Fallout 4: AR

55. Diversion

"Care to tell me your side of the story?" We were sitting propped against the waist-high cupola wall, basking in the afternoon sunbeams, our feet dangling off the narrow observation platform. We had made our way to the top of the steeple in silence, gathering our packs and enough supplies for an overnight stay. Setting up a hasty camp at the enclosed and protected base of the stairs helped restore a sense of companionable normalcy to our strained relationship. The steeple was a perfect spot to have a private talk with my partner, but I had been in no hurry to rush things. It was enough to just be near him, enjoying the sense of partnership, the balance of shared tasks to secure our privacy and comfort. I focused on memorizing every detail of my companion, shoving my own conflicted despair to the back of my mind. Time enough to worry about my situation later. I really don't want to think about it right now.

Once freed from the presence of the Railroad's members, MacCready was more willing to open up to me. "When you disappeared, I- I lost it, I guess. All that was going through my mind was how I let you down, again. I wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough to stop that Courser from grabbing you. My ears started ringing and the world went fuzzy." We leaned against each other, drawing comfort from physical contact, something we both craved. "I... don't remember much after that."

"Deacon said you went on a shooting spree."

"I may have," he mumbled. "By the time I came to my senses, my magazine was empty and Danse had me cornered against the wall." He shook his head, brushing at his cheek with one hand. "Muttering the same kind of nonsense we all do when trying to calm someone down."

"And then?"

"And then he made things worse by telling me that was basically the last I'd ever see of you. That the Institute would have you replaced with a Synth and I couldn't trust anyone who looked like you." He broke off the last word and took a shuddering breath. "It felt like he punched me in the gut, but he was only telling me what I already knew. When Deacon finally showed up and didn't contradict the story...? Everyone knows the Institute kidnaps and replaces people." He reached out and absently traced the lines of scarring across my forearm, a habit he had picked up in the last month. "I held on to the hope that you could escape. Hope that was strengthened when Deacon told me about the extra programming Tinker Tom put in your Pip-Boy to help you if you ever got into the Institute. I knew then that I had to wait for you, that when you did get free you'd come straight back, and I just had to be there when you did."

"Oh, RJ..." I pressed against his warm side, his arm coming up to pull me in closer.

"Without you there to keep me thinking rationally, I was completely lost. Lost enough to have listened to that two-faced bastard of a Railroad agent when he gave me the signal that you were a Synth." His arm tightened around me and I snaked my own hand around to give him an answering hug. "I wasn't completely sure, which is why I said something first. I almost killed you, angel!" His voice was a mix of anger and terror, the twisted knot of emotions bursting out in a healing rush, like lancing a boil. "I never would've forgiven myself if I had pressed that blade home."

"But you didn't." I pointed out, resting my head against his shoulder. "It was a tense situation. Deacon made a mistake, RJ. He even apologized for it." Inwardly, my stomach flip-flopped. I didn't realize it was that close, though. Thank the powers that be for his hesitation.

"And I didn't murder him for it. But I won't ever trust him again." MacCready sighed heavily, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Make me civilized?" He shifted a bit on the narrow planks to rearrange our embrace into a slightly more comfortable position. "Or at least more tempered. I wouldn't have hesitated to shoot Deacon before."