#what the Minutemen could become for the commonwealth and what part Goodneighbor plays in that

[solesurvivorpaigeargot]

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[electricshoebox]

I'm interested in 5, 10, and 20 for Anthony!

Ooh thanks so much!

5. Guilty pleasures So, I know this might be a little cliche in the Fallout world, but Anthony does have a serious weakness for comics. It’s one of the very few things he loved in the Old World that’s survived, and that he can still connect with to remember better times. He’s always used comics as an escape, even as a kid. He wanted to be that hero, that person that people respected and saw good in and found hope in. And that drive was part of what led him to the army, and then part of what led him to become the person that he’s become since waking up in the Vault. So there’s something deeply personal about comics for him, in a way he’s still kind of embarrassed about. His wife used to kind of tease him about his comic book collection, not unkindly, and even though Preston shares his love of them, he still has trouble not feeling self-conscious about it.

10. Fears/phobias Anthony doesn’t really have any particular phobias. But he does have a crippling fear of failing people. He’s always had a people-pleasing quality, and sort of a hunger for approval, but the post-war world has dialed that up to eleven and thrown some trauma on the fire. He feels extremely responsible for his wife’s death, even though he was literally trapped in a pod. He wrestles a lot with wondering if he should’ve been the one holding Shaun, so maybe she would have gotten to live instead. Things had already been sort of rocky in their marriage, so for it to end on that note triggers a lot of guilt. He also feels like he failed Shaun, like not being able to protect him or stop him from getting taken was partly on his shoulders. So building up the Commonwealth, working with the Minutemen, it’s all an effort to make a better world for Shaun to come home to, to make up for what he had to go through. Subsequently finding out who Shaun really is and what he does... well, that’s a whopper. But yeah all this to say: he takes on people’s needs like their his own personal quests, even if he can’t reasonably solve all of their problems. He still feels the drive. And he’s terrified of failing them.

20. What-ifs/Alternate Timelines Oh this is interesting. I’m not 100% sure how to answer. I guess I’ll go from the perspective of if the bombs never fell? I think, had he continued on in the Old World, he and Quinn (his wife) would’ve divorced within a few years. By the start of the game, Anthony’s been taken off active field work and put into an office to do translations and code breaking. He probably would’ve continued until the end of the war, whatever that looked like, telling himself he was still doing good work, even as he continued to question the army and their methods. But I think he would’ve eventually gotten fed up, and probably tried to find something else, which would’ve probably been difficult, given the rampant anti-Asian prejudice. So I think he would’ve felt pretty adrift, and without Quinn and Shaun to come home to (Shaun would live with Quinn and Anthony wouldn’t really fight it, just content himself with shared custody), he’d be pretty lonely. I think he would have been pretty miserable. And not that things are great in the new world, but I think he’s had more motivation to find his place in it, and to make something of himself. He’s less beaten down by the society and authority around him. 

There’s also, of course, the alternate timeline where he did die in the Vault, and Quinn was the one to survive. I actually played her game before I played his. Quinn takes to the new world with a lot less baggage than Anthony, and I won’t say it’s less traumatic, but she’s not as mentally fractured by it. Anthony struggles a lot with derealization and dissociation after the Vault, constantly believing he’s in a dream or that he’ll wake up or something. Quinn accepts her reality quicker than he does, and just sort of comes to the point of, “Okay. This is what happened. I can’t change it. So I better get used to it and figure out where to go from here.” She also comes to view it as kind of a second chance. She of course mourns Anthony’s death, she’s heartbroken to lose him, but she also does find herself freed of a marriage that was on the rocks and that she wasn’t really happy in. So she kind of lets loose a little bit, too. Not dangerously, but she’s not going to turn down drinks and she tries some chems here and there, and finds some casual hook-ups. She eventually finds her way to Goodneighbor, and meets Hancock, and there’s an immediate spark. They seem to understand each other in a way that she hasn’t had in her life in a long time, even before the war. I could go on. I don’t want it to sound like Anthony’s death liberates her, that’s not how she sees it, it’s just that she makes the best of the situation and lets it grow her into a person she’s happier being in the end anyway. She ends up ignoring the Brotherhood altogether (she’s had enough military in her life, thanks), and she helps out the Railroad and takes charge of the Minutemen for awhile, but in the end she’s happier not really being a figurehead of any particular faction, she just wants to help Hancock make Goodneighbor into the vision he has for it. 

Oh man, that got long, sorry for rambling! But thanks again for the ask!

[Send me a number and a character and I’ll give you a headcanon!]

[dyedmaxiian]

I know I talk a lot about how Jamie really helps to organize and whip the Minutemen into shape after he reaches the position of Colonel but I’m going to go ahead and detail EXACTLY what he does and why it really reshapes how the Minutemen are (under the cut due to length):

ESTABLISHES THE LANCERS: This is done even before Jamie becomes a Colonel. It’s his first real substantial action to aid the Minutemen. For those of you who have played Fallout 3, you could akin the Lancers to the Minutemen equivalent of the ‘Lyon’s Pride’ minus all the Brotherhood propaganda. He usually brings the idea to the General VERY early on into becoming a Lieutenant, claiming that the Minutemen need a smaller more instrumental task force for operations that don’t quite require the entire Minutemen force, but also can’t be solved by the average Minuteman. He also spins the Lancers as being Multifaceted meaning that they will be established in order to be highly functional for a variety of situations.

ESTABLISHES PROPER MINUTEMEN BOOT CAMPS: Almost immediately after becoming a Colonel, Jamie begins organizing proper boot camps in which to train the Minutemen to be more combat effective soldiers. There are a number of different boot camps that help individuals specialize in what SPECIFICALLY they’d like to do in the Minutemen, but all prospective Minutemen are put through the standard boot camp which provides them with some basic but efficient training that teaches them how to properly maintain their weapons, gives them basic search & clear training, as well as other essential skills to be more than just what would be considered an ‘armed citizen’. Some other boot camps include basic and advanced field medical training, caravan / supply line guard training, lieutenant training, and the infamous lancer bootcamp. MOST of these boot camps, once established, are then handed over to Ronnie Shaw. Jamie believes Ronnie Shaw is the perfect candidate to handle the Boot Camps as she has the right attitude and the right skillset to handle new recruits and keep them in line while giving them the training they need.

DRAWS UP & MAINTAINS SUPPLY LINES: This one is more of a group effort with Preston & the residing General, but Jamie is integral in establishing the supply lines, NAMELY because he and the Lancers do a great deal of ‘field testing’ in order to figure out the safest possible routes on which to run these supply lines. In addition, Jamie has a large role in the establishment of “alliances” with the independent settlements / cities of the Commonwealth which also plays a part in the process of drawing these supply lines.

ORGANIZES & NEGOTIATES ALLIANCES WITH INDEPENDENT ESTABLISHMENTS IN THE COMMONWEALTH: This primarily applies to the THREE most notable non-minuteman established Settlements in the Commonwealth. Those being Diamond City, Goodneighbor, and Bunker Hill. Again, this is REALLY more of a group effort, but each of the three leaders in the Minutemen are charged with a single settlement to more evenly divide the work. Jamie is assigned to Diamond City as he the most well equipped to deal with it due to experience in handling the brotherhood in the past ( namely with prejudice against non-human races ). Jamie helps to maintain good relations with Diamond City while simultaneously trying to ensure the Brotherhood doesn’t move in on them ( assuming the faction is still present ).

CREATES GREATER MINUTEMEN DIVISIONS: This is perhaps one of Jamie’s larger undertakings, he organizes actual Minutemen ‘DIVISIONS’ that help to better organize their dealings. He establishes a few major Minutemen Divisions: Medical, Production, Militia, & Research / Relief.    The Medical Division is specialized for creating, administering, and organizing medically trained Minutemen all across the Commonwealth to ensure that the Minutemen settlements are all fitted with their own doctors / medical specialists. They are also charged with producing medical supplies that can be run along supply lines and redistributed to the Commonwealth. Under most circumstances, the Medical division is headed by a specially picked medical professional, however upon its creation Jamie does nominate Curie to head the division. If Curie is unavailable he then elects to nominate Dr. Amari.    The Production Division is specialized for creating and distributing weapons, ammunition, and armor to the Minutemen. They are also granted the autonomy to establish a specialized system for secondary vending of supplies alongside the standard issued gear for Minutemen who finish boot camp. This division is also responsible for the distribution of defensive armaments for settlements to ensure that they are all well protected. This is considered to be the second largest division as the Production Division is also the first division sent to new settlements to handle on-site fortification & construction in tandem with the residents who already live there. The Production Division typically runs without a head as it wears many hats. They tend to take assignments and are dispatched directly from the Castle so it could be argued that Preston, Jamie, and the General all have a hand in guiding and offering them assignments.    The Militia Division is specialized for combat / threat neutralization. It could be considered the Minutemen’s proper ‘military’ as this division is specifically created to be as guards for settlements, patrols to maintain safe passage for supply lines, includes caravan guards, as well as is partially responsible for defending existing settlements in the event of trouble. The Militia division acts as the line of defense for the Commonwealth in the event of a large scale crisis but on the day to day tends to eliminate smaller time threats as they arise. It is important to note that when creating this division, Jamie took a great deal of care & precaution to keep them from being a brazen military force, and as such the General of the Minutemen is also the acting head of the Militia Division.    The Research & Relief Division: This tends to be the most controversial division Jamie creates. If the Sole Survivor destroyed the Institute, Jamie elects to create this division to further research on how to improve the lives of the people of the Commonwealth. Jamie tends to keep them on a rather tight leash to avoid a repeat of the problems arisen in the Institute, and as such their projects are HEAVILY regulated by Jamie, Preston, and the General to ensure they are specifically & strictly dedicated to improving quality of life in the Commonwealth as well as relief efforts. Generally speaking, regardless of which faction the Sole Survivor chooses, Jamie ALWAYS nominates Dr. Madison Li to lead this division due to his personal experience and friendship with her. 

REPAIRS & REFURBISHES THE CASTLE / ESTABLISHES THE CASTLE AS MINUTEMEN HQ: Though this one likely already happens, Jamie as a Colonel actually arranges for Diamond City architects to come in and professionally build up the Castle and create a more heavily defended and well organized Castle in order to make the Minutemen’s epicenter be more well equipped to their new method of organization & presence. Usually this consist of actually EXPANDING how far the HQ boundary reaches. The Castle walls are repaired, a defense system is put into place, and many of the destroyed parts of the Castle are rebuilt in order to help house & protect the Commonwealth. They also have a proper dock established for the Minutemen, and when Kenji Nakano is aided by Nick Valentine, Jamie reaches out and offers to contract him to help build the Minutemen a few functional ships to help them patrol the waters surrounding the Commonwealth. Additionally a cemetery is erected on the strip of land behind the Castle for the Minutemen’s ranks. Many of the Minutemen’s former Generals & key figures are buried in it as well as Jamie’s mother if the Sole Survivor completes Jamie’s personal quest. Additionally the armory gets a large make over to help accommodate the Production Division as well as the Western wing of the Castle receives a large refurbishment to better suit the Medical Division. More turrets and artillery are erected, as well as a small farm and more water purifiers to help the Castle run autonomously. Jamie also has a dedicated ‘war room’ refurbished to allow the leadership of the Minutemen as well as their council sit down and have meetings regarding pressing and crucial matters in regard to Minutemen operations & Commonwealth safety.

ESTABLISHES SANCTUARY AS THE MINUTEMEN’S CULTURAL CAPITAL / REFURBISHES SANCTUARY: This one is a proposed decision to Preston and the General, and typically consists of establishing Sanctuary as the ‘heart’ of the Minutemen. He picks it for a few reasons, the two main ones being that it has deep personal ties to the General, as well as its position very isolated from the rest of the Commonwealth making it arguably one of the safest settlements in the entire Commonwealth area. The rebuilding, depending on the Sole Survivor, can either be handled by the Sole Survivor directly, or by Jamie himself. He encourages that Sanctuary be built out event further than just the existing suburb, and establishes a FULL ‘Sanctuary City’ having the street extend onto the Hillside and wrap around Vault 111. He also encourages that Sanctuary be home to the ‘Minutemen’ people, giving those who serve a place to truly call ‘The Minutemen’s Capital’. If Jamie is allowed to handle this project, he actually links it DIRECTLY to the Red Rocket truck stop. The truck stop is used as a trading hub / market place where Caravans, Traders, Visitors, and residents can do all of their shopping. Additionally Jamie establishes a bar, guard house, town hall, and “jail” within Sanctuary to ensure that the ‘city’ of Sanctuary can run autonomously on its own. Defenses are erected, farms and water purifiers are established, and even a PARK is created around the Vault 111 area, used to ‘breathe life’ back into the area. A few memorials are created to honor pillars of the Minutemen as well as the General’s spouse if they allow it.

AIDS IN THE RETAKING OF QUINCY AND CAMPAIGNS AGAINST GUNNER OCCUPATION IN THE COMMONWEALTH: If this isn’t done by the General already, Jamie establishes a full fledged ‘war-time’ campaign to help retake Quincy from Gunner control and helps to establish a plan of action for the Minutemen to entirely dismantle the Gunner organization as a whole. Typically the battle for Quincy is a larger scale operation as Jamie by then already established the divisions of the Minutemen, making the Militia an asset available to the General when this campaign is first proposed. The Lancers are crucial for reconnaissance and Jamie even creates a plan of action for what to do with Quincy AFTER the Gunners are removed. Once Quincy is taken back, Jamie proposes creating a NEW city out of Quincy under Minutemen occupation at the discretion of the General. If the city proposal is denied, he then proposes creating a memorial for the lives lost there instead and then proceeds to continue the campaign to wipe the Gunners out completely. 

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part IV

Concussive Fracture

Trigger warnings: canon violence, language, gun & drug use. Suggestive/mature content

Game spoilers!

Bloody Mess Warning!

 Nick Valentine was hyperventilating. Catching sight of his former body, coupled with the intense, overwhelming emotions that permeated the room, he found the simple act of breathing to be immeasurably difficult. He would have fallen as soon as he stood up from the memory lounger had Hancock not caught him. Wraith produced a paper bag, seemingly from nowhere and passed it to them with instructions to, “just breathe”.

Nearly everyone in the room was crying: Wraith, Hancock, Ellie and even Valentine himself. Clearly uncomfortable Dr. Amari excused herself politely.

Standing against the wall, Deacon and MacCready remained dry-eyed. The former merc called out his congratulations, even though the whole affair was rather unsettling to him. Seeing as how the crying, hugging and all around back slapping didn’t seem to be winding down, he found a chair to plop in and tried not to look too impatient. The angle afforded him a rare look at Deacon’s eyes and he was surprised to see the high level of anxiety they held. The fact that he was directing it all straight at Wraith made MacCready’s hackles rise. Something was wrong.

Before MacCready could raise a fuss Hancock waved his arms to gain everyone’s attention and began trying to herd the group to the stairs. He had a special dinner planned in honor of Valentines first ever meal and was obviously excited. As they passed him, MacCready could see that Valentine and Ellie were holding hands. Fingers interlocked, it appeared very intimate. Deciding to let it go for now, he afforded them a smile and gave the detective a pat on the back of his own.

Sniffling, Wraith stopped in front of Deacon and gave him a grateful smile, “Thank you for this. Really. I know what it involves… what this means.”

“Hang back a second.” Deacon’s tone was all business.

Giving Deacon a dirty look, Hancock was inclined to tell him to piss off but moved on when Wraith gently touched his shoulder. As he passed MacCready he hooked an arm through one of his, “C’mon, little brother, the spooks need a whisper session.”

“Your guy did an amazing job on Val’s face. It still looks like him, but with… ya know, more skin.”

“If anyone is deserving, it’s good ol’ Synth Nick.” Deacon’s smile abruptly vanished and he removed his sunglasses, “I have to talk to you about the Gunners. You know that they started to recruit raiders to pad their numbers? Well, it’s beginning to back-fire on them. You have been destroying their leadership and things are… chaotic to say the least.”

“Not to sound narcissistic, but I’ve been doing that on purpose. I figure if things get bad enough they might want to play nice and try and see if the grass is greener on the Minutemen side of things.”

“Oh, things are bad that’s for sure! They’re running low on ammo, food… everything but chems. They can’t raid your settlements without being annihilated thanks to Daddy Danse and all his baby dragons… Uh, let’s agree that I never said ‘Daddy Danse’.”

“Ha! Not a chance! And it’s ‘Dragoon’ not ‘dragon’.”

“Right, ‘Drag Race Danse’, got it. All joking aside, the place is a powder keg. Clans are beginning to form and they are doing a lot of in-fighting and cannibalizing.” He shuddered in revulsion.  

“How is it you are so well informed?” Her eyes grew wide as the realization hit her, “Wait… don’t tell me you went to the Plaza? Deacon! You can’t do that! You are far too important to the Railroad to be running interference for me. Not that I don’t appreciate the information and warning. Well… maybe I’ll go and drop in; be the lit match, so to speak.”

“No!” Deacon reached out and grabbed her arms; driven by his urgency to make uncharacteristic physical contact, “You are the one thing they all agree on!” Giving her a little shake, he tried to drive his point home, “The clan that claims your head will establish itself as the leader. Your death has become the priority of the entire Gunner nation!”  

“So what else is new?”

“This isn’t like it was before… the Gunners… had rules and followed orders. They wouldn’t have come at you without measuring acceptable loss. Now, it’s a free-for-all.”

“What would you have me do?”

“Stay here. Stay in Goodneighbor.” He gripped her arms tighter as she shook her head, “Hancock can protect you here. Hell, you know he would love to have you and MacCready all to himself.”

She gently but firmly removed herself from his grasp, “You want me to hide. No, I’m sorry but I can’t just abandon my settlements like that. I have so many projects going… Plus, Shaun is still in Sanctuary and I really should spend more time with him.”

“You have Codsworth, Curie, Dogmeat and Danse all there with him. Strong, Cait and th’ Hounds are at the Rocket… you know Shaun will be safe. You know the further he is from you the safer he is!”

Wraith let her pride and anger override any amount of self-preservation, “Let them come at me! I’ll rip them to pieces and feed em to Strong!” Her eyes burned with a berserker’s fire and she flexed her hands menacingly, “I’m not going to hide from them and I won’t let them destroy everything I’ve built.”

“The general doesn’t FIGHT ON THE FRONT LINES!” Spittle flew as panic drove him to anger. Feeling the blood burning in his cheeks, he knew he had to be as red as Wraith was. He realized yelling at her would never work, so after several deep breaths, Deacon tried one last time to appeal to her sense of reason, “That’s part of it; you are the sole reason the Commonwealth is on an up-swing. If you were to be killed now…”

Waving her hand dismissively, Wraith cut him off, “I have already considered that and have contingencies in place in the event of my death. There is a whole file cabinet in Sanctuary filled with plans and ideas, resource allocation… a will if you will.” She tried a smile out on him for the sake of the play on words, but apparently he wasn’t up for smiles, “Everything will move forward just fine if I buy it. It won’t matter in the grand scheme of things.”

Deacon put his sunglasses back on and motioned for her to precede him up the stairs. Then softly, almost whispering, “It’ll matter to me.”

 A few days later Hancock, MacCready and Wraith were all jogging to Sanctuary via Graygarden. Someone had alerted the Minuteman to a potential attack by the Rust Devils and Wraith had agreed to look into it. Although lacking a unit from the Heavy Dragoons, Graygarden was positively bristling with turrets of various lethalities. She found it unlikely that the Devils would be that stupid, but still, a threat was a threat.

The addition of Hancock was a surprise and Wraith suspected that there had been a, “Keep Wraith Alive in Spite of Herself” meeting between her friends. She didn’t mind as it was rare the three of them got to spend this much time together. She enjoyed listening to the two men’s easy banter and especially loved it when Hancock would try to fluster the younger man with his innuendo and blatant flirting. MacCready’s reactions varied on his moods and he would sometimes flirt back. On those occasions Wraith was left feeling… warm.  

As the trio moved along and the conversation lapsed into comfortable silence, she found herself watching how the two men moved: MacCready had an easy, loping gait that reminded her of a lanky wolf and Hancock had the smooth grace of a hunting cat. Both men had incredible endurance and she knew for a fact that Mac could run the entire length of the Commonwealth without breaking stride, (as long as it wasn’t raining). Her thoughts took a slight deviation as she imagined other ways their endurance might benefit her.

Stop it, Wraith. Imagine how red your face is right now… god forbid Hancock asks me… or looks at me… Just, stop it.

Once in Graygarden, Supervisor White seemed surprised by the offer of aid, “There have been no Devils skulking around here Daaarrrrling!”

Unconvinced, Wraith and her boys hung out snacking on mutfruit for a time. Finally giving up, they left with only an hour or so of daylight left. MacCready grumbled about running through the night but Wraith only smiled blithely at him.

As if the weather had read Wraith’s earlier thoughts, storm clouds began building just as the sun lowered on the horizon. MacCready’s standard “rain whine” kicked in, “… and we’ll be even more miserable…”

“Christ, little brother! Are you a cat or what?”

“It’s fine, guys. It’s dark anyway so let’s just find a place to stop.”

The two men exchanged a look, “Are you sure that’s wise, sister? There isn’t much out here at the moment.”

Wraith waved his concerns away, “There’s an armored truck just on the other side of this ridge. It’ll be cozy but should do the trick.”

After a cold dinner Hancock volunteered to take first watch but Wraith objected, “You guys never wake me up for my shift!”

“Ok, I’ll make you a deal. If you actually fall asleep, I promise I’ll wake MacCready up for his shift. But you are on three, you feel me?”

Putting her hand on MacCready’s chest and looking him right in the eye, Wraith made sure there could be no misunderstanding, “You wake me up.”

The closeness and physical contact sent a flutter of butterflies through MacCready’s guts, “Yeah. Sure.” The fluttering intensified as she gave his chest a pat before climbing into her bed-roll.

Hancock watched the interaction with a wolf-like grin.

 The night passed uneventfully with the rain stopping around midnight. MacCready dutifully if not reluctantly woke Wraith for the third watch. Exiting the truck she found the cool, pre-dawn air to be more refreshing than the fitful sleep she had.

Just as the first light of the sun was casting a pink glow to the sky, she felt eyes on her. She tried to tell herself that it was just Deacon’s infectious paranoia, especially since there wasn’t anything showing up on her Pip-Boy.

It might be radstag or one of those unfortunate-looking crows….

Deciding to trust her instinct rather than technology she reentered the truck to wake the boys. She placed a gentle hand on Hancock’s shoulder and he was instantly awake, “It’s okay, I just have a bad feeling is all. Wake Mac up I’m going back outside.”

If she had meant gently she didn’t specify so Hancock smacked him across the face with his bed-roll.

“The shit?!”

“Awwww! You did a swear! I’m tellin’.”

“Nice… real mature.”

“Hot damn, MacCready! Is that for me? You really shouldn’t have.”

“Well, who sez it’s for you?”

“As the sexiest individual in the truck…”

“Ha!”

As much as she was enjoying their back-and-forth, she was also prickling with ominous foreboding, which caused her to shush them more harshly than she meant to, “Quiet! Hancock, go do a wide sweep. Mac, you stay by the truck and both of you stay low.”

As Hancock crept off through the tall grass and scrub, Wraith pulled MacCready to her to whisper in his ear, “I’m going hunting. You stay in cover! You hear me? I don’t know how many there are, so stay the fuck down!”

With her hand on the back of his neck and mouth just brushing his cheek, despite the danger they were in, MacCready felt the flicker of heat growing in his stomach, “Okay boss, I’m in the grass.” As she melted away into the early dawn gloom, he whispered to himself, “Goddamn she’s scary.”

 Hancock encountered them first, south of the ridge. Had the Gunners sniped him from the high-ground they might have had a chance. As it was, the 5 person group, equipped mainly for melee, would find themselves staggeringly deficient against the ghoul.

At least one of them had a powerfist…

Hancock rushed the powerfist wielder, who surprised by how quickly the ghoul closed the distance, took a step backward, placing all his weight on one leg. At the last second Hancock dropped and with one hand, drove the heel of his palm into the Gunner’s locked knee buckling it. As the Gunner fell forward Hancock’s other hand reached for his throat, crushing it easily. Smoothly using his opponent’s momentum, he popped the dying man’s body up and over his own, throwing it onto one of his comrades.

Spinning away to his left, Hancock’s right arm flicked out and a small throwing knife suddenly bloomed from a 3rd Gunner’s throat. Appearing to have almost precognitive reflexes, Hancock easily caught the baseball bat as his 4th opponent swung for his head. Trapping the bat under his arm he then drove his palm into the Gunner’s locked elbow, causing it to bend in the opposite direction that nature intended. A quick knife flash across the throat ended her agonized scream.

A shot rang out and Hancock imagined he could feel the rush of air as the bullet narrowly missed his face. He threw yet another knife as a distraction as he rushed her, twisting her arm down and pushing a knife through her hand, pinning it to her own haunch. Picking up her dropped pipe-pistol he shot her point blank in the face.

All this before the last Gunner even got out from under his dead companion’s body. The last thing he saw was Hancock’s smiling face.

 MacCready heard the reverberating crack of the pistol, “Hancock…” He very much disliked how he couldn’t see either of his two best friends. Then, higher up the hill to the north he saw a brief flash of light: the sun reflecting off of a scope.

Wraith had 3 kills of her own at this time, all in total silence. However, her 4th target somehow perceived her at the last second and the two rose out of cover, grappling.

Wraith didn’t see the sniper. Wraith was going to be shot. Wraith was going to die.

“No…”

What happened next appeared to Wraith as though in slow motion, as if she had taken a hit of Jet.

MacCready rose from cover, his focus trained solely on the threat to Wraith. Pulling his trigger, he killed the sniper. At the same moment, to his left, an unseen Gunner assassin rose from cover and shot the young man in the head from only 6 feet away. As his head snapped back, a spray of blood fountained through the air like a nightmare rainbow. Then MacCready’s body crumpled into the grass.

“NOOOOGGGGAAAAARRRRGGHHHHHHHHAAAAA!”

 Hancock was retrieving his knives and grumbling aloud how hard it was to, “find good dance partners these days…” when he heard Wraith’s agonized scream. It ripped through him and left him clutching his chest above his heart, “No. No. No. No!”

 Wraith was beating someone to death with a human arm. Most likely it was the arm’s former owner. Covered head to toe in blood and worse, she was roaring incoherently. Hancock rushed to her side yelling her name. She turned and raised her macabre club above her head, preparing to swing it at him.

Recognition flashed across her berserk maddened face and she began sobbing and gesturing with the limb as if it were a pointer, “He was right here! I saw him! Where is he?”

Taking the arm from her, Hancock flung it away, “Wraith, is any of this your blood?”

“I can’t find him. He was just here!”

“Sister, are you hurt? Where the fuck is MacCready?” In his fear and panic he grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her none too gently.

She looked up at him with a face so lost in child-like fear it broke his heart, “They shot him, John. I saw him die. But now… now I can’t find… his body.”

Hancock stood in complete shock, “You can’t… his…?”

“He fell right here. Oh… oh God…”

Letting go of her shoulders, Hancock closed his eyes. He didn’t want to look for MacCready’s dead body.

If there’s no… then he can’t be gone.

“Wraith, if he was… if he was dead he would be here. The dead don’t move themselves around and you’ve ripped apart everyone else here that could have moved him, right?” Hancock took a deep shuddering breath, “He must have gotten up and went for better cover; it probably wasn’t a kill-shot.” He saw a faint glimmer of hope spark in her eyes.

Oh please, please let me be right!

Calling his name, they each went in opposite directions. Wraith found his hat and was disheartened by how blood-soaked it was. The two rifle bullets he kept in the brim were missing and she was overcome by a completely irrational need to find them. Palming through the tall grass she almost didn’t hear Hancock calling for her. Gripping his hat to her chest she ran to the ghoul’s waving form, terrified at what she might see.

MacCready was walking north. His steps where stumbling and feral-like. The entire left side of his face and head was covered in blood and it was running freely down his neck. Dragging his rifle behind him, his arm was bent at a weird angle. He looked like a zombie.

Unlike a zombie, and somehow even more disturbing than his appearance, was his halting and rambling running commentary, “Save… her. Not this time. NooooOOOOOO!”

Chocking back sobs, Wraith ran and stood in front of him. Grabbing him by the shoulders she tried to get him to halt his march. He tried to side-step around her and would have fallen, but once again Hancock was there to catch a dear friend.

MacCready continued to push against Wraith with surprising strength and was almost dragging Hancock behind him, talking the entire time, “I can’t… not again… ALONE! Noooooo. I’m not going to let her die this time. I’ll fuCKING KILL ALLL YOU MOTHER FUCKING SONS OF COCKS!”

Hancock was unwilling to throw him bodily to the ground but was finding it impossible to stop him gently. It was as if he had developed super mutant strength, “What the hell is wrong with him?!”

“He’s concussed… it looks like the bullet ricocheted… I can’t see! We have to get him to sit down.”

“Hey, little brother, it’s okay…”

“No! I have to sAVE WRAITH! FUCK YOU!”

“I’m right here, Mac! You saved me.”

Bringing his rifle to bear, he was actively fighting them now, “Nooooo. She can’t die! Not again. She don’t see…”

Letting go Wraith took a deep breath in and in her loudest “momma” voice told him off, “Robert Joseph MacCready! Sit your MOTHER FUCKING ASS DOWN!”

MacCready dropped to his knees like a stone. Looking up at her with a shocked, hurt expression his lip quivered, “You yelled at me.” He turned to Hancock, “she said ‘fuck’!”

“She sure did, little brother. She means business, so you better mind her.”

“Well, okay.”

Pulling his matted, blood-soaked hair away from the wound, she could see a significant gash, down to bone, just above his ear. “I’ll treat the laceration and stop the bleeding, but we need to get him back to Goodneighbor; back to Dr. Amari. I don’t know the first thing about brain injury.”

MacCready was staring at Hancock with a confused look, “Hey, you look just like Hancock used to.”

“Is that right?”

“Yeah. He’s like, my favorite guy. He’s so good but he doesn’t think so. He’s always helping annoying people. If it wasn’t for him giving me a chance when no one else would I’d never met Wraith. She saved my son. I love her, but I’m pretty sure she’s in love with Hancock.”

Blushing furiously, Wraith refused to look at Hancock, “He’s still moving around too much. Would you hold him please?”

“Sure thing, sister.” Easing MacCready back onto his butt, Hancock wrapped his arms around him from his right side, “Hold still, little brother.”

Sighing, MacCready leaned his head back onto Hancock’s chest, which put his head at a perfect angle to Wraith, “Hancock calls me that too. Sometimes it pisses me off but then I like it sometimes. This is really nice. You know, you remind me a lot of Hancock.”

“So I’ve been told.”

“I miss Lucy,” MacCready’s cerulean eyes filled with tears, “she was my wife before she died.” Suddenly very still, his eyes locked onto Wraith’s light green ones with such intensity that she stopped her work and leaned back from him, “Lucy?” His arms shot up out of Hancock’s embrace and he cradled Wraith’s face in his hands. He pulled her to him in a deeply passionate kiss.  

Hancock made a strange sound, as if he’d been hit in the stomach with a powerfist.

Pulling away, Wraith was as red as a tato, “No, Mac. I’m Wraith, not Lucy.” Standing up she turned her back to the two men, trying to get herself under control, “We should go. We need to get him to Amari fast. We can take turns carrying him and we need to keep him awake.”

“I’ve got him.” Hancock’s tone was annoyed, “C’mon, little brother, time for a piggy-back ride.”

“Oh cool! Fun!”

“Now I know yer concussed…”

Wraith was repacking her field med kit, “Okay, you can have first turn, but I assure you I can carry him. Plus I have Buffout if I need it.”

“I said I’ve got him!” Hancock snapped at her, “It’s bad enough you took him in the first place.”

 The trip back to Goodneighbor was awkward to say the least. Wraith couldn’t understand Hancock’s sudden mood change. He had never been the jealous type before.

It’s not like there is really anything to be jealous of, is there? Who is he mad about? Is he mad that Mac kissed me? Clearly he’s not in his right mind! What the fuck does he mean by me ‘taking him’? He thinks I stole Mac?

They did their best to keep MacCready awake by asking him questions about whatever confused and random events he was babbling on about. He kept combining Lucy and Wraith into one person. Worse still was when he would actively fight against Hancock so he could return to save Wraith.

In desperation, she turned on the radio and suggested that MacCready sing along. It wasn’t working until Hancock started to sing, Into Each Life Some Rain Must Fall, then, MacCready immediately stopped struggling and was listening with rapt attention to the ghoul’s voice.

 Amari seemed optimistic, “There is nothing I can give him, but I believe with proper rest he will be himself again. I would strongly suggest he stays here under observation for the next few days, however.”

Hancock told Wraith to go and clean the gore off of herself in Irma’s shower, “You’ll freak him out if he wakes up, I mean really wakes up, and sees you looking like a mutant’s meat bag.”

Irma was more than happy to lend Wraith her shower as well as a (surprisingly tame) dress to change into. As she stepped off the landing, she could see Hancock had just finished getting MacCready changed. Lacking any real hospital gowns, he had put him in a pair of pajama bottoms and a bathrobe.

The silence was leaden and uncomfortable. Hancock felt compelled to do what he felt was necessary, but it would be one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Jesus; look at her! She’s fucking adorable in a dress! She looks so tired and sad… It’s best though. It’s best for them. I’m… I’m in their way.

“Well, I hope you’re happy.” He could see her confusion and that his words had already hurt her, “Deacon tried to warn you. He told you and yet, here we are.”

“I’m sorry, Hancock. I thought I had it under control. I guess I’ve been feeling invincible lately.”

“You may be but what about the rest of us?” He drew his hand through the air above MacCready’s unconscious form like he was showing off a new car, “How about the kid here? Does he look invincible to you?”

Fight back, Wraith.

Sniffling she hung her head, abashed, “You’re right. I should have seen through the false Graygarden report. They knew exactly where we would be… I should have left him here with you in Goodneighbor.”

Fight back, Wraith.

Hancock snorted, “You would have been killed. This idiot clearly is in love with you; what would your death do to him?”

Fight back… please…

“Do you care what the consequences of your actions are? Do you give a fuck about any of us?!”

That did it.

“What the fuck!?” She stabbed a finger at his chest, forcing him a step backward, “How could you even fucking ask me that? All that I’ve done has been for all of you!” Throwing her hands out wide she gestured emphatically, “I’ve practically rebuilt the entire fucking Commonwealth for you!”

“Yes, that’s right, Queen Fucking Wraith.” He turned away from her and headed for the stairs, “Well I’m done. I’m not going to follow you around, watching you killing yourself and anyone dumb enough to be with you!”

She followed him to the landing, hands out palms up, her body asking questions that she couldn’t articulate, “Are you running from me, John McDonough?”

Hancock stopped for a second on the first floor landing. With his back to her, Wraith couldn’t see how much pain he was in. Then, squaring his shoulders, he left her standing in the stairwell, tears on her cheeks.

“Wraith?” Whipping around she could see MacCready standing in the basement doorway. Arms out to either side, he was using the doorframe to hold himself upright. He had removed the bathrobe and was shivering. “What happened to me? I feel really sick. Where’s Hancock?”

“Oh, Mac, you shouldn’t be standing.” Wiping her face hurriedly, she ducked under his arm and led him back to the clinic bed. “You got shot saving my stupid ass.”

“Oh… yeah?” He was reluctant to let her go, wrapping both his arms around her. “You’re so tiny without all your stuff on. You smell good. Are you wearing a dress? You look so cute!”

“Thanks, kid.” She carefully disentangled herself from his hug and eased him down on the bed, “And you… you are still loopy. Don’t move too fast or you’ll barf.”

“Ugh! Why do you call me ‘kid’ all the time? I’m adult! And I have a freaking kid of my own!”

“I imagine it’s for the same reason that Hancock calls you ‘little brother’.”

“Where is he?” MacCready straightened up in alarm and winced at the sudden movement.

“He’s fine. He will… be back before you know it.” The lie was easier at that moment. She would tell him everything later.

Well… maybe not everything…

Even back under the blanket, MacCready was still shivering, “It’s kinda cold down here.”

“It’s because you took the robe off.” She went and picked it up off the floor and offered it back to him.

He shook his head, wincing, “I don’t like the way it wraps around my legs.”

“I’ll see if I can find another blanket.”

MacCready caught her hand as she moved away, “Would you… lay down with me?”

Wraith’s mind was a swirling mass of emotions as MacCready snuggled up to her.

“This is nice. I should get shot more often. You smell nice.”

“So I’ve been told.”

         Thank you for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see the master-link in my tags: Wraith in the Ruins. I’ll also be reblogging it from time to time. As always any questions/comments/concerns my ask is open. =^..^=

[shellheadtmarc]

v; fallout group verse - closed

This, is in all honesty, mostly because I know people have to be going, “...what the fuck,” about shenanigans.  This, hopefully, will clarify those to a degree.

Consider all of this, but let’s make some changes.  In the aftermath of the bombs, Tony and Stephen Strange ( @rahasyamay ) run into each other, each doing their own putting out of fires, metaphorically and literally.  The Sorcerer Supreme has, ah.  A lengthy lifespan, too, so Tony and Stephen end up as a close knit family unit (the romance thing just isn’t a thing for them, if there has been hanky panky it was very brief and no doubt loneliness-induced) in the years following the bombs.  Shortly before the pair follow the BOS into the Commonwealth (relative on what shortly means), the courier from the Mojave arrives in New York, Elle Days ( @gwinnetts ), and ends up being adopted by Doctor Wizard Dad and Tired Iron Dad.  

Tony and Stephen leave for the Commonwealth, with the plan being that Elle will follow them in at a slower pace (meaning once they’ve scoped things out and made sure it’s safe) on the motorcycle Tony’s tinkered on for her in his spare time.  And it...Mostly goes to plan until Elle is jumped by a courser and her AI version of Yes Man ( formerly @securitrcn ) is taken.  Elle ends up in Goodneighbor, with her Superhero Dads starting to get worried when she doesn’t arrive on schedule and they find the wreckage of her bike.

Fort Hagen is the place Tony and Stephen claim at first, where Tony takes the actual military post and Stephen claiming the Fort Hagen Blood Clinic.  The intentions are a makeshift lab for Tony, but Stephen sees potential in the clinic with aspirations to turn it into a working hospital, since he can’t use his hands like he did anymore, no, but he can pass on his medical knowledge, and the clinic will eventually become a functioning, real teaching hospital.  From here, the two agree to go separate ways, both looking for Elle, both scoping out the Commonwealth on the whole for similar and differing reasons.

Stephen will meet the Cabots and find out the Commonwealth is hiding a lot of bad news goodies of his particular interest that he wants to secure.  He’ll also end up with Croup (later nicknamed Mooch by the Avenger squad, Recoup by everyone) Manor as a somewhat makeshift Sanctum Sanctorum in Boston.  It also doubles as something of a respite for healing and a veterinary clinic!  And yes.  Bats is in attendance.   You get used to him.

Fun fact!  Tony won’t sleep in the main building.  It’s creepy in there and while yes, he knows whatever’s going on can totally be explained by science, he will later use his boyfriend’s reluctance to sleep in the main manor and use one of the smaller surrounding buildings he and Zetta ( @gwinnetts ) builds as an excuse not to.  Croup Manor is weird and no one likes it.  Except Stephen.

Meanwhile, Tony cuts a path through the Commonwealth to get information.  Diamond City points him at Bunker Hill, Bunker Hill points him to Goodneighbor.  In Goodneighbor, he meets a former Gunner by the name of Robert Joseph MacCready ( @gwinnetts ), hires him for info on the Gunners, and intends to leave it at that, intending on making his caps back with a few games of pool before striking out to see what he can see.  When he leaves Goodneighbor, he’s still got a short, smartassed merc with him, and decides what the hell, he can make use of an extra gun.  Besides, he’ll be able to foist this guy off on someone else, and he’s just a merc, right?

(Wrong, Tony.  You are very wrong.)

Time passes.  They meet the sole survivor of Vault 111, Zetta Reynolds ( @gwinnetts ).  Thor ( @torrrden ) shows up at the 11th hour as usual wondering what the hell has happened before ending up befriending a bunch of super mutants.  Croup Manor becomes something of a meeting place/gathering place/family dinner location despite how weird it is.  

And then, after years of telling the universe, “GIVE ME BACK MY RHODEY,” the universe complies with Tony.  Rhodey ( @alloyally ), still part of the United States Air Force during the Great War, having been in many of its campaigns, and playing a bit of a game with the US Government concerning Tony’s anti-war shenanigans before the war (”I’ve been told to tell you that your behavior isn’t appreciated and you need to stop.  Wanna get take out?”  “It has been noted and ignored.  Pizza?”), disappeared not long before the bombs fell.  Given his deployments, this wasn’t an unusual thing, no, but Tony has never been able to find another speck of information about him in the years since, and has assumed him dead.

In truth, in the decades before the war, Jack Cabot exchanged some of his immortality serum with the government, in exchange for tech to better examine and understand his father Lorenzo’s weird crown that has seemingly driven him mad.  The government has been trying to remake the super soldier serum since its success with Steve Rogers/Captain America, and with that serum in hand, do so again, this time with Colonel James Rupert Rhodes.  Rhodey’s been out for a while, and is discovered in stasis by the Brotherhood of Steel, who wake him, orient him, and use him as a unique asset with the rank of Knight.

You can imagine how long he stays with the BOS once Tony finds out he’s alive.  Spoiler:  Not long.  And you can imagine how attached at the hip Tony is with him after the fact.  Spoiler:  It goes something like “I’m in the bathroom, I can hear you breathing out there.” 

You can imagine, too, how well MacCready reacts to that without having a reason to react to that way.  Spoiler:  Like a jealous boyfriend.  That has no right to be jealous.  But is gonna be jealous anyway and thank God, these two knuckleheads finally talk it out.

While forever in development and constantly being added on to (including more and more people being dragged into it), some other highlights include: + Sexual tension!  Mistakes being made!  Tony and Zetta doing the do!  Because they’re both too smart, too stubborn, and you know the whole trope of, “Make me,” being sexual tension that leads to actual sex?  That’s it.  That them.  Plus he got a nice booty and Zetta ain’t stupid. + MacCready’s quest changes!  Tony moves too slow for the whole idea of affinity and gets into a snit when MacCready takes off to take care of the Gunners by himself!  Zetta tracks his scrawny little merc ass down and calls in the calvary (Tony)!  Iron Man as Iron Man gets some play!  Lots of Gunners die!  Mostly because the won’t back down! It’s a mess!  Angry Tony!  Lots of bad feels all around! + The Rock Saga!  It’s legit verse canon now!  Robert Joseph MacCready is the worst boyfriend ever! + Stephen and his crush on Daisy of Goodneighbor!  Respecting KLEO because she’s a strong independent woman who don’t need a prime directive! + Duncan gets brought to the Commonwealth!  He’s officially the most protected kid ever with Tony being Tired Iron Dad and MacCready being MacCready!  Bonus points for the toy soldier going to him like it should have all along!  Dad!Tony reading Tolkien on request at bedtime because he hates Tolkien!  Changing the ending because you don’t tell a kid as young as Duncan his favorite in the Hobbit (Kili) dies! + Elle being loved! + Yes Man being loved and appreciated and encouraged to grow as his own person! + The Overboss that leaves Nuka World because he’s sick of the raiders unruly shit is a legit former Golden Age pirate ( @pyratetm )! + Avengers Assemble becomes a thing again! + People using Tony as a flashlight!  Tony getting annoyed by that! + Changes to all major questlines to make them canon divergent as hell because this is as much fix-it as it is rp! + Colonel James Rhodes becoming General Rhodes of the Minutemen! + M.O.E. the rebuilt synth!  He’s a first run prototype of the OS and personality matrices and is buggy as hell!  Everyone loves M.O.E. anyway! + Keep tuning in to find out what other bullshit we shove in this verse because this is already really long!

Featuring: @starkunlimited - the Commonwealth mechanic/Iron Man/various npcs @alloyally - the Commonwealth angel/War Machine (Iron Patriot sucks) @rahasyamay - the Commonwealth knock off Gandalf/Sorcerer Supreme @torrrden - the Commonwealth alien viking golden retriever/ God of Thunder @gwinnetts - the Sole Survivor/worst boyfriend ever/cutest courier ever/various npcs @justificd - Detective Depression/various npcs @securitrcn - the ai that could/an albino scaley smart boi/man who makes whale noises @beenpole - Mayor Buzzkill/anime thing 1/anime thing 2 @ersetze - Egg Spy/possible various others @inplakabl - when good girls go bad @pyratetm - you don’t fuck with the overboss

[sociallyacceptablemadness]

Prompt 7!

melody

So, the minute I saw this prompt in my inbox forever ago, I had an idea that fit it.

BUT...it contained quite a few spoilers for my current series, so I can’t share that yet.  Here’s the alternative, which is self-indulgent Hancock introspection that’s...angsty but fluffy at the same time...flangsty?

I dunno.

Whatever it is, I kinda like it and I hope you do, too.

    Hancock took a long drag off his cigarette, holding the smoke in his lungs for a moment before letting it out in a long gray stream.  It was a warm night, the air heavy with a recent rain that had hung over the Commonwealth for most of the afternoon.  He’d stood in the same spot as now, waiting for her to come back, smoking through a full pack before that familiar flash of blue cut through the gloom on the edges of south Boston, just in walking distance of the Castle.

    They’d agreed to meet back at the Castle three days before, parting with a chaste kiss under the eaves of some ratty abandoned building, a safe enough distance from Goodneighbor and the Old North Church.  She disappeared with the press of a button on her Pip-Boy, whisked away to a place he could only imagine, a place where her son was and where he wasn’t welcome.  He’d hoped that, with time, it would bother him less, but each time she left, it still wrenched his gut.  She never came back in a good mood; she always seemed exhausted and worn down, despondent, listless.  However long she was gone, it usually took twice as long for her to start eating and sleeping normally again, though it seemed that each trip still took a little part of her away.

    He wanted to tell her to stop going, to stop doing something that was so obviously destroying her, but it was her fucking kid.  Even if he was old and emotionally bankrupt, he was still her flesh and blood and Hancock wasn’t that big of a dick.  He may not have understood the relationship, but he knew Nora loved Shaun and was doing her best to make it work.  He’d already shoved her husband out of the picture; he wasn’t going to get greedy and take away her kid, too.

    Hancock sighed and sucked down the last centimeters of his cigarette, tossing the spent butt into a nearby bucket and turning away.  He trudged down the stairs into the dark hallways of the Castle, barely acknowledging the Minutemen he passed as he headed toward the General’s quarters.  It had been a quiet day that devolved into a quiet night, Minutemen radio’s mournful violin playing with barely an interruption for hours.  He silently wished for an interruption, an attack, a horde of mutants or gang of raiders to come crashing toward them.

    Something, anything to take his mind of the stupid Institute and some stupid old man he’d never met.

    The lights in her room were turned low; he could see orange lantern light spilling out of the door she’d left propped open.  The radio echoed in here; she must have it playing on her Pip-Boy, too.  He took a breath and tried to plaster a smile on his face, but froze when he saw her through the door.

    She was dancing.

    She had told him about her old love for some lost art she called ballet, once pointed out a woman on a faded poster wearing a stiff, weird skirt and balancing on her toes, but he’d never seen her dance.  Not like this, at least.

    She’d stripped to an oversized shirt and underwear, red hair in a bun at the back of her head, standing with her back to him.  She extended one long, lithe leg out straight, toes pointed, back ramrod straight.  As he watched, she lifted the leg higher, swinging it back and twirling, muscles flexing as she moved.

    It was strange, but oddly mesmerizing, the way she moved around the large room, back curving, arms held aloft, dipping and swaying as the violin music rose and fell.  Occasionally she lifted on bandaged toes and faltered, but kept going.  It wasn’t anything he ever would have called “dance”, but in the small glimpses of her face he got as she twirled, he could see a rare peacefulness.  

    The music cut off abruptly to announce the hour, startling them both.  He jumped a little just as her leg buckled under her and she landed with a soft smack on the concrete floor.

    “Shit,” she muttered, sitting back and rubbing one ankle.

    “Ya’ alright, Sunshine?”

    She looked up sharply and narrowed her eyes. “How long have you been there?”

    “Not long,” he said, striding over and holding out a handle to help her up.  She hauled herself to feet and limped toward the bed.

    “Got to see my mediocre performance, huh,” she said, not looking at him as she sat down and yanked her hair out of the bun.

    “Didn’t seem mediocre to me,” he replied, sitting next to her.  She gave him a wry smile.

    “I’m more than a little out of practice.”

    “Still looked good.”

    Her smile softened the tiniest bit as she took a deep breath and let it out in a sigh. “I used to be really good,” she said.  She was contemplating her feet, head cocked a bit. Hancock followed her gaze but said nothing.  Her feet were small and bony, crossed with prominent blue veins and dotted with calluses.  She didn’t take good care of them, slapping duct tape over blisters and walking on massive bruises and hard sprains.

    “I was always good at everything I did,” she said softly, “Not trying to brag -- stuff just came naturally to me.  Dance, practicing law…”

    He sensed a “but” and waited to see if she’d continue.  She didn’t, instead shaking her head and scooting farther onto the bed so she could lean over and rummage through the nightstand on the other side.

    “Are we out of Med-X?”

    “Guess so,” Hancock replied nonchalantly.  There had actually been two full vials in the drawer that afternoon, but he’d smuggled them out and dumped them in the clinic before she came back.  He hated how easy it had become to lie to her about it and while he was sure she suspected him most days, she never said anything.

    “Use a stim,” he said, “In the bottom drawer.”

    She made a small noise of irritation but acquiesced.  Minutemen Radio was playing again, a more upbeat melody this time.  Nora leaned against him and closed her eyes.  After a moment, he could hear her humming along.

    “Dance for me,” he said, nudging her a bit.  She looked up, brows drawn together skeptically.

    “You really want to see me stumble around like that?”

    What he wanted, he didn’t say, was to see that peace in her face.  That lack of care, the openness and freedom that made his chest tight with how beautiful she looked.  He wanted to see her do something that wasn’t work or chems or worrying.

    “Yeah,” he answered, smiling at her. “I wanna see those awesome legs in action.  Gives me ideas.”

    She rolled her eyes good-naturedly and stood. “Only until the next hourly check-in.”

    “Plenty of time to plan what I’d like to do to you.”

    “Pervert.”

    “Only for my sunshine.”

    She smiled and rose on tip-toes, whirling away from him with a flip of red hair as the melody continued on.

[nukaworld]

star-lord replied to your post“star-lord replied to your post “Hey anyone want to tell me something...”

LMAO god yeah i played like, 3 hrs of the default origin before i got an alt. start mod? which i enjoyed because you don't get the benefit of being guided thru a few things so you have a few levels before tackling the wasteland. day spawned in downtown boston with the wandered clothing set, no weapon, and no money. she had to steal everything not bolted down in diamond city to afford some cheap armor and a gun to get to goodneighbor. i also have a plot where x6 is actually sent to recover day, but is held back by my friend's sole, so they have to work together. day is TERRIFIED of him, doesn't trust that he'll keep his word. eventually tho they kinda bond and he starts to catch ~feelings~. [i headcanon that coursers have to be routinely 'brainwashed' to dull their emotional responsiveness and make them docile. after too much time on the surface x6 gets hit with feelings like a brick to the face  and i have a GREAT scene where he cries into day's arms because he's never experienced this much emotional intensity and literally can't handle it.] and yes i love the institute!!! i'm a huge fan of robots so ofc i had to make a synth. briar definitely has that 'sees synths as property' thing going on but i'm sure eventually she'll get over it. [she's a newer chara so i haven't plotted that part yet.] also her first interaction with people on the surface is with preston and his crew so he absoLUTELY colored her opinion of the surface. it's bleak and gross and nearly hopeless but here is preston, this minuteman  with cobbled together resources fighting for what he thinks is right, and who GENUINELY believes the wasteland can be saved. they immediately bond and become best friends. [and later smooch b/c... duh lol] she thinks a lot of the institute scientists are backwards, and isolating themselves is a terrible method from a scientific perspective - how are they going to change anything if they're in a sterile, isolated environment? [that being said, she's incredibly happy  when she gets back and can take a shower.] she really wants to ally with the minutemen as she thinks they're disorganized but have the disposition to make a change. she thinks the railroad is naive and wasting their time and she HATES the brotherhood. she thinks hoarding technology won't help anyone and she's especially disgusted by their heavy militaristic views. god neway i could talk forevs about my ladies also i absolutely have pinterests for them b/c i love them; https://www.pinterest.com/vndeadbird/character-day/ https://www.pinterest.com/vndeadbird/character-briar-rose/

GOSH YOUR CHARACTERS ARE SO GOOD IM IN LOVE WITH THEM HOLY SHIT!!!??? I don’t know where to start this is sooo good, I’m sad I discovered the alt-start mod too late and was already invested into my “canon” start Sole, but I was at one point planing on making an Institute synth mostly because I wanted to give X6 some love (but never got to that) so reading about it now with Day made me go !!!!!!!!!!!!! Bless her this is so very Good and Pure and I love it so much! 

And you are absolutely right about that X6 feelings part, like its a head canon strongly supported by canon since in canon when he is traveling with the Sole around the Commonwealth he becomes more emotional and he starts showing admiration and fear in ways he doesn’t at first and he doesn’t with low approval - the more he grows to like you the more he shows emotion so that’s definitely a thing and I love it! I hope he and Day will understand each other and help each other because they are both synths they have been both very wronged by the Institute and they both have to discover the Commonwealth for what it really is. 

And Briar is the kind of character we need, honestly, that sentence you wrote “ she thinks a lot of the institute scientists are backwards, and isolating themselves is a terrible method from a scientific perspective - how are they going to change anything if they're in a sterile, isolated environment?” is really good and honestly very true, I love this direction you took. I can’t word how good your chars are you are always invited to talk about them to me because they are so good, gosh! And also YES EVERYONE THAT WANTS TO SMOOCH PRESTON IS MY FRIEND AND I LOVE THEM SO BRIAR WELCOME DJKFJDFHEJBFSEDJFKSENF You have two of the most wholesome characters for Fallout 4 I’ve ever seen, they are really amazing!

[boarix]

Wraith in the Ruins: A Fallout 4 Story Part VII

Well, I Guess We’re Blood Brothers Now…

Trigger warnings: canon violence/language/gun, alcohol & drug use. Drug overdose. Suggestive/mature content.

Game spoilers!

Bloody Mess warning!

Please enjoy!

  After spending weeks supervising the transport of reconstruction resources between Minutemen settlements, Diamond City and Goodneighbor, Wraith had finally come home to Sanctuary. She had sent MacCready back well ahead of her, in part so his students would actually have him as an instructor.

The derelict warehouses that had previously been home to the Triggermen, were now apartments and offices. The Minutemen and the Railroad (although the latter in secret) were both allotted space and Wraith was happy to have a pad of her own in Goodneighbor.

Hancock had dropped hints that he wanted her to stay with him but she had felt guilty, what with MacCready there. She had the sneaking suspicion that Hancock would have liked both of them to share his temporary home at the Rexford, but Wraith wasn’t ready for that yet. She had an especially rough time controlling “certain feelings” when a shirtless, sweaty and slightly dirty MacCready had helped Hancock carry lumber right past her. The two were grunting with exertion…

Whew! I need to be anyplace else right now! Where is an ice-bucket when you need one!

She didn’t even lie to herself about sending MacCready back to Sanctuary and herself to “anyplace other than Goodneighbor”; the reconstruction of Goodneighbor was her priority and not love triangles.

 After taking a few meetings and a shower, an exhausted Wraith finally flopped onto her bed. Sleep was forever elusive however, and made even more difficult by unsatisfied desires. Masturbation wasn’t something that Wraith even considered normally as she found herself wholly unappealing and couldn’t bring herself to arousal by her own touch. She made an attempt to recall the sensations she felt when MacCready had her pinned to the wall: the way his body, warm and firm, had felt under her hands. His breathless moans… Or the feeling of Hancock’s body pressed against her own… his mouth on hers… the way he tasted and smelled like mint and gun oil and….

“Hey Boss Lady, you in there?” MacCready’s knock made her jump guiltily off of the bed and without thinking she opened her door.  

Her attire consisted of a towel draped around her shoulders and underwear.

MacCready’s eyes grew wide and he blushed, “Uh… um… I was… I want…”

Thankful that the towel covered her breasts, Wraith decided to pretend she was perfectly fine with her predicament, “Yeah? What’s up Mac? Something you needed?”

“I um… Is that men’s underwear?”

“What’s the difference?”

“I guess nothing but um… OKAY!” Shaking his head to gather his thoughts MacCready did his best to continue, “Would you like to come and eat with me? With clothes on?”

“This one of those ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ kinda deals?”

“Wha…”

 Wraith didn’t realize how hungry she had been and MacCready laughed at the way she tore into her food, “Jeez! Are you even chewing? You’re going to choke!”

“Bobby Joe I swear…”

“GAAHHHAAAA! DO NOT CALL ME THAT!”

“No? How ‘bout Big Mac? Mac N’ Cheese? Mac A Roni? Mighty Mac? Mac A Roon? Mac N’ Tosh?”

MacCready was laughing and he flipped mashed carrots at her, “Stop it! You’re ridiculous!”

“I’ll just start calling you ‘The Creedster’.”

“Mungo!”

“You are!” It had been a while since the two of them played like this and Wraith was thoroughly enjoying herself.

“Ugh, I know!”

 After their meal they went and sat on a bench down by the mill. The sun had set and the air was warm and full of the sounds of water cascading to the mill’s wheel. It was a nice moment of rare peace and Wraith sighed in contentment.

“Yeah, you’re right that is the single most impressive mill ever built anywhere.”

Chuckling, Wraith inched closer to him and leaned into his shoulder. To her surprise he stiffened and then abruptly stood up.

“Well, I have an early start tomorrow and so I’m going to go to bed. Goodnight!”  

Running after him would be stupid. What would I even say? “Oh, Mac it’s cool; stuff your feelings for me in a bag and toss em in the river so we can pretend to just be friends.” Or “I’m in the need for some cuddling so let me introduce you to my good friend Mr. Blue-Balls.” I need to have some sort of conversation with both of them… that’s somehow not awkward… UGH!

She sat on the bench, spinning monolog in her head to well past midnight. At some point Dogmeat had joined her and was sprawled across her lap. Although the temperature had become quite cool, his warm presence had enabled her to remain trapped in her mind, endlessly creating and dismissing conversations between she and the two men.

She was so lost in thought she didn’t feel Danse’s approach and jumped a little as the big man came into her peripheral, “Jeez Danse, you startled me!”

“You must be losing your edge if I’m able to sneak up you.”

Wraith chuckled at his gentle ribbing and it turned into a full laugh when she realized that he had Panther draped across his shoulders like a fur stole, “Is that new? It’s very fashionable.”

As Danse dragged his knuckles gently across the top of its head, Panther flexed its great front paws and kneaded the air, chuffing happily. “This is definitely new. He asked to be picked up and it just sort of happened.” Danse had rarely looked happier.

“Well it suits you and I hear black is all the rage these days.” Wraith yawned and she could see the look of concern that crossed his face.

“Have you been out here all night?” As she shrugged noncommittally his tone changed to scolding, “General, your health is important. Whatever is bothering you… I’m not the best at that sort of thing… Maybe Curie…”

“I can’t believe you are back already. Time flies huh? Why aren’t you sleeping?” Wraith was more than happy to flip his argument back at him.

“We got back a couple of hours ago and I had to shower. Curie told me I smelled like the inside of a rotten yao guai. I shudder to think why she would know how that smells.” Danse looked insecure and he shifted his weight, “I tried to go to sleep after but, she…. I…”

“Hmmm. Thinking about Curie thinking about you?”

Danse gave her a panicked look, “Is it that obvious?!”  

Wraith patted the bench next to her. It groaned when he sat down and she wondered at how over encumbered it must have been with the four of them, “Okay Capn’ Danse, tell me everything.”

 In the end Wraith admitted that she had no real advice to give him in matters of love but hearing ones thoughts out loud and having another person as a sounding-board couldn’t hurt. “I know that she likes you…”

“I know that she likes me but she likes most everyone. She even likes MacCready!”

“Ha! Perish the thought!”

“I understand his skill but I honestly don’t know how you put up with him.”

“We can’t help who we fall in love with.” And there it was. Just like that.

Shit! I am in love with both of them! How am I supposed to…? Am I allowed to…? I don’t think I’m tall enough for this ride!

Danse’s look of shock quickly turned into amusement, as if her admittance made all the difference, “Well, there’s probably something good about him then. But I thought that you and Hancock were…”

“Yep, him too.”

“Oh wow! That sounds complicated and frustrating! And here I am fretting about the one person I’m in love with.”

“And she’s right behind you!”

Danse leaped to his feet dislodging Panther and sending the bench toppling over. Wraith laughed from the ground under the pile of animals, “I was joking!”

 Danse and Curie’s return to Sanctuary had been planned to coincide with the beginning of Harvest. Everyone hit pause on whatever their normal tasks were and Wraith was more than happy to throw herself into mind numbing physical labor. Combined with distribution management of crops and continued relief efforts for Goodneighbor, going to sleep actually became much easier for her now that she had obtained peak exhaustion.  The bad dreams still woke her up however and with no one to hold her, she often remained that way.

As Wraith’s fatigue had become increasingly noticeable Curie once again had pushed for use of a sleep aid. “It’s too much Baby Bird; I can’t be knocked out if something were to happen.”

“Madame surely can have a leave of absence, oui?” She and Danse were helping Wraith pick tatos, “I’m sure generals would do this.”

“Well not to sound narcissistic but I’m The General and it’s a bad idea for me to be off work during war time.”

Danse frowned at her from his row, “You don’t mean the Gunners do you? We have that well in hand. You dealt the Triggermen a serious enough blow that I doubt they’ll recover any time soon. Other than raiders, who are we at war with?”

“Factions of the Children of Atom, the Forged, Rust Devils, the L&L Gang, super mutants and not to mention the Commonwealth herself: rad storms, monsters and don’t get me started on the Nor’easters!”

“Like I said, mostly raiders,” Danse laughed, “and you can’t wage war on the weather General!”

“I’m pretty sure she’s tenacious enough to bring Ma Nature to her knees, you feel me?” Hancock was leaning against the wall of a nearby shed, looking smug at their surprised faces.

Curie immediately went to hug him, “Bonjour mon ami! Avez-vous suivi vos estudes?”

“Oui, prof j’ai. Tu es magnifique comme toujours.”

“Et vous etes un flirt sans vergogne!”

Wraith found the variety of emotion that colored Danse’s face as he tried to understand what they were saying perfectly hilarious and when he looked to her for help she shrugged her shoulders, “Ne me regarde pas.”

 “Where’s MacCready? I expected him to see me from the tower and he’d come say ‘hi’.”  As Hancock pumped water so Wraith could wash her hands, he looked around, clearly disappointed.

“Mac has a massive headache from his latest round of implant surgery. He’s up in his room, but I’m sure a visit from you will liven up his day.” Wraith cast a worried look toward the second story of her house, “I can’t imagine being allergic to Med-X.”

MacCready’s class was on break for Harvest and so he had the remainder of his unsalvageable teeth pulled. With powerful Institute technology, Curie had set the metal posts for his new teeth in just a few days. The customary waiting period to set the actual teeth was also unnecessary due to her equipment but without the aid of the powerful pain-killer, he was left with one hell of a migraine.

Hancock frowned as he thought of MacCready in pain, “No wonder he drinks too much.” He motioned to his own left cheek, “You have dirt still.”

Wraith playfully punched his arm while absentmindedly wiping her cheek and completely missing the dirt, ”He drinks too much? You’re one to talk.”

Hancock caught her arm and pulled her to him to seductively lick the smudge from her face, “Mmm… you taste as good as you look.”

“Did you just lick something off of my face?! Hancock! What if it was oil or… or worse?”

“You do know what Jet is made from, right? ‘Sides, I’m pretty sure ghoul drool is a universal solvent.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s water.” She did her best to ignore his look of disappointment as she disentangled herself from his embrace, “Come on, let’s go take Mac some ice.”

 Wraith had hung black-out curtains in MacCready’s apartment in preparation for his surgery. As they opened his bedroom door a beam of light passed over his face and he sat up in his bed. He looked rough: hair mussed, face swollen and eyes filled with pain.

“Oh damn, Little Brother…”

Attempting to smile was a mistake and he winced, which also looked like it hurt, “Hey man… ow…”

Wraith passed him the towel-wrapped bag of ice and his relief was echoed on her face as well, “Don’t try to talk Mac.”

“Can I see?” Hancock groaned sympathetically as MacCready opened his mouth, “Well damn! After this you’re all done then, right?”

“Shesh shaid a couple of dash, and… all shmilesh.” Groaning, he lay back down using his ice-towel as a pillow.

Hancock gave his hand a squeeze and kissed his forehead and then he and Wraith made their way back downstairs, “Damn… How did you talk him into that one?”

Wraith strategically avoided her bedroom door and instead made her way to her office. “He asked me a while back if there was something we could do. Timing was hard but we did a round this summer…” Wraith trailed off remembering why Hancock wouldn’t have known. “I’m surprised to see you here,“ when he frowned she attempted to soften her words, “what with all that’s going on I mean.”

“Well, KL-E-O has a hot tip on some ballistic fiber. She’s grateful to you so figures this one’s free. Fahrenheit told me I was under-foot and suggested I come see if I could be of use to you; if the three of us would want to go collect it. Since MacCready is out of commission for a bit and it’s been a while since you and me got into some trouble, just the two of us… What do ya think?”

Wraith’s eyes lit up, “Yes. Definitely yes. Danse and Curie were just busting my chops about going on leave and I feel that this should count! Besides, we really need that ballistic fiber.”

“I don’t know… ‘snot exactly a vacation. It still seems like you’re working...”

 The duo moved through the lower levels of the building as quietly as possible. From all accounts it had been empty of both raiders and monsters for quite some time but things could change quickly in the Commonwealth. KL-E-O had recommended they proceed with caution regardless of occupants, due to the copious amount of traps.

Most of the basement and first floor was submerged and Hancock had been making little noises of disgust every few steps, “I sure hope this is water…”

They avoided the elevator (that still had power somehow) after only briefly considering it. Standing in front of the doors listening to the button “pling” they had said, in perfect unison, “Booby trapped!”

Wraith held her hand out to him, “Jinx! You owe me some Jet.” Hancock had seemed a little confused but still reached into his coat and passed her the requested chem.

“Do you always put the same stuff in the same pockets?”

Hancock’s face suggested she should have known better than to ask, “Course! You can’t waste time being unorganized. Chem breaks are important!���

 The second floor was dryer and after picking their way past various piles of rubble they found what must have been The Grand Stair, back in the building’s heyday.

“Is it me, or does this place remind you of Faneuil?”

Wraith was looking dejectedly at the staircase, which was lousy with wire traps, “Yeah, but times ten.” As she walked to the foot of the stair a bolt of lightning flashed outside, followed immediately by a ferocious crack of thunder.

The two made eye contact and said, once again in perfect unison, “Ominous!”

This time Hancock called jinx but his request (and his smile) was more suggestive, “You owe me a ‘conversation’ I believe.”

Wraith felt herself get hot, “Oh no! Not here. We start that business we’ll likely blow ourselves up.”

“I don’t mind it a little rough…”

As if to answer him the whole building settled loudly with reverberating creaks and groans that were rather alarming, “Well, that answers that! The wind must have picked up outside. We’d best make this quick.” She removed her pack to pick out the items she would need and became keenly aware of how close Hancock was standing to her. “Um… not to be rude…”

“Oh right! Probably don’t want me looming over you… unless you want some help?”

“Why don’t you go check out the ballroom? If everyone has been avoiding this place there might still be some good stuff around.”

As she busied herself with disarming the explosives, Hancock moved through the rest of the rooms on the second floor checking containers and looking for safes. He found a promising safe/terminal combo and ignoring the computer, deftly picked the lock. The contents were rather disappointing however: $13.00 and a personalized coffee cup that read “World’s Greatest Grandma” that had obviously been painted by a child. “Why the hell would they keep thirteen bucks in a safe? Guns and Bullets cost thirty three and it was just a damn magazine!”

Already bored, he made his way back to the stair to check Wraith’s progress. She was almost to the first landing and was completely focused. After watching her for a minute he suddenly got a bad feeling and almost called out to her but didn’t want to startle her into making an error. “Watching her is making me paranoid, that’s all.”

Moving away he briefly amused himself by cutting the mouth and eyes out of a painting of George Washington (at least he thought it was) that he found in the restroom. Holding it up to his face, he recited his favorite Washington quote to a mirror, “The foolish and wicked practice of profane cursing and swearing is a vice so mean and low that every person of sense and character detests and despises it.”  Laughing at the irony of it he turned the painting back around, “I don’t think this was even ol’ Georgie after all.” He tossed the painting aside and wandered into the ballroom, “I wonder if MacCready would find that one funny.”

Pretending to have been announced to a grand masquerade, he elegantly spun round with arms out to either side, ending in a bow to both the east and west wings. The room held no great, obvious treasure however, so he walked along the wall looking at paintings. Making sure Wraith couldn’t hear him from the next room, he proceeded to rehearse a potential conversation much in the same way that she had days before, “Hey sister, I happened to noticed that you didn’t say ‘I love you too’. I know it’s been rough for you and maybe if you’re saying it out-loud you’ll feel like you’re betraying Nate… Naw I don’t think that’s it.”

He noticed the remains of a small private loge and with amazing agility, used the narrow lip of the wainscoting to leap to a tattered banner and swing himself to the railing.

Partially obscured by broken seats was a small safe, “What are you hiding?” It would have most likely been behind a now fallen painting and after picking the lock, Hancock was happy to find a more lucrative return, “Well now, six lighters and a nice .44 plus ammo!”

Packing his pockets with his treasures, imagining the smile on Wraith’s face made him happy. His expression quickly sobered however and righting a chair he flopped down and continued his ruminations, “It’s MacCready isn’t it? That fella… I’d happily jump his bones if I knew that’s what he wanted from me! He’s given me some signs… I can’t tell if that’s what he wants or if that’s what he thinks I want and I know he wants to give me what I want… mmmuUUGGHHRR!” Growling in frustration he crossed his legs and set them up on the railing, “Maybe she loves him too. That’s stupid. I know she loves him too. Maybe that’s it; she thinks she has to choose. Does she? Can I share her? Can I share him?”

He put his arms behind his head and closed his eyes, listening to the storm outside, “Would explain why she won’t let me touch her for more than five seconds.” He spent a few blissful moments imagining all the different ways he could touch (and be touched by) both of them.

Then the whole world exploded.

 Moments before, Wraith had finally made it to the first landing. She stretched and went through her pack, looking for a Nuka Cola. She saw the Jet that Hancock had given her first and picked it up, wondering to herself how much faster her task would be if she combined the inhaler with Mentats. As it happened, having the chem half way to her lips may have saved her life.

The forceful winds outside caused the entire building to shift and as the pressure on the support beams changed, it set off a chain reaction of disastrous proportions. She had just enough time to inhale the Jet and grab her pack as the elevator exploded, triggering the rest of the trip-wire traps. She leaped from the landing just as the shockwave hit and she and household shrapnel were flung to the third floor. Spun about in midair, the back of her head slammed into a wall just as she felt something pierce her shoulder. Pain and darkness closed in around her and she knew no more.

 Stunned, Hancock lay immobile under fallen debris. Gaining his senses after a moment, he pushed the rubble away while coughing and calling for Wraith.

There would be no answer.

The ballroom ceiling was mostly gone and what remained was chard and smoking. Exposed to the elements, the fire had guttered and gone out leaving behind the acrid smell of burnt treated lumber and plastic.

“Wraith!” Hancock ignored his own small hurts and ran to the ruin of the Grand Stair, “WRAITH!”

He heard only the sound of the storm and the sizzle of spent flame.

“Please honey… PLEASE ANSWER ME!” He felt hot tears running down his cheeks and he stood motionless, not even knowing where to look, “Please… I just got you back… I just…”

He saw her pack. It was hanging from a pipe above and to his left.

Using all of his strength and agility, he swung and leaped his way to the remains of the third floor. With a mop handle, he hooked her pack off of the pipe and hugged it to his chest, “Please Wraith…”

And then Hancock found her.

His sob of relief quickly turned to one of anguish: she was a mess of blood and her eyes were partially open. Trapped in a small triangular space made from partially collapsed ceiling and the floor, she had been run through by a piece of wood. She looked very dead.

“God no… NOOOOO!” Hancock had to crawl on his hands and knees to get to her. Once there he went to reach for her but was afraid to touch her and so left his hands hovering midway between them.

Then she blinked.

Wraith coughed and a thin line of blood ran from her mouth to drip down her chin, “Hancock… I… have a splinter…”

“You sure do sunshine.”

She strained to lift her head but her eyes widened in pain and she relaxed, “Could you check… my head… make sure my brains are in my head, please.”

He dutifully checked her skull, “I don’t think it’s broken but you’re gonna have one hell of a goose egg.” After injecting her with a stimpak and Med-X, he crawled around to her left side to see how badly she was pinned. Her left arm hung as if it was no longer attached and blood flowed down to drip from her fingers to the floor, “You’re going to bleed out if we can’t get you free.”

“Can you push…?”

“Sister, there ain’t enough Buffout in the world…”

“You’ll have to cut me free.”

Hancock looked at her in horror, “I’m not cutting your arm off!”

“Then cut the splinter. I don’t… have a saw. You use… knife…” Her chin dropped to her chest as she lost consciousness.

“God please don’t let her wake up while I’m doing this.” After taking some Buffout he set his knife to the wooden spike, took a deep breath and began sawing. About midway through, the pain woke her in spite of the Med-X and she gapped wordlessly, her right hand curling and clenching the air. She soon passed out which both worried and relived Hancock.

Normally it would be best to leave the impaling object in to avoid more rapid blood loss. In this case, Hancock’s sawing had expanded the wound and he needed to pull it out and staunch the flow of blood.

He pulled her to a relatively sheltered corner and removed her torso armor. He noticed the dent in her chest plate where the stake first made impact and was surprised that it even penetrated her armored Army fatigues, “The weave should have stopped it…” A terrible thought crossed his mind and instead of attempting to pull her arm free by disrobing her, he brought his knife to bear and simply cut the fabric away from her wound. There was no ballistic weave.  

He was suddenly very angry with her, “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?! WHY THE FUCK DON’T YOU HAVE BALLISTIC WEAVE?!” Using moonshine as a disinfectant he hastily stitched her up as he cussed her out, “FUCK, WRAITH! WHAT ARE YOU THINKING?!”

He wrapped her in his coat and using the remains of a fire hose, lowered her to the second floor as carefully as possible. Popping some Buffjet, he cradled her in his arms and ran through the remains of the building and out into the storm.

As Hancock ran, his mind reveled a new horror to him: this was actually all his fault. He remembered the fight he had staged in Dr. Amari’s clinic, especially the part where he accused her of not caring about any of them.

Fahr told me Wraith gave her and Michael ballistic fiber. Wraith has been desperate for that stuff. She… removed her own weave? Yes of course she did! Of course, she cares about everyone! Why, why did I SAY THAT! MacCready’s hat, Nick’s hat, Preston’s hat… oh god… MY HAT!

Stopping briefly, he took more chems then continued running at a brutal pace. The storm began to wane just as the storm in Hancock’s mind reached a crescendo.

ALL YOUR FAULT! ALL YOUR FAULT! ALL YOURS!

At a certain point he became aware that someone was pacing him. In the process of trying to figure out how to fight and save Wraith, he was shocked to see it was Deacon.

“I’ll run interference! Don’t slow down whatever you hear!”

The rest of the race back to Sanctuary was a nightmare for Hancock. His feet were run raw in his boots and his chest burned from lack of air. He could hear occasional sounds of fighting and he knew that he was pushing it too hard with the chems but he could not stop, “I’m saving her even if it kills me!”

The tower guard radioed ahead to Sofie and Curie that they had incoming and so when Hancock crossed through Big Bridge Gate, they were there to run along aside him.

“We need monsieur Garvey! Madam’s blood type is very rare. Send out Cait and Gracie! If Strong is back send him as well.” As Curie worked she called out to Wraith, trying to bring her back to consciousness. “Return to us Madame!”

When MacCready got to the clinic he saw Hancock standing in the doorway, chest heaving, “What happened?” When he didn’t immediately answer, MacCready tore his eyes from Wraith to look at him.

Something was wrong.

Hancock’s eyes were completely glassed and he was drooling. He turned his head to MacCready and reached for him, “Robert…” His eyes rolled to back of his head and he began to violently shake. As he seized he hit MacCready across the face, sending him reeling. Danse had been right behind them and so caught Hancock in his arms to prevent the ghoul from hurting himself.

Complete chaos ensued as everyone was shouting at once and MacCready’s broken nose was streaming blood. “I WILL HAVE QUIET!” Curie’s shout cut through the bedlam like a hot knife. She gave orders to her nurse as well as her extra helpers with a voice full of calm authority, “Now, Williams, you will put the mattress from that gurney there on the floor. Danse you will set Hancock on his side and do not hold his head! No addictol! MacCready there are towels there for your nose and grab charcoal and stimpaks.”

Deacon was the last to arrive, with his face bruised and clothes torn, “I just saw Cait riding Gracie out…”

“Oui. They have gone to The Castle to bring the Colonel; we need his blood.”

“They’ll never make it… Check mine!”

“Monsieur Deacon it is highly unlikely…”

“DAMN IT, CHECK MINE!” He thrust his wrists at her as if begging to be put in handcuffs, “We can’t wait for them, please!”

  It was warm.

Philippa, you can’t stay here.

It was warm and soft and dark.

Philippa… you have to go back now.

 As Wraith swam upward through the dark toward consciousness, she became aware of pain. Her chest and left shoulder hurt but it was the familiar discomfort of the nasal cannula that irritated her the most. The supply tubing chafed her ears and she hated having something in her nose. She would have removed it but her right arm had been strapped to the hospital bed and her left arm was wrapped and held immobile against her torso. Frowning at the various IV lines in her leg and right arm, she was trying to piece together what had happened. Her mind was a fog from pain killers and focusing was hard so she closed her eyes and listened to the sounds of Hancock and MacCready as they breathed in their sleep.

Her eyes snapped open when she realized what the sounds meant and she smiled when she saw them. The gurney had been wheeled as close as possible to her bed and both men were lying together. MacCready was flat on his back with one arm extended toward her and the other wrapped around Hancock. The latter was lying completely over the top of MacCready and had his head tucked under his chin.

It was just about the sweetest thing she had seen them do.

MacCready felt her looking at him and woke to return her smile, “Hey Boss Lady. You decided to stay with us after all.”

She cleared her throat before speaking but her voice still came out gravely and raw, “Look at you with your pretty smile! Yeah. I love it here, you know?” She popped her chin at Hancock, “He alright? What happened to your face?”  

“Well… he… kinda broke my nose.” Seeing her eyes widen in alarmed confusion he rushed to explain, “He overdosed to get you here and had a seizure. It wasn’t on purpose. Wrong place, wrong time kinda thing.”

“A seizure?! Is he oaky?!”

“Well he’s still pretty out of it and he kept trying to get to you. Curie wouldn’t let him cause of the tubes and stuff so he…” MacCready’s voice cracked with emotion and he cleared his throat, “He started to cry.” He sniffled a little and swallowed a couple of times, “He uh… he stays calm as long as I hold on to him though.” The tender look he cast toward Hancock made Wraith’s heart hurt and she started to cry. “Oh hey, oh no…” He stretched as far as he could reach without dislodging his ghoul burden and touched her hand, “It’s okay! Jeez you guys! What am I supposed to do with you?”

Hancock made a small, annoyed grunt at being jostled, “You guys mind keeping it down? Some of us are hung-over.”

“And some of us are just hung.” MacCready maneuvered himself out from under the ghoul, “Speaking of bones; you are just about the boniest blanket I’ve ever had!”

“Where you going?”

“I’ve had to pee for forever. I’ll be back in a sec. Don’t unstrap her hand. Curie says the nose thingy has to stay in!” He pointed a stern finger at the both of them as he left the room.

Hancock immediately stood up (rather wobbly) and undid the strap, “…tell ME what to do…” Giving Wraith a kiss after she removed the cannula, he held her hand and gazed at her adoringly, “How high are you right now?”

Wraith giggled as her head swam, “I think I’ll probably pass out in a sec. I kinda need that oxygen. Probably.”

“Probably. You and I are going to have a talk when you’re better.”

“Are you threatening me, John Hancock?”

“Never, sunshine. I’ll put the oxygen back in after you pass out.”

 She heard arguing then vague flashes of Deacon, Preston and Codsworth.

Pain. Pain all over.

 Deacon was humming show tunes.

Opening her eyes she could see that her usable hand was once again strapped to the bed, “Deacon would you free me up? I have to get this thing out of my nose or I’m going to scream!”

“I don’t know… Curie is actually pretty scary when she’s mad!” Despite what he said he still undid the strap. “How do you feel?”

“Lousy. When did you get here?” She pulled the tubing off of her ears and tossed the whole apparatus to the floor. “No offence, but you look kinda rough yourself. Are you alright?”

“Welp, half my blood is now swimming through your reckless veins, so yeah… I’m clinic bound till I grow some more.”

“Ha ha ha! Blood cells don’t swim!” Realizing what he meant she became as serious as her drugged mind would let her, “Well, I guess we’re blood brothers now.” Suddenly sad, her eyes filled with tears, “I put everyone in danger again, didn’t I? Are they mad at me?” Her lip quivered, “Are you mad at me?”

Deacon stood up and took his glasses off. With an internal struggle clear on his face, some part of him lost a battle and he stooped to kiss her forehead. Resting his cheek against hers and putting his arms around her as best he could, he whispered, “Everyone loves you.”

  Thank you for reading! Like what you read? Looking for more? Please see my Wraith in the Ruins master-link in my bio. Any questions/concerns/comments? My ask is open. Anons too! =^..^=