Fallout 4: AR

17. Affinity

I regained consciousness with a tortured gasp only a few minutes later, the soft soothing murmur of my companion close by my ear. "Dammit. Hold on, Boss. I got ya. Stay still. Don't move. Damn. I've got ya." The encouraging words continued in a round of variations, a constant rumble of concern. That's when I realized I was lying on my good left side, my back propped against the kneeling legs of my bodyguard, warmly supporting my body. He had my right arm held up and over my head, exposing the painful wound on my side. Blood trickled down my arm, soaking the fabric by my shoulder. "I got one already, but this one is really going to hurt." Setting my arm down, he soothed, "Stay still, gotta get this out."

A moment later, the slice of his combat knife forced a tortured scream from my lips as he ruthlessly dug in between my ribs, giving a twisting flick to dislodge the bullet wedged there. "I've got ya. Hold on, almost done." I focused on the sound of his voice, panting shallowly. "Don't move. I've got ya, Boss." A second later, I felt the almost laughable pinch of additional pain from the stimpak MacCready administered to my mangled side. With the hiss of injection, a cool spread of nearly instant numbness blanketed the fiery torment of my ribs and arm. I shuddered in relief, feeling the healing drug work its scientific magic on my body.

MacCready pulled my bloodstained shirt back down to cover the swiftly healing wound and helped me get my arm back into the warm leather jacket. Drained and wheezing from the effort, I just sprawled there, half-supported against his legs. "Better?" he asked, then added quickly, "No, don't answer. I know that's the first stimpak you've ever gotten. They're miraculous, but take a toll. Give it a minute to work, I'm not going anywhere." He patted my shoulder. "Here, let me give you a Med-X. That will help with the pain."

Another pinch of an injection. Soon, my panting breaths deepened into normalcy as the pain subsided. "Th- Thank you." I stammered out. "You saved my life, again. This is becoming a habit."

"Are you kidding me?" was the incredulous, almost angry, reply. "Why are you thanking me? It's my responsibility to keep you alive! Not," he muttered bitterly, "like I'm doing such a good job of it right now." I could feel his sigh of self-recrimination against my back.

"I'm alive, aren't I?" I stated firmly. "Then you're doing your job. Are they gone?"

"Yeah, they were stupid enough to come back up with everyone. That grenade finished them off." His voice grew angry again. "But if I hadn't dragged you here, this wouldn't have happened! There were too many of them for just the two of us to take on. And my 'brilliant' plan was useless. It's always my stupid decisions; I get people killed..." he broke off suddenly and tensed up.

Aha. With the pain taken care of, and the stimpak mending my side, I was able to think a little more clearly. I think this might be important. "MacCready," I began, pivoting slightly to look at him, but staying supported against his legs, "you didn't drag me here. If you remember, the decision was mine. You asked me, and I agreed."

"Why?" the question was asked in a heartbreakingly dejected tone. "I don't get it. You've got your own problems. Why saddle yourself with mine?" His eyes were shaded by the brim of his cap, but the naked expression briefly peeking through made him look terribly young and unsure of himself. It was the look of a man who just couldn't believe in kindness, in humanity, and it stabbed into my heart.

"Maybe because I want to pay forward the kindness shown to me by some complete strangers in an unfamiliar city?" He snorted scornfully, the acerbity returning to his face. "Okay, or maybe because my bodyguard has gone above and beyond trying to teach me how to survive, and I wanted to find a way to help him in return?"

"I'm telling ya, Boss-"

"I know, I know," I interrupted him, "you were paid to watch my back." Sharp, unpleasant memories resurfaced, and my voice grew harsh. "So. Fucking. What?" His eyes widened in surprise. "I've worked with people who would certainly follow the letter of the contract, but no more... who would willingly 'watch my back' as it filled up with bullets." I was working into my tirade now, feeling a bit brash from the stimpak's healing rush. "Some so-called professionals would have moved just a hair too slow reloading, or left me behind when I couldn't get out of the way, despite the pithy platitudes." I pinned him with an angry stare of my own. "And yes, I have been left behind, left for dead, used as a guinea pig for chemical testing. Fortunately, they were simulated exercises and no one was actually killed, but the harsh lesson was there for me to learn."