Fallout 4: AR

85. Returning Home

The first thing I noticed was the sensation of an all-over ache, a soreness that prodded me out of the black void of unconsciousness. I was on my back, limbs sprawled awkwardly across a smooth hard surface, lightly padded with a thin carpet. Everything hurt, my muscles twitching in response, my skin sensitive to the lightest sensation. I opened my eyes to the sight of my own dining room ceiling lit by the morning sun streaming in through the windows. I was alone, the only noise the quiet hum of the refrigerator motor and my ragged breathing.

"Hhhnnn..." I groaned, turning over painfully, confused and disoriented. "What time is it?" A glance at the large digital wall display gave me my answer. It was the morning after the night I opened the box and started my adventure. "Wait... how?" My thoughts were confused, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.

I must have been transported back. "I didn't want to leave," I whispered brokenly. "What happened?" The power feeding through my system must have activated the Pip-Boy somehow. I didn't know that would happen.

The crushing realization suddenly hit me. Wait a minute, I'm back home. "No," I whispered in horrified denial, searching the room. "I'm alone." I'm alone. "No!" I curled up on my side, too heartbroken to move. "Oh, RJ," I sobbed. The reactor was ready to blow. There's no way he could have gotten out in time. He's gone.

I could barely breathe from the wracking sobs that tore through my body. His last act had been to save me. The man I loved, the man I had spent nearly every waking moment with for months on end, the man who had been my perfect partner, lover, friend... he was gone. I had learned to live in that alternate reality, adapted, survived, and was planning for a future, damn it! The one man who made it worthwhile... was dead... because of me.

In a fit of sudden anger, I tore at the device on my arm. The Pip-Boy was charred black, twisted and distorted, its screen shattered, the arm fasteners melted in place. Viciously, I slammed my forearm against the floor, trying to break open the cuff and get it off of me. "No! No! No! Dammit!" I sobbed.

Again and again I pounded the broken Pip-Boy down, finally chipping enough of the fasteners free to remove it. Underneath, my arm was burned and further scarred, the pain barely registering over the agony of my soul. The faint lines where the ribbons of metal had grown into my body were only blackened shadows now, the line of pin receivers nothing more than ash and flaking metal dusting to the floor.

I threw the hated reminder of my alternate life across the room, overcome with another wave of grief. I howled in loss and despair. Yes, I was home. What did it matter? Yes, I had family and friends, even if they were far away. But I was in love, and my love was gone, and it was my fault. Reaching into my jacket pocket, I took out the carved wooden soldier he had given me the night we had finally admitted our feelings for each other. It was my only memento, the only thing I had left of our love.

I will never forgive myself. Never. Oh, RJ...

I don't know how long I lay there unmoving, weeping on and off in loss and despair, and I didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. I would live out the rest of my life as a hollow shell, work and go home, work and go home. Memories from my life in the Commonwealth played through my mind. The good, the bad, the terrifying fights for my life... all overlaid with a sardonic grin and crystal blue eyes. Phantom caresses from his calloused fingers teased across my side, grasped my hands. Remembered warmth shared beneath tattered blankets in the freezing cold winter scattered like dust motes across the floor.

I don't want to move. If I move, this becomes real, and I'll never see...

My anguished wail echoed back at me from the walls. Just like the echo at the Third Rail, when RJ heard me sing for the first time. The random, happy memory floated up for a moment, then burst into shattering fragments of soul-tearing pain.

He's dead. A fresh wave of grief rose up to drag me down into incoherent sobbing, clutching the carpet as if by the strength of my grip alone I could return to Goodneighbor, to our home. I'm so sorry, love. I'm so sorry. The thought repeated endlessly in my head, a monotone fugue. At some point, I drifted into an emotionally exhausted doze, still curled on the dining room floor clutching the toy soldier.

-0-

It was nearly dark when a small sound from the living room caused me to startle awake. Burglars? Even filled with grief, my sense of self-preservation nevertheless asserted itself, and I clambered quietly to my feet. I no longer had my firearms and my Pip-Boy was a useless hunk of melted metal, but I grabbed a large knife from the kitchen and crept around the corner. A shadowed form lay half hidden by the coffee table. Gripping the knife in shaking hands, I moved forward slowly, hesitating at every step.

The lanky form was sprawled on its side. It groaned, a vaguely familiar sound to my ears, and rolled over. Seeing my approach, it... he, stood up slowly, shakily, hands up in a placating gesture. A tattered leather duster framed the man's body. His face was in shadow, but the flash of a loving, rueful smile still reached me.

Suddenly nerveless fingers dropped the knife to clatter noisily to the floor. It can't be. My mouth opened and closed, but no sound came out.

"If that's what it felt like when you first showed up, I can't blame you for being disoriented. Nice place you got here. Glad I finally get to see it in person." Amused crystal blue eyes glittered beneath a familiar green cap, and I was unexpectedly swept into a passionate embrace. "Hello, angel."

"RJ?"

-Fin-