Fallout 4: AR

66. And the Walls Came Tumbling Down

(A/N: Chapter art done by Halkuonn/TarberryMentats on commission.  https://twitter.com/halkuonn_ )

The light tickle of MacCready's goatee teased me awake, along with his sleepy nuzzling kiss into the hollow of my ear. We were still lying on our sides, spooned warmly against each other.

"Well, that's a pleasant way to wake up," I yawned, turning and reaching to pull his arms more tightly around me. He was warm but not fevered, and his color was back to normal. I ducked my head under his chin, resting my cheek against his collarbone.

He spopped his tongue against his lips a few times before replying. "Pleasant for you, but all I got was a mouthful of hair. I'm still amazed you cut it."

"All for you, my dear sniper," I teased him, smiling. "Feeling better today? Still in pain?"

He nodded, then shook his head, the motions accompanied by a sigh. "Better. No pain to speak of, but still tired and weak. I've never felt so helpless in my life, not counting the time I was nearly crushed by a cave-in as a kid." He stiffened in remembrance, and I guessed that he was also thinking of when he lost his wife, but didn't press him.

"I'm supposed to give you one more booster. After that, let's see how you feel." I twisted around to pluck the last of the syringes from the bedside table, fumbling for the cannula in his arm. Injecting the final anti-venom dose into the line was difficult lying down, but I wasn't about to spoil our warm cuddle.

MacCready held still, but hissed as the medicine dissipated into his system. "Damn that hurts," he complained, his brows furrowing. "Why can't doctors add a painkiller to it? That's the last one?"

"As far as I know, yes. I guess if you start running a fever again we'll have to get Dr. Sun back." I deeply hoped that wasn't necessary. The cannula was convenient, but I thought having something like that inserted into a vein too long led to problems. I didn't know. "Hey," I asked my partner. "You know how to remove these things?"

He peered down at the small tubing attachment. "I think..." he began tentatively, "I think you just... pull it out slowly. Treat it like any other wound, you know- put pressure on it and stuff. I can help if you want."

"Please."

Removing the IV cannula was simplicity itself. MacCready barely even complained, and "helpfully" pressed my cloth-wrapped thumb to the injection site. While waiting for the bleeding to stop, I said, "I've been thinking about what you said last night..."

"Oh?" His voice was carefully neutral, and when I looked up, he met my eyes with a wary expression. "I don't quite remember all of it, but I hope I didn't make too much of a fool of myself?"

I shook my head. "Not at all." I felt him relax. "I think what you had to say was probably the most important thing I needed to hear, honestly."

"Well, that's a nice boost to my ego," he deflected with a little chuckle. "So..."

"I'm staying." I announced, interrupting his further attempts at humor, not knowing how else to get to the point. I didn't want to drag things out.

MacCready's mouth dropped open in complete dumbfounded shock. His eyebrows rose, eyes widening in astonishment. The hand pressing my thumb against his arm started to tremble. His mouth closed with a snap and he blinked rapidly.

"Are you insane?" His voice rose angrily with each word, letting go of me and sitting upright. "How the hell did you come to that decision?" he demanded. "What about your home? Your family? Are you giving up on them?"

"No." After the tender, honest words last night, his reaction startled me. I stared deeply into his eyes, willing him to feel the sincerity of my choice. "I'm not giving up, RJ. I'm making my own damn decisions." The blue depths were a swirl of emotion. "I may have been brought here against my will, but it's my choice to stay, and I've made my decision."