#Hancock promising preston that the next time they go to goodneighbor he’s going to get him blackout

[theology101]

Playing Baldur’s Gate 3 and having multiple of my buddies in the party at a time, and then going back to Fallout 4 where I only have one buddy at a time makes me sad and honestly a little confused.

In Fallout OG and 2, you also have the party system that was so common back in the day of Turn Based RPGs and when Bethesda took over they changed it to just the One

With the power of Mods, however, I have my squad! Piper, Cait and Preston Garvey, subbing Cait and Preston with wither Nick, Curie or Danse coming along now that Cait’s running Spectacle Island’s Spectacular Arena and clean while Preston was promoted to Colonel and was given command of the Castle

[nightingaelic]

Do that last one about Drunk weddings for the Sole Survivor, too. I may have my biases, but Fallout 4 can have a little love, as a treat.

Cait: "Don't be makin' so much noise in the back if you aren't going to share, you hear?"

Prior to her journey into Vault 95, Cait is just as stumbling drunk as the sole survivor, giggling with reckless abandon and daring guests to go a round with her outside the venue. She enlists the sole survivor to help her change out of her dress to make good on these bare-knuckle boxing promises, but the two of them wind up forgetting about the whole thing and singing loudly over the music on the dance floor. Post-sobriety, Cait heckles the sole survivor after they pass the point of no return, but she abstains in favor of demolishing Piper's gifted stash of Nuka-Cola.

Curie: "Do not indulge too much, mon glaçon. Excess of drink is the cause of many health problems."

Curie, ever the picture of innocent poise, laughs politely when the sole survivor starts making outbursts at the party, then corners them in the bathroom when she's free and insists they drink several glasses of water and eat some mirelurk cake hors d'oeuvres in front of her. She enlists Danse to help her carry the sole survivor to bed when they finally wear themselves out, and she does it all without staining or ripping her dress.

Danse: [speechless, awkward blushing]

Paladin Danse turns beet red when the sole survivor climbs onto a chair to get the party's attention for a toast, and dashes to their side when they start to wobble. To him, a wedding is no reason to let down his guard and drink, but the rest of his Brotherhood brethren don't share that viewpoint: Particularly Proctor Teagan, who is just as far in as the sole survivor. Once embarrassed, Danse tries to stay on the opposite end of the room, and steers his new spouse clear as well. He will give up his avoidance tactics if asked to dance, though.

Deacon: "Everyone drink up, we're trying to erase any memory of this get-together in case the Institute captures us and demands to know what menu and color scheme we picked."

Given his career and his own personal history, Deacon insists on having a small affair with close friends over a large shindig. He's mostly joking about forgetting the party- or is he?- but either way, he's handing out bottles of Bobrov's Best like it's going out of business. Valentine keeps side-eyeing him and calling him an "enabler," but Deacon couldn't care less.

Hancock: "Cheers to you, cheers to me, cheers to us and the whole fucking Commonwealth!"

The sole survivor's drunk? Good, so is Hancock. Like Deacon, the mayor of Goodneighbor is handing out bottles of booze left and right, along with palming chems to anyone in the Third Rail who looks too mellow. Whitechapel Charlie complains loudly when the groom and the sole survivor start dancing on the bar, but Hancock does not care one whit about property damage on his special day. That is, unless someone starts getting fresh with Magnolia.

MacCready: "So when I said partnering up with you beat drinking myself blind in Goodneighbor, that wasn't me saying we should switch spots, boss."

MacCready is too overwhelmed with disbelieving happiness on his big day to care if the sole survivor is wrecking shop. He's too busy staring at his new spouse holding Duncan and laughing with joy to notice the sole survivor spilling drinks on other guests, but he will perk up if they manage to hijack the jukebox. He'll roll his eyes, switch the song back to something more to his taste, and then drag the sole survivor onto the dance floor to work off some of their excess energy.

Valentine: "Gonna water that battery acid down with anything, or do I need to tell Vadim to cut you off?"

The synth detective takes in the sole survivor's antics with a wry smile before pulling them aside to make sure they're going to behave for the rest of the night. Any further shenanigans will earn them a withering frown from across the party. Rather than leave his new partner's side, he enlists Ellie and Piper's help in strong-arming them away from the moonshine supply and out into the fresh air for a bit.

Piper: "Really, Blue, on my wedding day? I don't do many editorial cartoons, but I think this might warrant one."

Piper has roses blooming in her own cheeks from drinking, but she'll insist the sole survivor switch to Nuka-Cola, park them in a chair next to her and toss tongue twisters at them until they can recite them back to her straight. Like MacCready and Danse, she will also accept some impressive dance moves as penance for their crime of disrupting the celebration, but if she starts dancing too, she'll slip quickly into the same territory of overdoing it.

Preston: "No thanks, but you keep going. We'll see whose head feels better come sunrise."

On the opposite end of the scale from Deacon, Preston doesn't want to forget a second of this day and is therefore abstaining. His Minutemen compatriots aren't though, so the sole survivor fits right in with the crowd. Ever the model of manners, Preston will join in on their drunken rendition of Dion's "The Wanderer," but he'll just as quickly bow out to go grab his new spouse a drink, chair, snack or anything else they might need.

X6-88: "Strange. The sensation leaves me unbalanced, but... warm. Perhaps the SRB was right to restrict substances such as this."

The Courser is puzzled the first time the sole survivor hands him a drink, but he accepts it and downs the lot admirably, shaking his head at the taste. He likes the way it makes him feel for a little bit, but learns quickly that if he keeps going, he'll wind up draped over the nearest furniture like the former vault dweller. Once the sole survivor is hiccupping and incoherent, he easily hoists them over his shoulder and deposits them as far away from the liquor supply as he can, ignoring the impressed cheers of Deacon and MacCready.

BONUS!

Gage: "No, I don't care if it was brewed in a settlement, that stuff'll knock you on your ass just as well as the beer that's been sitting still for 200 years."

Porter Gage has been dry for decades, and his own wedding isn't going to be enough to ruin that streak. Seeing as he's pals with a whole bunch of raiders, he can't well keep the rest of them from indulging, but he can sure as hell protest if the sole survivor tries to push a bottle on him. Repeated inquiries will earn them a black eye, but he'll let them steal his eyepatch for the rest of the night as condolence.

Longfellow: "Here's to full glasses an' fulsome lasses, ain't that right, honey? Bottoms up!"

There's not much to do on the island when you live alone, other than get really good at your hobbies and drink. Old Longfellow lives accordingly, and he can out-swig anyone attending his little party, including the sole survivor. By the end of the night, those who dared to pick up a glass around the man are under the table, while Longfellow is still singing sweet, fully-coherent lullabies to his new gal beneath the glow of the bottle lanterns. Knowing him, she's probably just as seasoned at drinking as he is.

Maxson: "Dull senses make for poor soldiers, but I suppose we can set our weapons aside for one evening."

Any Brotherhood of Steel Elder's marriage is a huge deal, and subsequently warrants a huge celebration. Alcohol flows freely at such parties, and any drunken behavior on the sole survivor's behalf is probably drowned out by hundreds of other Knights, Scribes and Lancers acting foolish too. Like Longfellow, Maxson holds his own in contest with everyone else, but doesn't push those around him to keep up. Anyone counting his drinks can't help but wonder where he's putting it. If the sole survivor's not too far gone, they can spot him dumping his glasses after a sip or two to keep up the mythic image, but he'll swear them to secrecy.

Desdemona: "Being able to take a moment to breathe can be just as vitally important for an organization as resupply missions or exterminations. Stop touching my hair."

The Railroad leader appreciates being able to cut loose, but she's still too paranoid to trust any glass handed to her and favors the flask inside her ballistic weave-armored dress that she fills herself. Once relaxed, this is the only time she'll allow the sole survivor and friends to get rowdy and fawn over her in the least. Liquored-up compliments on her outfit, her leadership abilities and her organization are fair game, but any probing into her personal background will result in her simply standing up and walking away.

[thewookieruns]

Falloutober Day 4: Cloud Nine

So... @darkwolf7-26 ​ asked me this question back in 2019 about this little story. I’m going to post this on AO3 as well, but this story gets it’s own post.

Here is @falloutober ​ Day 4: Cloud Nine

Erich Richardson cleared his throat nervously as he tried to finish adjusting his tie in the cracked mirror.

“Are you doing okay?” Nick Valentine asked. The Sole Survivor turned to the synthetic detective, who had changed out of his standard attire into a much nicer suit. However, his fedora was still comfortably perched on his bald, plastic head.. Erich chuckled nervously.

“I’m fine, just nervous as hell.” he sighed, swinging his arms back and forth to try and loosen the tension in his shoulders. “I mean… the last time I did this, it didn’t exactly end well.”

Nick snorted a laugh. “That’s one way of putting it, kid.” The synth stepped over to the younger man and helped him fix his tie. Erich felt his face flush with heat.

“Thanks.” he choked out. As Nick finally got the Sole Survivor’s tie straight, Erich cleared his throat again. “Listen, Nick… I just wanted to thank you.”

“For what?” the detective asked, one of his artificial eyebrows rising.

“Well… ever since I stumbled into Diamond City, you really took me under your wing. To be honest, you’ve really become a father figure to me. I want to live a life that would make you and dad proud. Thank you for that.”

Nick stood in silence, then wrapped the Sole Survivor in a bear hug, which was quickly reciprocated. “You’re a good man, kid. You follow that heart of yours, and you’ll never go wrong.” Nick said, his voice sounding choked with emotion. Several more seconds later, the two men broke their embrace. “Well, let’s get this show on the road. I’ve got other things to attend to.” Nick said with a smile after clearing his throat. Ruffling Erich’s hair with his right hand, the detective excused himself from the room.

Erich soon followed the detective, and was soon standing outside the home he and Nora had begun making their home before the Great War in the warm afternoon sun. He quickly followed the road down the cul-de-sac until he was standing in the clearing of a grove of trees near the bank of the river that ran along the outskirts of Sanctuary. Light filtered through the branches, giving the area a dappled look. A gazebo had been erected in the clearing, and a mishmash chair had been arranged around the structure. Codsworth, Erich’s faithful Mister Handy, was busy fussing and making sure everything was in order, a bowler hat perched atop his chassis.

“Are you ready for this?” A voice came from behind Erich. He turned to see Preston Garvey standing behind him. The Minuteman had washed and starched his uniform jacket and was wearing it over a nice pair of dress pants. Preston stood next to the Sole Survivor. “Don’t worry, man. You’re going to do great.”

“Garvey is right. You’ll do great, soldier.” Paladin Danse came up and stood on the other side. Surprisingly, he was out of his power armor and was dressed in a black suit and tie. Erich had to admit that both of his friends cleaned up really well.

“Well, then, we should get this celebration started!” Codsworth intoned from across the grove. “Guests are already beginning to arrive!” And indeed they were. John Hancock, the ghoul mayor of Goodneighbor walked into the grove, Cait on his arm. Hancock looked much the same, maybe a bit cleaner, but the three men were all mildly stunned at how well the former cage fighter had cleaned up. Her hair was tied back and was wearing a green dress. Other people were also filtering into the area. Sturges came into the area, pushing Mama Murphy in a wheelchair to a spot close to the gazebo. The handyman was wearing his standard attire, albeit with considerably fewer oil and grease stains. Curie had found a blue dress, and was sitting next to a man in a Minuteman uniform that Erich quickly realized was Deacon.  MacCready had even changed into a grubby, ill-fitting gray suit.

“Well… Let’s get this started.” Erich said, feeling the tension return. He and Preston stepped onto the gazebo, with Preston standing in the center. Erich stood to his left.

Once the guests were all seated, Preston began speaking. “Thank you for joining us today. We all know why we’re here, so I won’t stand up here and talk your ears off.” There was a ripple of laughter from the crowd. As soon as the laughter died down, there was a cough from the edge of the grove. Preston gestured to the source of the cough, and heads swiveled towards the edge of the grove, including Erich’s.

There was a gasp from the crowd, including one from Erich. Nick Valentine was standing at the edge of the grove, Piper Wright on his right arm. She was wearing a very simple white, long-sleeved dress that reached to the floor of the grove. Her hair was done in a French braid, and a veil hung to her lower back. She held a bouquet of various rad-flowers in her left hand. But the thing Erich found most beautiful was the radiant smile on the reporter’s face.

As Nick and Piper began walking towards the gazebo, the guests to the wedding stood up, murmurs of wonder passing between them. Finally, Nick and Piper stepped on to the platform. Piper handed the bouquet to Nick, who in turn handed it to Codsworth. Piper reached out and took both of Erich’s hands after brushing some lint off of the lapel of his army fatigues.

“Hey, Blue.” She said softly, her eyes bright. “Come here often?” Erich chuckled, words failing him.

Preston cleared his throat and began talking once the crowd had sat back down. “Gathered friends and colleagues, we’re gathered here today for a very special occasion. We have come here to witness the union of two individuals who have found each other across the centuries. We are here to bear witness to the marriage of Piper Wright and Captain Erich Richardson.” Light applause came from the guests.

Preston continued. “Both parties here have written their own vows, and will share them now.” Preston took a small step back, and gestured to Erich. Erich briefly let go of Piper’s hands and opened the right breast pocket of his fatigues and withdrew a notecard.

“Piper,” he began, reading from the notecard. “When I crawled out of Vault 111 and stumbled into Diamond City, I had lost everything. My world, my family, my life. I’ve been out here in the Commonwealth for a while, and I’ve found everything I lost in the vault. The world I knew before will never come back, but I found someone who understands that my world is vastly different from what it was but helps me keep a hope for this new world. I haven’t found my son, but I’ve found family here in the Commonwealth in my friends who have helped me in that search. My life ended on the day the bombs fell, and somehow ended again when Nora was killed and Shaun was taken. I thought that there was nothing to live for except to find my son. But now I’ve found someone to live for. Piper Wright, I promise to hold you and to cherish you for the rest of the time I have left on this planet.” Finishing up, Erich replaced the card in his breast pocket. He looked up to see tears beginning to form in Piper’s eyes.

“Oh Blue.” she said, her voice choked with emotion. She swallowed, composing herself, then reached over and opened the left breast pocket of Erich’s fatigues, withdrawing another notecard. “I don’t know how I’m supposed to follow that,” she stated, and there was a ripple of laughter. Exhaling, she began reading from her card.

“Erich, I would describe you as a whirlwind. Traveling with you and getting to know and eventually falling in love with you has been nothing short of a force of nature. I’ve seen every facet of you; your courage, your kindness, your honor, and your wit. You have been by my side, pushing me to be a better person, and a rock when I’ve felt like I’m lost. We have had so many amazing things happen to us, good and bad, and I can’t wait for so many more as your wife. I know that by your side we can accomplish whatever we want. I know this sounds ridiculous, but you’ve made this reporter be at a loss for words, and I can’t wait to have that happen more for the rest of our lives.”

As she finished, Piper placed her card back in the pocket of Erich’s fatigues. Sniffles were heard from the crowd, and both lovers figured it was from people crying. Preston stepped forward again.

“That was beautiful.” he stated, his own voice choking with emotion. The Minuteman cleared his throat and laughed. “First, we have an exchange of rings. If the ring bearer could bring the rings forward?” There was a happy bark from the edge of the grove, causing everyone to turn towards the sound. Nat Wright was holding Dogmeat by his collar, which had a bowtie affixed to it. Nat released her grip on the dog’s collar, and the canine bent down and picked up a basket in his mouth before coming bounding towards the gazebo. Once on the gazebo, he trotted to the Minuteman before wheeling and sitting at Preston’s feet, facing the audience. There were coos of appreciation and laughs from the audience at the dog’s antics.

“There we go!” Preston laughed again. “If you two would take the rings, we can complete the ring exchange.” Piper and Erich both crouched down, laughing at the dog. Retrieving the ring, both stood up, not breaking eye contact.

“Now, Erich, If you’ll take Piper’s left hand and place her ring on her ring finger…” Preston instructed, and Erich followed the directions. “Now repeat after me; Piper Wright, with this ring, I wed thee, and take thee to be my wife, ‘til death do us part.” Erich did as instructed. Once he was done, Preston turned to Piper.

“Piper, if you’ll take Erich’s left hand and place his ring on his ring finger…” Once this was done, Preston continued. “Now repeat after me; Erich Richardson, with this ring, I wed thee, and take thee to be my husband, ���til death do us part.” Piper parroted what Preston had instructed her to say.

“Erich and Piper, I now pronounce you husband and wife!” Preston said, his voice cracking with emotion. Turning to Erich, he stated simply “Kiss your bride!” 

Erich did. And in that moment, with Nora’s ring on Piper’s finger, every stress melted away, leaving the newly minted Richardsons on cloud nine.

[fallout-drabbles-n-stuff]

Male Companions react to holding their baby

(I’ll do the others later)

Danse:

When you placed his frail newborn into his arms, Danse didn’t quite know what to do at first. Of course he wanted to hold them, but oh god..he was terrified he was going to drop them or something like that. That being said, the Paladin would sit down beside you on the bed, clutching his baby against his chest. He’d simply stare for a while, unable to fathom how lucky he was.

“Hello little one..” He spoke up, feeling his tiny child begin to stir from their nap. Just like that, Danse knew for sure, he had a purpose. As so, you couldn’t help but melt whenever you saw a lovely smile shaped his features, crinkling his amber eyes at their corners.

With everything that went wrong, with how many plans he had set only to be ruined..he’d do it all over again if it meant he’d be able to be where he is now.

Gage:

His hazel eyes would go wider than you thought possible. When you put your new baby in his arms, Gage was practically paralyzed, feeling his heart throb in his chest when he felt the baby nuzzle closer into to him. Damn..he was so weak now, maybe that’s what having a baby does to you though. No matter how he felt, Gage couldn’t resist it any longer. With a quivering lip, he’d begin gently rocking his child.

“Shh, daddy’s here..I ain’t gonna let you go, sweetheart.” He cooed, pressing a kiss to your baby’s sparsely haired head. “I promise..”

What amused you the most was that Gage stayed pretty faithful to his word. The next morning you found him trying his level best to find a way to fasten your child to the harness of his armor.

You promptly smacked him for being so ridiculous.

Hancock:

His little miracle.

That’s all he could think whenever his baby was placed into his arms. Due to his..well, his ghoulification, he wasn’t sure that this would even be possible. Even more so, your pregnancy wasn’t the easiest and he had done his best to prepare for the worst..and yet here he was. Tears would brim his eyes as he peered down upon his baby, rolling down his cheeks with a sniffle.

He knew that with his child being born there would have to be a lot of shaping up that some residents of Goodneighbor likely would approve of but, as he looked down at the innocent being cradled in his arms, he knew that he’d do anything for them.

Macready:

Having experienced it before, Mac knew exactly how to hold the child. Making sure to support his baby’s head and back with one arm and the other arm protectively holding it close to him. Even though it wasn’t the first time, he still couldn’t help but get teary eyed.

With a soft chuckle he’d brush what little hair the child had back and away from its face, smiling brightly when they opened their eyes to look at him.

“Hey there beautiful..glad to see you’re awake.” And just like that, he’d start crying- lifting the baby up so he could kiss their forehead.

This was his second chance. He was going to be sure he wasn’t going to blow it.

Maxson:

From the time he was old enough to learn about that kind of stuff, he knew he was expected to have as many children as possible..he knew that the lineage of his family depended upon it. However, even with years of expecting himself to have children, nothing would ever prepare him for when you placed not one, but both of his babies in his arms.

God he still couldn’t believe you managed to carry twins.

Nonetheless, he’d stare down at the two dark haired babes with absolute wonder in his eyes. He made these? Well..he did have some help but still..wow.

“They’re perfect..” He’d whisper to you with wide icy eyes, not wishing to wake either of them up from their peaceful slumber. “Perfect..”

Preston:

He’d enthusiastically take them from your arms, a big warm smile on his face as he did. He wasn’t too spooked, having already held a plethora of babies in his lifetime..hell he even helped birth a couple. But this was different, this is his very own little one. Feeling his smile only widen, he sat down in an old rocking chair.

“You’re precious..” He’d mutter, slowly beginning to rock. “Daddy already loves you so much.”

Closing his eyes, he’d clutch into his baby just the slightest bit tighter to his chest. Sometime later he even fell asleep with them in his arms, having to be woken up by you.

[returnn-of-the-mac]

FO4 Romanced Companions (+Maxson) React: SS saying "I can't do this" before having a breakdown over something that seems so small.

I’m sorry this took so long! I honestly had some pretty bad writer’s block. I’ve been working on this on and off for several weeks. I was finally able to finish the last few companions though, so we’re golden! Please enjoy!

FO4 (❤️) Companions (+Nick, Deacon, & Maxson) React: Sole Having a Breakdown

Preston:

After walking in an uncomfortable silence for several hours, Preston decided to address it. He turned around to see Sole lagging behind.

“Babe, is everything alright?” the Colonel asked, concerned, “You haven’t been yourself today.”

Sole frowned and looked at the ground.

“[Name]?”

Sole lugged themself over to their lover and collapsed in his arms. Preston was surprised, but immediately composed himself.

“Shh, it’s okay,” he cooed, “Let it out.”

“I can’t do this!” Sole sobbed.

Preston held Sole and let them cry. A part of them wondered if he had overwhelmed them by asking them to help so many settlements back-to-back.

“[Name], I love you. And if you’re ever feeling down or overwhelmed, just know that I’m always going to be here for you.”

Sole mustered a smile and Preston gave them a gentle peck on the cheek.

“I’m glad to see you’re feeling better.”

Piper:

“Hey slowpoke! Hurry up,” the reporter teased, “I don’t have all day!”

Sole frowned and ignored the comment. They were too busy trying contain themselves. Unfortunately, the lack of an answer concerned Piper.

“Blue? Why so quiet? You always have a killer clapback.”

Sole— who could no longer hold back their tears— looked at the ground.

“I can’t do it.”

“Oh, Blue. Do what?” Piper asked, “Come here.”

The reporter wrapped her arms around her lover and held them close.

“It must be exhausting running around the Commonwealth 24/7. You need a break.”

Sole grunted and Piper shook her head.

“You’re not changing my mind. You need a break. Why don’t we do something fun? We can shop around Diamond City for a bit and then get some dinner?”

Sole eventually complied and the reporter beamed.

“Great! Oh man, this is so exciting! I don’t think I’ve ever been on an actual date with you, Blue!”

Cait:

Cait noticed the absence of her partner and turned around.

“Darlin?”

Sole had crumbled to the ground, tears streaming down their face.

“Ah, don’t ye start blubberin on me,” Cait whined.

Sole‘s face twisted.

“What’s the matter?”

“I can’t do this!” Sole burst, causing the redhead to shift uncomfortably.

Cait thought about what Sole had been doing lately, and immediately realized that Sole’s breakdown was stress-induced. The concerned redhead pulled her lover into her arms.

“Well, I have to give ye credit; I couldn’t even imagine runnin mission after mission. I’m sure it wears ye down.”

Sole nodded and Cait continued to hold them.

“I know I’m gonna sound like a damn hypocrite for sayin this, but you should focus on takin care of yerself. I love ye, and I’d hate to see ye run yerself into the ground.”

MacCready:

“Didn’t realize we’d be walking at turtle speed today,” MacCready called, “Maybe if you didn’t pick up every teddy bear you saw—”

He turned to see Sole looking down, shoulders slumped.

“[Name]?” The merc asked, concerned, “Are you…crying?”

Sole turned away from him.

“Aw come on, I was just teasing you,” MacCready reassured, wrapping an arm around their shoulder and pulling them close, “I don’t actually mind carrying your bears. I’ve got four on me as we speak.”

Sole looked at him, tears streaming down their face.

“I can’t do this!”

“Do what?”

Sole didn’t answer.

“Come on, I’m going to need some context here,” the merc pled, “Tell me what’s wrong, beautiful. I want to help you.”

Sole collapsed into their lover’s arms and began sobbing into his shoulder. MacCready held Sole, and it dawned on him that they might be having a stress-induced breakdown.

“[Name], you’ve been through so much. You need to take a break.”

Sole stared at their lover for a few moments before nodding in agreement.

“Why don’t we head back to Goodneighbor for a little while? We can get some drinks at the Third Rail and hang out with Hancock. I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”

Sole, managing to crack a small smile, agreed, and the pair made their way toward the city.

Gage:

“Boss, why’re ya draggin your feet? Ya good?”

Sole didn’t answer. They weren’t sure they could speak without breaking down.

“Boss?”

Gage approached his lover cautiously, unable to figure out what was wrong.

“You can tell me if there’s somethin botherin you. I promise I won’t pick on ya like I do Mason because, yanno, I actually like you.”

With that, Sole threw themself into the Raider’s arms. He awkwardly held them as they cried into his chest.

“Hey, what’s the deal? Did someone mess with you? Do I gotta go kill somebody?”

Sole shook their head.

“I can’t do this!”

Gage cocked his head to the side, trying to figure out what Sole meant. After a few seconds, he finally spoke again.

“You stressed, babe,” he asked softly.

Sole nodded and to their surprise, Gage held them tighter.

“Yeah, I feel. It can be rough. But ya know what? You’re doin a hell of a good job. And I’m proud of ya. No shit.”

Sole looked up at him, and the Raider smirked.

“Now enough of this…er…mushiness. Let’s get back to business, yeah?”

Deacon:

Deacon noticed his partner’s absence and looked around. He spotted them a little ways out and and cupped his hands.

“Hey [name]! Why’re you moving so slow? Did you stub your toe or something?”

Sole looked up, but they weren’t smiling. Deacon knew something was wrong.

“C’mooon!” he pressed, approaching his lover and loosely throwing an arm around them, “Turn that frown upside down!”

Sole immediately started bawling and threw themself into their lover’s arms. The Railroad agent jumped a bit.

“Woah! Hey, are you alright? Was it something I said?”

Sole shook their head.

“I can’t do this!”

“[Name], it’s going to be okay,” Deacon stated, genuinely concerned, “You can talk to me, you know. I’m here for you!”

Sole continued to cry and Deacon stayed by their side the entire time, sympathetically rubbing their back.

“C’mon, you can get through this,” he reassured, “Are you stressed? Is that what the problem is?”

Sole nodded and Deacon thought for a moment.

“Well. Then how about we take a few days off? We can’t have you burning out!”

Sole looked at the ground.

“The world won’t burn to the ground if you relax for, like, 72 hours. Besides! We should do something fun. I think a date night is well overdue, babycakes.”

Sole rolled their eyes at the nickname, but liked the idea of having a fun little vacation with their lover.

Nick:

“Are you feeling alright, [name]? There’s something…off.”

Sole shook their head and Nick chuckled.

“Dear, I think you’re forgetting I’m a detective. I read body language for a living. Now please— if you’re comfortable, of course— would you mind telling me why you’ve been so quiet? Is there any way I can help you?”

Sole made eye contact with their lover and tears immediately began streaming down their cheeks.

“Honey?”

Sole sniffled and the detective opened his arms. Accepting the gesture, Sole latched onto their lover and cried into his jacket.

“I can’t do this.”

Nick gently rubbed Sole’s back and kissed the top of their head.

“Shh, it’s alright. Deep breaths, okay? Let’s try to calm down.”

Sole obeyed and tried to control their breathing.

“You’re obviously…stressed. Beyond that, even,” he commented, concerned, “Dear, you need to take care of yourself. Everyone needs a break, including you.”

Sole loomed up at their lover and he brushed aside strands of hair that were matted to their tear-soaked face.

“Why don’t we head back to Diamond City and have a relaxing little break, alright? We can stay at the agency. I’m sure Ellie will be delighted to see you again.”

Sole nodded and Nick looked relieved.

“Glad to see you’re onboard with this. Now how does Power Noodles for dinner tonight sound?”

Sole beamed and the detective gave them a quick kiss.

“Alright then. Lead the way.”

Curie:

“My love? Are you alright,” Curie called, backtracking toward Sole, “Are you fatigued?”

Sole shook their head, but Curie still looked concerned.

“Please, my dear, eef zomething is wrong I want to ‘elp you,” She stated, wrapping her arms around Sole, “‘ugging ees biologically good for ze mind, body, and zoul! Did you know?”

Sole immediately broke down and their lover held them tighter.

“Shhhh…” the synth soothed, rubbing Sole’s back, “Oh, [Madame/Moniessier]. I knew you were noyt yourzelf today.”

“I can’t do this.”

“Ah. You must be zo ztressed. I can’t even imagine.”

Sole continued to cry as their lover held them.

“But my dear. I ‘ave a zurprise for you.”

Sole let go of theirlover as she fished through her bag. After a few moments, she pulled out a flakey golden pastry with a red filling.

“You zaid you ‘ave a sweet tooth, [Madame/Moniessier], and I knew you were veeling down. Zo

I managed to make zome yummy tarberry tarts zis morning bevore you woke up!”

Sole looked down at the dessert, and then at their lover who was beaming. The tears of sadness quickly turned into tears of gratitude as they pulled Curie into a tight embrace.

“I’m pleased to zee zat you’re mood ‘as improved, my dear,” Curie exclaime, planting a kiss on Sole’s cheek, “I love you zo much!”

Hancock:

“Ya still back there, hot stuff?” Hancock chuckled, looking over his shoulder at his lover who was lagging behind.

Sole nodded and picked up their speed a bit. When the finally caught up to the ghoul they smiled, but their lover could tell something was off.

“You good, gorgeous?”

Sole nodded.

“You sure? I sense some pain behind those eyes.”

Sole knew the gig was up, and they immediately dropped the facade. They fell into Hancocks arms and bawled into his jacket.

“I can’t do this.”

Hancock frowned and held his lover close, rocking them slightly.

“It’s gonna be okay. You’ve just gotta...chill out a bit. Take a break. Relax.”

Sole looked up and the ghoul wiped away some stray tears. He then smiled.

“How about we head back to Goodneighbor, yeah? We can just chill out, do some chems, have a good time. You dig?”

Sole nodded and Hancock smirked.

“Excellent! That’s what I like do hear.”

Danse:

“…And at this pace we should reach our next checkpoint by 19:00.”

Danse turned around and noticed Sole lagging far behind. This was unusual.

“[Name]? Are you alright?”

Sole nodded and tried to force a smile, but their face immediately fell as tears cascaded down their face.

“I can’t do this!”

Danse felt an immediate pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry. Did I push you too hard?”

Sole shook their head and Danse frowned. He approached his lover and pulled them into a tight hug, rubbing their back to soothe them.

“You haven’t taken a break since you destroyed the Institute, have you?”

Sole muffled a ‘yes, I have’ into their lover’s chest, and Danse immediately pulled away.

He looked at Sole sternly.

“Don’t lie to me, soldier.”

Sole sighed in defeat; they knew they’d been caught. Danse frowned and enveloped them again.

“The checkpoint can wait until tomorrow. We can bivouac here for the night,” he stated, “You need to take a break.”

Sole looked up at him, as if about to argue, and he gave them a gentle peck on the nose.

“That’s an order.”

Maxson:

“How’re you holding up back there, Sentinel,” the Elder asked, concerned, “You have a distinct lack of energy today. I’m a bit worried.”

Sole tried to deny that anything was wrong, but their words got caught in their throat.

“If there’s anything I can do to make you feel better, please let me know.”

At that moment, Sole threw themselves into Maxson’s arms and started sobbing.

“Sent— [name]! What’s the matter? Why are you so upset?”

“I can’t do this!”

Maxson firmly held Sole’s shoulders and crouched to make direct eye contact with them.

“Whatever’s troubling you, [name], please let me know. I want to help you.”

Sole sniffled, but Maxson held their gaze.

“Is it stress-related?”

Sole nodded and Maxson closed his eyes. He pulled his lover into a firm embrace.

“I’m sorry. For making you do assignment after assignment. I understand you’re long overdue for some R&R, and I can respect that. Please take a rest. It’s painful to see a [man/woman] as strong as yourself fall apart.”

[actuallykiwi]

OC-tober 7th: Pre and Post Game Life

OC: Annie Sinclair, Alec Sinclair / Featuring: Codsworth, Nick, Hancock, mentioned names

Enjoy :) 

***********************

Spring would always be Annie’s favorite season, but man she loved fall, too. Especially since the weather was just perfect for a Saturday. 

October 23, 2077 was her first day off from the day care in weeks, and she was looking forward to it. She lie in bed and remembered telling the kids in her class yesterday about how excited she was to go see a movie with her best friend, walk around the park, and then have her favorite meal with Alec for dinner.

So when she rose from her pillow that morning, little did she know her plans would change drastically. 

“Morning, Codsworth!” She said cheerfully as she approached him in the kitchen. 

“Ah, good morning, mum! Your coffee; 173.5 degrees Fahrenheit, brewed to perfection!” The Mr. Handy robot spun around the counter, carefully holding the steaming mug out to her. She chuckled, “Why, thank you! Glad I actually have time to enjoy it today.” She carefully set it on the counter and prepared her blasphemous amounts of cream and sugar. Typically Codsworth would do that, but it was the one thing Annie insisted on doing herself. Mainly because he commented on the sheer amount of sugar and caffeine she poured into it each day. 

“I’m assuming sleepyhead is still asleep?” She wondered out loud to Codsworth. “Yes, mum! Sir Alec is peacefully sleeping his day away, though I did hear him mumble something about space monkeys at around 4 am.” 

Annie laughed. “He is a space monkey. But he did get off from his shift pretty late last night. I’m gonna check on him.” She grabbed her coffee and headed down the hall to his closed door. After gently knocking, she cracked it open just enough to poke her head in. 

His soft snoring drifted into the hallway. Army fatigues littered the floor next to his bed from when he was too exhausted to change last night. “Bless your heart, Al. They’re working you to death. What exactly are they expecting to-?” 

The doorbell echoed from the living room, causing Annie to jump and Alec’s snoring to pause for a brief moment, then resume quietly. 

Annie placed her coffee back on the counter. “I believe it’s that salesman again, Miss Annie. He can’t take ‘no’ for an answer, can he?” Codsworth explained from the window. “He’s just doing his job, Cods. Let’s see what’s up.” She tightened her bathrobe and adjusted her bun before opening the door. 

“Good morning! Vault-Tec calling!” A Vault-Tec Sales Rep approached her with an all-too-wide smile on his face. “Good morning!” She politely smiled back. 

“Isn’t it? Just look at that sky up there!” He paused to gesture also-too-widely, and cleared his throat when she nodded awkwardly. “*ahem*  You can't begin to know how happy I am to finally speak with you. I've been trying for days. It's a matter of utmost urgency, I assure you.” 

“Oh, well, then I’m sure glad you came!” She laughed nervously. 

“Yes ma’am, I am too. Now, I know you're a busy woman, so I won't take up much of your time. Time being a, um, precious commodity... I'm here today to tell you that because of your family's service to our country, you have been pre-selected for entrance into the local Vault. Vault 111.” This man bounced back and forth from being overly excited to clearly being afraid of something. Annie was beginning to be a little worried. “Oh, okay, uh, great! Where do we sign up?” 

“You’re actually already cleared for entry! Just need to verify some information, is all, you know, in case of uh.. total atomic annihilation.” He whispered the last part. 

Now Annie was worried. “Right, okay...” She took the clipboard and filled out the information, while tentatively watching him glance around nervously. “You don’t think that will actually happen, do you..?” 

He took the clipboard from her. “U-uh, well it’s always better to be prepared, right?” He glanced down at the papers. “Wonderful! I’ll just run these over to the vault, and congratulations on being prepared for the future-!” 

The door was closed suddenly as half-awake Alec leaned against it. “That guy again? Annie, don’t tell me you bought anything from him?” 

“No, of course not! He was just telling us that we’re cleared for entry into that vault on the hill, in case of ‘total atomic annihilation!’“ She mimicked the sales rep, and Alec chuckled. “Yep, thanks to yours truly.” He grinned and wandered off to get his coffee from Codsworth. 

“Well, I’m gonna go freshen up real quick.” Annie stretched and went to the bathroom for just that. 

A few moments passed, and she was just finishing tying her bandana up in her hair when she overheard Alec from the living room. “Wait, Cods, turn that up.” 

“What’s going on?” She asked as she entered the living room, finding Alec huddled by the TV. 

“Followed by... yes, followed by flashes. Blinding flashes. Sounds of explosions... We're... we're trying to get confirmation... But we seem to have lost contact with our affiliate stations... W-We do have coming in... That's um... confirmed reports. I repeat, confirmed reports of nuclear detonations in New York and Pennsylvania. My God.”

The TV went black. Silence roared as Annie and Alec exchanged fearful looks. 

Then all hell broke loose when the air raid sirens cried their woeful cry. 

---------------------------------

How much time had passed? 1 day? 1 week? 1 year? She didn’t know. But when Annie opened her frosted eyes, it felt like it had been ages. A horrible gag escaped her throat when her pod suddenly opened, causing her to fall to her hands and knees and retch on the floor. 

She took deep, heaving breaths and shivered. “That... was not a decontamination pod.” She muttered. The difficult part was standing up, as if she had forgot how to. But she was able to weakly get on her feet and stumble to her brother’s pod directly across from hers. Only, she wasn’t expecting to find it already open, and empty. 

“W-what? Alec!?” She cried out, and turned to look around. “Alec!!??” 

Then, ever so faintly she swore she imagined it, she heard it way off in the distance. “Anneka!!”  

They made a promise to each other when they were little. A promise to only say each other’s full names when something was really wrong. And she knew, not only from her full name, but from the plain fear in his voice that something was very, very wrong. 

“ALEXANDER!!” She screamed, and began staggering as fast as she could towards the exit. She only paused when the door wouldn’t open to cough some more, then promptly gained her footing and ran to find another way out. 

The only thing that made her pause again was the site of the roaches the size of small dogs. And the several vault-tec-adorned skeletons littering the vault. “How long has it been...?” When she found the 10mm pistol, she was glad Alec taught her to shoot when she was in high school. It made the rest of her escape easier for her. 

When she eventually found the Pip-Boy and made it to the elevator, it was coming down, when it should have been up this whole time. She called his name again, but when there was yet again no answer, she tentatively stepped onto the platform and let it raise her joltingly to the surface. 

A thousand thoughts were swimming through her mind, so when she adjusted to the sudden sunlight, she wasted no time in jumping off before the platform even fully stopped and frantically began calling his name. “Alexander!!! Alec!! Al-...Al...” 

And she took it all in. The world she once knew, decayed to almost nothing. All the green, gone. All the life, dissipated. She fell to her knees in shock. “A...Alec...” And the tears fell. The tears fell and the vocal cords were strained from agony. 

Moments passed before she finally lifted herself from the ground, dusting off her vault suit, still damp with frost. 

And a new fire burned in her. An inferno of determination to find her brother, and adapt to this new, terrifying world. 

“Don’t worry, Alec. I promise you..” She adjusted her glasses and looked at the sky. “I will find you if it’s the last thing I do.” 

------------------------

“And I did... didn’t I...?” She said quietly to herself. 

Annie had been walking around Sanctuary, reminiscing about her promise, and where it’s taken her. In the backyard of her dilapidated house, a small, white handmade cross sit still on a mound, covered in wildflowers. And an aging military picture of Alexander Sinclair was pinned safely in the middle. 

“I just wish I could’ve found you sooner. But, no sense dwelling on that, right? I’m happy for those last few moments I had with you.” She crouched in front of him and rubbed the picture endearingly. Tears trickled down as she smiled sorrowfully at him. “I miss you, Alec. Every day. But we’re making a peaceful Commonwealth here. You’d be happy.” 

“Annie? Time for the speech, doll.” Nick called from the house. 

“Oh, coming!” She wiped her face quickly. “Sorry, looks like I’m needed! I’ll be back soon. Love you.” She kissed her fingers and tapped them on the picture, then scurried back to the street where the crowd was waiting. 

A soap box sat patiently waiting for her underneath the strung lights along the street, and the banner from the tree that read “United Commonwealth 1st Anniversary!” Everyone was chatting amongst each other until Annie took her place on the box. 

“Everyone! Today we celebrate the 1 year anniversary of peace in the Commonwealth!” 

A roar of applause. 

She laughed. “I know our version of ‘peace’ may seem odd, but as tenuous as it is, we must celebrate every moment we have of it, which is why 1 year is cause for such a huge celebration!” Applause. “1 year ago today, I made an agreement with every faction, city, and settlement to compromise in all our endeavors. I met with each of the leaders, including the new mayor of Diamond City, Hancock of Goodneighbor, Preston of the Minutemen, Maxson of the Brotherhood, and yes, even the leader of the Institute, with whom we had the most... animosity. But they have agreed to stop the kidnapping, the experiments, and to leave the Commonwealth alone unless it’s to help us. By their terms, we also leave them alone, and help voluntarily with whatever they need should they need it. The Brotherhood has agreed to help, not control, with building up the Commonwealth defense. And the Minutemen are still setting up settlements, now with the help of the Brotherhood. I know there’s still some hatred amongst us, especially for the Institute. But we need to put that hatred aside if we’re ever going to thrive again. Continue to stand with me, with each other, and let’s continue making the Commonwealth a better place.” Hancock handed her a Nuka Cola. “TO THE UNITED COMMONWEALTH!” 

“TO THE UNITED COMMONWEALTH!” There was another roar of applause, and everyone happily cheered, danced, cried, and just celebrated. 

Hancock helped her down from the box and watched the crowd with her. “Good speech, sunshine. But part of me is kinda worried.” 

“About?” She asked as she took a swig of cola. 

“About this ‘tenuous peace’ you’ve worked so hard to achieve. I know you’ve got an optimistic way of lookin’ at things, but it probably ain’t gonna last. A year is lucky.”  

“I know. That’s why we need to celebrate while we can, before someone disagrees with someone else, and then it’s back to square one.” 

“Right. Then it’s the war all over again.” 

She chuckled sadly. “Well, if it ever comes to that, it’s like Alec always said...” She took a long drink from her cola and sighed. 

“’War never changes.’“

[siribear]

ham, the bouncer for the third rail, leads her down into what appears to be a subway platform turned bar. it’s a small bar, almost comfortable with its dark lighting and scattered tables. a woman in a red dress serenades the clientele, winking at ham - or alice, it’s hard to tell - from across the room.

‘in there, the VIP room,’ he says quietly to not disturb the song.

the VIP room, by contrast to the dim lighting of the bar, is bathed in red light. she kicks herself mentally, wondering what she’s let hancock get her into. three men occupy the room; two in green camouflage and heavy armor, armed with heavy weapons while the other wears a tattered leather duster and patched leather pants.

maccready would be the one in the duster, she imagines, but the other two? by the looks on everyone’s faces, this visit isn’t an all together enjoyable one. maccready catches her eye briefly, looking her up and down, before returning his attention to the other men.

‘why don’t you and your buddy take a hike, winlock.’

winlock chuckles, low. ‘you can’t run forever, maccready. only reason you aren’t dead yet is we don’t want a war with goodneighbor.’ he looks to his partner, then back. ‘but if you keep on taking jobs in the commonwealth, you’ll force our hand.’

‘yeah, yeah. whatever,’ maccready says with an exaggerated eye-roll. ‘if you don’t mind? i’ve got company.’

all eyes are on her, then. from maccready’s, shadowed by his cap, to winlock’s, framed by a simple tattoo, to winlock’s partner’s, hidden by a pair of sunglasses. great.

‘and what did i just tell you about taking jobs - ’

alice pushes past him, settles herself on the couch and cozies up to maccready, one arm thrown over the back of the couch behind him. she smiles prettily. ‘i’m just visiting an old friend.’

‘right. remember what i said, maccready.’

she doesn’t move away until the two are out of sight. when he stands, so does she. ‘if you’re here for a friend,’ he starts, and she has to roll her eyes, ‘or to preach about the atom, you’re talking to the wrong guy.’

‘considering hancock all but lead me to you, i’m pretty sure you’re the right guy.’

his eyes widen. ‘hancock? what’s he want?’

she pulls hancock’s bag of caps out of her pack. ‘it’s not what hancock wants. i need you to track someone.’

maccready looks like he has to physically restrain himself from taking the money. ‘track who?’

‘ever heard of kellogg?’

‘you want me to track him? there are cheaper ways if you’ve got a death wish, lady.’

alice takes a step forward. ‘i’m going to kill him. but i need help finding him, and hancock figured you’d be the one to ask.’

he closes his eyes and sighs. ‘two hundred and fifty caps. up front.’ she tosses him the money. ‘and what if i can’t find him?’

she removes another few handfuls of caps from her own purse, the money she made from selling her salvage earlier. ‘call it incentive. otherwise - guess you just made a few hundred caps easy, huh?’

he frowns. ‘you know there’s... very few mercenaries in the commonwealth, right? like - most just join the gunners, and anyone that can’t becomes a raider. not many people can do that kinda work by themselves.’

‘well,’ she says. ‘that says quite a lot about you, doesn’t it?’

‘you don’t get it. kellogg is fu-freaking ruthless.’

‘maccready. either you help me find him or i take my money back. i’m not asking you to kill him, just track him.’

‘all right, all right.’ he tucks the caps into his duster. ‘you can count on me, boss.’

she sighs with relief, tension draining from her shoulders. ‘thank you,’ she whispers. ‘thank you.’

-

maccready escorts her to the hotel rexford when she asks about a place to stay, and doesn’t even charge her caps for it. he laughs when she mentions it, and tells her he’ll keep in touch.

inside the hotel, she speaks to an elderly woman named clair who hands her a set of keys to a room on the top floor. the elevator is nothing but a collapsed pile of rubble, and so she begins her climb up the stairs. the stairs creak with each step, a miracle that the floor doesn’t give way. the faded red wallpaper peels away at the corners, dust and spiderwebs making their home in the crevices. by the time she reaches the third floor, she’s ready to fall into bed.

she walks the hall to her room at the end, when a door squeaks open to her left. just another patron heading out for the night, she thinks, until she hears a rasped gasp and a wheezing, ‘you.’

she freezes, turns, comes face to face with a ghoul dressed in a trench coat and matching hat. ‘i’m sorry, who - ’ but then she sees it, the vault-tec pin on his lapel. ‘did you... work for vault-tec?’

his black eyes narrow. ‘i am vault-tec. they wouldn’t let me into the vault.’

alice blinks. then remembers. following nate up the hill to the vault entrance, the group of people waiting outside - the man who had just finished registering their names on the list being threatened with a minigun. a quick, i’m sorry, before being rushed to the vault. alice pulls him back into his room and shuts the door.

‘oh my god. you?’

‘yeah,’ he says, looking at his hands. ‘me. how are you still... how do you still look - ’

she winces. ‘the vault was some kind of - experiment. we were cryogenically frozen. i just woke up a few weeks ago. did you know about any of this?’

‘no. twenty years working for the company, and i didn’t qualify. but i was supposed to win a pack of steak knives.’

‘i’m so sorry.’

‘claire ward, right?’ he asks, and she nods, slowly. ‘you’re the only one that i remember from - before. everyone else is...’

‘i know. hey, why don’t you head back up to sanctuary, instead of staying holed up here? we’re building the place back up.’

‘we? your husband - ’

‘the minutemen,’ shes says quickly. ‘it’s a long story. just tell preston that alice sent you. and i’ll be back to visit soon.’

he repeats the name, confused but accepting. 'you promise?’ he smiles, face lighting up immediately. ‘yeah, that sounds nice, actually.’

she holds out her hand awkwardly, unsure what else to say. he takes it. ‘then i’ll see you again soon.’

-

the night passes as quietly as she assumes it can, for goodneighbor. outside she can hear people talking, shouting, the occasional gunshot from down below. still, she allows it to lull her to sleep, only starting awake when someone slams a door shut on the floor below.

the next morning, she visits hancock and maccready before she leaves, anxiety making her ask more questions than necessary. both men reassure her that they’ll keep up their end of the deal; she even hands maccready more caps just to make sure the man from vault-tec makes it safely to sanctuary.

maccready carries a sniper rifle of his own, and she takes the moment before they part ways at the goodneighbor gate for a few pointers. by the time his short tutorial ends, she confidently snipes two ferals from the top of a hill of debris.

goodneighbor’s seal reads 6-o.

from a corner bookstore, she follows the freedom trail up to faneuil hall. the courtyard is near unrecognizable. metal cages and spikes covered in barbed wire litter the yard, spattered with blood. the smell hits her next. blood and rot, its source the bags of flesh strung up around the building like christmas lights, blood leaking from the mesh netting.

she has to crouch low to avoid a giant mutant dog. it sniffs the air but barely passes by her as she makes her way up to the seal. R-5 she notes before making her way around the building. there’s a steady beep, beep, beep on the other side and two super mutants stand guard. she peeks around the corner with her rifle and finds the source of the beeping: one of the super mutants is holding a live mini nuke. the red light blinks steadily in its palm.

if that thing catches her, she’s dead. no doubts about it this time.

she steps back, rubble shifting underfoot. one super mutant shouts ‘hey!’ but the beeping grows no closer. she presses herself flat against the wall, clenching her fists. if she goes back to the courtyard, she’ll just alert the dog and the rest of the super mutants. the fire escape is way too high for her to climb up to - so.

she takes a steadying breath, eases her rifle around the corner of the building, and takes a shot.

the explosion throws her backward, slamming her shoulder into the neighboring building. she gasps, in pain and surprise, and the world is muted aside from the high ringing in her ears. injecting a stimpak into her, she slowly leaves the alley, ignoring the crackling of her geiger counter.

the mournful wail of the mutant dog speeds her steps.

when another super mutant and a pair of dogs stands between her and another seal, she climbs into an abandoned house for cover. from her new vantage point off the street, she’s able to pick off the dogs with a few shots and their master in just a few more.

D-8.

old north church is close, just around the corner, and so is the last seal, bringing the password together. piecing the notes together, she shakes her head. definitely should have headed straight to the church.

inside, the church is wrecked, pews splintered and broken, upper level half collapsed onto the bottom floor. she sneezes suddenly at the dust, alerting a sleeping feral near her. she takes it out, as well as another feral that rises at the sound of her gunshots.

alice scans the room for more and finds her next clue. a white lantern stenciled on the edge of the partially collapsed upper floor.  follow freedom’s lantern.

okay, then.

down in the catacombs is another lantern stencil, as if she had any doubts about where she was going. she almost trips over a skeleton, then a dead feral, and finally turning on her pipboy light brings her face to face with a live feral. not live for long, and she’s proud of herself for not screaming.

a larger rotating dial sits upon the wall at the end of the catacombs. wires lead from the wall to the dial. the false wall. hands upon both sides of the dial, she begins spinning it, depressing the center when she stops upon each letter of the password.

railroad.

on the final letter, gears turn and click behind the wall, which slides backward and to the side. the catacombs opens further - into another pitch black room. hand on her pistol, lit up pipboy held aloft, she proceeds slowly further.

one step into the darkness and it is no longer - light floods the room as construction lights switch on. the familiar spin up of a minigun makes her freeze. she holds up her hands.

‘that’s far enough.’ a woman speaks to her, framed by light. ‘you’ve gone through a lot of trouble to arrange this meeting, but, first, you must answer my questions.

who are you?’

[fallout4reactsblog]

Awesome! Could you do a react for sole x the companions + dlc where they’ve been in a quiet relationship but after not seeing each other for a while they share a passionate/romantic kiss and then realise they’ve done so in front of lots of other people, how do the companions/people around them react 💜 sorry if this is long

Cait: She was used to being abandoned. Left behind. Ignored. It didn’t make it hurt any less when sole announced they were leaving her, but she didn’t make too much of a fuss about it. She’d been through worse. She’d live, somehow. Mostly, she went around picking fights with anyone she could manage, but when that didn’t work, she’d get Preston or Sturges to give her some physical job to do. She thought less when she was tired. It hurt less when she was tired.

Sole managed to surprise her by coming back.

She didn’t say anything at first. She let them approach her, let them say hello, and then she grabbed them and pinned them to a wall to kiss the until neither of them could really breathe but neither of them wanted to stop, either.

They were shocked into parting at the sound of a laser musket clattering to the pavement. Preston stuttered for a few seconds before he managed to compose himself. Cait buried her head into sole’s shoulder in pure embarrassment.

“I’m not sure why you decided to hide this,” he finally managed, “but I’m sure you had your reasons. I won’t tell anyone, but I think you might want to tell people before someone else finds out.”

“Thanks, Preston.” Sole was perfectly calm, thankfully. “We’re just waiting for the right time.”

Cait heard him pick up his rifle, then turned back to her grinning partner. “Don’t ever leave me again. I didn’t like it.”

Sole just laughed a little. “I didn’t like it much, either. So, I promise not to travel without you unless it’s absolutely unavoidable.”

She sighed. “I’ll take what I can get, I reckon.”

Curie: Curie wasn’t used to emotions in general, much less loneliness, so sole going away was practically a heart-crushing experience. She felt everything to the absolute maximum. She spent her days crafting stimpak after stimpak for when sole got back, hoping that they’d make it back to receive them. For hours, she worried while she worked. Sole could be injured, or captured, or, worse, dead. It was entertaining, if in a horrible way, to imagine all the ways things could have already gone wrong.

When she heard them coming over the bridge, she dropped the beaker she was holding and instantly ran to them. They dropped their bag, knowing what was coming, and she jumped up to wrap her legs around their waist. Taking their face in her hands, she began to absolutely pepper them with kisses. They were laughing, she was giggling a little, and ecstasy was the only emotion she could really feel.

“Well, ain’t that just somethin’ worth seeing. I haven’t seen anything cuter since, I don’t know, the last time I saw a kitten probably.”

Curie just giggled and looked over at Hancock, completely oblivious to her partner’s embarrassment. “Oh, Monsieur Hancock. You surprised me.”

“I can tell.” He took a drag on the cigarette in his hand. “I don’t think you were meanin’ to tell the world like this. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me. And Cait. And Piper. And whoever they tell, of course.”

“You know he’s serious, right?” sole asked as soon as Hancock was gone.

“But of course. I would not expect any less. It is just that I do not mind so much. I love you very much and I am very happy to see you again. The night is very cold when you are not with me.”

Sole just laughed and hugged her close. “I missed you, too.”

Danse: He was busy. He was always busy. Both of them were, these days, and Danse told himself that that was okay. He didn’t need to be by their side all the time. He was perfectly capable of getting along by himself until they got back to the Prydwen. He’d been doing it for years before he met them, and so a few measly weeks was going to be no problem at all.

He was displeased to find out that wasn’t the case anymore, to say the least. Often he found himself wandering the airship, looking for sole, before he remembered that they just weren’t there. Then, he’d go tune up his power armor again.

One night, he noticed a set of armor in the frame next to his. That was strange, because that was sole’s frame, and they weren’t due back to the Prydwen for another few days. Someone had stolen their spot. When he found that person, he was going to give them a piece of his-

“Good evening, Paladin.”

He spun around to find himself face-to-face with the person he’d been searching for. There was a smile and a smudge of grease on their face, and before he knew what he was doing he pulled them in for a kiss. He’d missed them so, so much, and the feeling of their hands on his chest and their lips on his settled his mind once again. Everything was alright.

“Of all the things I expected to see, this sure wasn’t it.”

They practically leaped apart at Ingram’s voice. She was smirking smugly. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep your little secret. Everyone’s had a crush that broke the fraternization rules at some point. Just be careful.”

He nodded, grateful. “We will.”

“It’s cute, though,” she said, almost as an afterthought.

“Maxson will know by morning,” he whispered to sole as she walked away.

“How?”

“I don’t know. But he will.”

Deacon: He knew that the Railroad had lots of tasks, and that meant that, sometimes, people who were usually partners couldn’t work together. Some tasks just didn’t require two people. He couldn’t work with sole all the time, not even if he wanted to.

Still, he missed them. It had been forever since they’d even seen each other, much less talked. He caught himself dreaming about them every once in a while, or putting himself to sleep with thoughts of them there beside him, holding his hand. That was a little embarrassing, wasn’t it? It had to be.

He stumbled into HQ late one night. One in the morning kind of late. All he really wanted to do was flop down and go to bed, but when he picked his way over to his bedroll he found it was already occupied.

“Hey,” sole whispered.

He smiled just a bit. “Hey.”

Carefully, they took his hand, and he sat down beside them. “I missed you.”

“I missed you, too.” He leaned his forehead against theirs. “Way too much.”

They laughed softly, then leaned forward to give him a quick peck. It couldn’t have lasted for more than a second.

It was a second too long.

“I knew it!” Glory shot upright in her bedroll. “Tom, you owe me twenty caps.”

“Really you two?” Both their heads snapped around to look at Tom. “You couldn’t have waited one more week?”

“What’s going on?” Sole was clearly confused.

“I needed you to wait just seven more days. Seven. It’s not that many.”

Deacon’s eyes widened in realization.

“You guys were betting on when we’d get together. Real mature. Dez did you allow this?”

Desdemona, somehow, kept her face entirely neutral.

“Carrington, as I recall, you owe me twenty-five.”

Gage: He wasn’t one to miss people. Nuh uh, no way. Missing people was reserved for people who had mushy, gross, romantic feelings for each other, and Gage wasn’t a mushy, gross, romantic feelings kind of guy. He liked sole, yeah. They were cool, and they’d made a pretty good Overboss so far. So what if they had business out in the Commonwealth? So what if they wanted him to stay behind and take care of things while they were gone? He didn’t care. Nope. No way.

That, of course, made his reaction to seeing them again all the more mysterious. They were walking into the Fizztop Grille just as he was walking out, and as soon as he caught sight of them, he grabbed their shoulders and pinned them to the wall. His lips found theirs, their hands found his waist, and he kissed them absolutely senseless, gently nipping on their lower lip to show them he had been displeased that they were gone so long.

“Oh, now that’s a show!” Was that Mason? It might have been, he couldn’t tell. “Get that, Gage!”

Gage wasn’t the type for embarrassment, either, so he couldn’t have given less of a fuck. He let sole breathe for a few seconds, watched their face turn red as they realized they had an audience, then went right back to what he was doing before. The shouts and comments faded into the background. It was just him and sole. Him and sole. That was all that mattered.

They were forced to part for air again. Sole smiled at him. “Did you miss me?”

He grinned back. “Not even a little.”

“Can we maybe go up to the Grille? Get a little privacy?”

“What, are you embarrassed?”

They seemed to take that as a challenge, and grabbed his shirt to pull him back in.

NIRA, of course, chose that moment to come by and start cussing the both of them out.

Hancock: Somewhere in his time travelling with sole, he’d forgotten how mind-numbingly boring his mayoral duties really were. Even his chems weren’t as exciting as roaming the wasteland with his favorite person by his side. He needed something to spice up his life. He wanted sole.

He didn’t have them, though, so he resigned himself to getting high and getting by. Thankfully, though, he was not high when they stepped through the doors to Goodneighbor. He made it down the stairs and out of the Old State House in record time, literally tackling sole to kiss them. His hand cushioned their head and their mouth cushioned his own, and all he knew was how good it was to see them, and that he did not want to make a habit of being apart.

“If you’re looking for a discount on wedding supplies, don’t think you’re getting that out of me.”

They both turned to see Daisy, arms folded, smirk on her face. “Though, I think KLEO might be willing to give you one.”

“Why would I need anything from KLEO’s place for my wedding?” Sole didn’t even attempt to get out from underneath Hancock. It seemed they were perfectly content right where they were.

“It’s not a party with at least one gun, and what’s a wedding but one big party?”

“I think parties are a little different these days There were definitely no guns at the kind of parties I went to.”

Daisy just laughed. “I think you went to the wrong kind of parties, then.”

“I guess I must have had the wrong kind of wedding.”

“Maybe Hancock will show you the right kind someday.”

Hancock had to step in. “Daisy, are you hitting on my sunshine for me?”

She just winked and turned away.

MacCready: He understood that sole had responsibilities. He knew that they were dangerous. In his opinion, that meant he should go with them instead of being left behind. But, apparently, they were not of the same opinion, so they went away and he stayed behind.

He moped around for a while, but finally decided that, to pass the time, he needed to do something. He didn’t know how long they’d be gone for, or where they were going, or anything really, so to stop himself from worrying he needed a way to pass the time.

He was lounging in the Third Rail when a strange figure came in. They were wearing a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over their eyes, as well as a bulky trench coat that hid practically their whole figure. He looked up at them suspiciously.

“Can I help you?”

“Yes. I’m looking for the most handsome man in the entire Commonwealth.”

He frowned. “I don’t think-”

“Never mind.” The figure tipped up their hat to reveal a grinning sole. “I already found him.”

MacCready practically threw himself out of the chair. His lips were on sole’s before his feet hit the ground, and he kissed them over and over and over, quick pecks on their lips and cheeks and lips again. They just laughed and let him.

“Well, there’s a song just waiting to be written.”

They both froze in place, slowly turning to look at Magnolia, who had just strolled in. She leaned against the doorway with a smirk. “Having fun, kids?”

They didn’t have an answer to that, and she seemed to know it. “Well, don’t let me stop you. Have fun. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

As soon as she was gone, MacCready buried his head in his hands and couldn’t look at sole for a full five minutes.

Nick: He hated to leave, but he had a job. They knew that. He had responsibilities, people looking to him to solve their problems. It took him away from sole, and he hated that, but that didn’t change the fact that it was necessary. Besides, while he was gone, he hoped it would give them some time to think about what they really wanted in life, then subsequently realize it wasn’t him and dump him the first chance they got.

Okay, he wasn’t really hoping for that, but he assumed it was the inevitable outcome. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop ever since they’d gotten together. Nothing good ever got to last for him.

Sole was in the agency when he walked in, discussing one of his many miscellaneous cases with Ellie at the desk. They looked up when the door opened, and when they realized who it was, their eyes lit up and they shouted, “Nick!” Before he knew it, they had literally vaulted the desk to get to him, and kiss him. He grabbed their shoulders to steady them, fingertips gently curling into their skin. He could feel their excitement in the way they kissed, all fireworks and firey passion.

“I knew it!”

Poor Nick literally jumped as Ellie began to initiate her happy dance in the middle of the agency.

Sole’s eyes went wide. “I forgot that we hadn’t told her, yet.”

“Honestly?” Nick stared at the scene in front of him. “So did I.”

“Don’t let me stop you!” Ellie snatched her coat. “Piper is going to love this. Have fun!”

“Ellie, no!”

She was already out the door, laughing.

Old Longfellow: Sole had been gone for a long time, he mused, staring out at the sea. Maybe they weren’t going to come back. Maybe they’d decided to leave Far Harbor for good. He couldn’t blame them for that, he supposed, but the thought that they’d abandon him hurt a little more than he would have liked. He took a drink to wash that down.

He heard the boat before he saw it, thanks to the fog. The spike of anxiety in his chest was unwelcome, and he realized he liked it better when they were gone. When they were gone, he could tell himself that everything was okay, that they still loved him and whatnot. When they were here, he’d have to face the inevitable reality that they just didn’t want to be with him anymore.

They pushed open the door to the bar, and he took a moment to appreciate how absolutely gorgeous they were before they found him, sitting in a corner. Smiling, they picked their way over to his chair.

“Hey, there.” They snagged his glass to steal a sip of his drink, then stooped to kiss him.

The whole bar took in a collective gasp. They didn’t seem to care, just rested a hand on his shoulder to steady themselves as they absolutely stole his breath away. It was brief, but welcome, and when they pulled away everyone was staring.

“What are you looking at?” He waved a hand, embarrassed. “Go back to whatever you were doing.” As they slowly turned away, he muttered,  “Damn gossips. Always looking for something new to talk about. Nobody can get a single second of privacy these days.”

They just laughed. “What have I missed?”

“The same old, same old. Nothing interesting.”

“Well, you can do nothing interesting with me for awhile, then.”

He smiled, just a little. “That’ll be nice.”

Piper: “Blue was supposed to be back two hours ago!” She paced the floor. “What’s taking so long?”

“Relax,” Nat said from her place on the couch, flipping through one of their magazines. “They probably just got hung up with some raiders. No biggie.”

Piper opened her mouth, ready to lay out all the ways that could go wrong, when there were three knocks on the door and she practically tripped over herself trying to answer it. The poor door was practically ripped open to reveal sole, standing there with a bouquet of fever blossoms wrapped in what looked to be last week’s paper.

Piper wasn’t paying too much attention to that, though. She was busy lunging for sole to drag them over for a kiss. One hand wrapped around her to pull her closer, and Piper savored the taste of bubblegum on their lips. They were back and they were okay and they were-

“Gross!” Nat made a gagging noise, and Piper leaped away from her partner.

“Heh,” she chuckled, flushing. “I mean, good to see you, Blue. Let me see if I can find a vase for those flowers, okay?”

She turned into the rest of the house to hide her very red face, and heard Nat strike up a conversation with sole.

“You’re late.”

“I stopped to pick the flowers.”

“For two hours?”

They shrugged. “Fighting off raiders is hard when you’re trying to protect a bouquet as well as yourself.”

“You fought raiders?” Nat sat forward, listening intently. “Was it cool? Tell me!”

Sole just laughed. “Okay, kiddo. Just so long as you promise not to get any ideas. I think your sister would kill me.”

“No, she wouldn’t. She’s too in love with you.”

Piper jumped, then whipped around to shout, “Nat!”

All sole did was laugh.

Preston: He told himself that he was used to being alone. The closest thing he’d had to a friend until sole came along was Sturges. So, sole being gone would be fine. It wouldn’t bother him in the slightest.

He was good at lying to himself. That, and throwing himself into work to escape the loneliness that came from eating dinner without them for the twelfth day in a row. He told himself it didn’t bother him. He took all that emotion and packed it nicely away.

Maybe that was why he reacted the way he did when he heard their voice coming over the Sanctuary bridge, singing some song off of Diamond City Radio. Why he dropped his laser musket and literally ran for them. Why he didn’t think twice about interrupting the conversation they were just starting to have with Sturges.

His lips met theirs and suddenly, the world was right again. Their hands found the lapels of his coat, pulling him a little closer. He let his fall to their waist and made sure to kiss them senseless, letting them know exactly how much he’d missed them.

Sturges let out a low whistle. “Well, you sure pulled the wool over our eyes with this one.”

Preston pulled away, feeling his cheeks beginning to heat with embarrassment. “I- I think- I need to go check on the crops.”

He grabbed sole’s hand and tugged them toward the fields. They just laughed and shouted at Sturges that they’d talk to him later, and Sturges asserted that was okay before turning to the rest of Sanctuary.

“Hey, y’all! You’ll never guess what I just found out.”

Preston had never wished he could turn invisible before that moment.

X6-88: For weeks, it had been the same routine. The instant he got back from a mission, he’d get stuck on another one. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d spent more than three hours at the Institute. He was getting irritated, and he was getting stressed. He just wanted some rest, dammit. He just wanted to see sole.

He started working harder, trying to get back faster so he might have a chance to see them. He was efficient. They put him on more missions. It was a vicious cycle.

He was beginning to resign himself to not seeing them for possibly months when he popped back into the Institute to find, lo and behold, none other than sole standing before him. They were holding a huge stack of folders, but the papers hit the ground as soon as they saw him.

In unison, they stepped forward, arms open, lips finding the others. He let himself relax, let them kiss away the stress and the pain and the anger that had been building. He’d missed them.

They heard the sound of ceramic shattering on the glass floor. They turned, and Doctor Li was staring at them, coffee splattered over her white lab coat.

“Di-” she stuttered. “Director!”

Sole shot her a cool glare, one generally reserved for people who’d said something irritating during a meeting. “Is there a problem, Doctor?”

She said nothing, opting to scamper away instead. Sole turned back to the courser in front of them.

“Shall we take this back to my office?”

“I need to report back.”

Sole just smiled. “I’m the Director. I think, for me, they’ll make an exception.”

He couldn’t argue with that.

[fancy-lad-oneshots]

What if Sole and the companions found out (in an au) that there was no Duncan and Maccready made the whole thing up cause he was getting a bunch of caps for the cure.

Oof, right in the feels.

Was it true? There Sole sat in the backroom of Goodneighbor, where the two had met, pondering for hours after being told MacCready never had a son. They even went as far as to send their companion out to look for him.  Of course it couldn’t be true… They tapped the arm rest of the couch, Mac would never make something like that up… Would he? I mean, he is a mercenary… Sole was drawn out from their thoughts as their companion walked into the room, followed by MacCready. The gunner’s jaw was clenched, like a child knowing they were caught doing something they weren’t supposed to. 

“Mac, I’m not making any accusations but…” Sole began, leaning forward in their seat. “I was told… that the cure was never for your son, that it was just a big pay out.” Their voice shook with uncertainty as they met the mans eyes. He hesitated, sensing that they already knew the truth. 

The gunman tilted his head, hiding his gaze from them. “It was a job, nothing more. So I fudged a few details, no big deal.”

It was, however, a very big deal. Sole felt their heart sink down to the pit of their stomach, he couldn’t even face them and tell them the truth. After all they’d been through, after all Sole put on the line for what they believed was a terrified father, after every piece of honest comfort they offered, the whole time it was just a lie… and Sole was the butt of the joke. The room felt as if it were spinning as they struggled to take a breathe. They felt infuriated and embarrassed, feeling the hot tears swell in the corner of their eyes as they looked down.

“Get out…” The words left their mouth in a whisper. 

“Sole look-“ His hands outstretched. 

“Get out!!”

Cait: “Yer lookin’ to get that hand broken, aren’t ya?” 

All it took was one step for Cait to get in between the two, glaring down the man before he even get another word out. 

“Oh, and you’re one to talk?” He spat.

“More than you. I may be up for thievin’ and such, but lyin’ about a child isn’t on my to-do list.” Her arms crossed, giving him the you-better-fucking-leave look.

“Sole, you seriously-“

“Don’t worry about them, they’re none of your concern. I will be though if ya don’t get outta here within’ the next 30 seconds.” 

The man took one look at her and scoffed, “Fine,” turning towards the door with a raised hand. “Didn’t wanna run with you anymore anyway.” 

Once gone, Cait turned to her friend and knelt down, taking their hand in hers. “Look, I can’t say it’ll be alright, but I can tell you that you don’t have to worry about him anymore…” She wasn’t the best at comfort, but her eyes made all the promises she couldn’t make herself. 

Curie: She watched in remorse seeing Sole so distraught. This man had given them a sense of comfort and now… Well to Sole, it was all a lie. 

“Monsieur, I recommend you leave the premises immediately.” Curie straightened her shoulders the best she could, standing up for her dear Sole. “Your presence here is no longer welcome.”  

MacCready looked at Sole, who refused to make eye contact, then back to Curie. “Oh great, now you’re taking the side of a synth over me.” His voice was laced with spite. 

“Better than a liar!” It was Curie’s turn to get upset. How dare he insult Sole’s judgement, when he was the one to be judged. “If you do not leave, I will use force.” 

“Don’t strain yourself…” MacCready looked at Sole, “I guess I won’t be seeing you around.” and walked out, leaving Sole to be comforted in the arms of her companion. 

Danse: “They said get out, civilian.” In a moment the man was cutting off MacCready’s access to Sole. “I don’t think you want them to repeat themselves.” His eyes darkened with anger, feeling the blood rise to his face. 

“Gonna sick your attack dog on me now?” The mercenary didn’t back down, glaring right back at Danse. 

For a moment, his anger got the best of him and he reached out for MacCready’s collar in a white rage. The irritated scoff he let out only infuriated Danse more, causing him to tighten his grip. 

“You will leave the Commonwealth. If I, or any other members of the Brotherhood of Steel see you again then you will be shot on sight.” His voice held more restraint then he led on to have. “Do I make myself clear?”

“Jeez, a little harsh for someone just trying to make a living.”

“Do I make myself clear?” Danse repeated, bringing the mercenary’s face closer. At this point, the man was barely on the ground. 

MacCready spat back. “Yeah, you’ve made yourself pretty damn clear.” 

Danse let go, shoving him a few feet away. As MacCready went to say something else, the Paladin shot him a look that caused the man to shut his mouth and leave the room. Once gone, Danse exited his power armor and looked over at his friend. Sole sat there in silence with their head in their hands, it was obvious they were doing their best not to cry. All Danse could do was sit next to them and offer a comforting presence. His anger was nearly gone, replaced now with complete worry for Sole’s well-being. He placed a hand on their shoulder and stayed like that for what seemed like hours, occasionally stroking his thumb in hopes it was enough, that he was enough.  

Deacon: “Shit, I lie a lot but that… That’s way outta line. You just don’t do that.” Deaon crossed his arms and gave the other man a scowl. 

Sole was upset, Deacon saw that immediately and he didn’t like it one bit. Even more so he didn’t like how MacCready inched forward, trying to explain himself. 

“Hey man, you should just get outta here.” 

“Yeah, not likely.” MacCready scoffed. 

“I said,” Deacon began, placing a firm grip on the ex-gunner’s shoulder. “you should leave.” His nonchalant tone took on a more serious note, eyeing Maccready up from behind his patrol glasses.

Maccready’s shoulders squared up in response. “What gives man, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“You hurt my friend and to me, that is a big deal. Now,” He added. “I’ll tell you one more time to get lost.”  

With one last look at Sole, Maccready decided to walk away from the situation. “Fine.” Without another word, the mercenary walked out of the room. 

“I’m sorry Sole, you know I’m not… I’m not lying like that to you.” Deacon sat beside them, offering his shoulder to cry on. Sole was a trooper, they would get through it, but he hated the way it made him feel to think someone could hurt them like this. 

Hancock: Within seconds Hancock had his hands on the other man. “Look MacCready, I like you, so I’m not gonna kill ya right away…” He pulled at the sniper’s collar, voice calm with an anger only noticeable through his sickening smile. “But if I so much as get a whiff of you around Goodneighbor again, I won’t be so generous.” 

“Hey calm down, I was only-“

“I don’t need your excuses. You lied, and I don’t like liars.” Now, smile gone, he pulled out his knife. “So I really suggest you leave. Now.” 

MacCready put his hands up in defeat, knowing when he’s outmatched. If he had learned anything about Goodneighbor, it was to not push the buttons of the mayor. Once released from his grip, MacCready took one look at Sole and left the room in silence. Hancock’s face softened as he turned to Sole, kneeling in front of them and taking their hand in his. 

“Look sunshine, if you want me to kill him just say the word.” The ghoul tried to get a look at their face, his shoulders sagging when he saw just how broken they looked. “Hey now, that’s not fair, you’re still a looker even with that sad face.”  

His attempt to make them smile worked, but just barely. Who cares, that’s all he needed as he pulled them into a hug. Next time, he thought, he would kill the son of a bitch. 

Piper: “Yeah get out MacCready! Ya sleaze ball!” Piper got up in his face, fuming from learning he lied the whole time.  

“Pfft, like you don’t leech off this crap all the time. Don’t act all high and mighty.” He scoffed, crossing his arms. 

The reporter stood between him and Sole, knowing how upset they were. “Look, what you did was just… wrong. I don’t care how many caps were in it for you, you took advantage of Sole.” 

“Advantage? Come on Sole, you don’t-“ 

“Get out!” This time, Piper shoved him. Before MacCready could react, Ham walked in with his pistol in hand. 

“Do we have an issue here?” He growled, obviously annoyed he has to do his job as bouncer. 

Piper crossed her arms and glared at MacCready. “Yes, please escort this man out.” 

After being pulled out by force, Piper sat next to Sole and pulled them into a hug. “It’s ok Blue, next time we see him I’ll kick his ass, alright?” This earn a half hearted laugh from her friend. 

Preston: A calm hand was placed on MacCready’s shoulder, stopping him before he could make an argument. 

“I think you should leave.” Preston’s voice was placid, but his eyes betrayed him. They were full of rage for the agony the mercenary caused his dear friend. 

“Look minuteman, I don’t need your advice.” MacCready brushed the hand off of his shoulder, looking towards Sole.

Without missing a beat, Preston’s hand returned to his shoulder, much tighter this time. The minuteman’s chest felt tight as he did his best to restrain himself, but damn was it hard. Sole was such a selfless person, how could anyone lie to them about something so dire? He would never understand people’s disloyalty, but he wouldn’t let that affect his judgement. 

“The general doesn’t need someone like you making their life harder than it already is, so just leave. Before I make you.” Preston wasn’t one for threatening, but this was his friend on the line. He made a quick glance, which MacCready saw, at his laser rifle, making the mercenary back up.

“Fine fine… Sole, I guess this is goodbye.”

“And good riddance.” The man couldn’t hide his disgust as he knelt beside his friend, offering a comforting hand.  

Nick: “Now that’s just all kinds of wrong.” Nick lit a cigarette, his yellow eyes sending a glare towards the man. 

Maccready rolled his eyes. “You’re one to talk, synth.”  

“I never lied about what I was, or my motivations.” His gravely voice lowered as he neared MacCready. “I didn’t need to. What’s your excuse?” 

“They were looking for their kid so I figured… A little common ground would go a long way.” The sniper reasoned.

“That “long way” of yours got you your own personal spot in hell.“ He exhaled a puff of smoke. “I hope you have the decency to leave on your own because if not, I’ll make sure you make it down there.” 

Now, Nick was even more angry. Sole would have helped regardless, they were selfless like that, and this man took advantage of their good nature. The detective took one step to stand in front of Sole, leveling his eyes with MacCready’s.

“Leave. Now. I won’t repeat myself, understand?” Nick threatened.

Maccready tugged his hat down, avoiding the eyes that followed his moves. “Fine, didn’t want this bad company anyway.” 

After he walked out, Nick sat beside Sole and offered a handkerchief to them. “You ok, kid?” He inquired. They didn’t need to answer, he knew they weren’t ok. Putting out his cigarette, he patted their back for a while, hoping the pain wouldn’t last long for their sake. 

X6-88: “Ma’am/sir, would you like me to dispose of him?”

The synth, already pulling out a gun, glared quietly from behind his glasses. His voice led on one of disinterest but that was farther than the truth. He was placed in charge of protecting Sole, that also meant emotionally, and this man had hurt them.  

“Listen pal,” MacCready pointed a finger at X6-88’s chest. “You don’t know-argh!”  

Within two seconds X6-88 had him on his knees, the finger that was pointed at him clenched in the synths hand with a sharp crunching sound. 

“I highly suggest not doing that again.” His tone, now one of irritation, tightened with every word. “You mean nothing to me. The only reason you’re still breathing is because I was not given the order to execute you.” 

MacCready’s jaw clenched in pain, grunting as he tried to pull his hand back. 

“Ma’am/sir?” X6-88 inquired towards Sole, who was looking at MacCready with an expression indistinguishable. 

“… Just let him go.” Was all they said. 

The courser hesitated, due to his desire to end the man, but followed his order. “As you wish.” 

The ex-gunner got up and spat at Sole, “Keep him on a shorter leash next time.” 

As he went to leave, X6-88 shot him a look that most likely could kill a man. He put his hands behind his back, watching the doorway where MacCready left. Sole didn’t say anything after that, but the synth swore to himself that if he ever saw the mercenary again he wouldn’t hesitate to take him out. Sole was kind person, a rare trait to have in the commonwealth and the courser wouldn’t stand for anyone taking advantage of them and getting away with it. Especially not his Sole. 

[zirawrites]

How would the companions react to Sole getting stuck in a tree?

Cait: She was impressed her friend could climb that high, but embarrassed they couldn’t get down. As Sole called for her to help, Cait shook her head and dismissed them with the wave of her hand. “Sorry, darln’. I can’t do that for ya. I think some raiders stumbln’ upon you is the wake up call ya need to stop overextendin’ yerself.” Cait meant it, too. She actually walked away.

Codsworth: “Oh mum/sir! Please don’t move and I’ll fetch help at once!” The poor Mister Handy didn’t waste a second. Codsworth traveled to the nearest settlement and begged the survivors to help his poor master. He didn’t care if Sole felt embarrassed. Their safety was Codsworth’s main priority.

Curie: “I find it very interesting that you would do something so foolish knowing the risks.” Curie didn’t mean this to be insulting. She had watched as Sole climbed the tree to scout for raiders. Sole ensured her that it would save time on their mission, but Curie continued to inform them of the dangerous outcomes that could befall her friend. They could fall out of the tree and break a leg. The tree could snap. They could… get stuck. Sole had scoffed, because that would obviously never happen. “Is this irony?” Curie asked. That comment may have actually been sarcastic.

Danse: Danse was never, ever taking Sole out on another mission with other soldiers. They had always been capable when it was the two of them. Either Sole had been trying to show off their agility, or they had really lost it. The brothers snickered as Danse attempted to shake the tree for Sole to fall. Sole responded by holding on tighter and yelling for him to calm down and catch them. “I rather you break your legs, soldier!” Danse seethed. “This is humiliating. Now get down!”

Deacon: Sole figured that if they camped out in a tree before they were supposed to rendezvous for a dead-drop they could catch Deacon’s latest disguise. The last three missions, Deacon had dressed up as someone else and teased Sole in some way. He was a farmer who tried to chase them off his ranch. He was a lounge singer that threw a drink in their face when they hit on him. He was a bartender that watered down their drinks and only revealed himself moments before they almost started a fist fight.

“Deacon!” Sole yelled as he passed under the tree. Ironically, he wasn’t dressed up this time. “You have to get me down.” Sole explained what happened, and how they couldn’t believe Deacon had actually meant his apology and would stop his disguises. He did help them down, but inwardly refused to admit he just hadn’t changed in to his costume yet.

Dogmeat: Dogmeat was utterly useless as Sole asked him to go find help. To him, his master was just playing a game. Every time Sole yelled for Dogmeat to go back to Sanctuary, he wagged his tail. When Sole raised their voice, he barked happily back. He was a good boy.

Hancock: Honestly, Hancock couldn’t judge Sole for having a bad first trip. He knew his special cocktail of chems would wind the two of them in trouble. Hancock woke up on the floor of the Third Rail draped in nothing but curtains. None of the employees seemed to care because this definitely wasn’t the first time it happened. But poor Sole woke up with a wicked migraine stuck up in a tree almost a mile from Goodneighbor.

“Aw, I’m sorry, sunshine,” Hancock said as he stared up at poor Sole. They lazily rested their head on a branch. “I’m sure your head is killn’ ya. I’ll get someone to help you down.” He then promised to keep Sole’s chem intake under control the next time they partied the night away.

MacCready: Oh God, he could not stop laughing. Sole tried to prove that they could beat him in a sniping contest. The glass Nuka Cola bottles had been laid out. Sole had the perfect vantage point. They hadn’t beat MacCready from the ground, but he was impressed with how close they caught up. 

After a little gloating, Sole realized they couldn’t get down. “Oh come on,” MacCready whined. “Don’t be so dramatic.” But when it was apparent that Sole was really stuck, he fell to the floor crying. “Oh, boss!” he howled. “Oh, oh my God. I’m... I’m... soooooo telling everyone back at Sanctuary!”

Preston: Being such an empath, Preston was suffering from some serious secondhand embarrassment. He had followed Sole’s flare gun assuming they were in trouble. But this was not what he had in mind.

When Preston just stared up at Sole - mouth agape - they threw their general hat at him. Preston flinched, and then crossed his arms. “I’m not the one who got you stuck up there,” he hissed. “I’ll get you down, but you have to promise to stop throwing things at me.” Preston still had a small scar on his arm from an incident that involved a rouge Miss Nanny and a frying pan. Long story.

Piper: Piper stuck her fist up in Sole’s direction like she was holding a tape recorder. It was one of her favorite scenes in any pre-war detective movie. “Blue, could you please tell the press how you got yourself stuck in a tree?” Sole pursed their lips, but it only fueled Piper on. “Would you say this has anything to do with being caught stealing noodles from Takahashi on a dare from Deacon? Is this where you decided to hide? Would you like to make a statement?” Sole turned their face away and told Piper she couldn’t prove anything.

Nick: “Y’know, if I were blessed with beautiful smooth skin, I wouldn’t risk it doing something as stupid as climbing a tree. What if you fell and broke your back, Sole? Use your head.” Nick sounded annoyed, but he actually found their predicament hilarious. Someone had come in to his station to report Sole missing. He managed to follow their trail to the outskirts of Diamond City. “I won’t even ask how this happened,” Nick assured. “I just need you to come back to the station to put some minds at ease.”

Strong: The supermutant didn’t hesitate to immediately take Sole down from the tree. He didn’t even question them about it. Strong assumed it was a strange human thing. A week later, Sole found him in a tree as well. Strong told them he didn’t understand why Sole had done that, but he felt very tall.

X6-88: “I don’t think we should tell Father about this, sir/ma’am,” X6 advised. Sole looked down at him from her spot in the tree and was glad they were both on the same page. X6 seemed a little disappointed, but then again he always sounded sad. Sole tried to imagine what it would be like to find their hero in a tree, and it bummed them out as well.

[quinzelade]

By No Constraint  (chpt 64)

SS x Danse

Chapter List

Thanks to my amazing beta, waiting4morning, for her wonderful work! Thanks to Musashi1596 for the title.

I apologise this is so late. I’ve been having a rough time personally, and then the attack on London happened yesterday and I really just did not feel in the mood for messing around with fanfic tbh.

Hope everyone is safe, and that this at least lifts someone’s mood.

Major Brotherhood/Danse spoilers.

Want update alerts? Follow this story on FFnet or Ao3.

--

Berkeley Square

 --

“Nuka-Cola?”

Hancock peered suspiciously at Quinn over his cigarette, his eyes slightly unfocused. “Are you high?”

Quinn gestured to the empty jet inhalers at Hancock’s feet and snorted. “That’s rich, coming from you.”

“Since when have you picked Nuka-Cola over alcohol?” he retorted.

“Maybe I don’t have any.”

“You always have booze.”

“Maybe I don’t have any,” she repeated, settling down in the chair next to him. The sun was just reaching its peak in the midday sky—the perfect time to relax in the shade of the porch with a drink and a friend. Quinn held out the Nuka-Cola to him, and after a roll of his eyes, Hancock took it.

“Tin can’s made you all boring,” he muttered, opening the bottle with his teeth, while Quinn opened hers on the edge of her chair seat.

“Or stopped me from being an alcoholic.”

“Like I said—boring.” Hancock sipped his drink.

Quinn frowned and lowered her bottle, staring at him. “Do you really consider that to be ‘not boring?’”

Hancock gave a little shrug. “Everyone has their vices. People who don’t clearly haven’t got enough fun in their lives.”

“I’d think I’d rather do without them,” Quinn replied, thinking about her last drunken escapade with a shiver. “They’ve caused me nothing but trouble.” Her eyes returned to the jet canisters on the floor. How much had he gone through this time? “Honestly, Hancock, I’m starting to worry about your ‘vices’ a little. The amount you take is more than recreational chem use.”

Hancock suddenly looked evasive. “Maybe I just know how to have a good time. Besides, ghouls need twice as much for the chems to have any effect.”

“But—”

“You obviously didn’t come here to lecture me. What’s up?”

Quinn took his meaning. Drop it. She sighed but respected his wishes. “I just wanted to thank you for helping me get my friends back. I don’t know what you said to make them come along, but it worked wonders. I never thought I’d be able to speak to Nick again, and MacCready was clearly pissed over Charlie...and yet here they both are.”

Hancock brightened up at this, and leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Ah, no worries. Old Valentine didn’t take much persuading, to be honest. I think once he’d had time to cool off, he was always gonna come around. As for MacCready…” Hancock’s grin turned menacing. “I have my ways.”

Quinn narrowed her eyes. She didn’t like the idea of Hancock threatening MacCready, for more than one reason. “You bullied him into being nice to my son?”

Hancock paused, still wearing his dangerous grin, and then burst out laughing. “Nah, I’m just fuckin’ with ya. I reminded him about Duncan. I figured since you got rid of the Institute for us, the least I could do is smooth things over with the gang.”

Quinn could have hugged him. Instead, a smile spread over her face, and she knew he understood. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The two of them sat in silence, drinking their cola. Hancock shielded his eyes from the sun, muttering under his breath about it, until he eventually glanced over at Quinn.

“Where’s lover boy?”

Quinn paused, just as she was about to drain the rest of her drink. “You know, I’ve no idea.”

“Not keeping tabs on him, huh?” Hancock cackled, throwing back his head and catching the last of his cola on his tongue.

Quinn smiled to herself. No, she wasn’t. She trusted him to stay safe. And if that didn’t speak volumes about their progress together, she didn’t know what would.

Eventually it was time to get back to work. Quinn assisted with the razorgrain crops while Hancock staggered off to help with guard duty. Part of her wondered if he was fit to guard anything in his state, but she remembered he’d been running and defending Goodneighbor for years, high as a kite. She had to give him some credit.

However, as she was carrying a bushel of razorgrain across the settlement for Mama Murphy to work her magic on—though Quinn had to have a lengthy talk with her first as to why mentats did not enhance the flavour of her bread—Sturges popped his head out from his house.

“General,” he said, looking shifty. “A moment of your time, if you please?”

Quinn nodded to him and then offloaded the razorgrain into Rose Crowcroft’s arms, a Minuteman who had chosen to stay behind and help with the settlement. “Take them to Mama Murphy for me, please? And please remind her: no mentats.”

Rose gave a wonky salute as she tried not to drop all the razorgrain. “General.”

Sturges waited for Quinn until she was at his door, and then disappeared inside. She hesitated, wondering what the hell was going on, and followed him into the house.

Quinn blinked.

Laid out in the centre of the room was a small, circular table. Its surface had been sanded and polished to a high shine, unlike anything that was left in the wasteland. Two chairs of a similar quality were seated around the table, and in the centre, a candle stub in a misted glass. By the looks of things, Sturges had repaired the furniture himself.

“For Preston,” Sturges said quickly, as if worried she would take the set-up the wrong way. “He sent ahead a message to say he’d be back tonight. Thought I’d fix up some dinner for us.”

“A date?”

“Well,” Sturges said, and for the first time she saw the traces of embarrassment in his face. “Things were progressing a little while he was in Sanctuary, but then he had to go oversee some new recruits at the Castle.”

Quinn felt a twinge of guilt at this. She had promised to take on the role of ‘General’ when she’d first met Preston, but somehow ended up with the Brotherhood instead. Maybe it was time for that to change.

“Thing is, you’re friends with him too. So you have a decent idea what he likes. Thoughts?”

Quinn laughed. It was all very cute. “Yeah, I think he’ll like it. You’ve clearly put some effort into this, and that’s what Preston’s all about, right? Hard, honest work.”

Sturges grinned. “Why thank you, ma’am.”

The smile slipped from his face, though, as a familiar voice called from outside.

“Sturges?”

“Dang.” Sturges eyes widened in horror. “Preston.”

“I’ll distract him,” Quinn said quickly, running to the door. “Get cooking!”

She heard some form of garbled gratitude behind her, but paid it no mind as she shot out of the house and ran smack into Preston. The two of them went flying backwards, landing in a heap on the ground. Quinn groaned and looked up to see Preston’s hat rolling away down the street, before remembering to get off her friend.

“General,” Preston said, accepting her hand and allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. “Didn’t expect to see you again so soon.”

He dusted himself off as they walked over to his wayward hat, which hadn’t rolled too far. He picked it up, put it back on, and then dragged her into a bone-breaking hug.

“I can hardly believe it,” he said into her ear, squeezing her tight. “The Institute is gone. I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Quinn laughed, and they broke apart. “I’m hearing that a lot.”

He grinned. “Maybe now the Commonwealth can finally come together and build something good for the future.”

“I had an idea about that, actually.” Quinn folded her arms, mulling over her racing thoughts. Plans had been brewing in her head all morning, but they’d still not formed into something solid. “Can’t put it into words right now, but give me some time and I’ll try and lay it out for you. Either way, I’m going to be taking a more active role in the Minutemen from now on, if you’ll still have me.”

Preston blinked and then grinned with delight at her. “Of course, General! I mean, I’d always hoped, but I thought you’d gone to the Brotherhood, and…”

“I’m done with them,” she replied firmly.

“Then I’d be honoured to defer to your leadership, ma’am.” He saluted. “Though it’s not gonna be all sunshine and rainbows from here on out. The Institute’s gone, but there are plenty of problems left to deal with.”

“Don’t I know it.” Quinn stretched her arms, and then quickly spoke as she heard Sturges clattering around in the house behind her. “I think for me, the attitude towards synths and ghouls has to change. Ignorance is the reason they’re stigmatised—especially synths. With the Institute out of the way, I think we could make real progress in breaking down the barriers.”

“I know you have a personal stake in that,” Preston said, “but maybe securing people’s settlements first would be a solid foundation to build on.”

“Oh yeah, that too. But if ghouls and synths help secure those settlements, that would go a long way to changing people’s attitudes, as well as giving them places to live where they’re accepted by the residents.”

Preston raised an eyebrow. “Would this have anything to do with the master plan you’re concocting?”

“Maybe.” Quinn grinned. She changed the subject. No point delving into the concept when it wasn’t ready. “Why are you back so soon? Sturges said you weren’t due until tonight.”

“Well, I decided to escort a local doctor to his next port of call after he helped me out at the Castle,” Preston replied. “Fixed up one of the new recruits.” He paused, looking around. “Now you mention him, though, where’s Sturges? Why were you in his house?”

As he looked past Quinn to frown at Sturges’ house, she heard a quiet, high pitched noise of dismay behind her. Trying to bite back a laugh, Quinn waved her hand in front of Preston’s face, pulling his attention back to her.

“A doctor?” she asked innocently. “Did he follow you here, or did you part ways?”

“Oh, he followed me here!” Preston replied. “Come on, I’ll introduce you to him. His name is Doc Weathers.”

Quinn frowned. That name sounded familiar, but she couldn’t remember why. It made her uncomfortable. Putting her uneasiness aside, she nodded. “Lead on.”

--

Danse sat back down in front of the computer and held his breath. Repairing terminals were not his forte, but with the manual he’d dug up at one of the stores in Goodneighbor, he’d been able to give it his best shot. He hit the ‘on’ button and waited.

The screen flickered to life, filling the room with a pleasant green glow, and Danse grinned. He pulled the holotape he’d acquired from the safe yesterday out of his pocket and inserted it into the tape port. It crackled to life after a few seconds, and Danse listened carefully.

Sounds right, he thought, remembering the tune Quinn had sang to him almost a year ago. The words were familiar, at least.

Danse stood up and held out his arms. He waited for a good beat, and then shuffled around on the spot, feeling stupider by the second. What he needed was a teacher, but he’d be damned if he was going to let anyone see him in such a ridiculous state. That was why he’d retreated to the privacy of the Red Rocket truck stop without telling a soul where he was going. Just imagine if��

“Knock knock, tin can.”

Danse cursed as he spun around, hitting his leg on the terminal desk. He glanced up and saw both the ghoul and the detective standing at the inner doorway to the building. Valentine looked mildly amused. Hancock held the expression of a jet addict that had just found a large stash of chems.

In the background, the song ended and a new one came on. Apparently Quinn had made a mixtape, not just a recording of one song.

“What the hell are you up to?” Hancock said, squeezing past Valentine, unable to keep the giggle out of his voice.

“Nothing,” Danse replied with a scowl, sitting himself down on the desk and folding his arms.

Valentine dragged on his cigarette as he stepped into the room, glancing around with a small smile on his face. Unlike Hancock’s barely contained delight, the detective’s expression was kinder.

“Trying to impress a dame?” he asked casually, while Hancock started to snicker.

Danse scowled harder, staring at the floor as his face burned. When the two of them didn’t take the hint, he sighed and closed his eyes. “After everything that’s happened, Quinn needs a break. One night to herself.” He told them about the song and his plans.

“Quinn mentioned that she hadn’t seen you much today.” Hancock’s smirk widened as Danse’s eyes snapped open again with panic. “Oh, don’t worry about it. She’s not concerned and she doesn’t suspect anything. But I asked old Nick here if he’d seen you, and he led the way. I don’t think either of us expected find this, though.”

“I certainly didn’t,” Nick added, his tone lacking the teasing quality of Hancock’s. “But I think it’s a good idea. Need any help?”

“No.” Danse returned to staring at the floor.

“Tin can,” Hancock chipped in slyly, “your dancing leaves a lot to be desired. Sure you don’t need any help? Nick’s a classy guy, and I know my way around the ladies....”

Oh my God.

“I’m not trying to achieve that,” Danse groaned, covering his face with his hand. Yes, he and Quinn had been suggestive with each other recently, but he just wanted to do something nice for her. How things went after that was anyone’s guess.

“Ignore him,” Nick said, and as Danse glanced up he caught the detective rolling his eyes at Hancock. “The good mayor here is about as sophisticated as a softshell mirelurk.”

“Hey—!”

“But I do know how to dance,” Nick went on, ignoring Hancock’s protests. “Or at least I can teach from afar. You’re gonna need a dance partner, bud.”

Danse opened his mouth to say no again, when he stopped. What did he honestly know about dancing? While the last thing he wanted was outside interference, this was for Quinn, not for him. And it was about time he swallowed his damn pride.

“...Fine.” Danse folded his arms, deep in thought. “Who’s going to be my dance partner, though?” Piper was away in Diamond City, Mama Murphy was...not an option, and Rose Crowcroft looked about as elegant as him.

Hancock stepped forward, grinning.

Both Nick and Danse turned to look at him, then at each other, before diverting their attention back to Hancock.

“No,” said Danse loudly.

“Yes,” said Nick with an approving nod.

“No.”

“I ain’t seeing an alternative, tin can,” Hancock said, barely able to contain his glee. He swept off his hat and gave an elaborate bow. “Milady.”

“Never say that to me again.”

“Besides, you’ll be the girl,” Nick added, starting to grin himself.

“I can work with that.” Hancock jammed his hat back on and curtsied. “Shall we dance, tin can?”

Danse put his head in his hands. “Give me strength.” He snapped his gaze up towards Hancock and glared. “The last thing I want to think of while trying to have a private evening with Quinn is you.”

Hancock blinked, before his expression turned ugly. “I honestly thought you were past the whole ghoul thing, asshole.”

“No, it’s just…” Danse looked to Nick for help, who held up his hands and took a step away from the argument. Danse met Hancock’s eye, feeling more embarrassed with every passing second. “If you were trying to—uh—woo a lady—or whatever the hell you call it—the last thing you’d want is to accidentally think of me because we ran a dress rehearsal before the event.”

Danse realised the words sounded much stupider out loud than in his head.

“Well, there are worse looking faces I could think of, but I see your point.” Hancock spluttered with laughter as Danse’s mouth fell open. “I’m kidding!”

Nick lit a cigarette. “Are you two done? Time’s a-wasting and I don’t think we’re gonna find many willing volunteers for this on such short notice.”

Danse glanced from the still snickering Hancock to the terminal and sighed deeply.

“Fine.” He got to his feet, revulsion crawling through him. “Let’s get this over with.”

There was one other thing that was bothering him, but he didn’t want to upset Hancock by voicing it. The very thought of touching a ghoul still made him feel physically sick. He imagined rotting flesh slipping off under his fingers, the stench of decay tainting his hands for weeks, or even months.

Cold. Slimy. Dead.

He hesitated when Hancock held his hand out to Danse. There was an awkward pause, Danse unable to keep the look of disgust off his face as he looked at Hancock’s wrinkled, damaged skin. He glanced up to see Hancock staring at him expectantly, the ghoul’s mouth twisted with exasperated patience.

Danse drew in a shaky breath and took Hancock’s hand.

To his greatest surprise, Hancock’s skin was dry and leathery to the touch, like old brahmin hide. Perfectly normal. Almost the same as a human labourer’s hands.

“There,” Hancock said with a bright grin as Danse felt himself relax. “Not so bad, huh?”

“No,” Danse admitted, an apologetic smile flickering across his face.

“Course, now I’m going to make things uncomfortable.” Hancock winked and took hold of Danse’s other hand, dragging it to his waist as he stepped closer.

“Hancock,” Nick said in a warning voice.

“Oh come on! He’s not gonna hold her at arm’s length!”

Danse didn’t listen as they began to bicker. He’d expected Hancock to reek the same way feral ghouls did, but there was no smell that was out of the ordinary for any other wastelander.

I’ve been a bigot my entire life, Danse thought, the mortification intensifying as he remembered how he’d treated Hancock in the past. But before he could dwell on the subject, Hancock whipped around to face him.

“Right, tin can!” he said, drowning out whatever Nick was trying to say. “Listen to old Valentine and learn how to sweep me off my feet!” Hancock fluttered his eyes and then blinked as Danse started to snigger himself.

“This is surreal,” Danse said, shaking his head in disbelief. He turned to an equally surprised Nick. “Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ll drink to that,” Nick muttered.

The following lesson was chaos. Between Hancock getting the giggles and his frequent chem breaks, Danse kept messing things up by tripping over his own feet. He’d never been a particularly coordinated person, but this was pushing him to his limits. Not falling over required all of his concentration, to the point where Hancock burst out laughing every time he looked at Danse.

However, after several hours of toe-tapping torture, Danse memorised enough of the steps to get a basic grasp of things. Even Nick, who had taken off his hat and coat and loosened his tie as time wore on, looked pleased.

“I think you’ve got it, kid,” he said, smiling wearily.

“I’m feeling pretty damn swept off my feet,” Hancock said as he and Danse shuffled around the room. When the song ended, they broke apart, Hancock dropping onto the bed with a sigh while Danse sat on the nearby desk. He wasn’t as convinced as the other two, but it was an improvement, at least.

“So, who’s babysitting Charlie while you’re with Quinn?” Nick asked, opening up his pack of cigarettes and frowning when he saw it was empty.

“I’ll do it,” Hancock said, pulling a fresh pack of cigarettes out and tossing it to Nick.

“No, you won’t,” Danse said instantly, glaring. He was grateful for Hancock’s help, but the man was a junkie. “Not with the chems you take.” Danse turned to Nick. “Would you mind…?”

Nick dropped the cigarette he’d been about to light. “Me? I mean, yeah, but…” He smiled. “Thanks for trusting me, kid.”

--

Sanctuary was beginning to wind down for the evening as Quinn walked down the street. She made her way past Doc Weathers and frowned in his direction as he packed away his things and wandered off towards one of the spare bunks.

She didn’t trust the man. She couldn’t say why, but he set her on edge. From his sleazy attitude to his glittering eyes, there was just something not right about him.

Where have I heard his name before?

If she could remember that, she’d probably have her answers about his character. At the very least she was certain he wasn’t affiliated with the Brotherhood.

Quinn decided to let it go for now and instead turned her attention to the sky with a frown. It was slowly losing its steel-blue hue to pastel washes of purple, pink, and gold as the sun departed from the skyline. Worry began to prick at her insides. Where the hell was Danse?

Not that she had concerns for his state of mind these days—if anything, he seemed to be doing better than she was. But if the Brotherhood travelled North West from Diamond City...if they stumbled across Danse…

She should have left Charlie in the care of Danse and gone back to see Maxson herself. Let him know she was fine and there was no need to look for her. Still, it hadn’t been too long. Danse had mentioned before that it had taken ages before anyone was allowed to track down Cutler. And what with the end of the war, likely no one of importance had noticed her absence.

In the distance, she saw a small, skinny figure walking over the bridge towards Sanctuary, carrying a bulky package. Quinn tensed, jogging to the barricades and ducking out of sight. A few seconds later, she stood up again when she realised it was MacCready. As he drew closer, he stopped dead, a blush creeping up his cheeks, clinging tightly to the package. Quinn made her way over to him, noting he wasn’t quite meeting her eye. She thought she’d won him over yesterday, after she’d had to practically drag him and Charlie apart so that Charlie could go to bed. Clearly that wasn’t the case.

“Everything okay?” she asked, already feeling defensive on her son’s behalf. If he gave her any more shit about synths…

MacCready did no such thing. Instead, he looked at her, sighed, and opened the top of the bundle in his arms. She was met with a bright jumble of comic books in varying conditions. Some seemed brand new, their colours glowing in the dull backdrop of the wasteland. Others were torn or heavily worn, their pages yellowed and drained with age. Quinn knew Charlie would love them all.

“I...thought Charlie might like some more stuff to read,” MacCready mumbled, dropping his gaze to the floor again. “I know I would’ve at his age.”

“Wanna grab a Nuka-Cola together?” Quinn said.

MacCready glanced up at her, surprised. When she waved for him to follow her, he did so, meekly. Completely unlike him, but she suspected he didn’t know what to make of her ready acceptance.

They sat on the sofa in her house, the large comic collection set carefully on the coffee table, still covered by the fabric MacCready had bundled it in. Charlie flitted around in the background, eagerly trying to catch MacCready’s attention until Quinn told Codsworth to take Charlie for a long walk with Dogmeat.

MacCready took his cola with a murmured thanks, picking at the label on the bottle instead of drinking it.

“What’s changed, Mac?” Quinn said, swigging from her own drink. “First you’re storming out of Hancock’s place after all but calling me a bad mother—”

MacCready visibly winced, but didn’t interrupt.

“—then you begrudgingly help me escort my son back here, but only after making a point of telling me you’re not doing it for any pleasant sort of reason. Now you’re bringing back comic books for Charlie.” She leaned forward, unsmiling. “What the fuck?”

MacCready didn’t answer at first, stripping away the peeling label completely and scrunching it up in his hand before he spoke. “I...don’t trust synths.”

Quinn snorted with mirthless laughter. “Yeah, that’s fucking obvious. Hancock said he had to remind you about Duncan before you would play nice. And don’t think I haven’t noticed how you are with Valentine.” Her eyes narrowed. “Or forgotten what you said when you realised Danse was a synth.”

MacCready closed his eyes, going red again. He opened them as he said, “I know. I know how I come across. I know how I am with Valentine. And I know how I was with Danse. But I don’t think you realise how everyday people see synths.”

“I have a pretty good idea.”

“No, you don’t.” He looked up at her, frowning. “You know how the Brotherhood treat them—cold, merciless disgust. Not fear, just disgust. And you know that for the most part, Diamond City accept Nick Valentine, although they’re suspicious of the rest.” MacCready’s expression softened. “People like me—we’re just plain scared of them.”

“Scared?” Quinn was confused. MacCready was no coward and could handle himself just fine in the wasteland.

“Yeah, scared.” He shrugged. “It’s not easy to admit it, but it’s true. When I think of synths, I think of people being kidnapped and murdered, and then being replaced by those...things. And then later the replacement killing the entire family and running off. It’s happened...or people say it’s happened. I always tried to be so careful. If I was taken, if I died, who would get the cure for Duncan? And then after the cure, I thought, ‘What if I’m replaced and they find my son?’ Maybe they’d kill him too.”

Quinn remembered the paranoia that was rife in Goodneighbor and Diamond City. People turning on their neighbours or even their own family because they thought someone had been replaced by a synth. People gunned down in the street...

MacCready continued. “Danse is different, because he ran away from them, didn’t he? He got free. But Valentine just looks so...inhuman. And Charlie?” He shook his head. “A replica of Shaun? It seemed too weird. I didn’t trust him. I thought maybe you’d taken him with you for the wrong reasons, or he was some sort of spy with a plan to hurt you for destroying out the Institute.”

“Charlie isn’t—”

“I know he’s not. Now I do, anyway. If anything, he makes me think of Duncan.”

Quinn was surprised. “Oh?”

“He’s not out to carry on the Institute’s cra—um—plans. He just cares about comic books and the other stuff kids like. Wherever he came from...he’s a child.” MacCready squirmed, mortified. “He’s your son, and from what he’s told me, a victim of the Institute, too. So…” He pointed to the comic books with an apologetic expression. “I can’t promise I’m ever gonna trust synths. But I trust you.”

He reminded Quinn of Danse, and the way he had warmed to Sarah - the ghoul from The Slog - after spending some time with her. Quinn and MacCready looked at each other, before he made another vague gesture towards the comics. “I’ll leave these with you, anyway.”

“Nuh uh,” said Quinn, smirking. “You’re the nerd. You can give them to Charlie yourself. You’ll be his new favourite person.”

MacCready laughed just as Charlie walked back in with Dogmeat and Codsworth. Dogmeat bounded across the room, jumping all over MacCready. When Charlie realised what the bundle on the coffee table contained, he threw himself onto MacCready as well.

Quinn left them to it. Although she was glad that things with MacCready were sorted, night had now fallen and there was still no sign of Danse. She bit her lip as she walked down the street, her heart hammering in her chest.

Just as the panic began to set in, Quinn saw him heading back up towards the house. She ran to him, throwing her arms around his neck as he turned to look at her.

“Hey,” he said, squeezing her as kissed her cheek.

“Where have you been all day?” Quinn asked when they broke apart. “I was starting to worry.”

“Your friends are going to look after Charlie for a bit,” Danse replied, blatantly avoiding the question. “I’ve something to show you first.”

Quinn noted the blush in his cheeks, and saw Hancock and Nick strolling past behind them. Nick tried to be inconspicuous, but Hancock grinned, winking as he gave her a thumbs up.

She glanced back to Danse and saw him rolling his eyes at Hancock, before smiling nervously. “Come on.”

Quinn followed him through Sanctuary, past the barricades, and over the bridge into the open wasteland. They walked in silence, keeping their senses sharp for any hidden dangers lurking in the darkness. Despite this, Quinn couldn’t help wonder what he was up to. She knew they had half joked about ‘date night,’ but Danse was an extremely private person. He wouldn’t have allowed Nick and Hancock to be involved just so he could spend the night with her.

Her confusion grew as they reached the Red Rocket truck stop. They went inside, but Danse stopped her at the inner door to the main workshop. He handed her his rifle, mumbling that he had to ‘do something’ first, and then disappeared out of sight, the door sliding shut behind him.

A minute passed, and when the door opened again, Quinn heard the most wonderful sound.

“That certain night, the night we met,

There was magic abroad in the air,

There were angels dining at the Ritz,

And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.”

--

Danse felt sick as he led her inside. At Hancock’s recommendation, he’d dotted candles around the room, the rest of the light being provided by the green glow of the terminal. Then he’d tidied and cleaned up as best he could, leaving a suitable space in the centre of the room.

Quinn looked stunned. She set his rifle down on the nearby cabinet, staring at him.

“When we first left the Prydwen to build the teleporter in Sanctuary, you mentioned that you always wanted to dance to this song, but you never got the chance.” Danse shrugged, the nerves biting hard in his chest. This was the moment: either she would love it, or he was about to upset her. “I’m not Nate, and I’m not trying to replace him, but—”

He didn’t finish the sentence. Quinn flung her arms around his neck and dragged him into a long kiss.

“Thank you,” she said, before kissing him again. “Thank you.”

“Good idea then?” Danse replied, feeling somewhat faint with relief.

Quinn nodded. “Restart it and we can dance to the whole thing.”

Danse obeyed, and the second the song returned to the beginning, Quinn grabbed him by the arm and whirled him around. She dragged him to the centre of the room and took both of his hands.

“Shall we?”

Danse nodded, his mouth dry as he ran Nick’s instructions over in his head. He could do this. He could do this.

He frowned as they danced, trying to keep each step perfect, each move in sync with the music. After a few seconds, though, Quinn laughed and stopped. She reached up and touched his face.

“You’re overthinking it,” she said, placing a gentle kiss on his nose. “Dancing really stiff and awkward.”

Oh God. I’m ruining this for her.

“S-sorry,” Danse stammered. “I’ll start it again. I’ll do better. I—”

Quinn silenced him with a kiss. “Stop overthinking it,” she repeated, grinning now. “I don’t want perfection. I want to enjoy this moment with you. How about a slow dance instead?”

“A slow dance?”

Quinn moved his arms so that they enveloped her, and she leaned her head against his chest. Then she began to sway and shuffle gently on the spot. Danse mimicked her, and suddenly they were dancing. He didn’t know how, since it was less structured and formal than what Nick had taught him, and yet it worked.

Danse felt the tension leave him, and he just focused on the music and the woman in his arms. For the first time since he’d met her, she looked truly at peace with everything, almost melting in his embrace. The way Danse felt about her was indescribable. He’d planned to tell her exactly what she meant to him, but now that the moment was here, every word he could think of was woefully inadequate.

The next song came on, but neither of them stopped. Danse could happily do this all night.

“I don’t even remember telling you about A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square,” Quinn mumbled. “But you listened to what I had to say, even back then. You cared. And you put all this effort in...just for me.”

“Honestly,” Danse said, “this wouldn’t have been possible without Hancock and Nick.”

Quinn looked up and stared at him, wearing a surprised expression and a small smile. Had he said the wrong thing? Was he supposed to take full credit for it? The nerves were beginning to take hold, and he licked his lips before speaking.

“What are you thinking?” he asked stupidly.

“I’m just thinking how much I love you,” Quinn replied.

Danse’s foot snagged on thin air. In an instant the world whirled around him as he went crashing to the floor, Quinn shrieking as he dragged her with him. He fought desperately to breathe while she lay splayed on top of him, the wind knocked from his body, and drew in deep, heaving breaths when it passed.

“Are you okay?” Quinn gasped, trying to help him up, her eyes wide with worry. “Did you land on anything? Did you—?”

“Y-you love me?” Danse stammered. He couldn’t have heard that right. She obviously hadn’t said that. But...he needed to check.

Quinn blinked. “Yes, of course I love you.” She went pink. “Um, I’m sorry. I—”

“I love you, too,” Danse blurted out.

This was not how he’d intended it to go. He’d imagined softly spoken words and a tender kiss of passion—not lying on the floor, wheezing, having been hit with blunt force trauma to the chest by his own girlfriend.

This was almost as bad as declaring his feelings to her inside a bomb factory.

Quinn started to laugh. For a split second, a rush of embarrassment drowned him, and he wanted nothing more than to sink into the ground and disappear. But then she crawled into his lap and pressed her lips to his.

“I love you,” she said between each kiss. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“Sorry, didn’t catch that,” he replied weakly.

She giggled, but the sound was swallowed as their mouths met. When they broke apart there was a pause, and then Danse sat up, letting her straddle him as he pulled her close. The kisses grew more frantic, their hands eagerly exploring each other. Things were quickly tumbling out of control again, but this time with no one to disturb them. He kissed her lips, her cheeks, her collarbone...only when she began to nip at his neck, moving her hips so that she grinded against him, did his nerves finally leave him.

Danse fumbled with the catch on her bra, but the accursed contraption stayed firmly fastened, taunting him until the anxiety threatened to come back. Maybe Quinn sensed his frustration, or maybe she was as worked up as he was. Either way, she leaned away from him, taking the damn thing off without even bothering to remove her top.

“How…?” Danse began, but the question was forgotten as she returned to him, her fingers tugging impatiently at his belt. He didn’t need prompting. His own hands pulled Quinn’s shirt over her head. Danse threw the garment aside without a second thought, kissing every new inch of her he could reach, unsure where he wanted to start.

Quinn made the decision for him, finally wrestling the belt buckle free and slipping her hand into his pants.

Danse’s breath caught in his throat, and he leaned against her, momentarily thrown off guard as she moved her palm slowly up and down. Then she stopped, allowing the sweet haze to clear just enough so she could catch his eye. Quinn was smirking.

“Bed?”

Danse grinned. “Bed.”

--

A/N: Throwback to chapter 7. This is one of the scenes I’ve had in my head the longest, so I’m glad to finally use it. :)

As I have said at some point, though, I am very uncomfortable with writing smut. And I'm not very good at it. So there will not be anything explicit in this fic. Thankfully there are maaaany smut fics out there, so I'm sure you can scratch that itch quite easily. 0D

I'm so excited for the next few chapters. Now I'm past the end of the game, I have free rein.

FLUUUUUUFF.

[sillyandquiteawkward]

Pickman/M!Soul

ok first of all thank you so much for writing this????? oh my goodness?? i love it so much;;; i went ahead and cut it for length, but omg i keep reading it and putting my hands all over my face aaaaa >w< hope its ok to post!

Soul scratched his matted hair with the butt of the pistol. Hard to remember the last time he had a shower, or eaten anything but molerat meat. Looking at the positive side of navigating a corpse-filled house of madness, he no longer had much of an appetite. He turned and came eye to eye with an upside-down, dead raider slumped over a table Though he did feel much dirtier than before. Once he got the caps Good Neighbor’s ghoulish mayor promised, he could get some of this blood out of his hair. The mayor made him nervous but the caps would be good. If he wanted this creepy gallery scouted Soul would be more than happy to oblige, for a good payday.

    That would be about when the mine went off. It shook the entire house and Soul stumbled, catching himself on the door frame. That had come from far underground. Images of feral-filled subway stations poured through his skull. Soul knotted the together the trench coat ties. I ain’t paying for a look-see. Of course, nothing could ever be easy. The door took him into the sewer. He jumped from one ledge to the next.

    “Hey did you hear something?” A voice echoed around the stone chamber.

   “Come on out~” another answered in a sing-song taunt. Soul slunk back into the shadows. The first one came around the bend. Raiders, He fired twice into her head.

    “Shit! is it Pickman?” The male yelled.

    Soul moved from the shadow to the cover of a vertical pipe. Bullets pinged off the walls, ricocheting around the tight corridors, he had to finish off this idiot before he managed to put a hole in him by pure chance. He pulled the shotgun off his back and shot around the corridor, shoot, cock the second chamber, fire. The man hit the water-soaked dirt dead.

    Soul climbed back up the pipes and made his way ever downward as quietly as he could. A metallic whirring sound indicated a turret around the next corridor. He took it out with a grenade but got two in the right shoulder for not seeing the guard with a shotgun. He ran towards the man struggling to reload and bashed him over the head with a discarded pipe. Blood on his hands, shit he couldn’t get off with hot water and soap. Most days he just wanted to wake up. None of his nightmares had been this bad with Norra beside him.

    He nearly tripped the first mine before he noticed the slight red glow. He moved more carefully after that.

   “You thought you could hunt and torture our people to your heart’s content? I’m going to enjoy killing you.” The sound of gunfire is what did it. He had a hard time picking out the good guys from the bad ones these days but one man with his hands up and three raiders with guns? He made a judgment call. The first raider went down from a head shot. The man in the middle sprinted towards one of his would-be executioners and wrenched the rifle from his hands. Turned to fire at the other but Soul put a bullet into him as well. The dirty gray suit showed three bloody bullet holes. Soul slid down the short dirt ramp into the well-lit cavern.

   “You ok pal?” He asked the bloodied man clutching at his chest.

    “Oh yes, just fine now. That was close, thank you.” His voice flowed with unsettling calm. Soul didn’t like the way the stranger’s eyes ran over his gear.

    “What did they want with you? Didn’t look like disgruntled house guests.”

   “A small disagreement. They objected to my hobby of collecting their heads. Those people deserve worse than death.”

   “So your Pickman then.”

   “In the flesh. Here let me repay you.” Pickman took two large steps towards Soul who backpedaled hard into the crumbling wall, gun in hand.

   “What did you have in mind?” He asked, leveling a pistol.

   “A gift nothing more.” He looked almost offended. His hand felt rough with dirt as he closed it around Soul’s prying one hand off the pistol. “Here” He pressed something small and metal into his palm and closed it again. “If you ever return to my home look deep into my painting a Picnic for Stanley there you will find my gratitude.” He split a grin like snake-oil, shouldered his pilfered rifle and jogged off down the corridor.

  Soul grit his teeth and opened his hand, a key. Perhaps he should have just shot the guy. He looked around at the raider bodies. More blood, everywhere more blood.  

  He spent two days in GoodNeighbor living off the mayor’s generosity. When the caps ran low he felt tempted to go back and claim his “reward” but the blood still soaked into his dreams and so he stayed, drank at the third rail and found new work. Word was Bobby-no-nose was hiring whoever she could get her hands on.

…

   Three note for new employees: Working for Bobby-no-nose is 1) never a good idea. 2) No longer an option because she is now very, very dead. 3) Fahrenheit owns a large flamethrower and uses it when angered. Despite learning these three lessons Soul found himself richer than before. If this would be the payout every time, maybe he should kill his employers more often. The mayor seemed happy with him. Not such a bad guy once you got past the stabbing. They cruched mentats and philosophed at each other till dawn. Soul swigging brandy he hadn’t tasted since the war.

   “It’s just-” Hancock stretched his hands towards the ceiling. “I’ve got to get out and play the world again. Can’t let all this get to my head.”

   Soul nodded despite not understanding him through a layer of cotton in his head. “You should. Then. If you want to.”

   “We should team up.” The mayor rolled over and popped another orange tab into his mouth. “I got this feeling about you. Think I could tag along for a little bit?”

   Soul waved his arm about his head. “Of course, of couse-” He fell asleep slumped over an overstuffed chair in the mayor’s office.

   The words of a speech roused him. He opened his eyes to bright noon light.

   “Of the People! For the People!” Hancock’s voice sounded like bricks on his skull. Soul looked up and caught Fahrenheit’s angry glare. What did you do? She mouthed.

   “Of the People! For the People!” The citizens below reverberated.

   “Hey, Fahrenheit, our friend up yet?”

   “nearly.” She dragged him off the chair.

   “You ready to hit the road?”

   Soul cast a befuddled glance from one to the other. “Sure-” He stumbled. “Ya, ok. Hitting the road.”

   Their path meandered right past the gallery. Hancock looked the place over as Soul propped open the door. “Isn’t this the Pickman place I had you scout out?”

   “Stashed some loot here.”

   “Don’t tell me you sold me a line so you could hide your shit.”

    Soul pushed open the door a bit further showing the blood-stained gallery.

     “Shit.” Hancock said, walking in behind Soul. He looked at the bodies piled around the staircase, and towards the ceiling, anywhere but at the cracked skulls and bloody paintings.

   Picknick for Stanly. The first painting title read. Soul studied it, pushed one finger behind the frame and pried the thing off the wall. A safe behind it took the key and swung open, some caps, a knife, and a note.

Thank’s again, Killer.

Soul stuffed it all into the bag and trucked out.

“Bet this place reeks,” Hancock commented as they left.

“Ya, more ways than one.”

Raiders ambush them half a mile north. Hancocks good with his pistol, Soul notes. Still, doesn’t account for all seven of the fuckers. It takes a second to put together. There are three bodies that neither of them put down. Soul picks through the bodies.

Sweet of you to stop by Killer. Don’t be a stranger.

Soul’s neck breaks out in a cold sweat. Hancock looks him over.

“Find anything?”

“Nothing interesting.” He pockets it and continues on. They find three more groups of raiders, dead before they could reach them.

“This is getting spooky. Not that I’m complaining.” Hancock comments kicking over one of the dead ones. There’s a knife sticking out of its torso with yet another note.

This marks the end of my territory. Be safe out there ♡

“What the hell?” He points at the corpse and then back at Soul. “Do you have a Psychotic Guardian angel I should know about?”

“Let’s just get out of here.” They trudged into the wasteland towards Sanctuary.

The pattern becomes predictable. Go to Good Neighbor, get a few notes on a few dead raiders. He’s heading back from a supply run. Preston wants turrets and they need oil and Daisy sold plenty. There’s a bloody note on the wall right outside Good Neighbor’s famous friendly neon sign.

Over my head Killer, need help. Boston library.

Soul stared at it for a moment, reached up and smeared the fresh blood message into illegibility. Daisy agreed to hold onto the oil shipment for hi. She also gave him directions to the library, even promising a discount if he cleared the place out.

“I’ll do my best.” He thanked the only other person who remembered anything about the right way the world should work.

…

Pickman slid next to him, gun in hand and a slick smile plastered over his mouth.

“So you do come when I call. Truly I am flattered.”

Soul shrugged clubbing the mutant hound into mutant paste with the butt of his shotgun. “You’ve done me enough favors.” They ran up the stairs trying to get to higher ground.

“Still warms my cockles to have you on my side Killer.”

“Don’t call me that.”

Pickman tossed a Molotov over his shoulder, landing in amidst the horde of super mutants  “I meant it only as the highest of praise, no offense intended.”

“Just don’t.”

Together they fought past waves of the green monsters. “Why did you even ask me here?” Soul asked. Pickman shook his head and smiled but gave no answer.

A protectron whirred to life in the next room and Soul pressed a shotgun to the glass.

“No don’t!” Pickman pushed the gun away from the robot, wasting Soul’s ammo on the ceiling. They ducked and rolled. The robot’s clunky movements didn’t make it less terrifying up close. Pickman ran towards the computer and began typing, fingers flying over the keyboard.

“Come on, must be here somewhere. Ah, I believe this is the one.”

Soul paused in his dodging. The protection stiffened and walked towards it’s capsule.

“You want to reprogram them.” Soul watched the robot march obediently back into its case.

“It will take longer than we have at the moment, but yes you’ve come to the basic idea. I knew you would be smarter than the average now-a-days.” He split a smile that Soul found himself believing.  

“You think I am disingenuous? I assure you, this will only help the commonwealth. Raiders tend to shoot first. We simply program them to respond to violence and set them down wherever they are needed.”

“Now-a-days?”

“Ah, yes. I do my research. The vault dweller, talk of the town. None other than my own Kill-” He cleared his throat. “Well, I suppose you have me at a disadvantage.”

“Soul.”

“Wonderful, my friends call me Richard. Or my family does. My family did, call me Richard.”

His smooth voice sounded strange stumbling for words. “All right then.” Soul interrupted. “It sounds like a good plan. Fewer raiders and no one gets cut up alive. Let’s find the rest of these terminals.”

…

In the basement Soul finds the book drop. He deposits Daisy’s overdue book and the machine clanks, spitting out tokens.

“What do you have there?” Pickman asks, looking over the other man’s shoulder. Soul is suddenly very glad he left his hair down. Pickman’s breath touches his cheek when he speaks.

“Read it for yourself. Says we can exchange them for prizes.”

Pickman, taps the flickering terminal screen. “I have always wanted a camera. Painting from life can be so difficult, when the models won’t sit still.”

If Pickman noticed the shiver that passed over Soul he made no mention of it. He does pull away and began pacing around the library basement. They “Cleaned up” as Pickman called it. Picking off the remaining few on their way back up the library stairs. On the outside steps Soul turned to his companion. The man’s appearance hadn’t change much through all the gun-waving and frantic running. His hair still slicked back, his dusty suit still straitened and buttoned just-so.

Pickman stared intently, focused on something just out of Soul’s line of vision.

“What is-”

“Shush” Pickman made a palm-down motion to quite him, then ducked himself. His head flicked from side to side searching for something. He found it, and pulled Soul to ground, forcing him down through a broken drainage grate. They waited.  The BOS team rolls through not two minutes later. Three sets of armored feet, so close Soul could stick his hand out of cover and grab one. He sees scribes aswell, even hears the heavy thudding of a Vettabird in the air. They stop a few feet away. One of the scribes radios in and Soul hears a familiar Paladin’s voice over the staticky speakers.

“That’s Danse.” He whispers to Pickman, who yanks him back down before he can crawl out the the drainage ditch.

“The brotherhood doesn’t much approve of my art-form. Just wait for them to pass and there won’t be a incident.”

Soul nods back. It takes another hour. Soul thinks he understands how one man manages what Pickman dose. The man’s patience is something to behold. He never fidgets or yawns, just stares out into the commonwealth dusk till the BOS team is far out of earshot.  

…

The trip back to Good Neighbor is uneventful. Soul pulls ahead once he sees the Neon glow, eager to get to a safe bed for the night. He turns back at the door, waiting for Pickman. All he sees is an empty street.

“What the hell,” he grumbles. “Bad manners to leave without a goodbye.” He says a bit louder.

“I suppose that is true.” The suave voice answers. Pickman hits the ground and grunts, the fires escape creaking behind him. “It was rude of me to leave you at the door.” He’s closer now. “I had a lovely time Soul.” His pale skin looks blue in the artificial glow. Soul swallows and nods back. “You aren’t coming inside are you?”

“It’s one of my rules. I already broke one for you today.” Pickman says, his hand lights on Soul’s shoulder.

“A rule?”

“I decided a long time ago to only work alone.” He laughs, “I am glad you answered my note. I wasn’t sure you would. Most people are so predictable but you-”  

Soul pushed a strand of his hair out of his face and cleared his throat. He bends down to the shorter man, and pecks him once on the lips. Pickman blinks.

“You are something special.” He whispers in shock. It clears quickly but not before Soul can wedge the door open and slip though. Soul hears laughing . “A kiss at the door.” Pickman’s voice carries through the wall, with a more jovial tone than he ever heard in the man’s voice. “A true classic, next time we meet, I’ll invite you up to see my etchings.”

(Here you are. Do with it as you will. I didn’t know enough to write a Guy/Pickman but I hope its close enough.) 

[returnn-of-the-mac]

This is part 2 of this prompt asked by @thegamingduck88. There’s going to be one more part that’s going to take place several days later, when Sole has a prosthetic limb and has to learn how to walk again. No Codsworth, Ada, Strong, and Dogmeat to be found here. Thank you for your patience and please enjoy!

Part 1

Part 3

FO4 Companions React: Sole Losing Leg To a Mirelurk (Part 2)

Once they got Sole to shore, [companion] lay Sole down gently and investigated their injury. When they realized that an attempt to reattach the leg would be futile, they realized they would have to find another way to help Sole regain mobility.

MacCready:

“Well...this sucks. Leg reattachment isn’t going to work.” MacCready looked around and found a stick. He then used a plate, wonder glue, and a rope to make a stable peg leg for Sole, “Guess this junk wasn’t completely useless after all. Good call.”

Sole tried walking, but the leg kept sinking into the sand. MacCready put an arm around Sole and guided them to the raft they had taken to the island.

“It’s not perfect, but it’s something,” MacCready stated, “Practice makes perfect, right?”

Cait:

“Now what are we gonna do with ye?” Cait asked, her hands on her hips. “Yer helpless.“

An annoyed Sole tried to stand, but fell right back into the dirt.

Cait signed and held out her hand, which Sole graciously accepted.

“Look. I don’t know what where gonna do with ya, darlin. Ye can’t even stand on yer own two fe—er, one...foot. I can’t lug ye around like some kinda meat sack here, there, and everywhere.”

Sole stared sadly at their companion.

“Maybe we can find ye a doctor,” Cait suggested, “I don’t know how to help ye. I really don’t. But I’m going to try.”

Sole cracked a small smile, and Cait returned the gesture.

“There’re no doctors to be found on this island, so we havta go back to the mainland. We can come back once yer healthy again.”

The redhead scooped up Sole and placed them on a beached rowboat. She then hopped in and began paddling back to the Commonwealth.

Preston:

“I don’t think I can get that leg back on, General. I’m sorry,” Preston apologized, “But what you really need is medical attention. How about we get you to a doctor on the mainland.”

Sole sighed.

“We can come back when you’re better, don’t you worry about that,” Preston promised, “We just have to make sure you’re healthy. I think our best bet would probably be Greygarden. Those Mr. Handys and Ms. Nannys are adept at these kinds of things.”

Danse:

Danse sighed and gently helped Sole off their feet, putting an arm around them to stabilize them.

“The prognosis on your leg is bleak,” Danse began, “But I’ll take you to Cade and you‘ll be all right. He’s an expert at dealing with these injuries. It is not uncommon for our soldiers to lose limbs.”

Sole frowned at the news, and Danse sensed their disappointment.

“Proctor Ingram is missing a leg as well,” the Paladin reminded his companion, “And individuals don’t usually notice until she points it out. She has custom power armor and a high-quality prosthetic limb that was specially crafted for her. You will receive the same treatment, soldier. It’ll be alright.”

With that, Danse partially lifted Sole and leaned them against his body, helping them sit upright as he flared to a nearby Vertibird for help.

Hancock:

“That leg is in pretty rough shape, my friend,” Hancock admitted. He thought for a moment. “I mean all I can really do now is offer you some chems and bring you back to Goodneighbor to see Doctor Amari.”

Sole sighed.

“I know that’s not what you wanna hear, [brother/sister], but that’s the best option we’ve got. You don’t want that leg getting infected, do you? If that were to happen...that’s a whole cesspool of shit that you don’t wanna deal with. Trust me.”

Hancock wrapped an arm around Sole, helping them to their feet. He guided them to a beached rowboat.

“The good news is that we know where Spectacle Island is now, so we can always come back when you recover.”

Deacon:

“That leg isn’t coming back on, pal,” Deacon stated, “Sadly, humans aren’t as easy to put back together as Mr. Pumpkin Heads.”

He looked around, almost immediately spotting the beached rowboat.

“Leaving you here isn’t an option, obviously. It’s against the tiny print of our contract,” Deacon joked.

An unamused Sole squinted.

“Hey, hey! I’m only teasing! I wouldn’t even think of abandoning you here; I’m not a Brotherhood member, after all! We’re all bog dysfunctional family, right?”

Deacon helped Sole to their feet and guided them to the rowboat, “I’m going to bring you back to the HQ. Those guys know more than I do when it comes to this kinda medical mumbo-jumbo.”

Piper:

“Oh Blue you’re leg...it isn’t good,” Piper states, biting her lip, “I don’t think we’re gonna be able to save it.”

She mournfully looked at Sole, and then scanned the area for anything she could use to aid them.

“What you need is a doc, Blue. Someone with medical training. And that’s not me, sadly. We can probably use that little boat over there to get you back to Diamond City. Dr. Sun is good at what he does.”

Piper helped Sole to their feet and guided them to the rowboat. She struggled a bit before noticing a large stick on the ground.

“Blue, here. Why don’t you use this stick as a can and put some of your weight on it,” the reporter suggested, “I’m a journalist, not a body builder you know.”

Curie:

“Hmm. This is going to be...um...tricky,” Curie began, stroking her chin, “The salt water— or maybe the time it took for us to get to shore— made the leg near impossible to reattach. I sincerely apologize, [Madame/Monsieur].”

She sat in the sand, dumping all the contents of she and Sole’s bags on the ground. She picked around their combined inventory for nearly an hour, pulling out various odds and ends. When she was finished, she turned to Sole, purified water, Med-X, and stimpack in hand.

“I will be making a prosthetic limb out of what I was able to scavenge —giddyup butter cup legs, gears, other items— and I will be attaching it,” Curie gently held Sole’s hand, “I will use Stimpacks to help you through the process, and Med-X as anesthesia so you do not have to see or feel anything.”

Sole gulped and Curie giggled.

“No need to panic, had a been a human , I would have had the equivalent of a— PhD, is it? I would have been one of the most certified medical specialists in the Commonwealth. You are safe. Do not fret, [Madame/Monsieur].”

X6-88:

“You need professional medical assistance, [sir/ma’am],” X6 plainly stated, “I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but I’m going to transport you to the Institute.”

Sole frowned.

“[Sir/Ma’am], I don’t think you fully understand the magnitude of this situation. That injury is severe. If it were to get infected, you would die. No doubt about it,” the Courser continued, “The Institute has among the most certified medical professionals around. All operations are also undergone in a safe, sterile environment to minimize the risk of infection. Are you ready to go, [sir/ma’am]?”

Sole nodded and X6 approached them. He wrapped an arm around them helping them to their feet and teleported them to the Institute.

Nick:

“Sorry to break it to you pal, but I’m going to be frank: there is no way that leg is going back on. It’s just too risky.”

Sole fought back tears, frustrated by the news.

The detective sensed their anguish and sat down next to them. “Hey, don’t feel defeated, now,” he reassured, “Do you know how many times I’ve had to be repaired? And I think I’m still pretty damn good at what I do.”

Sole took a deep breath, slightly comforted by their companion’s support.

“Now let’s get you into that rowboat and back to the Commonwealth. Dr. Amari can probably fix you right up. We can come back and establish this settlement once you’re feeling better, alright?”

Sole nodded in agreement and Nick helped them to their feet. He put his arm around Sole’s waist and carefully guided them back to the boat.

Longfellow:

“Hm. That’s quite the leg injury you’ve got yourself there,” Longfellow commented, “Now, I’m not a medic. I don’t have the slightest clue how to even approach this operation. I’ll I know is that I need my magic water.”

Longfellow took a swing of his whiskey and offered some to Sole, “Might help ya hurt less.”

The old man thought for a moment. “I suppose we could get you to the Mariner via,” Longfellow sloppily pointed his whiskey in the direction of the tiny rowboat, “Her.”

Sole nodded and Longfellow helped them into the rowboat.

“All hands hoy! Yes? Very good; anchors aweigh!”

Gage:

“Boss I ain’t gotta clue how to reattach ya leg over here. Hell, I don’t even know anyone competent enough to even reattach that sucker.”

The raider picked up the leg and studied it. He grimaced, and tossed it into the water. Sole gasped.

“We ain’t gonna be needin that anymore. Mirelurk food,” Gage shrugged, “What? Just bein honest, boss. What’re we gonna do? Mount it?”

The raider approached his companion, picked them up, and slung them over his shoulder, “Whatcha need is not me bullshittin around tryna pop in a limb that ain’t gonna connect. Ya feel? Ya need the real deal. I’m sure ya got some fellas in at least one of your settlements that’s a bona fide Doc.”

Gage plopped Sole beside him in the middle of the rowboat and began paddling to the Commonwealth.

[zirawrites]

Prompts huh?Okay...how about companions on their first date with the sole survivor?

Wow, congrats on being my first reaction message! I am so nervous to post this, but I hope everyone enjoys it!!! This was so wholesome, I was hoping someone would send me fluffy messages

Cait: Honestly, Cait wasn’t sure if she had heard Sole right the first time. They wanted to go on a DATE with her? Like in those pre-war books they talked about all the time? It took some convincing, but Cait agreed to meet Sole that night in Sanctuary, though she wasn’t sure why. The only thing Cait heard about dating from Sole’s time was that two people dressed up fancy and went out to dinner. She was more of a combat boots and moonshine girl herself. Cait wanted to suggest that if Sole had some sort of affection towards her they just fight it out. You can’t love someone who gives you a black eye, right?

Well, Cait didn’t suggest it, and now she trekked across the bridge connecting the settlement from Red Rocket. It was chilly that night, and Cait tugged her jacket close to her corset. She was under-dressed, wasn’t she? It wasn’t like she had pin-curlers and lipstick to spare. If Sole really cared for her, they’d have to accept her freckled face and the dirty fingernails that now scratched at them nervously.

Cait headed towards the dim light glowing near the river, and saw Sole patiently waiting at a picnic bench. They had lit a few candles, and had two bowls of… bar snacks? There was no table cloth. Sole wore a t-shirt and jeans, not dress clothes. And when she stood awkwardly in front of them, Sole sheepishly held up a bottle of moonshine.

“Is this okay?” Sole asked. “I didn’t think you’d want a lobster dinner. We could get… what’s that you’re always saying…?”

“Piss drunk?” Cait asked, and laughed in relief. “Shite, darln’, you know me better than’ I thought.” When Sole stared back quietly in case Cait was being sarcastic, her face softened. “It’s… perfect.”

“Good,” Sole responded, and pat the seat next to them. “First, we drink. Then we’ll talk about fighting to the death. Since I can’t take you to a movie afterwards.”

Codsworth (synth): Codsworth knew that he must remind Sole of plenty pre-war memories whenever they were together, even though he no longer looked like a Mr. Handy. Whenever he caught them laughing at an old pop culture reference or picture he managed to salvage from before the bombs, his mind was reeling with the possibility Sole could be upset. Like their relationship was just a facade. Sole might hate the sight of him because he represented a life they were robbed of.

Now that Codsworth watched Sole cook dinner for him in their old Sanctuary kitchen, he wasn’t so sure. He had dressed his very best, and even found a flower to give them (because he was a gentleman, of course). It wasn’t everyday Sole experienced old-world chivalry, and blushed when Codsworth gave them a platonic kiss on their hand.

As Sole finished up their meal, they talked about the old neighborhood. How much Codsworth hated the cat that hissed whenever he went outside to cut the grass. That time Sole locked cookies in the oven on Christmas Eve and nearly burnt the house down.

In the middle of their laughter, Sole stumbled forward and dropped a plate. Codsworth jumped off the bar stool and crouched down to pick up the pieces of glass.

“Codsworth, I told you not to help with this,” Sole said, and sat on the floor. “You’ve always made my food. I said I wanted to return the favor.”

They both reached for the same piece of glass, and brushed fingers against one another. Instead of pulling away, Codsworth softly took Sole’s hand. “I know, mum/sir,” he whispered. “But… I think I was made to be there for you.” Codsworth smiled and squeezed her fingers. “Honestly. It was written on my packaging.”

Curie: Curie had ready plenty of scientific textbooks and technical manuals, but when Sole gave her a box of romance novels, she was enthralled with the idea of dating. The entire ritual seemed… so unusual. Curie had experienced multiple states of emotion since becoming a synth, but none of them came close to what she thought the characters falling in love felt. Out of curiosity, Curie asked Sole if they would take her on a date. For science, of course.

Sole pulled out all the stops. They brought Curie a small bouquet of flowers (which had taken forever to accumulate throughout the Commonwealth). Sole took Curie through several museums and talked about their favorite pre-war history. They stopped at Diamond City for dinner at Takahashi’s noodle stand. And ended the evening back at Curie’s door.

Sole gave Curie a soft kiss on her cheek before making sure she got home alright. As soon as the survivor disappeared down the road, Curie pressed her back to the door. She finally felt those butterflies her novels wrote about.

Danse: Danse hadn’t left Sole’s side much since realizing he was a synth. The Brotherhood used to dictate every aspect of his life from when he woke up in the morning to where his head hit a pillow at night. He needed direction. He needed stability. Hell, Danse needed to feel NORMAL.

It was his idea to take Sole on a date. They had done so much for him, including sparing his life. Since Danse didn’t like to drink or dance, he found himself waiting patiently for Sole under some shade. He had laid out a picnic for the two of them. Danse figured he would enjoy some quiet, intimate time with Sole outside of their hectic everyday lives.

When Sole finally arrived, Danse stood up from the blanket and cleared his throat. He struggled to maintain eye contact when all he wanted to do is sheepishly look at his feet. He had killed hundreds of super mutants and faced men twice his size in battle. But confess his feelings? That was a mission he had yet to face.

“This is lovely,” Sole commented. “But… I thought you didn’t eat?”

As Sole finished their sentence, they heard something whirring above. It was a vertibird, and it was returning to the Prydwen just in sight. Sole knew why Danse chose the small patch of shade under the trees.

“I thought we could enjoy the view,” Danse said, and the two sat down to talk above the soft rumblings of a ship that once brought them together.

Deacon: Deacon couldn’t remember the excuse he gave Sole to meet him atop of the Old North Church. He thought it may have had something to do with asking to use Sole’s Pip-Boy and find a buried chest full of Fancy Lads, but that was how he got them to meet him at Sunshine Tidings Co-op and tip brahmin. Or was that he got Tinker Tom to give him some old recall codes? He supposed it didn’t matter.

All Deacon was fixated on was how Sole actually said yes to watching the sunset with him. He had greeted his partner with a bottle of wine and music softly playing from the radio. No disguises. No lies. Only him, Sole, and questions about if they were really going to dig up Fancy Lads.

“Happy Times” began to play just as the stars glittered above them, and all Deacon could see was Sole’s faint outline from the glow of his lantern. He watched a smile tug at the edges of their mouth. It was obvious they liked the song.

“Okay, okay, you win,” Deacon said. He stepped off the edge of the building both of them were sitting on, and stretched out his hand. “The wine. The stars. The sappy music. I get it, boss. You can’t resist me.” Sole’s nose crinkled as they stifled back a laugh. “We can dance. Just don’t get any ideas and put your hand too low. It’ll take me another bottle before I’m that easy.”

Hancock: Hancock had all of Goodneighbor at his beckoning to plan the perfect first date with Sole. At the Third Rail, Magnolia played all of her greatest hits. And though he was rather high, Hancock managed to wash out every last stain of blood in his signature coat before leaning casually on the bar to wait for Sole.

His expression didn’t show an ounce of insecurity. The Ghoul radiated confidence (and actual rads). After some schmoozing and a drink, Hancock took Sole by the hand and led them out on the dance floor. He had tipped Magnolia before the show for her to place songs that let Hancock hold his date close.

It was a night of drinking, dancing, and drugs. By the end of the night, Sole could barely stumble back to Hancock’s room. Judging by their sleepy expression, Sole wouldn’t remember most of their date by the morning. Hancock just chuckled to himself as he tucked them in to bed and left to sleep on the couch nearby.

Sole may have faced the Institute, but their hangover would prove more difficult than battling all the synths of the Commonwealth.

MacCready: Would MacCready be breaking his promise if he swore under his breath and how lovely Sole looked in their outfit? He couldn’t hide his blush as Sole took his arm and the two started on their walk. MacCready was a simple guy. The two got drinks in the lounge they first met. Before they started drinking, MacCready was a shaking mess. He stumbled over his words, nervously bit his lip, avoided eye contact. It was just so… weird looking at Sole as anything but his old boss.

After several beers and Sole encouragingly taking his hand, MacCready laid on the compliments. He was calling them a knock-out and playing childishly with the ends of their hair as they shared a couch. Sole wasn’t able to get MacCready to dance, but they managed to steal a goodnight kiss when he walked them home.

Even though he was drunk, MacCready returned to the blabbering mess he was at the beginning of the evening.

Preston: Nothing sounded better to Preston than sharing a romantic dinner at the Castle and discussing pre-war history. Sole’s life fascinated them; every intimate crevice. Preston respected Sole as his general, but was falling in love with them for their kind soul.

To Sole’s amusement, he had planned fireworks at the end of the night. He had spent a respectful distance apart from Sole to stay gentlemanly, but as the colors exploded across the sky, Preston bravely took Sole’s hand. Without hesitating, Sole turned to kiss Preston’s lips, and returned their attention back on the fireworks.

Though Preston stayed calm and polite the rest of the evening, he couldn’t help but play that moment again in his head as he went to bed. He hoped his next mission with Sole would end the same way.

Piper: “Am I hearing you right, Blue?” Piper didn’t understand why Sole would be interested in taking her on a date. She was a naturally inquisitive person. For Piper, there was always an angle.

She honestly said no the first time Sole asked. The two had such a close bond that Piper didn’t want to lose Sole over something so… avoidable. So Sole had to get creative. Over the next week, Sole took out several ads through Nat for Piper’s next issue. When Piper was editing the paper and saw was requesting someone give them the world to the most beautiful woman in Diamond City with a picture of herself, Piper couldn’t resist. Sole was such a wordsmith.

The date itself was very simple. The two drank and talked about their families in Diamond City, Piper admitted she wanted to travel more; get beyond the ugly green gates. Sole said they sometimes went down to the vault to visit their spouse. When the air between them became tense, Sole asked, “How do you always get the truth out of me?”

Piper took a long drag of her cigarette. “I could ask you the same thing, dollface.”

Nick: Nick blamed his pre-war mind on his thirst for romance. He knew Sole deserved the best gentleman in the Commonwealth, and since it seemed their affections were focused on him, he had a lot to live up to. Their first date was straight out of a romance novel, and Sole couldn’t have asked for more. Nick balanced respect and flirtation like a master. 

The two planned on dancing in any hole-in-the-wall club he could find, but on their walk it began to rain. Nick took off his coat and placed it over Sole so they wouldn’t get wet. “Can’t have you melting on me,” Nick said. “I don’t think this old synth’s circuits can take it.”

Sole was worried. Could Nick get wet? She wasn’t sure how an older model could weather a storm. They tried to protest, but Nick placed his hand on their back and carried on their walk. It gave him an excuse to be closer to them… until the dancing, of course.

X6-88: X6 thought dating was highly inappropriate. Sole was his superior, and he wasn’t programmed for romance. But every time Sole stood her own against raiders or solved a problem in the Institute? He felt his chest swell with a tinge of… admiration.

So their first date was Solely quality time to appreciate their success under Father. He had plenty of questions to ask Sole. How could she stay so close to friends like Nick and Hancock when they pledged their loyalty to using synths for labor and eradicating ghouls? How did it feel to see their son alive after all this time? What was it like to lose their spouse?

Sole interrupted X6′s barrage of questions at that last one. “Why do you need to know what loss feels like?” they asked. “I thought you said you didn’t feel emotion like that.”

X6 stayed cool under his shades, but cringed at the way his fingers were twitching. “I suppose I would be upset if I lost you,” he admitted. “It may be a flaw in my programming. I should get that checked.”

Sole shook their head. “It means you’re capable. If you’re afraid of someone leaving, you’re strong enough to keep them safe.”

X6 said he thought he understood. And then he excused himself to his quarters. He had some flowers to throw away because two bold moves in one day seemed too much.