#and then hancock found maccready on the side of some road looking like a kicked puppy probably | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wastelandlovingscenarios · 4 years

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yayyy! new blog. so can i request on how the companions would react if the ss went out on a mission alone and never came back? the companions go look for them and find their gun, thinking they’re dead but hear hear a voice from the closet. when they find the closet, they find a gravely injures f!ss? Sankyu!

i’ll make it romancable. i just changed the scenario up a bit. ❤️ not the proudest of this but i hope you enjoy.

everyone knew that they were inseparable since the day they became official partners. wherever sole went, he always followed. it brought them comfort knowing that he was just an arms length away to protect them from danger, but now it was different. someone had ordered sole to go on a solo mission to clear out a building with a supposedly “low” population of raiders. to his discomfort, sole had agreed without a second thought and decided to hit the road as soon as possible. “are you sure about this? i can always come with you.” worried was an understatement, he was terrified. sole tip toed and placed a kiss on his cheek, her hand resting on his shoulder. “i’ll be okay, alright? i’ll be home in no time.” even with the turning feeling in his gut, he decided to trust her words.

somehow, he ended up in front of the building sole was assigned to, letting his fear overcome him. i mean how was he not supposed to? it had been three straight days with no sign of his other half and the deafening silence in their shared home had been eating him up inside. letting out a deep breath, he entered with soft footsteps, his breathing echoing down the hall. he saw how dead bodies littered the floor, the dried up brown stains coloring the pale blue walls. as he took another step closer to the hallway, he felt himself kick something forward and heard it skid harshly on the wood tiling. looking down at the item he had launched, he felt his heart stop at the familiar weapon.

Danse (after blind betrayal):

preston had followed him just to ensure his safety just in case he needed backup but he also grew speechless at the discovery. danse froze, his face full of shock. every part of himself wanted to check the gun on the floor, but he couldn’t move a single muscle. this wasn’t actually happening right? he had already lost everything in his life, but nothing matched the sorrow he felt at that moment. yes, he was sad and confused, but he felt anger at himself. he let the realest thing he had slip through his fingers like sand. “danse,” he heard prestons voice call out to him, but couldn’t muster up a single reply, “if we look, we can find the general around here, maybe even alive.” he shot preston a look of grief and anger as he clutched his fists, tears stinging in his eyes. “and if she’s not?” “then i’ll be here to help you.”

they both looked through every corner of the building, searching for some kind of sign. preston was beggining to find the situation hopeless, only praying sole made it out while danse refused to give up on the search. he felt his body suspend as he heard coughing coming from the closet near him. with no hesitation, he jerked the door open and found his other half, holding onto the side of her neck as blood dropped down at an alarming rate. he felt so much relief wash over him but was quickly met by terror as he watched the color drain from their face. “preston!” preston ran over, horrified at the sight before him, “i’ll go get help.” danse watched as he raced out the door, his eyes shooting to sole the second after. he removed her hand and applied pressure to the wound with his as he placed his forehead on hers. “sole, if you can hear me, please hold out for a bit longer, help is coming,” he choked, feeling the tears fall down his face as sole let out a small noise, “i can’t do this without you by my side. i love you too much to lose you.”

Deacon:

“this is some kind of fucking sick joke right?”, he muttered, his heart beating out of his ears. this one time, he wanted to make up some kind of lie that maybe sole dropped their gun on the way out back to hq or maybe she found no use for it but the way the blood painted it made him believe anything but that. he laughed bitterly, trying to escape what he thought was the truth of the situation. soon enough, those laughs turned into sobs as he leaned on the wall for support. he wanted to scream at everything, his heart breaking at how unfair life treated him and the ones he loved. “please,” he begged, “please let this be a joke..” he fucking knew he shouldn’t have let sole go or at least followed her in secret.

his breath got caught in his throat as he heard a noise come from the closet. furiously wiping his eyes as he lifted his gun, ready to shoot whatever came out at him. but as he got closer to the door, his heart skipped a beat as he heard someone call his name faintly. quickly opening it, he found his other half weakly staring up at him, a gunshot wound near her chest. he wanted to say so many things to her, but his words got caught up in his throat and he solely focused on getting sole up and out of there. deacon rushed over and picked her up without another word, dashing out the building. “we’ll be at hq in no time,” he panicked, nearly out of breath, “i’ll never fucking leave you alone again.” she looked up at him, seeing the fear in his eyes behind his sunglasses, “and i’ll be damned if i let you leave me, sole.”

Hancock:

“no fucking way.” he didn’t even recognize his own voice as he spat out those words. “there’s no fucking way she’s dead.” he grabbed his shotgun, his eyes darting at every direction as anger and devastation filled his core. “WHERE ARE YOU, YOU FUCKING COWARDS?!” his voice echoed the empty halls as he stomped, breaking down almost every door in search of the person who was responsible for her death. he was gonna find this person and gut them till they were unrecognizable. as he knocked the last door down, he pointed his gun at the figure sitting against the wall but immediately retreated his weapon as he saw sole looking up at him with half lidded eyes.

“holy fuck,” he knelt down besides them, his hands cupping her cheeks, “sunshine, talk to me. say anything, please.” she felt his hands shake against her skin, and sent him a weak smile just to reassure him that everything was gonna be okay. he watched as soles eyes directed to the deep wound on her stomach and hancock didn’t waste a minute, immediately picking up sole and running out. as sole was brought to dr. amari and treated for her wounds, hancock was given the good news that she would make it. he bent down, kissing soles forehead as she slept. grabbing his weapon, he walked out the doorway as the doctor called out. “where are you going?” he cocked his gun, replying almost instantly, “to kill the bastard that fucking dared to touch what belongs to me.”

Nick:

even if fear hit him, he took a few deep breaths but couldn’t help but to pull his hat down, his “heart” aching with unbearable pain. “fuck, i’m sorry sole,” he choked, “i’m sorry i failed you.” he wanted to find soles body and give her a proper burial but felt his body weaken at the thought of seeing her lifeless. he picked up the gun and placed it in his pocket, following the blood trail that led down the hall to a closed closet. with a deep breath, he slowly reached out to the doorknob, dreading every scenario that dragged his thoughts. that was until he heard a soft, pained groan coming from the other side, “help..”

nick opened the door almost instantly, his gears whirring loudly as he found his lover with a major laceration on the side of her head. he saw how the blood dried up, covering almost half of her face and a good portion of their vault suit. god, he hated how her blood painted her pale, soft skin. nick took off his coat and held it against her head as she squirmed in pain. “doll, i need you to hold still,” he tried to stay calm, but knew fear got the best of him, “i just need to tie this on your forehead to stop any further bleeding.” he took out a stimpack and injected her arm, quickly placing sole on his back and headed to diamond city. “nick.. i-i’m sorr-“ nick shushed her, “save your energy, sweet pea, you don’t need to explain yourself. you just need to focus on staying awake,” he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, “i love you, sole.”

Maccready:

“no please.” he mewled, his legs giving out on him as he knelt forward to pick up the gun with shaky hands. maccready couldn’t do this shit all over again. he couldn’t lose sole like he did with lucy, and just couldn’t afford to put another person he loved six feet under. he let out a deafening sob that echoed through the walls, breaking his promise within seconds. “fuck! sole, don’t do this shit to me right now!” his voice cracked with grief as he clutched her gun to his heart, clawing at it desperately. he was hoping, somewhere, somehow, sole could hear his pleas. “you can’t leave me like this!” his begs for her got louder.

his sobs were cut off by the sound of metal hitting the floor and reverberating through the hallway. maccready stood on his feet, gripping his weapon tightly as he let out angry breaths. he was going to kill the fuck out of whatever was behind those doors. as he yanked the door open, he halted any further movement and dropped his weapon out of shock. sole had a broken leg with various cuts littered around her body as she smiled weakly at him. with fat tears rolling down his face, he dropped down to hug sole, sobbing into her hair. “you’re okay.. we’re okay.. fuck..” he lifted her off the ground, beginning to sprint back to sanctuary, ignoring the pain in his legs. “i got you, love,” he whispered as he looked at the road ahead of him, “when we get home, we’ll get you fixed up and i’ll plan a day for both of us to enjoy ourselves.. so please hold on for me.” sole only closed her eyes, letting out a soft hum.

ps: it’s 12 am here and i’ll edit this once i wake up in the morning so pls don’t mind my writing!

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fallout4reactsblog · 5 years

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Companions react to in-game glitches and other inconsistencies happening around (/being used by Sole)? Flying on an engine, cars jumping around spinning at crazy speed, corpses/items moving like they're possesed, settlement structures hovering in the air with a single ladder piece attached, people "swimming" on land, instantly getting all items from a smallest piece of meat... (Just not normal gameplay features like saveloading and Pip-boy stopping time, but 100s of items in pockets will do)

Cait: She wiped the sweat off her brow, letting her ball bat hang loosely at her side. A trail of blood followed her fingers as her eyes surveyed the room, taking in the blood, guts, and general gore that now decorated the floor and walls. Her and Sole sure had made a mess.

They folded their arms, a satisfied smile on their face. “The loot’s gonna be great. You take that half of the room, I’ll take this half?”

“Yeah, alright.”

She moved toward her half as sole crouched down in front of a man whose head had been cracked open like a walnut, brain spilling out of the ruined shards of his skull. Without hesitation, sole picked up a lump of brain flesh, turning it over in their hands before sinking their fingers in.

“Sole, what the fu-”

Her words stopped short as sole pulled a 10 mm pistol from the chunk, looked it over and made a face, then tossed it to the side. They pushed their hand in again, this time emerging with a stimpack, which they tucked into their pocket.

“What the fuck?” Cait whispered as sole pulled out several pieces of armor, a set of road leathers, and a tattered but still-intact box of InstaMash.

Sole looked up, the box still in their hand. “What’s wrong?”

“You just- all that- from one chunk of brain?”

“Uh, yeah? That’s the stuff they had on them. Not much of interest.”

“Normal people don’t do that.”

They just laughed.

“I’m serious, sole. That’s fucked up. You can’t pull a pistol out of somebody’s brains and not expect people to look at you funny!”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

Curie: “Madame/Monsieur, do you think that man is… alright?”

“Which one?” Sole looked up from their drink, peering around the bar.

“The man over there, who is having a seat on, ah, nothing.”

Sole squinted toward where Curie was pointing, and sure enough, some strange man was relaxing next to a table, seemingly comfortable in a ninety degree squat. He took a sip of beer as if to prove it.

They hummed, eyebrows furrowed. “Goodneighbor folks sure are strange, huh?”

“I do not think he is well.”

“Maybe he’s just had a bad dose of Jet? Or too much to drink?”

“Best not to stare, I think. It is not polite, oui?”

They laughed a little and turned into their drink. “I suppose so. let him do what he needs to do.”

“At the very least, it will be an excellent workout for his thighs.”

Danse: He’d pinch the bridge of his nose, if not for the power armor, so he settled for folding his arms instead.

“Sole. Carrying all of that junk around is just going to slow you down. Let it go.”

They huffed, shoving another tin can into their pocket. “They have more uses than you think they do.”

“Is the same to be said for the empty beer bottles?”

“Actually,” they said, scooping two up and shoving them into the same pocket, “it is.”

“The alarm clocks?”

“Even more useful.”

“The typewriter?” he asked, watching them shove a whole one into the chest of their vault suit, never to be seen until they found a workbench.

“The most useful of all.”

He eyed how smooth the pockets of their suit were, despite the number of items he knew they were carrying. He was surprised they had room for junk at all, given the number of weapons, ammunition, and armor they were carrying.

“Sole, how strong are you, exactly?”

“Not sure,” they replied, scooping up a screwdriver and a hammer, tucking them into the same pocket the tin cans and beer bottles had gone into.

“Better question, how do you manage to pack all of those items into your pocket?”

They looked down at the pocket, which hadn’t even begun to look full. “I don’t know. I just put stuff into there until I can’t carry any more.”

“That works?”

They shrugged. “Somehow. How do you think I get you to carry all that stuff?”

His eyebrows shot up. “I’m carrying things?”

“Uh-huh. You’re great at it.”

“What am I even carrying it in?”

They just smiled at him. “Does it matter if I take it all out after?”

“Yes. It does.”

They refused to answer, and all Danse could hope was that they didn’t try to store things in his power armor joints.

Deacon: “Hey, sole, come over here a sec.”

Sole wiped the super mutant blood off their arm, flicking it to the side as they picked their way over to him. “What’s up?”

He pointed wordlessly at the body of a super mutant that was slowly sinking into the ground, headless. Sole stood silently at his side, watching the Earth slowly devour the carcass, inch by inch consuming it. They seemed to stand there for hours as it sank. There was no sound, no wet sucking or movement of Earth. Simply a super mutant defying any laws of physics that Deacon had ever known.

When all was said and done, and the last of the body had disappeared, Deacon nodded sharply. “His soul and body are with Todd now.”

Sole stared at him a moment before laughing, an ugly snort-laugh that turned their voice up an octave. “Todd? Who the hell is Todd?”

“I don’t know,” he said, giggling a little himself. “Someone who likes super mutants I guess.”

“He must like them a lot!”

They laughed a moment longer, then sole sighed and reached into their pocket for a tin can. Solemnly, they placed on the spot that the super mutant had disappeared.

“Here lies Howard, consumed by Todd. May he find his peace.”

“Howard is a terrible name for a super mutant.”

They stuck out their tongue at him. “I don’t see you coming up with any ideas.”

“Super mutants need weird names, like ‘Blood’ and ‘Guts’ and, uh…”

“Hamburger,” sole supplied.

He nodded sternly. “Exactly. Now you’ve got the hang of it. Here lies Hamburger. May he find peace with Todd.”

Sole placed another tin can on top of the other with a flourish, and they walked away, discussing other good super mutant names.

Gage: “Boss, I’ve got a question.”

“Shoot.”

“How, uh, solid would you say the average ghoul is?”

“Depends on the ghoul. Bloated ghouls are about ten percent, because they’re all, y’know, bloated. Your standard run-of-the-mill crazy ghoul is about forty percent. They get pretty squishy because of the rads. Sane ghouls are a solid eighty, which is higher than the human seventy, because they lose a lot of soft tissues.”

“So they should not be able to be halfway through walls?”

They hummed thoughtfully. “Not unless they’re in a hole.”

He eyed the wall the ghoul was stuck in, nudging it with the butt of his gun, and determined it to be quite solid. “No hole. Just a ghoul through a wall.”

“Gage, ghouls can’t go through walls if the wall is solid. Someone chopped a ghoul in two and mounted it on either side of the wall.”

He poked at it a little more. “It’s definitely in one piece, boss.”

“Gage.” Their tone was warning. “I’m going to come over there, but if I find out you’re fucking with me, or pulling my leg, I’m going to kick your ass. Got it?”

“Yeah, sure.”

They appeared at his side, almost scarily quiet. He gestured to the body vaguely, half-disgusted.

“Yeah, they shouldn’t do that.” Sole nudged at the thing with their boot, making a face. “Just leave it.”

“Doubt I could get it out of the wall anyway.”

They snorted, then leveled their pistol to put one round in its back. Gage leapt away as the wall suddenly decided the ghoul shouldn’t be in it and launched it across the room. Sole’s hand shot out as if to protect him, and they stared at it a moment.

“Just leave it,” he echoed.

“No kidding.”

Hancock: He stared down the road at the body of a now-dead raider, one hand gently rubbing his forehead. He turned back to sole, who was now shaking out their wrist. He looked back down the road.

“Damn, this batch of Jet is fucked.”

“What makes you say that?”

“I swear you punched that guy all the way down the street.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. That actually happened.”

“Huh?”

He peered back down the street, suddenly trying to put reality together where he thought there was only illusion. “So, how strong did you say you were?”

“Definitely not strong enough to punch a guy down the block, I’ll tell you that.”

He considered that. “So the Jet’s not fucked, but physics is?”

They laughed. “Seems so. Gravity decided to not come in today.”

“Hey, he earned it. Hardest worker around. Let him take a vacation, right?”

“As long as I don’t go floating off, I’d love to keep punching people and watching them fly away.”

“Pretty entertaining if you ask me.”

They turned to him with a mischievous smile. “Bet it’s even better on Day Tripper.”

“I’ve got some of that. Right, ah, here.” He pulled a bottle of pills from his pocket, shaking it enticingly.

“Well, let’s go find some more raiders and see if we can make it happen again.”

MacCready: He stretched out, listening to the bones in his back pop. “I say we call it a night. It’s dark, and I’m getting tired.”

“I could go for a nap,” they replied, though they didn’t look all that tired. “I think that Outpost Zimonja is close to here, we can catch some shuteye there.”

“It’s safe?”

They chuckled. “Should be. I built the place myself.”

“I guess it’ll have to do then,” he said teasingly. “Though how good your judgment is, no one knows.”

“Jury’s still out,” they replied, happily playing along, “but the other settlers aren’t complaining yet.”

They made their way to the settlement, sky darkening around them. Sole pushed through the gate at the front of the settlement, and showed him past the turrets and guard tower to the rest.

It was small but otherwise cozy, and sole beckoned him over to the workbench. “I need the stuff you’re carrying for me.”

“Sure.”

He rifled around in his pockets, passing every item to sole’s outstretched hands. That it took a few minutes was expected, but after the tenth desk fan and thirtieth ball peen hammer, he was getting suspicious at the amount of stuff he was finding on him. How did he carry that much weight? It seemed, well, impossible.

“That should be it,” they said after nearly twenty minutes, tucking a handful of pencils into one of the workbench drawers. “Thanks.”

He stared down at his thin arms, trying to imagine how he hadn’t even noticed all the items he’d been carrying. “What the heck did you do to me?”

“Oh, with all the stuff you were carrying. I just asked you to pick it up. You don’t seem to notice when I ask you to grab it for me, as opposed to when I hand it to you myself, so I just asked you to grab the junk I couldn’t carry.”

“But- I- I don’t-”

They slapped a hand on his shoulder. “Try not to think about it too hard. Let’s just get some rest, okay?”

“Sure,” he said, but the way his thoughts were spinning told him he wouldn’t be sleeping at all.

Nick: “Sole,” he said, honestly trying his hardest not to laugh, “you can’t do that.”

“And why not?” They grinned at him, hands on their hips, clearly pleased with their work.

“It’s just- It’s not right sole. You can’t put beds in walls and expect everything to be okay.”

“I think I can,” they replied. “The settlers can sleep in it just fine.”

“How the hell do they do that?”

“Simple. They lay in the wall too.”

That was enough to make Nick Valentine, synth detective, lose his composure, and he burst out laughing. Not a small giggle, either, a full laugh, one that left him doubled over and leaning against the wall for support. He hadn’t laughed so hard in a long time, but the thought of some poor settler laying in a wall to sleep had him in absolute fits.

When he finally calmed, only a smile lingering on his face, he gestured to the half-inside, half-outside bed and simply said, “How?”

“Oh, silly Nick,” they teased. “It’s on a rug! Don’t you know that if it’s on a rug, it can do anything? I can put beds through walls, I can put bookshelves though walls, I can put anything through a wall, as long as it’s on a rug.”

“Oh my God.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, still smiling. “I don’t even want to know how you figured that out. So you saw the ways you could break all the rules and immediately decided you’d put beds through walls.”

“Of course! What else does one do with such power?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. Are you going to put the bed back inside?”

“Heavens no. Then it wouldn’t be funny at all, just boring. It’d look like every other house out there.”

“It does add a certain, ah, uniqueness I suppose.”

They bumped his shoulder with theirs. “Now you get it.”

Preston: “Sole, when I asked you to build a settlement in Hangman’s Alley, you know this isn’t what I meant.”

They shrugged. “You said to build a settlement, so I did.”

He raised an eyebrow, still staring at the supposed settlement they’d built. A single staircase touched the ground, and the rest of the building expanded from that, hovering above a grid of garden plots that held the crops and water pumps that fed the settlement. As impressive as it was, he couldn’t imagine it was safe.

“I know what you’re thinking.” They spoke before he could even open his mouth. “I promise that it’s safe. I just got tired of building the same old buildings over and over again, so I wanted to do something different. I tested it before I let anyone in and I did the math, and I swear that it’s not coming down anytime soon.”

He glanced over at them, and though they were his general, all he saw in their eyes was a need for approval. Maybe a hint of embarrassment at having been caught, but mostly a need for him to trust them and like it as much as they did.

“Well,” he sighed, turning back, “it’s definitely new. And practical, given the small space.”

“Do you like it?” Their voice was so hopeful, so bright, and yet so fragile.

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. “I like it a lot.”

“Do you want to have a look inside.”

“I’d love to.”

X6: “You cannot fly.”

“Yes I can,” they said cheekily.

“No, you cannot.” He folded his arms. “Not without the assistance of some sort of machine.”

They held their hand out. “Give me your jacket.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly conveying his displeasure with that idea.

“I promise to give it back,” they huffed. “I’ll even clean it for you after. I just want to show you that I can, in fact, fly.”

He considered the offer a moment, then begrudgingly removed his coat. Their face lit up and, for a brief moment, he almost didn’t regret it.

“Alright, X6. Watch and learn.”

He watched, slightly curious, as they laid the coat on the floor, the crouched down and positioned themselves so they were standing on it. He almost protested their dirty boots on the leather, but they had offered to clean it, so he decided against it.He simply observed them grab to solid handfuls of fabric, getting a good hold on it, and then he watched them jump.

And somehow, they stayed there, floating in the air on top of his coat.

He slid his glasses down his nose, and softly murmured, “Holy shit.”

“See?” They jumped again, rising further into the air. “I told you I could fly.”

“You did. My apologies, ma’am/sir. Though I would recommend you bring this to the attention of our scientists immediately.”

They released their hold on the coat, falling gracefully to the floor. “Why, you think they’d be interested?”

He leveled a stern look at them over his glasses. “You just broke physics, ma’am/sir. I think the term ‘interested’ is an understatement.”

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siribear · 4 years

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dear claire,

she stares at the handwriting she’s become familiar with, with a particular scrutiny. his letter is much too soon. normally, they’d come after a few weeks. maybe a month, if his regiment was on the move. but she just sent off own letter the other day. no way he’s gotten it so soon. and yet.

i know this letter is early. no kidding. but i couldn’t wait for yours to arrive. you’ll have to forgive me for putting this in writing.

claire brushes a stray strand of hair behind her ear and forces herself to sit still in her chair. her roommate is already squirming in her own seat, waiting for her reaction.

if i know you, you’re waiting for me to get to the point. but first, tell rachel i said hello. she does, and her roommate’s smile only grows wider. so, whatever this is, she’s in on it. i’m coming home soon. within the month. but that’s not why i’m writing. claire only realizes she’s biting her nails when she begins to taste nail polish. claire, i want to start a family. with you. i know this is sudden. but i wanted to give you some time to consider. i’ll - and here the handwriting shifts. still his, but rougher. - understand if you say no.

i can’t wait to see you. i love you.

nathaniel ward.

she reads it. and reads it again. and once more, before she shoots up from her seat, letter still in her hand, eyes boring into the paper.

‘so?’ rachel asks, sing-song.

‘rachel, find my stationary, please,’ claire responds, eyes not leaving the letter. rachel bolts from her chair and runs into their room. she returns carrying a piece of paper and pen.

claire sits, turns back to their kitchen table. a family.

dear nate, she writes.

start thinking up names.

i love you.

claire (soon-to-be) ward.

‘that vault up there has quite the interesting history,’ deacon says, after they’ve had their breakfast in her kitchen.

whisper blinks at him from across the kitchen table. ‘and what’s that?’

he leans forward, elbows on the table like her mother hated. ‘never been opened. everyone knows about the other vaults in the commonwealth, but 111?’ he clicks his tongue. ‘nothing.’

she frowns. ‘you want to go vault diving?’

‘i would, but it’s locked up. no one’s ever been able to get in, either.’

she shrugs. ‘as long as monsters don’t come out of it, it doesn’t matter to me. wonder what’s down there, though.’ she avoids his gaze, looking down at her pipboy, pretending to double-triple check their next destination.

deacon chuckles. ‘yeah, i wonder.’

preston approaches them before they leave, giving deacon a casual nod. ‘if i could talk to the general for a moment, uh, dingo?’ whisper nods, and deacon strolls over to dogmeat to play fetch, pretending he’s not going to be listening to their conversation anyway.

‘is everything okay, preston?’ she asks with a hand on her hip. she knows she’s been gone longer than she’s been here, leaving preston in charge of sanctuary and the budding minutemen. but he’s built them up well. even a few of the newer faces are dressed uniformly, carrying their own laser muskets.

he tears his gaze away from dogmeat bowling into deacon. ‘more than fine, general. in fact, with the other settlements you’ve established, we’re having trouble communicating with them all. it’s a good problem to have,’ he assures her. ‘the only way we can get further word out right now is from carla; she’s the only caravan that’s come this far up north. otherwise, i’ve sent out one of our newer scouts, but it’s not ideal.’

‘so we need a way to communicate more easily. like - another radio station? broadcast updates on each settlement so we know if anyone needs help or extra supplies.’ she looks up at him and his bright eyes. ‘you have a plan.’

‘i do.’ he practically vibrates with an excitement she never saw in him, weeks ago. at least, not before she agreed to help him. he’s a far cry from when they first met. ‘the minutemen used to have another headquarters, far out east. before the war, it was called fort independence. but we knew it as the castle.’

she has a vague image in her head of fort independence. too much information crammed into her head in college now useless and discarded. that, and she and nate hardly traveled far from boston’s city limits. ‘used to. what happened to it?’

he grimaces. ‘they say a monster from the sea breached the walls. all anyone knows is, most of the minutemen leadership died.’ he drops his gaze, voice going thoughtful. ‘i think that’s where all of our problems began.’

‘a... sea monster?’

‘uh, yes. but i think if we retake the castle and reestablish radio freedom, we stand a better chance of keeping our allies, and the greater commonwealth, safe.’

she blinks. ‘a sea monster,’ she repeats. ‘okay. that sounds reasonable - ’

he steps closer. ‘should i have a group meet us outside the castle?’

‘ - but i think we’ll have to table it, for now.’ she watches his enthusiasm fade. ‘preston, it’s a great idea, don’t get me wrong. but if there is some... giant sea monster, it doesn’t do the minutemen any good if both of us die taking back the place. train up a few more people. i’m going to clear out sunshine tidings co-op, make a few more... stops.’ she chances a gaze at deacon, sitting on the side of the road rubbing dogmeat’s belly. ‘and we’ll come back to this, okay?’

he salutes her. ‘yes, ma’am.’

whisper frowns. ‘hey.’ she gently lowers his hand from the salute. ‘i’m sorry i haven’t been around. but you and the others are doing a wonderful job here. we’ll take the castle, i just have a few loose ends to tie up before i throw myself at a sea monster.’

preston squeezes her hand. ‘yes, ma’am,’ he says again, softer.

she withdraws, slowly. ‘i should go get de-dingo. he gets restless.’ she turns to see deacon tying what looks like a third bandanna around dogmeat’s neck, to complement the small pair of welder’s goggles upon his head. preston keeps his eyes on her. ‘i’ll try to be back soon.’

he steps away. ‘stay safe, general.’

‘what do you know about the castle?’ whisper asks deacon along the way to the co-op.

‘a lot of your people - minutemen,’ he clarifies, ‘died there. it’s a mirelurk nesting ground now.’

she hums. ‘those would be the sea monsters preston mentioned, then.’ she rubs at her eyes. ‘great.’

they cross a bridge over to the co-op, weaving around abandoned cars. he helps her over a barricade as the first set of buildings looms over the hill. a short gravel path leads them up a hill into the co-op proper. wind blows heavily through the co-op, kicking up dirt from the expansive planting grounds that surround a large barn.

the puttering sound of an approaching mister handy prompts them to draw their weapons. the robot stops in front of them, seems to look them over, then, in a rough voice, says, ‘groovy,’ long, drawn-out, and airy, and floats away.

whisper lowers her gun. ‘deacon, what just happened?’

‘you take me to the best places, partner,’ he says, grinning.

in the barn, she accesses the logs on a dusty computer. ‘oh wow,’ she whispers. then laughs. ‘this was a hippie commune, pre-war. they... stole and reprogrammed a mister handy. they, uh, named him professor goodfeels. i guess that’s where the graffiti comes from.’ she waves a hand toward the wall and the painted free the robots on a piece of plywood. she turns to deacon. ‘origins of the railroad?’

she imagines he rolls his eyes at her. ‘funny. this place is... mostly quiet. wonder why no one’s picked this place back up since.’

‘you’re the intel guy.’ she pulls herself away from the terminal. ‘shall we see why?’

they see why. beginning at the first house, they explore counter-clockwise around the co-op, clearing out the feral ghouls sleeping in the buildings. in a far building, up another hill, they find the first body that isn’t a skeleton. someone else apparently had the same idea as the minutemen, but didn’t survive the ferals. the mess hall completes their circle in addition to housing another group of ferals, easily sniped through the broken windows. radio beacon up, whisper returns to the terminal.

‘what to do with the professor?’ there’s a few options listed on the terminal: return for repairs, guard protocols, and... just be.

‘i say leave him. if anything, he’s good for a laugh.’ on cue, professor goodfeels floats by with a slurred whoa man.

whisper sighs. ‘people are going to think we’re crazy.’

‘maybe that’s my plan. discredit the minutemen with beatnik mister handys.’

deacon suggests they head back to hq to see if there’s anything else that needs doing. now that the railroad has another heavy, it’s only fair they take on another job so glory can have a day off. besides, she can check in at goodneighbor along the way, see if hancock has found anything on kellogg. they head west across the commonwealth, traveling north of boston and weaving south of lexington. deacon draws her into the shadows near the corvega factory, and they pass by without incident.

that is, until the sound of gunfire brings them to the outskirts of the town. curious, whisper grabs deacon by the wrist and pulls him against the side of a building. ‘sure you want to do this?’ he asks over her shoulder. ‘looks like gunners got someone pinned down there.’

she peeks around the corner. ‘close to bunker hill, aren’t they? maybe it’s a caravan in danger.’

‘not the gunner MO, partner. behind that car.’ he points, and she sees it, a head poking out behind a rusted bumper.

whisper squints. ‘hang on. that’s - that’s maccready.’

‘the merc that hangs around goodneighbor? what’d he do to the gunners?’

‘doesn’t matter.’ she crouches, edges around the building to get closer to the gunners. a bullet whizzes past her, flying off down the road. too close. ‘deacon.’

she feels, doesn’t see, deacon’s rifle lower next to her. ‘one on the right is mine.’

whisper aims deliverer at the left gunner. near the hip, just below the plating of his combat armor. the gunners don’t notice them, too busy aiming at maccready. she counts down from three. in sync, they fire. deacon’s gunner goes down in a shower of red, head missing. hers shouts, drops his gun, and grabs at the hole in his hip. the third gunner only has a chance to look at his comrade before deacon finishes him off. her gunner falls to his knees. she finishes him off with one more quick shot.

‘you good?’ she nods, rising. he puts a hand on her shoulder, stilling her. ‘don’t be so quick to rise above cover, there. never know if there are more. or a sniper.’

she remains in her crouch, at that, his hand still on her shoulder. one moment passes. another. then, ‘boss? did i hit you?’ maccready yells, his voice growing closer. deacon releases her then, using the same hand to help her up.

‘i’m okay, maccready.’ she gestures at the dead gunners behind him. ‘this have anything to do with those two at the third rail?’

‘winlock and barnes? yeah, guess someone saw me picking around the commonwealth.’ he sighs. ‘gunners don’t like it when their people leave and start taking jobs away from them.’

‘huh,’ she says. ‘so they’re going to hound you until... what? they bring you back in?’

maccready laughs, bitter. ‘i doubt that. they’ll kill me and be done with it. i hoped to buy them out before that. get them off my back.’

‘good luck with that,’ deacon pipes up.

‘what can i do?’ she asks him.

his eyes widen in surprise. ‘what?’

‘i’m offering to help you, maccready. you already have most of my caps, though. what else can we do?’

‘i know where they’re stationed,’ he says quickly, as if she’s going to take it back. he looks between her and deacon. ‘mass pike interchange. there’s a lift up to the interchange, that’s where they’re stationed.’

‘what kind of resistance are we looking at, maccready?’ deacon eyes him.

maccready winces. ‘a dozen or more gunners, plus defensive turrets. barnes usually wears a suit of power armor.’ he pauses. ‘and an assaultron.’

‘jesus,’ deacon curses under his breath. ‘you really want to do this?’

whisper shrugs. ‘he’s in danger unless we do. i’m sorry, i know you said - ’

‘glory hates days off anyway,’ he finishes. ‘any plans?’

‘we’re three snipers,’ she says. ‘and maccready knows the layout. we hit them before they can hit us.’

#siri drabbles #oc: alice ward #series: we will all go together when we go #hey maccready is back

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