years ago and the piece that the raider stole from Endcliff

“Should we let him out of his misery?” Joanna asked as they fleed to the front door. Stella laughed, hearing the pain that the raider was in, desperate to escape.

“Never, he needs to feel pain for the people he killed,” Stella said as the left the market. “What happened to Lucas?” Stella asked with worry. Joanna held her gun.

“He went out looking for help, I think we went to that police station to ask for help, some Brotherhood of Steel members are held up there, heard it on my tracker when I made that distress call, hoping someone would help,” Joanna explained.

“Perfect, I was just there. Helped this really cute Paladin and his team was stranded. They said we can come back whenever I hope that’s true,” Stella doubted.

“Okay, you lead the way before ferals attack,” Joanna nodded. “Hey what’s up with you and the Brotherhood of Steel? Didn’t you hook up with a scribe back in the Capital Wasteland?” Joanna laughed making Stella blush.

“I was 15, he was 17, we dated, then we fucked, it just so happened that I was held up with some Brotherhood soldiers and he was one of them. We went over this!” Stella said, clearly embarrassed.

“What about Scribe Danny?” Joanna teased.

“We’re just friends,” Stella stated.

“That’s not what my eyes would tell me,” Joanna laughed as the walked down the broken road to the police station. Stella shoved Joanna, annoyed, but a small smirk formed her lips. “I’m so happy you figured out my signal. I was so scared and I never really felt that fear before. All I could think about when he was yelling at me was you and Lucas. I had hope, of course, but I started to expect my death. I only felt that way once before and that one time was the accident. I learned to accept my new life as a ghoul fast, that was before of you guys… I just couldn’t imagine a life without you two… or your life without me. Shit, sorry if that was deep,” Joanna laughed as Stella gave her a side hug.

“I’d get you if you ended up in the Institute or the Capital Wasteland. You’re my family, just like Lucas is,” Stella stated with full truth to her statement.

“I love you, Stella,” Joanna smiled as she stopped in her tracks, giving Stella the biggest hug.

“I love you more, Joanna. Thank you for everything these past seven years,” Stella let go and looked at Joanna, grabbing her shoulders. “Just remember you’re still Joanna. You’re not just a ghoul or a freak like those assholes in the Brotherhood think or the folks in Diamond City,” Stella preached as Joanna smiled and rolled her eyes. Joanna pushed her arms away and did the same thing to Stella.

“And goes to you, you’re more than a prototype, you’re the best goddamn gun modder in all the Commonwealth and you let me fuck up your hair when I can’t with mine,” Joanna laughed as she pulled on one of Stella’s dyed braids.

“Hey, I really like the split color look,” Stella shook her hair a little. “Also, don’t let the Brotherhood know I’m… whatever the fuck I am and I’ll tell them to suck my dick if they give you a hard time,” Stella smiled.

“If you think it’s a good idea…” Joanna sarcastically commented. “But I’ll probably just wear my gas mask when we get there,”

Approaching the police station, the two girls casually made way towards the door. Joanna put on a gas mask that she looted off a raider, she knew she couldn’t walk in and have the soldier happy to see her. That did hurt Stella to her core. She hated the new Brotherhood to be quite frank. The Brotherhood was never like that years ago. One of the soldiers gave her a weird look, not expecting to see the mysteries girl so soon.

“Is Paladin Danse still here?” She asked one of the Knights.

“Yes, civilian, you may enter,” The Knight stated. Stella entered the police station to see Scribe Haylen working on the transmitter and Knight Rhys planning something out on the table. Stella went up to Haylen and cleared her throat. Haylan looked up and smiled.

“Hey, Stella! You’re back sooner then I expected! And I’m assuming this is…” Haylen paused thinking of Joanna’s name

“Haylen this is Joanna and Joanna this is Haylen… I have a question,” Stella got to the point and leaned in.

“What would that be?” Haylen smiled.

“Has a dude by the name of Lucas, about yay high, blonde hair. Joanna told me that he was coming here for help,” Haylen put down her stuff and stood up straight.

“Yes, Paladin Danse went with him to look. I’ll call him telling them to abort their mission and come back to the police station. The two just left,” Haylen spoke as she went to the radio next to her. “Paladin Danse, come in Paladin Danse, head back to the police station, Joanna and Stella are here for Lucas, come in Paladin Danse,” Haylen spoke, hoping that he’d come in the other side. She waited a few seconds before a signal started to come in.

“This is Paladin Danse, aborting mission now,” 

“Now we just wait,” Haylen smiled.

“Thank you so much Haylen seriously. I wouldn’t know where to look for Joanna if it wasn’t for you,” Stella smiled.

“Why does your friend wear a gas mask?” Rhys burst out, causing everyone’s head to turn to him.

“Rhys, you can’t just ask why someone wears something?” Haylen said, annoyed.

“Yea I can… So, why is that? Is there something you’re hiding?” Rhys smirked. Stella rolled her eyes and although you couldn’t see it, so was Joanna

“Hey asshole, why do you care?” Joanna blurted out. That caused Rhys to stand up, pissed off.

“You’re speaking to a Brotherhood Knight, civilian. I subject you don’t speak to me like that, or there will be a problem; so I’ll as you again, what are you hiding… freak?” Rhys said slowly as he approached Joanna until he was close to her face. Stella felt herself tense up because she knew how Joanna can get when some asshole threatens her. Stella grabbed Joanna’s shoulders.

“How about we just wait for Danse and Lucas to get here, please,” Stella stated.

“Please, Rhys can you just let this go. Danse will have your head if he sees you acting like this. I’m so sorry you two,” Haylen pleed.

“Fine, but I will figure it out, I always do,” Rhys said as he walked away.

“He’s such an ass! I’m so sorry,” Haylen was so embarrassed, her face was red like a tato. 

“It’s fine, I’m use to that. I’m kinda burned up, don’t like showing my face a lot,” Joanna half lied.

“No need to explain. I don’t mind… Danse should be here any minute now,” Haylen stated as she started to finish up fixing the transmitter.

“Hey, thanks again, we’ll be outside and we’ll fight any more ferals that come this way,” Stella stated as she grabbed Joanna’s hand and went out the door. She didn’t want any gunfire especially when Joanna is on edge.

Stella turned to Joanna. “What the fuck was that Anna? I mean what the fuck for both of you… Please try not to get yourself killed AGAIN. We’re almost done, we got the piece and we just need Lucas and then we’re home free. Please… and also don’t say shit to this Paladin, at least don’t call him an asshole, he could be useful,” Stella begged as she hugged her rifle to her chest, looking up and down the road to check for ferals, the Paladin or the idiot she called Lucas.

“You just don’t want me to blow your chances to blow the Paladin. I bet he’s not that hot,” Joanna laughed.

“Ah! Shut up! I don’t have a thing for soldiers in the Brotherhood. It was a two-time thing, stop teasing me,” Stella was clearly annoyed, but Joanna loved it. Stella rolled her eyes as she looked down the street to see the Paladin in his power armor and Lucas. “Lucas!” Stella shouted as Joanna saw him and perked up. The two girls ran to Lucas and gave him the biggest hug as if they haven’t seen each other in ages. 

“What the actual fuck dude! I almost shit myself thinking you died,” Joanna shouted as she let go and looked at the Paladin. Stella was right. He was as sexy as fuck. “And this must be your knight and shining armor ready to take you away and fuck you, aye,” Joanna laughed.

“That is not appropriate, civilian,” Danse said with the most seriousness. Stella slapped her face.

“I’m so sorry Paladin. Thank you for everything. I will repay you… and before Joanna says anything, nothing sexual,” Stella said as she looked at Joanna who was doing that thing with her hands to indicate a penis and a vagina. You know that hand signal. Stella flipped her off. “Anyways, we should head back to Endcliff before people get a search team for us. Make sure to visit if you’re ever in the area. Goodbye,”  Stella smiled.

“Anytime, soldier. You have a character full of friends. I’ll make sure to use that opportunity,” Paladin Danse cracked a smile. “Ad victorim, Stella”

“Ad victorim, Paladin,”

Authors Note; I’ve been really into writing this story and I have already written 2 more chapters that I’ll post sooner than later! Thank you for reading and I will try to quench all of your Danse thrist and needs.

[monochromemedic]

Bad Dream (longer so read more)

Broken building in a broken town.  Was a pretty good hide out, except for the fact that that half of the roof was missing. At least there was a nice view of the night sky. I took guard at the window, rifle at my side as I occasionally peaked through the scope at a running scaver or a wild dog. Deacon was hunched by a lantern, thumbing through a large pre war book as he sat against a rotting wall. The silence was so odd, Deacon was a talker accept for when he had his nose in a book but, the silence now was rancid. Like something was wrong but neither one wanted to talk about it or knew what was wrong.

I ran my hands up and down the rifles stock, occasionally looking over at the spy. I wanted to break the silence, but for some reason it felt like I couldn’t speak. I felt like I could always speak to him but now... “Am I growing a third eye? You keep looking at me weird.” He finally said, breaking the silence. “No it’s just... something feels wrong. I just can’t... place it. Did... did I do something wrong?”  He raised a brow “No. Not unless you did something we both don’t know about, I think it’s fine.” I gave a low noise of annoyance, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. Something in the air... something wrong. What the hell was wrong? “Hey... Deacon can I come ... sit by you?” “Yeah I guess. Screw super mutants, and bombs coming through the window, am I right?” He chuckled as I sat down beside him, close enough to feel his cold hand touch mine before moved it back to his book. I rested my head against the wall, eyes trailing him over before looking down at the book trying to grasp what he was reading. It was gibberish Not a language I understood but actual nonsense. Mashes of letters strung together to look like sentences and paragraphs when in reality it was nothing. “Ha... hey Deacon what are you ready some ... spy book? This code?” I asked, nudging him with an elbow. My tone was joking but I could only feel the dread in the air beginning to build. “Spy book? What? No this is ‘The Seductive Tales of Marina Bree’ It’s a smut book ya know? Don’t tell me you’ve never read a good raunchy novel, or are you to in your own fantasies that you don’t need ‘em?” He joked, nudging me back. His jokes didn’t help. They felt hollow. Everything felt cold, hollow.  I could see Deacons eyes through his shades. I never could.  They were hollow. They weren’t eyes they were just holes. He looked pale in the pale light of the dying lantern. I jumped up, kicking my feet back as I gasped loudly, staring at my best friend stare right back, his cocky grin plastered permanent on his face as he spoke, lips still. “What’s wrong with you? Don’t tell me you’re feeling sick... do I have to play doctor for you again?” I could feel the house creak beneath us- no... him creak as he stood up, letting the book fall to the cold cave floor, knocking the lantern over and spilling it. The shadows behind the empty Deacon twisted and turned like an oil spill in water as he slowly strode towards me. “Don’t worry, I learned a few things from Carrington. You ever seen him stitch up a head? Can’t be that hard to split it back open to see what’s wrong you know? I mean... he probably doesn’t even have a degree for all we know...” His voice lost all joy, it was low, serious. The voice i’d only heard when he was truly upset I tried to back up but my hands only ran across more of the damp cave floor, crossing rocks that dug into my palms.  Everything was wrong. This was wrong, this isn’t right. “What, you don’t trust me? Oh nobody trusts Deacon, I get it...And I thought I could really open up to you... but I guess your just like everyone else. Man tries to hide the shit he’s done and he gets castrated for it like an animal... It wasn’t that bad. I didn’t hurt them THAT BAD. I mean you could still tell it was a person by the end of the day, ya just had to search a little HARDER THEN USUAL.” His crooked arm grabbed my collar, yanking me off of the ground and hoisting me above him, his smile slowly turning into an intense frown. I felt weightless against him, like him holding me was as easy as breathing. My hands felt wet with the dampness of the cave floor as I bawled my fists up in fear, the sound of Deacon’s voice echoing in my ear. “Jenna... Jenna... you gotta get up, you gotta wake up boss... Boss...” I jolted awake, eyes wide as Deacon stared at me, blood running down his face, my fingers digging into his forehead. “OW... OW... CAN YOU LET GO PLEASE? I’M NOT A SCRATCHING POST.” I didn’t answer, instead I took in the scene around me. There was Deacon, looking normal, the shades not showing anything especially in the darkness of the room we were in.  The room... it was underground, we were under ground in a little dug out cave we found. God that’s right we were sent to check it out and decided to sleep there for the night.  My eyes went back to my hands, slowly prying off of Deacon’s arm and face. They were covered in blood, his blood from the deep cut I made in his head. I knew it wasn’t bad but the amount of blood from those things made it seem like the world was ending. “I.. i... I’m... sorry I... I had a b...bad dream.” I told him, my voice hoarse and afraid. “Must of been some hell of a dream, I could of sworn a feral ghoul was digging into me for a midnight snack.” He muttered, rolling over to grab some gauze which he pressed to his head. He handed me a few stray bits of cloth, which I gratefully wiped away the blood from my hands. “You uh... wanna talk about it?” I spilled my thoughts. How it seemed so real, but so off, how nothing made sense and how he turned into a creature that seemed hellbent on turning me to a mass of flesh a super mutant would be proud of. He frowned when I told him what the dream version of him said, and I trailed off, not wanting to say much more besides how I woke up. “Damn...” Was all he said, “That sucks.” “I... you know I don’t think that of you Deacon it was just a dream.” Deacon gave a huff, flashing a smile “I sure hope you wouldn’t think there’s just holes in my head... wait... you know what I mean I have eyes.” I could feel the pain in his voice despite his guise.  Bringing up what he did, and how my dreams twisted it on me. It made me want to punch myself in the jaw for what I said. “Deacon you KNOW... I have fucked up dreams. I don’t think that of you... i’ve told you that. Don’t... don’t lie to me man.  Don’t give me that look, I know you well enough to tell when it hurts.” His smile faded a bit, pulling the gauze from his head only for some fresh blood to drip down. “I know. It still doesn’t feel nice to hear it is all. And I don’t like that the dream made you wanna cling on to something so damn hard.” “It doesn’t feel good that i thought of that either. Doesn’t feel good that I hurt you  like this... like... I should have kept my damn mouth shut. I hate making you feel like shit.” I fell back to the cave floor, head hitting the sleeping bag a bit too hard, earning a small thunk. Deacon did the same, pulling out some tape and haphazardly taping it on to his head. “So we both feel like shit... what now? We go to bed like an angry couple who just said how much we actually hate each other?” “Don’t say that, makes me think you hate me now.” I muttered, my eyes watering a bit “I don’t, I don’t- aw damn.” He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck for a moment before turning a bit red. “I don’t hate you. I was just saying we both feel like shit. Shitty and tired, it’s one more thing away from the worst thing you can be. So I... propose... the thing.” “The... thing?” “What if we... did the thing where you wrap your arms around each other and we slept like that.” “A hug?” I asked, my voice cracking a bit “I mean technically the term is cuddling, I thought you were well versed in this but... yes. As much as I... HATE hugging we could do that, feel better ya know ‘yay feel not like butt’ and also get some damn shut eye. It’s a real reach but it’s something  that would be better then us trying to have deep emotional talks while we wanna just pass out more then anything.”  I looked at him for a moment, before muttering a small, “Big spoon or little?” “Duh i’m the little one, I’m the one that gets pampered. Beside big spoon gets numb arms. I need my arms for reaching and connecting my hand to my shoulder.” He joked, which earned the smallest of smiles from me. He turned away and I nervously scooted up behind him, wrapping my arms around him with a shutter and even more red face. This isn’t how I thought things would go, but I was more then happy to be so close to Deacon, something as rare as pure water in this day and age. I decided to test the waters a bit more, pushing my face against his upper back, hearing Deacon’s breath halt for a moment before returning to normal. He was as nervous about this as much as I was. He didn’t say anything however, and seemed to relax a bit more in my arms. Then again not by much, more like a diamond to a stone. I gave him a little squeeze and muttered an apology to him, to which he just grumbled and told me to go to sleep in a dramatic tone. I smiled softly and uttered  “Good night D.” Under my breath.  It was a few moments before he echoed “Have a better dream... ok J?” I nodded against his back and let the sound of crickets and Deacon’s breathing fill the air, lulling me back into a more peaceful slumber.

[stuffy-attic]

F!Sole x Hancock [Hope Diamond/City]

Hancock had no damn clue why the hell they were stopping in a classroom of all places. Well to be fair he also had no idea why Sole had dragged him into Diamond City to start with. To be even more fair, Hancock was unsure of why he was dragged to most of the places that Sole picked.

Perhaps “dragged” was a bit strong. Hancock wasn’t in the habit of kidding himself after all; he’d follow Sole into a Deathclaw’s nest if that’s what she desired. He might question her sanity a bit but by hell he’d tag right along with a dopey smile on his face and a jet in hand.

What am I even thinking? Hancock wondered as he glanced at Sole watching the schoolroom children with a glowing smile. She could have whoever she wanted. There’s no way she’d be interested in me of all people.

“Oh!” Hancock jumped at Sole’s soft exclamation. “That robot is so lovely! I wonder if she remembers any prewar stuff. Whatd’ya think?” Before he could even form a response, Sole was already bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’m gonna go ask.”

“Should we even be in here?” Hancock asked.

Sole’s face immediately fell and for a moment Hancock feared the worst: she finally realized the error of her ways in bringing him along. It would only make sense that his luck would finally be running out now.

“Hancock? Is it…” she glanced quickly at the ogling children as they whispered amongst themselves. Their words weren’t very quiet though; they mostly consisted of varying sentiments involving Hancock’s presence in both the city itself and the school. “I’m sorry. I’m sure this is making you too uncomfortable. We can leave-”

“No, no.” Hancock felt his eyes widen. So damn kind, this one.  “I’ll be fine. I certainly know how to hold my own – I sure hope that you haven’t forgotten, doll.” He smiled when Sole did. “I just wanna make sure that you don’t end up in any sort of trouble for this.”

The snort that Sole let rip had Hancock chuckling. “As if they would even dare shake a stick at me,” she said. “I’ll be quick.” With that promise Sole turned quickly and scurried over to the robot who introduced herself as “Miss Edna”.

Hancock shifted nervously. A coup d’état he could handle. Attempted assassination, facing down bloody raiders, fighting a super mutant vis-à-vis – all things he could handle. All things he commonly did handle as most of these things he could knock off his to-do list on a typical Sunday morning in Goodneighbor. Staying cool under the probing eyes of children while standing in the middle of Diamond City?

Hancock’s turned towards the children at their desks. Immediately each of them became interested in the darling décor of the room as they turned to admire the stunning wood work of the splintering floor or the splash of color that was the teacher’s metal desk. He studied them for a minute before turning back to the comforting sight of Sole’s back (and backside).

The children broke into poorly suppressed tittering and anxious whispers.

The Diamond City security just down the stairs was starting to pace anxiously.

Ah fuck. Well I’ve trusted Sole to guide me so far, and she hasn’t faltered yet, Hancock acknowledged. Furthermore the junkie turned mayor-junkie had to admit that Sole had done more than just not faltered – she’d changed the way that he framed the world. Her kindness and drive to help people had Hancock tripping over his own feet only shortly after meeting her (well meeting her the second time around after the whole Bobbi-No-Nose business).

To say that Hancock was in deep, sappy, originally-only-read-about-in-books love with her would probably be getting the point across in a technical aspect, but it still lacked the depth and passion of his feelings for her.

But Hancock was Hancock and the things he’d done made him into something she didn’t deserve. He’d never regret those actions individually though, but he did regret the universe not giving him the chance to have met her earlier. Maybe before he got so cynical and bloody and ugly. But the wasteland was his home and his birthright and it molded him the same way it did with all its other inhabitants, it was Sole’s luck that she avoided having to grow up and marinate in something so foul as current “society” – and Hancock would never wish to take that away from her, not even in his fantasies of them being together.

Of course there was that small voice of his in the back of his head sometimes. She did flirt with you twice! Maybe even more. There’s something there. Speak of the devil and all that.

Hancock focused on the woman out of time once more. She had more scars than she started with, and her face was with some dings and bruises, and her hair had changed but… she still had that angel glow to her. As he watched her counting on her fingers (what was she doing?) Hancock felt his heart stutter a bit. Hi, my name is John Hancock and I can’t keep my fucking shit together. I enjoy finding new ways to fuck myself over. And you are?

“- I just… don’t get to talk to many adults.”

Immediately Hancock’s ears perked up and turned his focus back to Sole and her conversation with Miss Edna. What could that robot need an adult to talk to about? Could robots have sordid love affairs?

“This ‘love’ I hear about. Do you think you can have it for someone even if the two of you are very, very different?” asked Miss Edna.

To say that Hancock was invested in this conversation would be an abhorrent understatement. He watched as Sole tensed up and paused, his breathe baited.

Sole chuckled under her breathe before relaxing. “If you love someone, hold onto them. Don’t be afraid to tell them and remind them; the outside world is harsh and bleak and dangerous; tomorrow you might not have the chance. At the end of the day the differences between the two of you that might seem so big and scary, they’ll fade into nothing and you’ll regret the opportunities that you pass on more than the actions that you take…”

The floating robot bobbed anxiously. “Oh no, I’ve made you sad again!”

Sole shook her head. “No it’s fine. It’s not you. Just here I am giving advice that I’ve been to skittish to apply to my own life… I mean what I said though.”

“I… Thank you. You have helped me make up my mind about something.”

The two of them exchanged goodbyes but all Hancock could hear was rushing water in his ears. He couldn’t even acknowledge the fact that his theory on sordid robot love affairs might’ve been a guess in the right direction. He was much too distracted by Sole’s advice and the story that seemed to be hidden in her words. Is that what I need to do then? Hancock wanted nothing more than to take a hit of jet and maybe a handful of mentats to figure this out. It felt like her words were for me…

He hadn’t even noticed that he had robotically followed Sole out of the building until he bumped into her and pulled his spinning conscience back into his body. “Sorry…” he muttered.

Sole giggled for a moment before her face turned to concern. “Hancock… are you okay? I’m sorry! I took a bit longer than I thought and-”

Hancock shook his head. “Wasn’t that.”

“Then it was…?” Sole prompted.

“I…” Hancock fished for a way to run away from the conversation that seemed to be looming over their heads. But that’s what I’ve always been doing. This isn’t something I want to lose just because I’m as skittish as a brahmin. “Do we… do you got a sec? I need you to hear something.”

“Of course. I always have time for my favorite ghoul.”

Sole’s gentle smile had Hancock clenching his fists. Power through. Power through! Just fucking do it. Don’t fuck this up and chicken out like a shit, you stupid fuck.

“Is everything all right?”

Hancock nodded. “Yeah. Better than that even. This is just… tricky.” This was an entirely new area for Hancock and it wouldn’t be wrong to say that he felt like he was drowning a bit. But as Sole’s eyes board into his own, Hancock found himself feeling no reason to hide what was going on in his head anymore. “It’s just that being out here with you…” With one final breathe Hancock spilled his heart; he found that laying his feelings bare wasn’t as bad as he thought – at least not with Sole being the ever attentive listener. Sure it was stilted and painful for him for the first few moments but as he watched Sole’s face and noted the growing happiness that swelled behind her eyes as he waxed on about how traveling with her had made him so happy showed him so much. He had run so many times before but this time he didn’t want to and he wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

“Maybe in the end,” Hancock concluded, “all my running wasn’t so bad after all. Not if it meant that I could end up with you.” He was so close. Just a couple more words and he could reveal the romantic feelings that he harbored for his companion, his vault dweller in blue that showed up and knocked his boots right off.

Sole interrupted Hancock’s internal turmoil. “You know they always say that your past is your past and as long as you’ve learned from it and leave it there then you can forge ahead. All that matters is what you do from here on out.”

Her eyes so sincere and kind, Hancock immediately felt skittish. It would only make sense that he do what he knew how to do best: dodge, deflect, and joke. “Heh. I know a lot of bookies that would disagree with you,” he smiled and whipped out the bravado “but I feel what you’re getting at… Throwing in with you has been the best decision I’ve ever made. It’s like I found a part of myself that I never realized was missing… which happens sometimes when you’re a ghoul.”

“Hancock?” He could only blink at Sole in confusion. “You’re doing that thing again – joking like that to deflect from your emotions,” she explained as she tilted her head. “What’s really going on in that head of yours?”

“It’s just… if I hadn’t taken up with you I’d probably be in a gutter somewhere, getting gnawed on by radroaches.”

“And now you’re dodging,” she muttered with a pout.

Hancock couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve been one hell of a friend.”

Sole bit her lip; Hancock was very interested in the way that her eyes darted around. “Just…” She had started to ask something, but it trailed off into a low mumble.

“Come again?”

“It’s – have you ever thought of us as being more than friends?”

“… come again?”

Sole’s worried face turned to a glaring one. “I know you heard me, Hancock. You don’t have to mock me.”

“I’m not!” Hancock assured with raised hands. “You just kind of… snuck up on me there.” They locked eyes and Hancock sighed. “Come on. You don’t wanna have to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for…”

“That’s such fucking bullshit to say, John.” Hancock jumped at the use of his first name and the fire in Sole’s voice. “In case you haven’t noticed, we’ve been traveling together for a long time now and I’ve found waking up to that mug every morning to be extremely pleasant, I’ll have you know. I like you as you are right now; inside and out, I wish you could see yourself from my point of view,” Sole admitted. “And… as long as you don’t run out on me-”

“You just keep being you and that’ll never happen,” Hancock interrupted. His nerves were fraying and his pulse was in his mouth (he’d kill for a hit of jet at this moment but he didn’t dare), and he couldn’t stand to let her worry about something like that for a moment.

Sole sighed. “It’s just that I’ve been so invested in relationships where people have checked out and abandoned me and it wasn’t… fun. But if that’s a promise from John Hancock himself then I suppose I’ll just have to hold it to him.”

Hancock couldn’t fend off the smile. “Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull because no one like me should be this lucky.”

With a giggle, Sole jumped forward to grab his hand. “Funny that you’ve echoed my sentiments exactly. But tell me, John, why bring this up now?”

“Well,” Hancock pulled Sole closer, “I overheard your conversation with that ‘bot-”

“Miss Edna,” Sole admonished.

“-Miss Edna, and your speech about loving someone and the differences between you and your love actually being smaller than what they seem – it gave me hope. Or inspired enough romantic stupidity. Something along those lines,” Hancock joked.

“Semantics.” Sole rolled her eyes.

With a chuckle, Hancock kissed Sole’s hand. “Come on, love. Let’s get this freakshow on the road.”

[fallout4holmes]

Journal 32

Valentine and Hancock took the opportunity to catch up on each other's respective cities as we walked to Goodneighbor. Danse was silent at first, encased in his armor, but after a while asked, “Holmes, the ghoul - er, Hancock - mentioned you traveled with a super mutant?”

I explained how I met Rex Goodman and Strong. Danse was incredulous. When I went on to explain that Strong was now travelling between Minutemen settlements with a seamstress, he was nearly furious.

“You assigned an unarmed civilian to accompany a delusional abomination?!”

“Of course she’s armed, and Strong isn’t going to eat her, Danse. If he tires of humans, he’ll just leave.”

“You can’t be certain of that! How can you trust a super mutant?”

“He was stationed at the Castle without incident, and then in the western settlements after. He never attacked any human that didn’t attack him first. Hancock and I traveled with him, and I am certain he is blindly dedicated to his quest for the milk of human kindness, which means he can’t go around killing every human he sees.”

“This is insane.”

“It’s not as though I’m opening the gates to any super mutant who wants in. Strong is an exception. He is an… aberration among his kind. He likes Macbeth, for heaven’s sake. He is brutal and barbaric, but not an immediate danger to any human. He has no qualms about fighting his ‘brothers.’”

“Brothers?”

“That’s how he refers to other super mutants.”

“Speakin’ of Strong’s brothers…” Hancock said.

Sure enough, the sound of automatic fire and super mutant shouting could be heard over the blast of a laser rifle in the distance. Danse moved forward, “I’m on point, you three fall in behind and to the sides. Stick to the shadows; I’ll draw fire.”

No one argued, though Hancock cursed when he saw who the super mutants were fighting.

A Brotherhood Scribe tended to a fallen Initiate while a Knight fired upon the mutants across the street. The cavalry came in the form of a vertibird, quickly shot down to crash between skyscrapers, its pilot crawling from the wreckage, miraculously alive for the moment. Danse and I didn’t hesitate, attacking the mutants directly and creating a second front. Valentine made his way toward the pilot, shooting at a mutant hound before it could finish the wounded man. Hancock joined us, firing his shotgun point blank at every mutant he could, leaving a bloody mess in his wake. The Brotherhood Knight continued his attack with deadly accuracy, though I suspect he also wasn’t too concerned with not hitting us as well.

When the last mutant fell and the dust settled, the Knight was less than thrilled to see who had lent a helping hand. “Thanks for the assist… what the hell?”

A panicked cry came from the pilot. Valentine was on a knee beside him, his hands up in an attempt to be non-threatening. “Easy friend. I know the face ain’t comforting, but I promise I’m only trying to help. You’re in bad shape.”

The Knight stormed toward him, “Get away, you abomination.”

“Well, good afternoon to you, too,” Valentine stood slowly. “He’s bleeding out and both his legs are broken. You gonna let me give him a stimpak or leave him to suffer?”

“We don’t need help from freaks,” the Knight said, turning to encompass Hancock in the insult.

“Watch your mouth, friend,” Hancock snarled, “it's getting you in trouble.”

Danse knelt by the pilot, to everyone’s surprise. Valentine handed him the stimpak, which Danse promptly used to stop the man’s bleeding. “Does your Scribe require assistance,” he asked in a quick monotone.

“He’s keeping Initiate Nelson alive,” said the Knight.

“That isn’t what I asked.”

“Unless you’re a doctor, there’s nothing else you can do here.” The Knight surveyed the soldier before him as Danse stood up. “Didn't think Minutemen use armor.”

“I prefer it. The General approved.”

I stood beside Danse, “Indeed, why shouldn't any Minuteman who can salvage a suit put it to good use?”

The Knight looked at me. “Strange coincidence, an armored soldier joining the Minutemen after the synth you were supposed to kill is conveniently disintegrated.”

“Are you suggesting that Elder Maxson is a fool, or a liar?”

“Ooh,” Hancock chuckled from his position behind us, “dissension in the ranks.”

The Knight was unamused, “He doesn't have to be a fool to be fooled. It's no secret he and the traitor were close. If a devious false brother planted the evidence he wanted to see, he might not look as closely at the lie as he would any other time.”

“Awful lot of ‘ifs',” Valentine lit a cigarette, “not to mention a pretty clear picture of who that false brother would have to be.”

“Why do you find it so much more likely that I faked Danse's death and ran,” I challenged, “rather than the fact that Danse is dead and I couldn't stomach Brotherhood philosophy any further? Paladin Danse was a loyal soldier to the end. He did nothing to betray the Brotherhood except exist, and confronting him about his true nature was one of the most difficult things I have ever done. Maxson was there; he followed me because he doubted I would finish the deed. Either I am the best liar in history, or your Elder himself would have to be complicit in this ridiculous conspiracy. If you haven't any proof to support your paranoia, we have nothing further to say to each other. Shall we, gentlemen?”

We made it a few paces before the Knight shouted, “Danse!”

“With you?” Hancock called back, “No way I'm high enough for that!”

Once we were a few blocks further, Hancock nudged Danse's arm, “Shit, crew cut, they really got your number. What the hell did you see in a bunch of racist bastards anyway?”

“Hope for humanity and a chance to make a difference in the world.”

Hancock scoffed, “Don't see why hope for humanity means killing all the freaks like me - or you.”

“It made sense at the time.”

Hancock paused a moment before he said, “Look, brother, I get that ain't you anymore. I just can't wrap my head around it. Plenty of folks wanna make life hard for people just tryin' to survive. I'm not willing to stand for that kinda shit.”

Danse was skeptical, “Does that extend to your own citizens?”

“Got a real simple policy in Goodneighbor. If someone needs help, I help 'em. If someone needs hurting, I hurt 'em. It's not hard. Folks know what they're getting into when they walk into my town, and if they don't, then they learn real fast.”

It was nearing sunset when Goodneighbor’s neon sign greeted us. Danse stared at it a moment and said, “With all due minimal respect, Hancock, what the hell?”

“I know, wasn’t my first choice for colors, but do you have any idea how hard it was to rig that thing?”

“I was referring to the fact that there is a giant sign announcing the presence of your den of criminals in the first place.”

“Hey, not all of ‘em are criminals. Drifters, outcasts, freaks, anyone who doesn’t have a home to call their own. Besides, who the fuck are we supposed to be hiding from? Someone wants to take us out?” He smiled sinisterly, “Just let them try.”

We went inside, and Hancock sighed, “Home sweet home. Oh, crew cut, friendly tip. Security here is strictly ‘do it yourself’... but I'm guessing you won't have to worry about that. Everyone’s welcome as long as they play nice. Goodneighbor is of the people, for the people, you feel me?”

Though it was impossible to tell, I'm certain Danse was scowling at his surroundings. “Understood,” he said.

“I'm gonna head up to the office, take care of some ‘pending mayoral business.’ Look around, I'll catch up to you later.”

As Hancock went inside the State House, I said to Danse, “At the very least we should restock on ammunition and supplies. Then there's a friend of mine I'd like to check in with.”

“Affirmative… a friend? Here?”

“More of a former business associate. First things first, for ammunition you'll want to talk to Kleo, and for everything else see her neighbor, Daisy.”

Daisy was more than happy to meet the man who put Trashcan Carla in her place for insulting a ghoul, and pleased to hear Al, “the Vault-Tec ghoul,” was doing well. Apparently gossip travels among the caravans. Kleo unsuccessfully flirted when Danse expressed interest in some of her heavier weaponry, but ultimately he decided to simply stock up on fusion cells. Our supply needs met, I led the way to the Memory Den.

The proprietress was lounging in her usual position. “Good evening, Irma, is Kent in?”

“Where else would he be?” She smiled, “He’ll be happy to see you, sugar…” she stood as her attention drifted to the two men behind me, “... well, well! Hello, Nick.”

Valentine grinned, “Irma. Let me introduce the Lt. Colonel of the Minutemen.”

Danse removed his helmet, “Ma’am.”

“Welcome. And call me Irma, dear. Of course, if the rest of what's under the armor matches the eyes, you call me whatever you want.”

“I… appreciate the compliment. Exactly what sort if establishment is this?”

Irma laughed, “Relax, sugar, I'm harmless.”

“Wouldn't say that,” Valentine muttered.

“Oh hush, Nick,” she playfully scolded.

I left her to the explanation of her business while I looked in on Kent. He’d just finished introducing an episode where the Silver Shroud encounters a villain called “The Mechanist,” and greeted me with a smile. “Shroud! Long time no see. How’re things?”

“Doing well, Kent. Remarkably busy.”

“I bet. After destroying the Institute, being a General and all, and a detective, I bet you don’t have a bit of spare time.”

I laughed, “Some days it seems that way. Word has spread about the Agency?”

“There was a story in Public Occurrences a while back, that’s how I knew. Sometimes Diamond City Radio mentions you too. What brought you back to Goodneighbor?”

“Passing through, escorting your wayward Mayor home.”

“I sure do appreciate you stopping by. Is the suit still working ok? Oh, but I guess you don't use it a lot these days.”

“I do not, but it is still perfectly intact and functional. You did some impressive work, Kent.”

He smiled, “Thanks.”

We heard Hancock's voice from the other room, “There's two of you. Where'd Trouble get to?”

“Mayor Hancock,” Irma intercepted. “I don't often see you in my parlor.”

“Nothin’ personal. Just not my kind of high.” I could imagine; dwelling on the past held no appeal for that man.

“A moment, Hancock,” I called and turned to Kent. “I should be going. It was good to see you.”

“Sure thing Shroud,” we shook hands, “same to you.”

I joined my companions, we bid a good night to Irma, and followed the grinning Hancock out the door. “Come on fellas,” he said, “drinks are on me.”

“Which means they're on the house,” Valentine said.

Hancock shrugged, “Well, yeah, I own the joint, so same thing.”

As we descended into the Third Rail, Valentine said to Danse in a low voice, “Watch your caps in this place. Folks behind the bar are as likely to rob you as those in front of it.”

“You don't have to be a detective to see that much,” Danse grumbled back. Valentine chuckled.

An intoxicated patron made some comment about the “king of the ghouls” being back in town, prompting Hancock to smile, “It’s good to be home. What's worth drinkin' today, Chuck?”

The uniquely Cockney Mr. Handy behind the bar swiveled in surprise. “Mayor Hancock! I'm so sorry. I didn't know you'd be coming in today. We're out of your usual.”

“Don't sweat it, Chuck,” Hancock leaned against the bar. “Just gimme whatever tastes the least like it's been aged in a shoe.” He was handed a glass of something that might have been beer. “Here,” Hancock attempted to pay, but he was refused.

“Please, Mayor Hancock. I can't take your money.”

“Can't say I didn't try,” Hancock laughed, “Thanks Chuck. Oh, those three are with me.”

“What's the word, Charlie?” Valentine said as we joined the Mayor.

“Valentine. You actually gonna buy something this time?”

Valentine was amused, “It'd be a chilly day in hell before I buy any of your swill. So, anyone new in need of finding?”

“None that didn't want it or have it coming.”

This was clearly a routine between them. “Always the humanitarian, ain't ya, Chuck?”

“Set the humans up with whatever the hell you gave me is,” Hancock said with a grin, “and put it on my tab.”

You could almost hear a pained sigh. “Comin’ up.”

Danse, realizing he was taking up a large amount of limited space, moved to a corner to exit his armor. We joined him as Magnolia took the stage. Hancock and Valentine enjoyed the show while Danse and I spoke quietly.

“General, I wanted to apologize for my behavior earlier. I didn’t mean to usurp your command. I shouldn’t have let my emotions override my duty.”

“You mean when we were fighting mutants? For heaven's sake, you are far better equipped than I to issue battlefield instructions. As for your reaction to Strong, I expected as much. You have every reason to hate mutants, and to doubt my admittedly questionable judgement concerning this one.” I managed a swallow of the poor excuse for beer I was holding before setting it on the table and switching to a cigarette. “Now. What’s really troubling you?”

“Is it that obvious?” he asked, chagrined.

“Only because I know you,” I assured him, and waited.

“… I used to sound like that. The Knight.”

“‘Get away, you abomination?’”

He nodded. “He didn’t react the way I expected.” 

It took me a moment to realize to whom he was referring. “Valentine? He’s had a century of practice maintaining dignity in the face of hate.”

Danse took a large swallow of his beer, grimaced, and set it next to mine. “It was difficult to hear, now that I’m one of those abominations.”

I put my hand on Danse’s shoulder, “As Hancock said, ‘that ain’t you anymore.’ And if he can see that, anyone can.”

Magnolia finished her performance to rousing applause. “Hey, Holmes,” Hancock grinned, “should we try to set the soldier up?” He nodded toward Magnolia.

Danse rolled his eyes. “No, thank you.”

“Not your type,” Hancock nodded, making mental note, “got it.”

“Hancock, stop trying to make me relax.”

“I’m concerned! Can’t be healthy having posture that good all the time.”

“The possibility that you would be at all concerned with what’s healthy and what isn’t is laughable.”

“Alright you two,” Valentine stood. I noticed he wavered a bit, the effort greater than it should have been. “Hancock, the humans are gonna need a place to sleep.”

Hancock scoffed, “Hotel Rexford belongs to Marowski. Not even my charm can crack those rates. Of course, there's always the couch in my office,” he leered at Danse. Danse didn't try to hide his disgust, prompting a wicked laugh from Hancock. As Danse entered his armor, he asked, “Seriously though, crew cut, when was the last time you got laid?”

“Five days ago, before I left Sanctuary.”

Hancock was thunderstruck. “Shit, seriously?” He chased after Danse as he left the bar, “A tin soldier is getting more action than I am?! That just doesn’t seem right. Course, I was on the road with your General…”

I held Valentine back a moment, “Are you alright?”

“Just a couple gears acting up…” he sighed at my frown. “I’ll be fine. Let’s catch up before Hancock annoys Danse enough to say something he’ll regret.”

We secured the sole available room at the Rexford (not even the Mayor dares push the patiencel of Ms. Hutchins, the elderly receptionist - a deathclaw would be cowed by her glare.) Hancock bade us goodnight and good luck on our journey to the Castle in the morning.

Valentine is running a diagnostic; it's taking longer than usual. He assures me he's perfectly capable of making the trip to the Castle and then Murkwater, but I can't help but worry. I have to put it from my mind and try to rest.

[purkinje-effect]

The Purkinje Effect, 31

Table of Contents

‘Choly and Geek both shook off once they got inside the Statehouse, and exchanged glances when each noticed the other doing so. After looking to the spiral staircase, ‘Choly put a hand to the Mister Handy’s spherical side and gave it a vague nod. It halved its thrusters to hover lower long enough for ‘Choly to hoist himself up atop its back via its harness,  somewhat like mounting a horse. The three of them then scaled the stairs.

“Holy moly.” One of the Neighborhood Watchmen on duty inside had recognized ‘Choly. “It ain’t true, is it? You ripped off Hancock? You gotta death wish or somethin’?”

The Russian paused halfway up the stairs to glance down at the guard dully.

“Maybe so.”

Unable to interpret his acquaintance’s demeanor as they resumed their ascent, Geek wondered whether ‘Choly had grown tired of hearing about it, or if this was the way the dreg exhibited pride. Rather than dissect it, Geek’s brain fixated again on the bar argument. Shaking, he started into a fresh cigarette, and put the pack back in his sleeve pocket.

When’s your flavor gonna run out, Blue?

“–He’s gonna be heading out soon. Probably wants me to go with.”

“Do you want to go with him?”

“Course I do. ...Provided he still wants me to.”

“How long?”

“Dunno, a couple–” Hancock and Fahr both looked up when ‘Choly dismounted from his Handy. The ghoul mayor stopped pacing and patted at the back of the couch with an odd smile. “Now this is unexpected.”

“I had a bright idea.” ‘Choly took one of the armchairs. “Mmh, we. We did. We wanted to discuss it with you.”

When Geek sat beside Fahr, Hancock leaned lackadaisically on the back of the empty couch to dull his anxiousness.

“You two have my undivided attention.”

Fahr nursed a fat cigar, which Geek stole and traded for his cigarette. In a moment of disconnect, she briefly weighed the safeness of smoking after him, but shrugged it off with only minor nuisance. The musky heaviness of the cigar’s smoke felt outright viscous versus that of the cigarettes, and it soothed him enough to unclench.

“We wanna take back the Boston Library,” Geek began before ‘Choly could get a word in. “Put this lil’... entourage to the test.”

“A proposal for the three of us to work toward a common goal?” Hancock’s thoughtful interest diffused into concern poorly hid behind a smile. “This is way bigger than a problem with rats in warehouses. It’s all right if you need some time before we try to tackle somethin’ like that.”

An implicit ‘I know you’re jumping on this because you can’t sit still’ lingered behind Hancock’s dark ghoulish eyes, and it ate the pink ghoul alive. Geek took a long, slow hit off the cigar in an attempt to steady his breathing, and he didn’t speak or make eye contact before he’d fully exhaled all the smoke.

“This is gonna be so good for Goodneighbor, an’ it’s gonna be good for me. I owe it to this town, an’ I owe it t’Daisy. An’ I... I owe it to you. You navigated that sh, shh. Shitshow when my health was too bad for me to stand up for myself. You’re responsible for me gettin’ cured just as much as the guy who made the cure an’ gave it to me. I’m confident I wouldn’t be here right now if it hadn’t been for you playin’ interference for me.”

No one knew what to say, the only sound the Handy’s thruster as it idled near the doorway.

“Daisy put you up to this, then,” Hancock deduced. He jumped the couch and helped himself to the tin of Mentats on the coffee table. As he slouched on his knees, he let a lozenge melt under his tongue. His hands wandered to fidget with all manner of paraphernalia before him, navigating them as he thought through imagined tactics. “She always has tried to foster chemistry when she thinks it’s off to a rocky start.”

The mayor had nailed not only whose idea it had been, but also how she’d even figured out the trio was soon to become one. When Geek folded in embarrassment of that level of transparency, ‘Choly glanced between the two ghouls in consternation, interpreting the mayor’s description of the merchant’s motives as implicit of Geek and Hancock having hit a bad patch. Had he got himself between a lovers’ tiff?

“Surely you agree with Geek that Goodneighbor stands to gain a lot with this venture. I think we all stand to gain a lot from a library.” The chemist smirked at him coyly. “Can you handle two companions on such an errand, Mayor?”

“I sure as hell wouldn’t go it alone, that’s for sure.” The mayor exchanged a knowing look with Fahrenheit before he reclined back where he sat. “I can tell the two of you have thought this over beforehand, so it’s less a matter of whether this is going to happen and more a matter of how. What kind of game plan are we talking?”

“We, we really ha--” Geek shot ‘Choly a sour look, and the chemist knew he had to improvise. “Well, even if we could just walk in an unlocked front door, I believe that’s not the best recourse. I don’t fare well guns blazing, and even if both of you do, from the sound of it... there’s definitely more super mutants in there than two humans could take at once. I know Angel’s going to be useful here, but we could still get easily swarmed. If I remember right, there’s a subway station underneath the library. We could try to sneak in through the subway and pick off as many of them as we can before they get wind of us.”

“’If you remember right’?” Geek rubbed at his forehead, irritated. “What, you got a photographic memory of prewar blueprints or somethin’?”

“Hey, now. You’re the one putting me on the spot. I’ve been in downtown Boston, and I know the subway made stops at the library. I just don’t remember exactly where the next closest station is, so we could travel below street level.”

“From what I know of subways,” Hancock contemplated, the brain drugs doing a lot of finger-walking across mental maps, “there’s more than one route, and any given train was supposed to only travel on one of them. If there’s a subway station under the library, I’m sure it’s on the same route as Fenway Station and Park Street Station, spatially speaking. I can tell you right here from experience that Fenway’s inaccessible. So that leaves Park Street. Except Geek’s not gonna like that.”

When Geek didn’t get it, Fahr interjected with fatigue, “That’s on the Common.”

“--Hhfuck no. No.”

Geek got up and paced, face broken with grief, but Hancock was still thinking.

“Don’t worry, I don’t like the idea either, but not for a fear of birds. --No, actually, now come to think of it, that’ll be perfect. Though 'Choly, just to rule it out, you don’t think we could just get into the station at the library from street level?”

“I think coming into the building anywhere near the street doors is more likely to give us away prematurely. Entering the subway that close is too risky.”

“So’s wearing all that fur, to address the elephant in the room.”

Fahr matter-of-factly handed Geek her cigarette butt. He swallowed it with a shit-eating grin that somebody had burned ‘Choly over the unnecessary level of pomp, then savored another puff on his cigar. When even Hancock laughed, ‘Choly turned beet red and mashed his ushanka hat into his lap with both hands.

“Aw, y’all, let him have his fancy duds. He dresses to impress. I respect that.” Hancock grinned at ‘Choly. “Really, though. You think going to the loading platform in Park Street Station and rounding west down the tunnels is the best way to go?”

“I do.”

Geek swallowed his smoke butt and with a thought abruptly pointed at ‘Choly.

“What if the tunnel’s collapsed?”

The Russian gave him a brittle shrug.

“We’ll double back, then. We’ve got to rule out the option. I can’t promise an ideal and effortless clean-out going in the back way, but I can guarantee you it’ll get messy if we just walk in the front door.”

“Well, if you two are so committed to this, who am I to deny you?” Hancock chuckled and patted his knees, then stood. “We should rest up, then, take stock of what we might need. I wanna make an early morning of it, though, so before we part ways for the night, I gotta ask how your supply is, of that stuff you used on Fahr. Seems real useful for what all we’re settin’ out to do.”

“Today has been exhausting,” ‘Choly agreed too quickly. “I’m glad I haven’t had the chance yet to unpack everything in my room. Saves me from having to pack up for this. The Lockjoint, though? Mh, haven’t used it on super mutants before, but I don’t see why it wouldn’t work. I should still have a few left. Though, they’re a bit difficult to craft. ...I’ll see what I can scrape together.”

“I could drop everything and go right now,” Geek bluffed. “But I know y’all both need your beauty sleep.”

Fahr rolled her eyes at him.

“You look like I could push you over and you’d pass out snoring, pink stuff.”

“Rest wouldn’t be out of the question,” Hancock insisted, wrapping his arms around Geek. “Come on. You can stay upstairs tonight if you want.”

Attention piqued, the pink ghoul brightened right up, and Hancock brushed the bridge of what was left of his nose against the tip of Geek’s, seeking a kiss.

“We’ll give you two some privacy,” Fahr jabbed, dragging ‘Choly away when he wouldn’t excuse himself, the Handy following. “Sleaze an’ I say goodnight.”

“--Hey now,” ‘Choly objected as the door shut behind them.

“You were talkin’ with Fahr about... well, me before I came in.” Geek pulled away but didn’t squirm out of Hancock’s embrace. “You don’t have to go with me to the evaluation, if you don’t want to. An’ I don’t gotta sleep upstairs if you don’t want me to.”

“Of course I want to accompany you.” His cheek went to Geek’s. “And I very much want you to.”

“It’s okay if y’gettin’ tired of me. I’m a lot.”

“I could say the exact same of me. Everybody’s a different kind of a lot. You haven’t given me a single reason to cut you loose, and I don’t foresee you giving me one.” Hancock grinned at him, looked him in the eye. “Just ‘cause I’ve been giving you your space doesn’t mean I’m going anywhere.”

Geek melted into fully hugging him before pulling away, smiling tiredly at him.

“Sleep does sound good about now, to be fair.”

Hancock dragged him to the floor atop a sleeping bag in the corner.

“That makes two of us.”

[ghostphilia]

DP x Fallout Crossover: Ch 2

Chapter 1 here

Nora Taylor used to practice law before all this. She hadn’t been in the game in a while, but she was going to come back after Shaun’s birth. She was going to defend the rights of the people in a country that kept trampling them by selling the individual to corporations and using war as an excuse. She was going to make a change in society, and she was going to protect the weak, and she was going to raise a beautiful, smart, young boy with Nate, the love of her life. Yeah right.

She couldn’t help but let a loud laugh course through her whole body as she went through her thoughts, standing at the edge of the glowing sea. Nick Valentine was beside her, silent and eyeing her thoroughly, but not looking an inch more surprised than usual. He was used to Nora’s chagrin. He wasn’t quite as human as everyone else around him, but he would have eaten his mangled Stetson hat if he didn’t know Nora like the back of his trench coat by now. The lass had increasingly become more and more haunting since the day she had first stepped foot in his office with an impossible request. He couldn’t even fathom what kind of mental process one had to go through to shift from loving mother in a (relatively) tender world to one of the most ruthless, dangerous wastelanders currently in the commonwealth, but for Nora to make the cut, something had to have broken up or fizzled out in the central processing unit. Not that it didn’t make her any less good of a friend, or human being, no. Just a little trigger-happy and with the occasional psychotic outburst.

 Nora knew what nick was thinking whenever he gave her the long looks. She chuckled, seemingly unparsed by her own inner misery.

 “Ready to get out there again Nick? Haven’t set foot in this place in a while, didn’t really have much of an excuse to visit since our friend Virgil went all human again, I forgot how charming it was.” She chuckled again, hysterically. Nick kept being silent, near her, waiting her to calm down. She exhaled, and ran a hand through dirty, short red hair “All right all right, sorry for the little show there, it’s just been, what, one year? Wow.” She exhaled, composing herself inside her rad-resistant power armour. Nick nodded, making a small underhanded but affectionate comment about loosing screws. She didn’t need to specify. It had been one year since the both of them had traveled all the way into the glowing sea to find Virgil, a super mutant scientist. In a few weeks time, it would have been one year since she destroyed the institute, and murdered her own son.

 They were off to the glowing sea on a mission from the minutemen, a now growing force for good within the commonwealth. Nora hadn’t taken the position of leadership Preston had offered her, but she still helped out from time to time, made sure the group didn’t mess around again like before. She trusted Preston, but the guy was still way too emotional to handle things on his own.

 There had been a suddenly huge afflux of children of atom pilgrims, coming from all sides or the commonwealth and beyond, converging into the place of worship Nora understood as ground zero, Atom’s Crater. Most of them were harmless, but many had disrupted commonwealth settlements by acting violent towards non-believers, or bringing in radiation. Some brought with them chained glowing ones as offerings and items of worship, and more than a few times those ghouls had gotten loose, ending up in a bloodbath and a lot of radiation poisoning. Nora had dealt with the children before, and had found them mostly harmless, but these numbers had started to make her worried. The crazy worshippers might be weak from radiation sickness half the time, and hallucinating the other half, but now they were crazy and with an army, one that was hard to fight, since it was located in a place most people would be mad to even try to approach.

 She had popped her helmet on and moved forwards. They had traded a few essential quips as they moved inside the green storm. At the end of a day’s walk, something would shut both of their mouths entirely.

 The crater of Atom wasn’t just a crater any longer. It was a small town. She couldn’t even fathom where the children were able to scavenge that many supplies within a radioactive desert, but there it was… If these people hadn’t multiple times proved to be completely insane, she would have even felt some sort of awe, or innate respect, for what they were able to accomplish.

 Two men had stopped them in front of some sort of gates. They had erected a wall around the town borders, which Nora assumed wasn’t to protect from fellow men, since the only people roaming the glowing sea were the children themselves. Deathclaws, on the other hand, might’ve been increasingly attracted by the growing populace.

 “Hail Atom, travelers. You come to worship his holy vessel?”

 Nick and Nora had given each other a quick comedic glance.

 “We’ve come to meet with your leader, Mother Isolde. They know me, We’ve met a year ago. Although… she’s never really said anything about a holy vessel? What, has she been up somebody’s pants lately? Cause if so good for her.” Nora added commented in a half sarcastic tone. The guard dislodged him mandible, looking personally affronted.

 “Would you dare speak heresy against the mother and holy vessel? Atoms fury will rain upon all that..”

 He was stopped by Nick Valentine’s loud, raspy groan.

 “Remind me of why I travel with you again?”  He said, his voice grouchier than usual as he stepped up in front of Nora, trying to hide her as much as possible

 “Look Buddy, you’ve got to forgive my partner here, she talks a big mouth but could probably use a bit of atoms wisdom.” He put extra stress on the last part, turning around to glare at her. “You see, me and my partner here don’t mean you guys and your god no harm. We are just here to trade a few words with the good mother, representing the minutemen. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen this many children out in the commonwealth, and since we are neighbours and all I think we oughta figure out a way to help each other, don’t you?”

 “As far as I’m concerned heretics like you should be banned from the holy site.” The guard hissed. “But we shall see what Mother has to say.” He nudged his head towards his radiation blaster, then motioned at the duo to follow him through the gates.

 Not everyone in the village looked like the usual children of atom worshipper. Some seemed to be new, and had just begun loosing their hair. Some were actual children, which made Nora’s stomach turn in disgust. Children had no way of making a crazy religious choice for themselves. Were these guys recruiting orphans and sending them to their deaths?

 “I’ve seen some of these people before, in the commonwealth. Pretty bold move to choose to leave everything behind for this.” Nick had commented off handedly as they approached the center of the crater, giving nora the quick glance that usually meant he suspected something rotten. Nora couldn’t be more inclined to agree. These ‘new people’ seemed to be there of their own will, but why such a sudden conversion to such a crazy religion. This village had walls now. They might have kept bad things out, but they could also hold things in. Did it have to do with something this.. vessel.. the guard was talking about.

 “Atom’s will is great, and he has blessed us with a grand gift. Even the stubborn nonbelievers can now see into his glory. Look for yourself.” The guard added smugly, as they approached the central crater.

 Surrounded by dozens of men and women in prayer, was a pool of radioactive water Nora was familiar with. What she wasn’t familiar with was the pedestal of glowing trinkets at its center, upholding something that was objectively just plain weird.

 It was the most vivid blue crystal she had ever seen. She would almost have confused it for ice if not for the fact that she hadn’t seen actual ice ever since she’d gotten out of her cryo-pod and that, well, the crystal seemed to be glowing. The most stunning thing though, was not the glow in the ice itself, but the bright, ethereal white light, outlining a human figure, trapped inside the crystalline obelisk.

 “Behold, foreigners, Atoms holy corpse. That is the vessel all here come to worship.” The guard phrased slowly, stopping in his step reverently. “You will be quiet and wait now, for Mother Isolde is about to give a sermon. We will meet her as she is finished.”

 Nora remembered Isolde. She had looked humble, crazy of course, but reasonable enough. That was not the way she looked now, as she walked out of a balcony, above ‘the relic’. What she looked now, was possessed. It was as if something within that glowing crystal had caused her to snap, well, snap more than she had already snapped before. Nora had been on the brink of loosing it a few times herself, and quite frankly, seeing Isolde’s face like that was driving it home a little too much.

 As she had reached the edge of the balcony, she had raised her hands to the sky, her long green robes flowing across her arms like wings. The whole town had quieted down, leaving only the sound of a few chants lost in the radioactive wind.

 “Six months ago, dear children, a few of our devoted found the Holy Vessel within the glowing pools of the west”

  “Six Months ago, we were lost in his glow, dear children, we were asking for his love. We were battling the non-believers, suffering to prove our faith. But we were unseen, unconnected, unloved. Yet fret not, for Atom is great, and his love infinite. For now, Atom has found us!”

 She paused, looking towards the sky, and lowering her arms onto the crowd.

 “Six months ago, I have gazed into Atom’s endless green eyes. Atom himself showed me a vision, through his body. He has given us a great gift, and bestowed upon us a great duty. For he will descend upon the earth, and he shall descend within this vessel. Dear children Atom wishes to live among us. Together, he wills to guide us through Division. Thus we must worship him, until he is resurrected. We must worship him and sacrifice for him, so that he may walk amongst us.”

 At this point, Isolde was visibly shaking.

 “He has spoken to me. He feeds on our feelings, asks for our pain, and we must answer to him. Each day we must. None will be like us in history. We are Atom’s chosen! We shall worship him, we shall save him, and he will save us!”

 And with that, she lifted some form of staff into the air, and the crowd exploded in a huge roar.

 “Tomorrow, we begin the ritual of awakening. Bless you All! May Atom be with you!” She erupted madly, retreating away from the balcony. The crowd remained in unrest, chanting furiously and making noise. The guard escorting Nora and Nick grabbed both of their arms to make sure they would not escape in the chaos, and led them towards the main hub. After waiting for a small time in a separate room, Nora was asked to step out of her power armour. Radiation levels seemed to be lower in the crater, and she didn’t want to start shooting just yet, so she begrudgingly accepted after popping a few pills of Rad-X. They were lead into the Mother’s residence. She awaited them while sitting. Meditating.

 “Welcome, wanderers” She smiled, politely facing them. “I see we have met before, you vanquished the heretic for us, way back. Brother Adam here tells me you have come to bargain for the Minutemen. How lucky for you to be here again, at such a great time of our lord’s awakening.”

 “Well that’s a way of putting it” Nick mumbled in the back.

 Nora stared down at Isolde. “Lady I have about a million questions more at this point that have absolutely nothing to do with what Preston asked me to do, but yes, let’s just say I’ve come to bargain.” She crouched down in front of her, relaxing, completely ignoring the tension in the room.

 “I see you’ve been stacking up quite a community here. Odd place to be at but hey, you guys seem to immune to this stuff, so good for you. Us ‘normal’…” She wiggled her fingers as if to say she was not normal at all “…people in the commonwealth though… well, let’s just say some of us don’t like all this radiation flying around? Some of your caravans have been harming our settlements, and well, we don’t really want to start preparing defenses against them if we can help it. We’d rather come to some form of agreement with your pilgrims, you feel? They stay away from our territories, and we make sure the roads to the glowing sea are safe to travel.  We could also exchange trades while we are at it. That’s just one of a few ideas.” She smirked.

 Isolde, oddly enough, seemed to be matching Nora’s smirk. Except for the mad glint in one of her eyes.

 “These seem all excellent ideas my child, but I am afraid they will have to wait. Tomorrow is a great day for our community, and none can tell what shall come after it, except for Atom himself”

 “Yeah, about that, what the fucking hell.. mmhph..”

 “I suppose what my partner is trying to say here.” Nick interceded again, at this point just plain used to it. “Is that we were surprised at how much your community has grown. We’ve also managed to see the relic, and hear your speech, and were wondering more about it.”

 “Ah, so Atoms glow has drawn you in. Not to worry, all can take his path to division, even those lacking human flesh.” She eyed him and smiled, ignoring Nick’s pronounced frown. “There is not much more I can say that my speech has not already revealed. All questions will be answered tomorrow. Atom has spoken to me, through his eyes I’ve seen what to do to bring him into this world, and I have chosen to serve him. He is close to resurrection, and tomorrow, he will walk amongst us.”

 Nora shifted on her feet. She didn’t like this. There was no way the children would resurrect their god, but whatever was going to happen, it couldn’t be pretty, and, well, if she could help it she didn’t wanna be anywhere around it.

 Except for…

 The children she had seen, among the crowd… Could she abandon them? It would be that easy now, after what she’d done, wouldn’t it?

 “Of course you’re welcome to stay for the ritual. We may continue our discussion after. Our brothers will prepare your loungings. You must leave me know, I have much to meditate on”

 A few reveries later, and a few question that Isolde kept outright dodging, they were brought to a separate room and left alone, asked to wait as the guard would bring back Nora’s power armour.

 They had been silent with each other, waiting for one to break the ice.

 “Nick..” Nora mumbled under her breath

 “Oh thank the railroad, I thought you were just gonna let me do the talking.” He whispered back.

 “You’ve been great at it so far, constantly interrupting me and everything”

 “You’re a real piece of work you know? I don’t know if you noticed here boss, but these people are straight up insane, and now they seem to think their god will walk on earth. I don’t like lying just as much as you, but I can omit a few personal opinions if it gets my gears still grinding underneath my trenchcoat.”

 “Yeah, yeah. Whatever. You know what we have to do, right?”

 “My best guess at this point is that you first chose to run away with your tail between your legs, figuring that these people would accidentally blow themselves up, and then saw the obviously kidnapped children and took a 180 degree angle turn.”

 “You know me so well.”

 “So are we rescuing the children and the new recruits? Do we even know if they are here by force?”

 “Well, we could always talk to them and find out. Maybe they know what this ritual even is in the first place. Also, what did you think of that.. thing. That was just weird right?”

 “Don’t tell me you believe in that pigeon’s milk. It’s probably some rad infused crystal that happened to look like there’s a fella inside it. There’s lotsa weird stuff like that happening in the world.”

 “…You’re probably right. Probably also what drove the Mother insane. Gosh Nick this is a mess.”

 “You’re telling me, you got my work cut out for me. By the way, we should watch out while we are out in the crater. If some of these people were actually kidnapped, the dear Mother might definitely have sent some goons to babysit us. They could strike at any m…”

 Nick’s voice fizzled out, his golden eyes turning off. A small electrical device had been lodged in his back, seemingly shorting out his power. Nora turned as fast as she could, but a long sharp needle stabbed her near her neck juncture, and things gradually.. gradually turned to black.

[saintheartwing]

Fallout is the Bomb

I can't believe I've only brushed over this series before. There was a whole, beautiful, irradiated world to explore within its boundaries that I never knew of! Lemme explain. Fallout is, well, post-apocalyptic. That alone had me worried. I'm not a big fan of the post-apocalyptic setting because of how it essentially gets so misanthropic, and assumes everyone turns into the kinda scumbags you'd see in "Violence Jack". The good news is that Fallout actually has a sort of "out". You see, in all of the series...well, most of it, anyway...you play as a Vault Dweller, someone who was sealed away along with others in big, social experiments set up by the government before a great war between China and the USA over resources that ended in nuclear fire. The Vaults have everything you'd need to survive for decades, even centuries! But not for all of them. You need to leave your Vault eventually, either to get a much needed Water Chip that will ensure your people can survive, or to find the "Garden of Eden Creation Kit", or you're forced to leave because the head of your Vault is a big fat jerk, or you leave because your SON has left the vault long before you while you were essentially frozen in suspended animation, and you've gotta track them down. In New Vegas, it's different, but I'll get to that later. Fallout 1 and 2 introduced the factions that basically dominate the universe. The Brotherhood of Steel, who sealed themselves away and hoard technology, hoping to someday come back up and revive the best of mankind in better days. The Super Mutants, mutated humans infected by a virus made by a lunatic who thought that as long as there were differences of ANY kind in humans, we'd keep tearing each other apart. Hence, why not make a race where everyone looks and sounds basically the same, AND is super strong, AND can easily withstand the radiation-filled wastes that fill America? There's the Enclave, the remnants of the previous government, heads of corporations, the rich and powerful, who helped MAKE the Vaults, and who basically think any life that's out on the Earth at the moment isn't really human because their DNA isn't like the "old world" humans anymore. Even if it just means people just have an extra toe or the like, they think you're a subhuman mutant as bad as the two-headed, skinless cows that now walk around. There's Ghouls, people who are heavily bombed to s--t, their skin burned off, looking like they've been flayed alive and yet linger on, some who are very intelligent and still retain their personality, others who are feral and twisted and evil. And then there's the NCR, the New California Republic, founded by war heroes and remnants of the army who are trying to sort of rebuild America or at least, what it stood for, out primarily on the West Coast. Their leadership's too concerned with bureaucracy and the amount of red tape and incompetence can be a real issue, but you can clearly tell most of them, the soldiers included, are just trying to stick together and do as much good with as many people as possible. In the first two games, it's a sort of isometric perspective. In the third, it switched to a sort of first person shooter mechanic, and the series has kept it like that, with RPG elements throughout. You have "perks", abilities like being able to carry a ton more, being able to avoid fighting with wild animals because they all like you, having a random, mysterious, gun-toting stranger randomly pop up to help...and you can choose how you want your character to look and act, like in most open world games. Now, which one is the best? I'm not sure for everyone, but for me? New Vegas is the best blend of old school and new. You play a courier who's lived out in the Wasteland. It was your job to deliver a "Platinum Chip" to Las Vegas or, as it's now called, New Vegas. But you got caught by some fancy dressed mobsters, shot and left for dead. It didn't stick. Now you wanna find that Chip, find out WHY it's so important, who the hell killed you, and maybe...or rather, most LIKELY...get revenge. There's a problem, though. For one, you don't know where the mobsters went. And you've got to contend with raiders, the NCR who aren't sure if they can trust you, wild mutated animals, and everything in between. AND...a new, Roman-themed faction that's raping and pillaging every town they find, selling the women into slavery and following a mad lunatic named Caesar. And I do mean Roman-themed, they wear Roman armor, have centurions, the whole shebang. The Legion's boss, Caesar, actually gives a damning condemnation of Democracy in the game. After all, it was Democracy and electing the idiots that were in the govt that cared more about the Red Scare than people having fresh water to drink that led to the war. Might makes right. The good news is you can play someone who's both good and bad, someone who's a blend. There's not merely morality, but "reputation". You can have a good reputation with the Brotherood, but be HATED by the NCR. Or idolized by the NCR and despised by the Legion. If you're smart enough, or charming enough, or have the right perks, you can talk your way out of almost anything, or, if you've the skill, blow the beejbus outta anyone you want with a ROCKET LAUNCHER! HAHAHAHA! KIBBLES AND BITS! It's fun watching baddies explode. And there's a lot of funny moments too. Take, for example, a subquest at the Atomic Wrangler, as you try to earn money to gain access to New Vegas, for you need 2000 bottle caps to get in, and that means you need to either sell a lot of highly valuable stuff...which you probably don't have...or you've gotta get dirty and do things like be a pimp for a whorehouse. Which I had to. The boss says we need a ghoul cowboy, a charming older lover, and a sexbot. Then when you tell him you've got the sexbot, he's all giddy like a schoolkid, making it abundantly clear the sexbot was for HIM. Which he tries in vain to pretend isn't true. And of course, the guy who shot you has a talking droid. Because of course he does. His name is Yes Man. When you tell Yes Man you're the Courier his boss shot? Yes Man: Hahaha! I know that's not true, because you still have a head!

Courier: I'm serious. 

Yes Man: Hahaha! That's... not funny... you getting shot in the head. I really shouldn't have taken so much pride in how I set that up, huh? ... I feel really bad right now. Yes Man has a lot of great lines. Oh, and did I mention Elvis Impersonators run a good chunk of the Strip? Because of COURSE they do. Of COURSE they do. Guess what they have to say about their HQ? "Near as I can tell, it was some sort of religious institution. Oh, I know it says "school" out front, but everything in here seems to be related to the worship of some guy from back in the day. People used to come here to learn about him, to dress like him, to move like him. To BE him. If that's not worship, I don't know what is." Hey, if you're gonna imitate ANYBODY, why NOT the King? And yes, in Camp Searchlight...deep breaths... THERE IS...a set of HOLY HAND GRENADES in the Church.  The sign just reads, "Pull pin and count to 3." And the grenades will make a bigger boom when you count to 3. Don't believe me? Look for yourself!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7tZUFKe-uYw&feature=youtu.be It's too beautiful for words.  ^_^

hbomberguy on Youtube did a really good analysis of the themes of Fallout. And as he said, “FO1's villain is 'the future', represented by mutations, evolution, technology and so on. The Master embodies this by being a mutated machine-man. The old world is gone, and the future is coming to get you.

FO2's villain is 'the past', in the sense that the largest threat to the world is the stuff that destroyed it the first time. People are trying to move on, inventing new money, but the real threat is that we haven't changed enough, and are still doomed to destroy each other. Hence the theme of newly-invented drugs, money troubles and so on. You're chasing an artifact of the past to survive, but that past killed the world. How much of the past is it good to dig up? The Enclave dream of a return to the prelapsarian america that already had its chance and got blown up.

Horrigan (the main villain) embodies this. He 'is' the ideology of the past, personified. He wants to kill you because mutants must die, and you must be a mutant because he's been ordered to kill you. Symbolically we're seeing that humans have a thirst for purity, and this thirst is itself our greatest flaw. You also HAVE to kill him with violence. It's not possible to talk him down, and the real challenge is how you deal with that fact. It's a nice final twist. Your first proper conversation allows you to claim you believe peace is always possible - and the last one is a counterpoint, saying - but the other person has to be willing to try this too.

The game criticisms mankind's inner violence, but then points out that to escape this, violence becomes necessary - it just has to be used differently from before. Being able to recruit some Enclave soldiers AGAINST the main Enclave soldier is a fun moment. The military industrial complex is bad but can be wielded against itself.All FO's main villains and central characters are rendered 'faceless' by masks or armor or mutations, because they represent something prevalent in humanity itself, more so than any one person. it makes them larger than life, like you're battling a concept. The Master is a monstrous creature-machine, Horrigan is always behind a mask, as is Lanius, and the burned man and Ulysses are similar too. This is one reason why making the villain of 3 just 'some guy in a jacket' really annoys me. Make me contend with the faceless monster that is the darkness in man. Don't make me shoot some southern-talkin' dude.Even then, I can see that being a really cool twist on the formula. But it's so badly done. Poor Autumn.”

Indeed. The main “villains” of New Vegas are sort of “faceless” and represent greater concepts. Mr. House is, in many ways, a refusal to let go of the past. He wants all of Las Vegas to be like his snowglobes: perfectly pristine and preserved under a glass bubble, unchanging. Caesar’s idea,, the LEGION’S idea of the “future” is a take from the past as well, a sick, dark past, the ROMAN heritage, embracing the past’s more cruel elements in the name of a greater organization and unity. Sort of similar to the Master’s Unity, but this time not coming from looking to the future, but to the past. The NCR is the present, and they are, in a way, a problem as well, something to contend with. Because people are suffering here and NOW, and they’re stretched so thin and so tied up with red tape that people slip through the cracks easily, or they just use outright violence instead of better, smarter solutions. They can’t see ahead properly, and aren’t learning from the mistakes of the past. Cassandra Moore, in particular, is a good example: every solution she has involves killing someone or a group of people. She refuses to open up to the idea of diplomacy. She’s as closeminded and narrowminded as the idiots who helped cause the bombs to fall to begin with. By only seeing other factions as enemies and never considering they could be allies or friends, or dealt with more kindly, you close yourself off to better, more moral, or smarter solutions.

The Brotherhood of Steel are similar: they want to preserve the elements of the Past, but they can’t see that their refusal to really help those in the present is dooming them. They’re well-meaning, they CARE, but...they’re wrong. They’ll just die out if they just stay inside their bunkers. They need to take a more active role in the world outside.

So what I'm saying is...play Fallout: New Vegas when you get the chance. Check out the Fallout series. There's a lot to love in there that might surprise you. I know it surprised ME.

[quinzelade]

By No Constraint (chpt 71)

SS x Danse

Chapter List

Thanks to my amazing beta, @waiting4morning, for her wonderful work!

Tumblr has apparently changed its linking rules, meaning I can no longer externally link my FFnet or Ao3 accounts if I want my story to show up in the tag search on tumblr. If you want update alerts, please search ‘quinzelade’ on either of these sites and follow me there.

Apologies for the huge unplanned almost two month gap for this fic. The Manchester bombing happened, which was in my general part of the country, which meant work and other related stuff got busy for me, as everything got affected in that area tbh. Then I went to Normandy to take part in the memorial D-Day services over there. Now I’m in Texas, where I’ve finally had time to write.

I decided to finish up the last few chapters of BNC. They are all written out and beta’d, so with any luck I’ll be releasing them each week without any disruptions. I will be announcing what I intend to do in regards to other writing plans closer to the final chapter.

It's good to be back! I missed you all, and I hope you enjoy the ending of my long ass story. :)

Major Brotherhood/Danse spoilers.

–

Reparations

–

The holotags were to remain with Quinn.

Danse knew this—hated it—but he also understood the necessity. They had to be handed in to strike Marguerie off the Brotherhood’s list. Official closure, as well as supporting the story Quinn would give to anyone that asked.

Official closure.

Danse snorted to himself, his hands gripping at his gun. Official closure existed for one reason: to pass on the deceased holotags to their families. The malicious irony brought a sour taste to Danse’s mouth, and he felt his face twist with disgust. No one knew Marguerie’s daughter still lived. The tags would never reach their rightful owner.

Every step he took—every inch he moved from those tags—felt like a betrayal to Sarah. He was going to tell the girl her mother was dead, that he murdered Marguerie, and had nothing to show for it.

Well, not nothing. The sketchbook rested against his heart like a shield, pressing uncomfortably into his ribcage. Small price to pay for a child’s mother.

Would she remember him? It had been months since he’d seen her. Danse recalled how cheerful she’d been, even knowing her father was likely dead. And brave, too. Chasing after super mutants with rocks.

Danse grinned to himself, but the smile slipped away almost immediately. He told Marguerie this on her grave. And just like then, Danse knew she would have been proud of Sarah. A shame Sarah would have no memory of Marguerie at all...or maybe a blessing. Marguerie’s absence must have hurt on some level.

He wondered if Sarah would ever grow to be as tall as her mother. Now he thought about it, the idea of MacCready and Marguerie being an item wasn’t so strange. She’d always liked men shorter than her. George had only come up to her chin.

Danse chuckled to himself, the day she’d brought George to the base as clear as day. There had been some teasing from the other grunts, but for once, Marguerie didn’t rise to it. The smile on her face as she’d sat with George, ignoring the taunts, was clear for everyone to see: love.

Danse stopped in his tracks, staring across the dead landscape. In the distance, he could just make out the Slog, the sun gleaming off the surface of its tarberry filled pools. He focused on the shifting shimmers, trying to push Marguerie out of his mind, and then immediately found himself distracted as a brahmin ambled into view. For a panic-stricken second, he thought it was Weathers, before remembering Weathers was dead.

The discomfort that gripped him when they found the doctor’s body returned in full force. Although Danse wasn’t entirely certain of Weathers’ fate, he still had a pretty good idea, and it involved a certain ghoul pressing money into the outstretched hands of Weathers’ guards.

Danse wasn’t an idiot, and neither was Quinn. She would never buy his flippancy over Weathers’ death. He’d lied to her anyway.

Lied.

Danse felt slightly sick, even if he’d deceived her for the best of reasons. But he’d live with it. Danse knew Quinn, and he knew she’d feel responsible if he shared his suspicions. After all, she was the one to tell Hancock that Weathers took bribes from the Institute. And while Quinn was more than capable of doing what was necessary, she also clung to her outdated morals.

Danse loved her for them. Letting Weathers leave on the proviso he never came back, despite his Institute leanings. Honouring a man’s word and upholding hers in turn. It was so...pre-war.

Danse supposed that’s why deciding Carson’s fate took so long. But Quinn had deemed Carson a potential threat. Weathers, she had not, now the Institute was gone. And to have him killed when he posed no immediate risk…

No, Quinn would not approve. So Danse lied. She had enough on her plate at the moment without the added guilt of a worthless corpse.

Danse shook his head and strode on. He was fixating on something he only suspected, even though the evidence was pointing to the same person. But what Hancock may or may not have done was none of Danse's business. He had Quinn and Charlie to think about.

Slowly, he drew near to the Slog. Even from a distance, Danse could see the ghoul residents tense at his arrival. His face was still covered. Hoping they wouldn’t be too alarmed when found out who he was, Danse made his way over to Wiseman. “I don’t know you remember me, but…”

A chorus of “Paladin Danse!” hit the air, the residents moving to crowd around him. Danse winced, casting a sharp glance over his shoulder as if the Brotherhood were right at his heels, and he heard Wiseman hiss, “Shh! You know he’s supposed to be dead!”

“Thanks,” Danse replied, turning back to face Wiseman and holding out his hand.

Wiseman stared at him, and Danse inwardly cursed. The first time he’d been here, he’d been nothing short of awful. Of course they wouldn’t forget that in a hurry. The only reason they’d tolerated him was because of Quinn, and she wasn’t here now.

“Sorry,” Danse said quickly, attempting to withdraw. But Wiseman seized his hand and shook vigorously.

“I don’t remember the last time a smoothskin offered to shake hands,” the ghoul rasped, beaming.

“It’s not a big deal,” muttered Danse, his cheeks hot.

“Oh, but it is.” Wiseman fixed Danse with a piercing stare. “It really is. You’ve come a long way, Paladin.” He gave a friendly squeeze and let go.

“I’m not a paladin anymore,” Danse replied, meeting Wiseman’s eye. “And that’s probably for the best.”

Wiseman laughed, stepping forward and clapping Danse on the shoulder. “Come on. Let’s get you a drink. What’s your poison? And where’s Quinn?”

“Non-alcoholic,” Danse said as the two of them walked inside the building in the centre of the settlement. “Quinn had business with the Brotherhood. She’ll be joining me here later. But—”

“Nuka-Cherry?” Wiseman said, opening a cupboard and pulling out a dusty, magenta bottle.

“Uh.” Danse blinked. He’d never tried anything other than normal Nuka-Cola. “Sure.”

Wiseman produced a rusted bottle opener from his pocket, prised off the cap, and then slipped both back into his pocket. He passed the drink to Danse, who cautiously sipped. It was far sweeter than normal cola, but nice in its own way.

Danse had a little more to be polite, then said, “I’m not on a social visit unfortunately.”

“Oh?” Wiseman poured himself vodka, neat, and sipped it from a chipped coffee mug.

Danse stared at the alcohol, momentarily distracted, before shaking his head. Focus. “I’m here to see Sarah. The little girl?”

“Sarah?” Wiseman repeated, and Danse heard something in the ghoul’s tone he didn’t like. “Why do you want to see her?”

“I...I think I found her mother. Her name was Marguerie. Ra—”

“Was?” There was a clatter as Wiseman knocked over his mug, sending vodka everywhere. But he didn’t seem to notice, staring hard at Danse. “Is Rachel…?”

Danse nodded. “Yes.” Wiseman knew Marguerie’s first name, without being told. Danse’s doubts melted away, though his stomach still felt tight. He forged on. “I need to speak to Sarah. Need to...pass on some items, as well as the bad news.”

Wiseman pressed his lips together, his ravaged face paling. Danse waited, dread starting to creep over him as the ghoul struggling to speak. Finally, Wiseman’s brow knotted together and he bit his lip. “I’m...I’m sorry, Danse. Sarah’s gone.”

--

Quinn's breaths beat to the rhythm of her footsteps, sharp and painful. She didn't know where else to go, what to do. Maxson's attitude enraged her. After everything she told him, the first thing he could comment on was her relationship with Danse. Why was it so important to him? Why was he so fixated on condemning Danse and keeping her here?

She shook her head and stomped on, ignoring the initiates that scurried out of her way to avoid her wrath. No doubt some of her altercation with Maxson had carried to the rest of the ship. She only hoped the finer details had been lost in the scuffle. As she reached the middle of the walkways, though, Quinn stopped. There was one place on this stupid ship she was guaranteed privacy. Maxson wouldn't follow her there now—not after the way she'd spoken to him.

Smiling bitterly to herself, she turned on her heel and marched back the way she came, before turning right to the officers' dorms. At the end of this new corridor was her own room. Her sanctuary away from so many staring, questioning eyes.

She opened the door, and halted in the doorway, staring. There was someone sitting on her bed, someone she hadn't expected to find.

"Josh?"

Joshua Cooper sprang to his feet at once, scarlet in the face. He practically punched himself in the chest as he saluted and said, "Ma'am! Sorry for the intrusion, ma'am!"

Quinn smiled at him. "Relax, Josh. I said you could come here, remember?"

Josh's faced deepened to maroon, his fist still digging into his chest. "I know, but...I didn't want you to find me here."

"Why not?"

"Because...it's a private place."

Quinn frowned. Private for who? She gestured for him to sit down, and after a few seconds, Josh relented, letting his arm fall to his side. Quinn grabbed the chair from next to the old desk, and set it down opposite him. Then she went to the lockers lining the walls and rummaged through them. The last time she had done this, it was Bantios who needed her comfort. Quinn felt a pang in her chest as she located her stash of Nuka-Colas, and wondered how good of a job she did after all. He'd still gone to fight the Institute. He'd still died. Saved everyone in the process. Quinn hadn't even stayed for his funeral.

"Ma'am?" came Josh's high voice from behind her. "Ma'am, are you alright?"

"Yeah, fine," Quinn lied, stepping back from the lockers, a bottle clutched in each hand.

"Oh, wow! Nuka-Cola!" he said at once, sounding thrilled. "My mom only ever let me try it once!"

There was a pause, and Josh made a noise like he was being strangled. Then he pulled his knees to his chest and buried his face in them.

Quinn decided not to comment and instead prised the caps off the edge of her desk, grinning slightly at the thought of Danse's expression if he could see her now. He'd be horrified at her using his old workspace for such a purpose. She wiped the smile away as she approached Josh, though, and nudged him gently with his bottle as she sat down in her chair. It wasn't as comfy as Mrs. Bossanova's old armchair, but it would do.

Eventually, after a few dogged nudges, Josh took the bottle and sipped reluctantly. Quinn saw his eyes widen slightly before taking a longer swig, like a broken man drowning his sorrows with booze.

"How have you been, Josh?" Quinn said, drinking from her own bottle.

"Shit," he muttered.

"Hey," Quinn said sharply, making Josh flinch. "No swearing."

God, I sound like my mother used to.

"You swear! I've heard you!" Josh replied indignantly. God, he sounds like I used to.

"Yeah, well," Quinn mumbled, hiding her hypocrisy behind another sip of the cola, "it's a bad habit. Don't do it. I won't be letting my son swear."

"He will if you carry on swearing," Josh said bluntly, glaring at her. "Kids look up to their parents." He paused, looking upset. Josh hid his face behind his knees again, holding the bottle lazily between his fingers. It was at great risk of falling. Quinn leaned forward and plucked it from his hand, setting it down on the floor next to her.

She was reminded of Nate's annoyance whenever she’d sworn in front of Shaun, telling her she was setting a bad example to their son. Quinn had promised she'd put a lid on it, and managed for a while. Then the apocalypse happened. Small promises fell by the wayside after that.

"They'll be proud of you," Quinn said gently, setting her own drink down. "Because you're right. Charlie will copy me."

Josh lifted his fingers slightly to show he heard her but didn't look up.

"How are things with Michelle?"

"Bad," Josh said, his voice muffled by his knees. "All she does is cry. She's stopped teaching, too. They had to get a scribe called Haylen to take over.” He finally raised his head again. "I like Haylen. She's nice."

Quinn smiled. "I like Haylen too. She's a friend of mine."

Josh seemed to uncoil himself, sitting up straighter. "I like coming to talk with you, ma'am. Can I...am I allowed to talk to you more often?"

Quinn bit her lip. "Josh..."

His face fell. "Oh. Sorry." He started to get up from the bed, looking embarrassed.

“No, it's not like that," Quinn said quickly, holding out a hand to stop him. "I'd be more than happy to talk with you if...if I was staying."

Josh fell back onto the bed with a soft flump. "You're leaving?"

Quinn nodded. "I have a new mission, elsewhere in the Commonwealth. It's going to take a long time to do. I might never be coming back." At the look on Josh's face she hastily added, "I'm sorry! I know it's not the best news but—"

"Take me with you," Josh said at once, grabbing her hand. "Please, take me with you. Don't leave me here. Please!"

Quinn's words caught in her throat. More than anything, she wanted him away from the Brotherhood. She could see the misery this place inflicted on him. The loneliness. An Elder Maxson in the making. But with the plans she had for Sanctuary, and the ideals the Brotherhood put into their children, it wouldn't be safe to bring him. He would hate what he saw. May even try to escape back to the Prydwen if it became too much. And not only would he risk his life in the attempt, but if he made it, then Charlie and Danse's lives would be at risk, too.

She cared for Josh. But he wasn't her son.

Quinn shook her head. "I'm sorry, Josh. I can't. It's too dangerous. No mission for a child. Besides, if you went with me. You'd never see Michelle again. Or any of your friends. Or—"

"I don't want to see her again," Josh said, his face burning scarlet. "I don't care about this place anymore. My mom and dad are dead, and for what? You couldn't even tell me why they died! Because they died for nothing! I'm on my own, and it was for nothing!"

He screamed the last sentence in her face. Quinn didn't stop him. Didn't even challenge him. He was right. But it changed nothing. Even if Josh adapted to life at Sanctuary, to Danse's survival, to all her plans, Maxson would never agree to let him go. And if she took him, the Brotherhood would turn the wasteland upside-down to find him. Missing soldiers were one thing, but children? She knew enough of Maxson's history to understand he would stop at nothing to make sure the boy was safe.

“No,” Quinn said, making her tone cold and final. “You have to stay here.”

Josh glared up at her. “Fuck. You.”

He wrenched his hands away and ran from the room before she could so much as move. Quinn sat in her uncomfortable chair, shocked, letting what had just happened sink in. She could have taken him away from all of this. Taken him somewhere he could be a normal kid.

Quinn stayed sitting in the empty room a little while longer, staring at the wall, before forcing herself to get up. There were things to do. No time to mope. She had to say goodbye to Carson.

--

Maxson was already in the sick bay when Quinn walked through the door. He turned around to see who had entered, and then promptly put his back to her. When he began to speak again, it was as if she wasn’t in the room.

“I need people I can trust with the operations ahead of me. The Sentinel speaks most highly of you, and given the circumstances we discussed, I think you have shown you stand for what is right above all else. Do you agree?”

“I...yes sir.” Carson was pale and wide-eyed, staring up at Maxson. Aside from when he’d been questioned over Danse’s synth status alongside Rachel, Quinn was sure Carson had never held an actual conversation with Maxson.

“Good.” Maxson saluted. “Ad victoriam, Knight-Sergeant.”

“Ad victoriam, sir.” Carson tried to salute, but his arm trembled and dropped lamely back to his side. If Maxson cared, he didn’t show it, striding from the room without another word and deliberately avoiding Quinn’s eye.

They waited until Maxson’s footsteps died away. Quinn cleared her throat. “What was all that about?”

“I’ve been promoted,” Carson said weakly, staring at the foot of his bed.

“Congratulations.” The word sounded insincere, and Quinn felt her cheeks burn. However, Carson shrugged.

“He said he had a conversation with you about the future of the Brotherhood. He wants my input when I’m better. Said as a survivor of what happened with Rachel, I’m in the best position to advise him so that it doesn’t happen again. Highlight the failings that caused her to slip so far.” Carson looked up at Quinn, and she saw an empty sorrow in his gaze. But then something shifted, and anger blossomed from the depths. “You—”

An irregular clunking made him stop, and seconds later, Kapraski burst into the room, leaning heavily on his crutch. “Christ, am I allowed back now? What the hell was he playing at, sending me out? You’re my partner, for christsakes!”

“Tom—” Carson began, but Kapraski ignored him, propping himself precariously on the crutch while he started fussing over the state of Carson’s pillows, which were not sufficiently fluffed to Kapraski’s satisfaction.

“Tom,” Carson said louder. “I need to speak to Quinn.”

Kapraski paused, his brow furrowing. “So? Whatever it is, you can say it in front of me. I already had to wait somewhere else while Maxson was here. I’m not doing it again.”

“Yes, you are.” Carson locked eyes with Kapraski and frowned. “Please leave.”

Kapraski was as stunned as Quinn felt. Carson had never been so firm with his boyfriend before, usually letting Kapraski take the lead. Now he was putting his foot down. The effect was quite unnerving.

“I…” Kapraski glanced at Quinn, clearly hurt. Then he nodded. “Alright. I’ll just be down the hall.” His eyes flicked back to Quinn as he said, “Come find me when you’re done.” With that, he managed to get himself upright and hobbled out from the sick bay.

Carson sighed as Kapraski left. “He’s pissed. I’ll be in for it later.”

Quinn sat herself down on Cade’s desk and studied him. “What do you want to talk about?”

“You know what.” Carson nodded towards the open door, menace cracking his features. “You told Maxson? Did you even stop to consider what kind of shit you might be dropping me in?”

Quinn hesitated. Carson had been honest with her over Rachel. She owed it to him to be honest over Maxson. “I did.”

“And you told him anyway?” When Quinn nodded, he let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “Oh, I see. Fish me out of the frying pan and throw me into the fire, right?”

“It’s not like that—” she began.

“I know it’s not,” Carson snapped, glaring at her. “Lucky for you, Maxson didn’t flip the fuck out and have me executed on the spot to hide his secret. But you didn’t know that. Anything could have happened. Tom could have been dragged into it as well.” He was almost snarling at her, his hands balled into fists.

“The Brotherhood is going to run itself into the ground,” Quinn said, too tired to dance around the matter anymore. “It’s unsustainable. I told him about Rachel to prove a point. Maxson needs to change. The Brotherhood needs to change. If it doesn’t, it will die.”

Carson didn’t answer, taking in quick, ragged breaths that made his chest appear to spasm. Quinn bit her lip and then sighed.

“I’m leaving, Carson. And I won’t be coming back.”

Carson looked up at her, blinking slowly, his mouth open. “You’re…leaving?”

Quinn nodded. “But...if you’re scared…” She fidgeted. “I can wait until you’re better, and then you can leave with me. You and Kapraski. Sanctuary isn’t like the place where you were born. No one will judge you for who you are.”

There was a stab of guilt within her as she offered out the one thing she’d denied Josh. But she knew Carson, at least, was safe. And Kapraski hadn’t shown animosity to Nick when they’d met. He was safe too.

Carson blinked again, and turned his head from her to stare around Cade’s office. Quinn knew his only love for the place was the community he felt. The acceptance. He could get that just as much in Sanctuary. Quinn thought he might jump at the chance. She was wrong.

“No,” he said, blinking quickly now, his eyes shining bright. “No. I can’t do that to Tom.”

“But he can come with you,” Quinn replied, feeling confused now.

“It’s not that, he…” Carson’s face scrunched in despair. “Tom needs to fly, to pilot a vertibird again one day. It’s the only thing keeping him going. If we leave, he loses that for good. I won’t take it from him.”

“But you said you were worried that—”

“I’m angry you didn’t think things through.” His face hardened again. “You took a big risk telling the Elder what happened. But that wouldn’t push me enough to leave.”

“Even if it got you killed?”

“Dying isn’t too much of a burden.” He raised an eyebrow at the look on her face. “I’m not suicidal or anything. I want to live, but...well, I wouldn’t know I was dead either. Tom would be upset, but he’d get over it. Move on.” Carson’s brow creased. “Tom is happiest in the sky. I want him to be happy. And I want you to be safe. I don’t really care what happens to me past that.”

Quinn wondered how she could have ever doubted his sincerity. She slid from the desk as he stretched his hand out to her and locked her fingers through his. The weight of her decision was finally taking its toll. She would never see Carson again. Never laugh or joke with him, cry on his shoulder, or console him in turn. Never…

The two of them were suddenly hugging, though Quinn had no recollection of who started it. She arched her back up, trying to avoid pressing on his wounded chest, only for Carson to drag her close. He grunted with pain, but dug his fingers into her arms as she tried to pull away. Quinn understood. The last one should mean something, no matter how much it hurt.

Eventually, they broke apart, both wiping at their eyes.

“Don’t get yourself skewered,” Quinn said, trying to smile.

“And don’t let yourself get shot,” Carson countered, struggling to keep his tone playful. “I won’t be able to drag you out again.”

“I know.”

There seemed nothing else to say that wouldn’t prolong the parting. Quinn took his hand, gave his fingers a final squeeze, and left.

--

It was almost dusk by the time Quinn arrived at the Slog. Danse heard her before he saw her, exiting her power armour with a grating clunk and cheerfully greeting Wiseman. Danse drained his Nuka-Cola, setting it down next to the pile of empty bottles, and slowly got to his feet. He had been sitting outside on the ground, back to the wall, basking in the sun. Numb.

Quinn wrapped her arms around him, planting a kiss on his lips, and Danse tried to force some enthusiasm into the embrace. When they broke apart, she frowned at him.

“Everything okay?” Quinn asked, touching his cheek. “How did the talk with Sarah go?”

“It...it didn’t.” Danse dropped his gaze. “She left the Slog months ago.”

“Left?” Her worry was clear. “But she’s only a kid!” Quinn looked over her shoulder to where Wiseman lingered. “You let her go?”

“No, we—” Wiseman began.

“She went with Arlen Glass in the middle of the night,” Danse interrupted, and Quinn turned sharply to face him again. “Or that’s what everyone suspects. No one actually saw them.”

“Arlen was always close with Sarah,” Wiseman said with a shrug. “And after Sarah’s dad got dragged away by the mutants…” He heaved a great sigh. “Arlen became like a father to her. Almost inseparable. But then he started playing this tape, over and over again, with a young girl talking on it. A week later, he was gone. And Sarah with him.”

Quinn didn’t seem to be listening, staring instead at Danse. Danse could barely look at her, barely think. The one thing he’d promised to Marguerie—to speak to Sarah, to protect her—and he’d failed almost immediately. He had broken his word.

Quinn apparently read his mind. She put her arms around his neck pulled him down so that his chin rested where her neck met her shoulder. Danse closed his eyes. She didn’t need to speak to tell him it wasn’t his fault. He could feel it in how tight she held him.

They didn’t stay long after that. Wiseman tried to convince them otherwise, but the place felt like a bitter reminder of how fruitless Danse’s actions had been. Marguerie would be sneering if she could see him now.

At Quinn’s insistence, they made their way to the old bunker to collect the last of Danse’s things. Surprisingly enough, the place hadn’t been looted, but he found himself somewhat detached from the items that had been so dear to him not that long ago. He glared at the Brotherhood flag hung on the wall, and then walked past it, calmly picking up the chipped shot glass and the book Quinn had given him.

His Brotherhood armour stood not too far away, side by side with the set Quinn and the others helped him acquire. He studied it, a pang in his chest. Despite everything that had happened, Danse still felt drawn to it, to the memories lingering in the steel. Now he knew what he was, this armour had been his longest, most faithful companion.

He jumped as Quinn touched his arm.

“Take it all with you,” she said quietly, nodding from his armour to the tattered flag. “Even if you’re feeling bitter. You can decide later whether you want to keep them.”

“I can only choose one set,” Danse said, his eyes still fixed on the Brotherhood armour.

“We’ll come back for the other later.”

Her words made sense, but he didn’t want to return to this bunker ever again. Not unless he had to. It was a dank, gloomy place that stunk of decay, and woven deep into his now distant grief of being a synth. Being back here was making him ache with despair. Danse twitched his nose, wrestling for another topic. “What happened on the Prydwen?”

Quinn suddenly looked anguished herself. In a monotone, she told him of Carson and Maxson, and everything in-between. Danse wasn’t surprised she was truthful with Maxson—he even felt a twinge of pride at her honesty, but it was quickly wiped away as she described the struggle that ensued. “He grabbed you?”

Quinn shrugged, reaching up to unpin the flag from the wall. “It’s no big deal. I tried to punch him first.”

But the sleeve of her jacket slipped down, revealing darkening bruises in the shape of fingers on her wrist. Danse snarled and strode over to Quinn, ignoring her look of alarm as he took hold of her as firmly as he dared and tugged the sleeve down more. He stared at the marks for a second, blood pounding through his ears, and then said, “Maxson did this?”

The tremor in Danse’s voice was all too clear. Quinn bit her lip as their eyes met, and then gave a small nod. “Please, don’t do anything. He was only restraining me.”

Danse let go of her, breathing hard. He didn’t know why it made him so angry. Quinn was right—she had hit first, and in any other situation, Maxson’s response would be justified.

But he’d hurt Quinn.

Danse turned to the flag on the wall, still pinned in place. In one sharp movement, he tore it down, throwing it to the floor.

“Danse!” Quinn moved in front of him, her eyes wide. “There’s no point getting upset over something so small! Maxson’s an asshole. Just let it be.”

“You’re one to talk,” Danse retorted, clenching and unclenching his fists. He needed to regain his composure, and he was trying, but… “You tried to hit the man because he insulted me!”

Quinn smiled and caressed his cheek. “Then we’re as bad as each other.”

Her touch was like a sedative. The rage drained away at once, replaced by a dull warmth. She wanted him to be calm. He would be calm. Danse exhaled heavily and nodded, placing his hand over hers. Then he gently tugged her arm away and kissed each of the bruises, with slow, careful deliberateness. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Of course I’m alright.” She stood on her tiptoes and kissed his nose. “It’s just Maxson. He doesn’t matter.”

“No. He doesn’t.” The words felt foreign in Danse’s mouth, but he meant them.

They stood in silence for a few moments, and then resumed packing Danse’s things, stacking them in a little pile to put in the power armour of his choosing. Danse didn’t bother to pick the Brotherhood flag off the floor.

“Oh, by the way,” Quinn said as they worked, “I spoke to Joshua Cooper earlier: Vivian and Stephen’s son.”

Danse looked up at her. Her tone suggested she had been sitting on this information for a while, waiting for the right time to tell him. She busied herself around the workbench, avoiding his eye, though apparently without really moving anything.

“He...he wanted to come with me,” she said. “Hates being on the ship. Hates being with his aunt. Begged me to take him away from the Brotherhood.”

Danse frowned. “Why isn’t he here then?”

Quinn glanced at him. “I thought it was obvious. He knows you’re a synth. What if he reacts badly to it? Tries to leave?”

“Has he ever shown any anti-synth sentiment?”

“No,” Quinn said quickly, an odd expression her face. She straightened up, her brow furrowed. “And his parents never did, either. Vivian said you didn’t deserve what you got. That you were a good man.”

Danse blinked. Viv, on his side? But that was neither here nor there. They were talking about Josh. He shook his head and said, “Then I repeat my question. Why isn’t he here?”

“Well...I’m worried about how Charlie might react to it. He’s already feeling neglected.”

“Charlie might not like it at first,” Danse admitted, “or he might find Josh good company. We don’t know. I don’t think such a small uncertainty is worth leaving Josh behind.”

“Charlie’s happiness isn’t a small uncertainty,” she snapped.

“You know what I meant,” Danse replied, not rising to her ire. What she was saying made sense, but this was Viv and Stephen’s son. If Danse had the opportunity to make a difference...

“I just…” Quinn hesitated. “Even without the issue of Charlie, is bringing Josh home too risky?”

Danse considered this. Sarah surfaced in his mind, far beyond his reach. Maxson, and what he had become right under Danse’s nose. Stephen and Vivian, his old friends, abandoned by him after Cutler’s death. Each indirect failure an old, painful scar. He wouldn’t add another one.

“No,” Danse said truthfully. “It’s not too risky.”

It was as if Quinn had been waiting on a signal. She tore across the room without a second thought, clambering into her armour.

“Wait, where are you going?” Danse asked, bewildered.

“To get Josh, if I can.” The armour sealed itself, and Quinn jogged across the room, picking her rifle off the table. “I’ll need Maxson’s help.”

The idea of her going back to Maxson filled him with dread. Maxson wasn’t known for his patience over blatant insubordination, and Quinn was the posterchild for defiance. To go back now could provoke him into something rash. Danse had the fleeting urge to stop her, until she turned, her helmet under her arm, and he saw the expression on her face.

Permission, Danse realised. She was asking for permission.

Intentionally or not, he’d just given it her. Now only a second apocalypse would stop Quinn returning to the Prydwen. Danse stayed silent as she put her helmet on and checked over her rifle. His heart was racing. They’d escaped, and now she was going back.

But before she headed towards the elevator, she turned to him, and Danse’s breath caught in his throat.

“Thank you,” she said, tapping her fingers on her rifle. “For not telling me to play it safe and leave him behind.”

Danse nodded, biting his tongue. He didn’t trust himself to speak.

Quinn made a noise as if she was going to say something else, but then thought better of it. She marched over to the elevator, stepped inside, and disappeared from sight. The sound of grinding metal slowly faded, leaving Danse alone. He turned on the spot, the cold biting him, the dim lighting making his headache. He felt as lost as the day he’d learned he was a synth, alone and unsure what to do.

Like an old friend, the bunker enveloped him. It was as if he’d never left.

--

“Sir!”

Quinn nearly fell at Maxson’s feet as she skidded to a halt, her boots slipping on the metal floor. Her armour had been left on the outer decks. Maxson looked slowly over his shoulder, feet rooted to the spot, and glared at her.

“Sir now, is it?” Maxson said coldly. He looked back out of the office window, a drink in his hand. “Get out.”

“Please.” Quinn paused, trying to catch her breath. “It’s important. You know I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”

Maxson raised his glass, sipped from it, and then spoke to the window. “True.”

Silence.

“I watched you return,” he said eventually, his voice flat. “And wondered what would drag you back before you’d ever truly left.”

Quinn didn’t reply, her ragged breaths heavy in the quiet. She began breathing through her nose instead, trying not to disturb the tension in the air.

Maxson turned sharply around, nodding to his guards. “Knight-Sergeants. Dismissed.”

The guards saluted and obeyed without question, their clanging, armoured footsteps quickly fading away. Maxson waited until the suffocating silence returned before speaking. He looked at her in disgust. “What do you want?”

His tone was curt and crisp, sharpened with dislike and pointed at her throat.

Quinn did not break eye contact. “Do you remember Field Scribe Cooper and Knight-Sergeant Cooper?”

“Yes.”

“Their son, Joshua...he asked to go with me. I wondered if...”

“No.”

The word hit her like a bullet. “But, sir, if he wants to go with me —”

“No.” As Maxson whipped around to face her, he set down his glass so carelessly it spun straight off the edge of the table. Dregs of spirit splashed all over his boots as the glass shattered on the floor, but Maxson ignored it. “You will not take a single child off this ship. He belongs with his family.”

“His family is dead,” Quinn shot back, tensing up herself. “He can’t stand his aunt, and from what I can gather, she’s in no fit state to be looking after the boy in the first place.”

“We are a brotherhood in more than name. We will look after him.”

“The same way Rachel was looked after?”

“By the tone of Knight-Captain Cade’s report, Knight-Sergeant Marguerie had a penchant for bending others to her will.” Maxson gave a slight shake of his head. “Even if Cade wrongly blames himself.”

All at once, the tension left Quinn. There was something in the way he spoke, the way he held himself—like a yao guai defending its cubs. She knew he cared about the people on the Prydwen, but it struck her she’d never grasped just how much.

She stared at Maxson, and he stared back, until slowly, almost reluctantly, he began to relax too.

“The boy stays here,” Maxson said firmly. “He’s lost too much already. To take him away from all he’s known, after losing his parents so soon—it will...he…” Maxson broke eye contact as his voice wavered, and his lips parted around an unspoken word. Then he closed his mouth again and fixed his gaze at the broken glass on the floor.

“It’s not the same as you,” Quinn said gently, and Maxson’s head jerked up in her direction. “He’s miserable here. He wants to go with me. All he’s ever experienced is military procedures and war. He’s lost both of his parents to something he doesn’t understand—something I can’t explain. Not to a ten year old boy. I doubt you understood much of what was happening at his age either.”

Maxson swallowed, pale now. Slowly, he shook his head.

Quinn took a deep breath. “Josh deserves a chance of a normal childhood. Let me take him.”

Maxson’s brow furrowed, but this time he didn’t look away. “He’s been raised by our ideals. If he sees Danse—”

Quinn bit back a grin. “His mother wasn’t as strict on synths as she was supposed to be. She said as much to me when she thought Danse had been executed. I think Josh will be the same. But I’ll talk to him. And if I think he’s...” She bit her lip. “...too Brotherhood, then I’ll leave him in your care.”

Maxson shut his eyes, as if in pain. When he opened them again, though, they were sharp and piercing—his usual glare. “You risked a great deal today to place your trust in me. It’s time I returned the favour. You have my permission to take Squire Cooper, on the condition he is willing to go, and that you believe he will be happy and...and safe.”

Quinn smiled, relief flooding through her. “Thank you, sir.”

Maxson turned back to the window.

“Go.”

[fallout-friends-react]

OMG OKAY SO LIKE BUT WHAT IF the nv and fo4 Companions hear the courier/sosu saying "I love you" to dogmeat or Rex but think their talking to them??? Like how would they respond. Ps LOVE YOU!💗

Another oldie, this is cute tho so I gotta. I ALSO just realized I never included Rex in any of the new vegas reacts. What kinda barbarian am I?! PS. LOVE U TOOOO *like 60 heart emojis*

New Vegas

Arcade: His focus was entirely on the bag he was rummaging through when he heard the Courier yell, “I LOVE YOUU!” He didn’t want to look them in the face because his was probably more red than normal. “uuUUhhH,” his voice cracked, “that was a little sudden but, I um…” Before he could finish his sentence, the Courier just replied with, “sorry did you say something?” After they said that, he looked up to see them petting Rex. “NOTHING, forget about it..” Arcade immediately went back to the bag he was looking through, his face was much red than it had been previously.

Boone: He was looking out to see if there were any potential enemies nearby, so his back was turned to the Courier. He heard them say in an almost hushed voice, “I love you,” it sounded as though they were addressing him. He was a little surprised at how sudden it was, “excuse me?” It sounded a little more condescending than he wanted it to. Once he noticed that the Courier was indeed, talking to Rex, he just, turned back around without another word. He wouldn’t mention it ever again. 

Cass: Cass had just sat down and closed her eyes to rest for a bit, tuning out any other sound around her. The Courier was laughing quietly, before they said “I love you,” quietly. Cass’s eyes immediately sprung open, and she just yelled, “wait WHAT?” Once she actually looked at them, she noticed that they were previously playing with Rex. She kept trying to say something, but kept being interrupted by her own laughter. 

Ed-E: Beep!??

Lily: Said she loved them back but in the most grandma-y way possible.

Raul: He sighed loudly as he sat down and rested his face in his hands; it was a long day and the old ghoul was tired. A little while after he had sighed, the Courier said, “I love you,” in a rather convincing voice. “That’s a joke right boss?” He lifted his head from his hands after saying that, and noticed that they were petting Rex. They looked at him with bewilderment, why wouldn’t they love a dog??? Raul just chuckled to himself, and told them to not listen to him. 

Rex: He��s getting all the love, so he’s havin’ a great time. 

Veronica: She was tinkering with her power fist, so all her attention was focused on that. She could hear the Courier rustling around behind her but it sounded distant, until they said “I love you,” that came through loud and clear. “WHOOAAHOHOO YOU WHAT?!” Veronica quickly spun around to look at them. She was greeted with the sight of them looking at her, while their hands were on Rex’s face. It took her a few moments to realize what was going on, she just bursted out into laughter once she realized they were saying it to Rex and not her. 

Fallout 4

Cait: It was a long day, and just as Cait was about to fall asleep, she heard Sole whisper, “I love you.” She didn’t react right away, it took a couple seconds for what they said to sink in. Once it did, however, she suddenly woke up with a loud, “whaT DID YA SAY?!” She was still kind of in a daze, so once she saw that they were just talking to Dogmeat, she went right back to sleep. 

Curie: Focusing on the stimpack she was preparing for Sole, she was completely engrossed in her work. As she was finishing up, she could hear Sole say from afar, “I love you!” She nearly had a heart attack, her heart was pumping so fast, and she could feel her cheeks getting warmer. She was yelling in French before she realized that Sole was talking to Dogmeat. HOW embarrassing; if her cheeks weren’t visibly redder before, they were now. 

Codsworth: He went off into a different room to look for anything potentially useful. While he was the separate room from Sole, he could hear them yell, “I love you!!” As he was coming out of the room, he started saying, “Sir/Mum, it’s true we’ve known each other for quite some time now but-” he stopped mid-sentence. Turns out Sole was addressing Dogmeat, and not Codsworth. He didn’t fret about it much, he just laughed it off and went about his business. 

Danse: Danse and Sole were lucky enough to have some downtime, they found a relatively safe spot to spend the night. Danse was busy cleaning his gun, he didn’t really care what Sole was up to, that is, until they said, “I love you.” He immediately looked up and just said, “Soldier?!” Sole didn’t know what was wrong with them saying they loved Dogmeat, so they asked him what his problem was. Danse was so embarrassed he couldn’t even say anything, he just shook his head and went back to work. 

Deacon: After a hell of a fight with some super mutants, Deacon had his back turned to Sole, so he could clean off the dust from his shades. While he was busy doing that, he heard Sole say, “I love youuu!” from behind him. He just continued cleaning his shades and said, “ha ha very funny boss..” Once he finished cleaning his glasses off, and put them back on, he turned around to see Sole with a confused look on their face. They had been tending to Dogmeat’s wounds. Deacon tried to play it off as the start of a joke, but it didn’t work very well. 

Dogmeat: Give him the love he deserves!!!!

Gage: Gage sat down to wrap up a cut he had gotten on his leg from the previous fight. Gage and Sole has just finished clearing out the galactic zone, and he had been nicked by a laser. While he was dressing his wound, he heard Sole sigh and say, “I love you.” Gage continued to fix himself up, while saying, “uhh boss? Isn’t this a bit sudden?” By the time he finished up and turned around, Sole was already in tears from laughing. It took him a moment to put two and two together, but once he did he just sighed and waited for them to stop laughing. 

Hancock: Sole and Hancock were back visiting Goodneighbor, the two decided to stop by the old state house to rest. Hancock immediately plopped onto the couch that he knew so well, and Sole disappeared somewhere behind him. He was tired so he was a little out of it, but once he heard Sole say, “I love you,” he snapped back to reality. He chucked before saying, “even a ghoul like me huh?” There was a moment of silence before Sole bursted out laughed. Hancock immediately got up and turned around, they had to explain to him that they were talking to Dogmeat. Afterward, both of them just laughed about it together. 

MacCready: MacCready stopped to modify his weapon, any time was a good time for an upgrade. While he was doing that, he thought Sole was preparing food with the nearby cooking station. He knew he was wrong as soon as he heard them say, “I love you,” from right behind him. He nearly dropped everything he was working on and yelled, “you WHAT?!” Sole just continued to pet Dogmeat as they looked up at him with confusion. MacCready didn’t say anything, he just, covered his face with his hands and turned back around. This memory would haunt him for a long time to come. 

Nick: The two had just solved yet another case, and Nick was going through some notes of another case. Eventually he heard Sole quietly say, “I love you.” Nick didn’t take his eyes off of the notes, “uh, you alright?” The only reply he got from Sole was a, “what??” It was then that he looked up and saw them playing around with Dogmeat. He laughed and told them he thought they were talking to him. tl;dr Nick didn’t make a big deal out of it. 

Piper: Piper had stopped to write down some events that she had heard about, she had to remember every detail, so she was completely focused on what she was doing. Sole was quiet for the most part, but at some point they couldn’t help but squeak out an, “I love you.” Piper dropped her pencil, “b-bLUE?” She quickly turned around to face them. Her heart was beating fast, but it felt like it abruptly stopped once she saw that they were talking to Dogmeat. She was so embarrassed and flustered that all she could do was laugh. 

Preston: Much like always, Preston was talking about Minuteman business, and Sole wasn’t really paying attention. While he was talking, he was interrupted but a quiet, “I love you,” from Sole. He immediately stopped talking and gave them a loud, “huh?!” as he turned around. Sole was sitting on the ground petting Dogmeat and smiling at Preston. He felt incredibly embarrassed, but he didn’t think it was worth being upset over. He laughed it off and helped them up off the ground. 

Strong: Strong didn’t sign up for this commitment, he just wanted the milk.

X6-88: They found a small, safe shack to hold up in for the night; X6 was looking out the window to look for any danger. After awhile, Sole said, “I love you,” to which X6 didn’t respond; he just quickly turned around to look at them. Upon seeing that they were talking to Dogmeat, he simply turned back around to the window. X6 isn’t the biggest fan of Dogmeat, so he doesn’t entirely understand Sole’s fondness for him.  

[wilddragonflying]

Visitors

MacCready gets some visitors from the Capital Wasteland! Ruby © @red-flare-art

“Kaili!”

Kaili laughs as she spots MacCready jogging towards her and Preston. “Mac! Miss me that much?” She and Macready pull each other into a hug, laughing.

“Yeah, but I’ve got another reason for being excited,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder, deeper into the renovated Sanctuary. “Got some guests you’re gonna like.”

Now Kaili’s intrigued. “Guests?”

MacCready grins. “Follow me.” Kaili and Preston share a look before doing so. Macready leads then to the center of Sanctuary, and Kaili gives Pipsqueak an absent pat as they pass; she’ll give the deathclaw more attention later, after she’s met these guests. Kaili’s former house has been renovated into a meeting hall of sorts, and that is where MacCready leads them. “Kaili, Preston,” he says as he pushes open the door, his grin evident from the tone of his voice, “I’d like you to meet Ruby and Charon, two of my friends from the Capital.”

The ghoul-and Christ he makes an imposing figure, standing over six feet tall and built like a brick shithouse-snorts. “You and Ruby are friends” he appears to remind Macready, who makes a face. “I always thought you were a pain in my ass.”

“Ignore him,“ the red-headed woman next to him laughs. "He was just as excited to see you as I am.” She turns to Kaili then, a friendly smile on her face. “I’m Ruby,” she says by way of introduction, and Kaili pastes on her ‘General’ smile as she holds out a had to shake.

“Kaili Swesson, General of the Minutemen, and my right hand, Preston Garvey,” she says as Ruby takes her hand in a firm grip, doing the same to Preston when he stick out his own hand.

"Didn’t know Mac had friends coming,” Preston says amiably.

“To be fair, he didn’t either,” Ruby grins. “Heard from a caravan that there was a man named MacCready sending money and supplies down to the Capital, decided to come see if it was the same MacCready we knew.”

“Got us into a lot of trouble along the way,” the ghoul-who most be Charon - grumbles.

Ruby just grins. “You would have been bored out of you mind, otherwise.” she teases. Charon rolls his eyes, but doesn’t comment.

“So you’re just here to visit Macready?” Kaili asks curiously.

“And see about maybe helping out around here, Maybe drop by the Brotherhood’s zeppelin,” Ruby confirms. “Was kind of running out of things to do down south. Also heard Maxson became Elder, want to see if it’s true.”

Kaili shifts her weight, fidgeting under the amused looks both Preston and Macready are giving her. “Ah, if you’re talking about Arthur Maxson, then yes, that’s the Elder currently in the Prydwen.”

“Kaili and Maxson are… intimately acquainted,” MacCready snickers. Kaili gives Preston a pleading look and he rolls his eyes before elbowing MacCready hard enough to make the other man wince.

Charon raises an eyebrow while Ruby grins. “There’s a story there, isn’t there?” she guesses.

Kaili sighs, resigned. “We had an argument that got… very physical.” Kaili gestures to the coat she’s wearing. “This was his, just with a Brotherhood patch. I charged it to a Minutemen one after sneaking out of his quarters.”

Ruby laughs as the implications hit her, and even Charon cracks a smile. “Well, that does look like a very nice coat,” she snickers, and Kaili can’t help but laugh as well.

“It is,” she confirms. “Very warm, and offers a good amount of protection and makes me look even more intimidating.”

“Not that you need it,” MacCready laughs. “I’ve seen Raiders run away pissing themselves when they catch sight of her in their scopes.”

Kaili shrugs, cheeks hot. “Have you been shown around Sanctuary yet?” she asks in a not-too-subtle attempt at changing the subject, ignoring the fond look Preston’s giving her.

“Well, no,” Ruby says slowly. “We ah, haven’t gone out on account of the ground shaking in a very suspicious way.”

It takes Kaili a moment, then she grins. “Oh, that’d be Pipsqueak and Larry,” she tells the newcomers. “Pipsquak’s the albino alpha, and Larry is the chameleon. They’re both harmless, so long as you don’t threaten anyone in Sanctuary.”

“They’re deathclaws,” Charon says slowly, as though speaking to a child.

Kaili raises an eyebrow. “Yes, I realize that. However, apparently deathclaws imprint, because I was there when Pipsqueak hatched, and that’s exactly what happened. And then when she had her own egg, I was there when that one hatched, and Larry imprinted on me. I realize this is very unusual, but I can assure you: Don’t threaten any citizen of Sanctuary, and neither of them will bother you.”

Neither Ruby nor Charon looks terribly reassured, but Kaili really doesn’t have any other words to attempt to use to put their minds at ease, so she doesn’t try. An awkward silence reigns for a moment before Preston breaks it. “Well, Kaili and I just got back from wiping out some super mutants,” he says. “We were headed to the commons, why don’t you two come with us? We’ll show you around Sanctuary, introduce you to some people, and talk about heading out to rustle up some trouble.”

Ruby and Charon exchange a glance, talking without words in a way that Kaili recognizes as that language long -time couples develop, and she can’t help a glance at Preston, seeing that he’s recognized it as well. He’s looking at the two with a soft expression, and Kaili can’t help her smile. Her attention is drawn back to their guests, however, when Charon says, “That sounds nice.”

“You don’t say much, do you?” Kaili asks with a grin. “Come on, then; follow us.”

Introductions are the easier part, and Ruby and Charon are suitably impressed by the wall that surrounds all of Sanctuary, as well as the extent of the construction that’s been completed inside of the wall. Every house has been rebuilt and expanded upon, and what used to be the playground is now the farmland, and the two houses that were too degraded to be rebuilt at the western end of Sanctuary, in the cul de sac by the large tree, had been torn down; in their place is the commons, the gathering area for the citizens of Sanctuary and including a bar, several campfires, and plenty of comfortable seating. Kaili and Preston take seats at the edge, anticipating what happens next: As soon as they’re settled, Pipsqueak and Larry appear seemingly from thin air, pushing and shoving at each other until Kaili gives a sharp whistle, catching their attention. Once they realize there’s enough room for one at each side, mother and son settle down, laying next to Kaili, close enough that - even though she’s had Pipsqueak for a couple of years and Larry for one - adrenaline still floods her for a split second, kicking her heart rate into high gear for a moment. She takes a deep breath as usual, reminding herself that she knows these deathclaws, and then reaches out and starts doling out the required skritches. Pipsqueak prefers hers along the underside of her jaw, while Larry likes to be vigorously scratched along the edge of his horns where they connect to his skull.

Charon is eyeing her like she’s lost her mind, but Ruby mostly looks intrigued. “So they really are tame?” she asks.

“In a manner of speaking,” Kaili answers. “They’ve got the instincts of wild deathclaws - should’ve seen Pipsqueak tear into the Mirelurks at the Castle when we took it back for the Minutemen - but because she wasn’t raised by them, those instincts are… Directed differently, I guess. Most adult deathclaws are solitary, but males will often raise young for the first few months of life, mostly just making sure they know the basics, near as I can tell.”

“You’ve spent time with wild deathclaws?” Ruby interrupts, eyes wide.

Kaili shrugs. “Stay far enough away, they usually won’t mess with you,” she answers. “General rule of thumb. Some things, like Yao Guai and radscorpions, they’ll bite you soon as they catch your scent, but deathclaws don’t seem to care unless you get too close or you shoot first. I had some time on my hands, followed a couple of families, made some observations - and saw Raiders kill the male guarding Pipsqueak’s egg. I knew enough to know it had been incubated, was nearly ready to hatch, so I sniped them all and hauled ass to the egg, watched over it. Idiots would have tried to take it, probably to sell to that stuck up Mr. Handy in the stands in Diamond City, and it would’ve hatched on them halfway there.”

“So you made sure you’d be there instead,” Ruby surmises, and Kaili shrugged.

“Alternative would’ve been leaving the poor thing to its own devices, and no way would it have survived. Especially not being an albino. So it hatched, and I’d had suspicions that they imprinted, and that was confirmed when she started following me around without any bribery. Brought her back here, raised her, and she’s stuck around, except for when she’s gone off to mate. Only had one viable egg so far, and that’s Larry.”

“So, she just hangs around here?” Charon asks, still eyeing the pair of overgrown mutated geckos warily.

“Well, yeah. Helps defend against raiders, occasionally goes out and brings back prey. Only time she’s left was when we went to the Castle, and she only tagged along because most of Sanctuary went to help fight.” Kaili rubs her fingers gently over a rough patch of skin, devoid of scales. “Got this from the Mirelurk Queen’s acid. Hancock likes to joke that we’re like mother, like daughter.” She gestures to the patch on her neck where she’d gotten splashed with acid as well, bleaching her skin and leaving it pockmarked as well.

“Hancock?” Ruby prompts.

“Mayor of Goodneighbor,” Kaili answers.

“And our partner,” Preston adds.

At Ruby and Charon’s confused looks, Kaili elaborates, “I started a thing with Hancock, fell in love with him and him with me, then we both fell in love with Preston who fell in love with us - that was a messy few weeks while we were trying to sort out who loved who and what we were going to do about it. So the three of us are together, but - ”

“But Kaili has a thing on the side with a former Raider, name of Porter Gage,” Preston finishes, and Kaili gives him a reproachful look.

“But Kaili is also dating a former Raider,” she corrects, and Preston tilts his head, conceding.

“Sounds… messy,” Charon comments, and Kaili chuckles.

“It was, but it’s worth it. I’ve always been of the opinion that so long as everyone involved knows what’s going on and consents, and no one’s getting hurt, then who the fuck cares what other people think? It’s not their business, anyway.”

“Where are Hancock and Gage, anyway?” Preston asks, glancing at Kaili, who shrugs.

“Hancock’s probably in Goodneighbor, and I think Gage said something about scouting out some Gunner camps near the co-op. He’s probably heard over Radio Freedom that we’re back, though, so he’ll probably be back by tonight.”

Preston makes a face. “Long as I don’t wake up spooning him again, then he can stay with us.”

Kaili laughs, patting Pipsqueak in apology when the deathclaw grumbles, annoyed with Kaili’s distraction. “Well, that’s a problem for later,” she says with a grin, turning back to Ruby and Charon. “You guys said you were looking to help out around here?”

Ruby nods. “We’ve done pretty much everything there is to do in the Capital, wanted to see if there was something new to do here.”

“Well, we’ve got a couple of Vaults we haven’t gotten around to clearing out, including one over in Malden we’re pretty sure is full of Gunners,” Kaili says thoughtfully. “There’s also a few feral nests that need to be cleared out, same with some super mutant hives. Raiders aren’t much of a problem anymore, now that the Minutemen are back at full strength, but there’s always the odd group.”

“Long as the Vault ain’t full of Mirelurks, I’m in,” Charon says gruffly; he and Ruby share a look that suggests there’s a story behind his words, but Kaili doesn’t pry, only grins.

“Well, if you two want to visit the Prydwen, catch up with the Brotherhood - who, fair warning, I think are racist, elitist dicks, despite the fact that I’m a Paladin there - we can work our way east, explore a bit, wreak some havoc on people who deserve it?”

Ruby looks delighted at the prospect. “Bring it on.”

[1thousandminus7]

Sole Party- Day 6

Shenanigans with companions!

I had no idea how to interpret this, gonna say it now. I hope this makes the cut.

Nate loves his friends. Nick is probably his best friend. Before he settled down in Covenant, he spent a long time with Nick, helping solve cases and generally having fun. Also, in Nick he has someone who’s also prewar, and who he can reminisce with about the old days- alongside old Codsworth, of course. Sometimes he likes to talk to the robot about not just prewar Boston, but about his family itself. Codsworth takes some persuading when Nate tells him of his feelings for RJ, but he eventually comes around to the fact that Nate will have to move on sometime. Preston was the first friendly face he found in the Commonwealth, and so to him the Minuteman lieutenant represents hope in this strange new world. He knows that Preston is the kindest, most selfless man he could hope to meet. After travelling with him for a while, he picked up on the fact that Preston might like him more than he originally thought. He knew that Preston deserved happiness, so he strived to do what he could to make Preston happy, even if he couldn’t give him what he wanted. When he met Cait, a rough-and-tough raider girl who’d had far too many people abuse her in the past, he knew what he had to do. Turns out opposites do attract, when put under the right circumstances.

And then there’s Piper. In all honesty, her intelligence intimidates Nate a little bit. Sure, Nick’s super smart as well, but he’s practical, like Nate, Piper is... Well, she can twist any story to her desires and she’s one of the bravest people Nate’s ever met. He admires her, and everything she does for Diamond City and the Commonwealth as a whole. On the other end of the spectrum, there’s Hancock. Nate promised Hancock an adventure, and boy did he get it. Hancock accompanied him to the Glowing Sea, and that’s the kind of experience you can’t share with someone without getting attached. Also, he gets the feeling Ever (his wife) would have gotten along with the carefree ghoul. Maybe a little too much. As for Deacon... well, he’s never quite sure what to make of him. He loves the agent’s constantly changing style, though their combat tactics clash horribly, what with Nate’s brute force and Deacon’s preference for stealth, but in terms of personality they click well, and he’s definitely Nate’s closest friend in the Railroad, as much as he looks up to Glory or Des. 

On top of all his human (and robot) friends, he also loves his animals. Dogmeat was a friend to him when no one else was, fresh out of the icebox as he was, and he makes sure to reward the good dog with treats whenever he can. He hopes that Covenant makes a good home for the dog, and he hopes that the wandering pup will decide to stay for a while. However, he does worry that Dogmeat might be prone to bullying the settlement’s resident kitty, Cass (RJ named her after Cassiopeia from Greek mythology).

From here, we venture into territory not yet explored in Just for Caps. His first impression of Danse was not the greatest- he saw him as little more than a pawn of the Brotherhood. But as they get closer and Nate learn about who he really is, he promises the Paladin utter loyalty, and does all he can to convince the man that no matter what, he is worthy of love and acceptance. In fact, he may have met a little robot-turned-synth who can teach him that synths are not only machines, that they think and feel and love the same as any human. Not only does Nate have a penchant for adopting and taking in every living thing in need of his care, he also loves to watch them grow and learn to care for each other. He even goes so far as to take in both a Super Mutant and a Courser, and, after some persuasion, manages to get the rest of his ragtag little group to accept that even the most unlikely people can become friends. (X6 in particular learns the merits of their little group through a series of trials that Nate helps him through). Old Longfellow amuses him, and though they might not see eye to eye on everything, he holds a begrudging sort of respect for the old drunkard. And Gage? He doesn’t like him at first, even feels a little patronised by him after he tells him straight out how to beat Colter, he eventually learns to see past the man’s spiky exterior. He has yet to try to get the raider to get along with the rest of his friends, though. 

And then there’s RJ. Who would have thought that a childish, foul-tempered and dirty mercenary he picked up in the back of a bar would have been so adept at stealing his heart? Well, he has always had a soft spot for the feisty ones. Nate hides it well, but he has had a hard time adjusting. and so RJ was exactly what he needed to, emotionally at least, get back on his feet. Robert Joseph MacCready is his sun and stars, and he hopes that the merc will stay by his side for as long as they both shall live.