The air was heavy from the storm rolling in on the horizon.
And thick with smoke and wasted gunpowder.
The smell of burning metal and circuitry scorched her nostrils as Nora tried not to focus on the absolute massacre of the synthetic bodies that laid in pieces at her feet. She tried to ignore the heat of the overworked, and bullet-dry turret nearby that still attempted to rapid fire- attempting to empty out its' already emptied stock. She even tried to ignore the sinking feeling in her chest as she watched yet another one of her men strip off his jacket and gently place it on top of a fallen friend- trying to choke back tears as he did so.
...
Nora just tried to stay focused on the wounded woman who leaned heavily against her for support; the woman whose legs half-walked, and half-dragged with every step as they stumbled across the courtyard together.
The woman whose warm blood was soaking in through the side of her heavy coat, discoloring the royal blue material.
Nora whispered words of encouragement over the rolling thunder in the distance- saying what she needed to so she didn't focus on the pained noises that came in with the storm.
Ducking through one of the Castle's many stone doorways, Nora used every ounce of strength she could muster to get the two of them through the crowded passageways. She held her breath as different Minutemen rushed back and forth through the narrow hallways- trying to transport supplies from one end of the Castle to the next in the shortest amount of time possible.
It was difficult to not risk getting knocked down by their frantic, justified, running, so Nora tried to hug the wall to stay out of their way and minimize the chances of a collision. Most of them darted to the side as soon as they saw her though- attempting to clear a path for her.
Every now and again, she'd catch a glimpse of Preston in the crowd, either helping to bring the wounded inside, or getting the supplies moved around from room to room. His duster was stained pretty liberally with blood, no doubt from the people he had been pulling in from outside. She wished she could spare just a few seconds to speak with him, to make sure he was alright, but... they both had their hands full.
... She had to admire everyone's tenacity in the aftermath of what had been two hours of hell.
She had to admire everyone's dedication to their fellow man; they were doing everything they could to help the wounded, to make certain that they would live to see the next day.
...
It made her proud- proud to wear the heavy, blue coat that had been passed down from General to General.
The same one that now felt like lead weights on her shoulders.
Nora gave a sigh of relief as she finally found an empty bed amongst the chaos- an empty room as well; although she didn't foresee it being long before they had company, before they had a neighbor in the second bed. She guided the woman over to it and gently helped her down onto the partial stained mattress. Her body ran cold at the pained cry that escaped the young soldier- watching as she clutched at her still bleeding side.
If she recalled correctly, through her battle-burned memories, the woman's name was Molly.
"Sorry," Nora whispered, as she eased herself onto the edge of the mattress, and brushed the woman's damp bangs from her face. Her skin was hot to the touch, and covered in a layer of sweat and dirt; she was both flushed with heat and pale from blood loss.
Nora could feel her own hands trembling as she watched the woman take in hard breaths that jerked uncomfortably at her chest; as she watched as the mattress beneath the wounded soldier became more and more stained with blood.
... She couldn't lose another soldier- please.
"I... I'll be alright, General," the woman, Molly, assured; her voice breathless and raspy. Her good hand was covering her left side, which harbored a thick, burnt wound that covered the missing chunk of her skin; she had matching injuries on her left shoulder and hip as well. The smell of burning flesh was overpowering, and overwhelming in the narrow corridors; it could be smelt all throughout the Castle, which made Nora's stomach twist and churn inside of her with every breath. "W-we... we won't, didn't we?"
Nora offered the best smile she could force out as she moved to take the woman by the limp hand that remained at her butchered side. "You bet your ass we did," she nodded, trying to sound and smile triumphantly; although it came out flatter than she had hoped. "The Institute is going to have to think twice before tangling with the Minutemen again. Hell, I bet we even destroyed all of their spare units."
The woman gave a faint laugh- despite the pain it put her in by doing so. "It sure as hell felt like we did, General."
"The Commonwealth will remember this," Nora replied, as she brushed her thumb over the woman's knuckles.
"Praise the Minutemen."
She nodded once more, and forced out a quiet chuckle of her own as she watched the woman's eyes slowly fall close in front of her. "That's right..." Nora whispered, hearing her own voice crack under the pressure, "praise the Minutemen."
"... Excuse me, General?"
Nora slowly looked up at the call and took note of a second Minuteman standing nearby; he wore a white ribbon around his arm, which she recognized immediately. "Right," she sighed, more so to herself, before she pushed up to her feet. She squeezed the woman's hand and offered another smile. "You've made the Commonwealth, and me, proud tonight. Don't ever forget that," she spoke, feeling the woman squeeze her hand in return, before Nora gently let go of it.
Moving away from the bed, Nora watched as the medic drew up a chair to begin work on the wounded woman, before she quickly stepped out.
...
She felt a hard chill run over her entire body as she listened to the faint sounds of pained groans and screams that echoed around in the stone corridors. There were far too many wounded to count, and they were stretched pretty thin when it came to having enough medics to go around.
Nora knew everyone was just trying to do their best, doing what they could to make the wounded comfortable... and she could only pray that it was enough.
At the very least, she was thankful that she had stored any and all of the Minutemen's extra supplies at the Castle. It made it a little difficult for some of their units, especially since they had to go off their usual patrol routes to get here, but... this was their biggest, and most secure location. It only made sense. Not to mention, with all the work she put in convincing the caravan traders to come this way as well, she might as well keep it consistently stocked.
With consistent caravans, and consistent trading, it helped them keep a steady flow of supplies going in and out of Fort Independence.
Which... should help them greatly in this kind of emergency.
For now, they should have an abundance of medical supplies to keep everyone alive, but... she wasn't so certain the supplies would last if they were to suffer a second ambush on the Castle.
Nora tried to distract herself from those kinds of thoughts as she made her way through each of the crowded rooms; she offered what assistance she could, and tended to the wounded who had yet to be looked at. She tried to keep them entertained, or at least distracted enough to be able to ignore the pain- even if by the smallest of amounts. She spared a few stories about the pre-war era, about her time in law school and that idiot she once punched out in a bar- winning the affections of her future husband.
...
But most of all, she told the wounded, and those around them, what they needed to hear.
They needed to hear that she was proud of them- and that they had made her proud of how they had all come together to successfully fight off the Institute. They made her proud by proving that banding together could produce the most impossible of results. They made her proud by standing up against evil and doing so to protect those who couldn't protect themselves.
She promised them that she would make a speech when she could- and when the time was right. And she would tell everyone in the Commonwealth about the miracle that they had pulled off today.
She would tell everyone about those who didn't make it, about those who made the ultimate sacrifice for the safety of the Commonwealth. She would ensure that they would not be forgotten, and that they would all get the hero's burial that they deserved.
...
And it was difficult to not break down when she spoke to them.
Difficult not to break down into uncontrollable sobs when she thought about the men and women who didn't survive the siege.
When she thought about their wounded, but alive, companions who sobbed and cried out their names as they laid in pools of their own blood.
...
When she had made all the rounds that she could, speaking to everyone that she could... Nora allowed herself to step outside.
The cold air felt like it was cutting her skin as the stiff breeze whipped and battered the ragged flags that flew overhead.
Nora walked around the utter mess of blown apart Institute Synths and found herself a quiet corner to disappear into- a quiet corner to let out the horrid, wracking sobs that had been piling and tearing away at her chest.
Fingers dug hard into the crumbling concrete bricks before she began pounding her fists against the merciless stone.
She barely even felt the sharp edges of the stone cutting into the soft, outer side of her hands. She was hitting the wall as hard as she could- feeling each hit send painful vibrations through her aching bones.
It hurt, that much she could feel, and yet she couldn't stop.
Everything that had happened here, the massacre of both Institute Synths and her own Minutemen, the further destruction of the Castle, the cries of the wounded coming from inside...
All of that blood was on her hands.
Nora wanted to scream through each choking sob, but she was struggling enough to keep her outburst quiet- she didn't need someone coming by and seeing her like this. She didn't need someone looking to her for strength and support, only to find her in such a depleted state.
She couldn't bear for someone to see her as weak as she felt.
"So is this it then? Is this where you cut yourself loose and run?"
Nora drew in a hard breath at the voice, before she reluctantly pushed herself away from the wall. Her eyes were locked onto the concrete block in front of her, noticing the barely visible spots of blood on it.
She couldn't even bring herself to look at the older woman- not like this.
"Just when I was startin' to like you too."
"Ronnie, it's... it's not like that," Nora started, her own voice hoarse now.
The older woman gave her a shrug as she lifted the lighter to the cigarette that was balancing between her lips. "Well, could've been worse, I suppose. You could've ran like a coward, or maybe holed yourself up like General Becker did- the poor bastard, bless his soul." Ronnie took a brief drag from her cigarette, before she looked back to the wasted courtyard behind them. Despite the ambush they had just survived, the woman seemed hardly phased by any of it; it made Nora wonder just what exactly had Ronnie lived through before she had arrived. "But instead, you're here, crying like a damn fool in the corner."
The woman's words stung, but... she knew Ronnie meant well.
Or at least, Nora hoped she did.
"... This is all my fault."
Ronnie gave a sort of grunt as she picked the cigarette from her lips. "So, now you've gone stir crazy, have ya?"
"You're not... you're not listening to me," Nora muttered, as she pressed her forehead against the wall, as though trying to bury herself within the hollow concrete bricks. "This is my fault because I- I made enemies with the Institute. I built a machine to get there, and it actually worked, and I... I was there, inside of the heart of the Commonwealth boogeyman. And I..." her voice faded as she recalled the scene over and over again in her head. "I found my son- the real one, not the replica I've been chasing after. My beautiful son, Shaun... he's the Head of the Institute; he calls himself Father. And when I got there, when I met him, he- he asked me to join the Institute with him- so we could finally try to be a family again. But I told him no, not after the atrocities I had seen them commit- not after witnessing the fear his organization put into the people of the Commonwealth. So... he told me that I was forbidden to stay, and forbidden from ever coming back."
Nora didn't know why she was spilling all of this out to Ronnie- God knows she should've just kept it all to herself.
But the words just kept coming, and she couldn't stop them.
"He called me a hostile," Nora spat, hearing her voice trembling now. "He... he sent these Synths here because of me, because of what I told him. And now... now fifteen of my men are dead, countless others wounded, and the Castle is beyond repair. I refused to join the Institute to spite him, and he turned around and destroyed what little I had created in this world."
There were hot tears rolling down her cheeks now, before she struck the concrete wall just one more time- reminding herself of the pain in her abused bones and hands.
"That's a heavy story you're carrying with you, General."
Nora hastily nodded at the remark, before she straightened herself up once again- taking a hard gasp for air as she did so. "I- I got so caught up in my own problems, in my own search... I only thought about myself in that moment. The signs were there, and yet I just wanted to believe that my son... that my son was alive. I was so selfish- I should've known that he would retaliate, that it would come down to something like this. And instead of stopping it, I let it happen." she moved one hand to rub at her eyes, before she ran it down her face- feeling the wet tears on her cheeks. "All of the blood here is on my hands."
Ronnie said nothing at first, and only stared at her through the smoke of her cigarette.
She drew the joint from her lips a few times over, before she briefly pointed it at Nora.
"If your face wasn't hurting as bad as it looks, I'd offer to slap the shit out you," Ronnie finally spoke. "Well, not offer- I'd just do it on my own accord. I'll be frank with you, General, I didn't believe you were cut out for this job. I thought you were just some other hopeless idiot trying to make a quick name for yourself before realizing all the work that needed to be done. I figured you'd run off by the third week. But instead, I got you hunting down caravan and getting traders to go off-road just to get here- coming right up to the front door of the Castle. I got you grabbing all sorts of useless shit and making things out of them- useful things, God forbid. I got you running through the Commonwealth in the dead of night trying to hunt down some poor sucker who got in the wrong way with some Raiders. I got you being the star headline in the newspaper- the same papers that the new recruits show up holding, asking if they can join and stand with you."
"Where are you going with this, Ronnie?" Nora whispered, as she rubbed at her cheeks once more, before she wiped her wet eyes off on her coat sleeve.
The woman puffed at her cigarette before she dropped it and snuffed it out with her boot. "I hate to admit it, but you're one of the greatest things to come to the Minutemen this year. You pulled us back together and gave everyone hope again. Everyone's been infatuated with your journey from day one... Everyone's rooting for you, General, through blood and rain. And when you got that kind of good shit going for you, you don't exactly want to just drop it off because there's a hairline of a chance that someone like you did something wrong."
Nora felt a chill run through her at the words, before she turned to look at the woman.
Her vision was a little blurry, but she could see that Ronnie's stiff expression had yet to budge.
"This 'Father' guy you're talking about, he got his panties all in a bunch because you said no- and then he tried to punish you for it. That ain't on you, General; that's on that immature piece of shit."
... The words felt like a punch to the gut.
But not in the way she had imagined.
"I... that means a lot coming from you," Nora started- although she fully understood that Ronnie had just called her son a piece of shit. But it wasn't... unwarranted. And at this point, could she... could she even call Shaun her son anymore? He was nothing like the man she thought he'd grow up to be; he was nothing like Nate, or her. Besides him being her biological son, there was... there was nothing they shared.
"It should," Ronnie nodded, "now then, what's our next plan of attack here? We can't let that stir-crazy Institute get away with this."
Nora stood there for a moment, studying Ronnie's face and memorizing her words as she ran them through her head over and over again. She couldn't... no, she wouldn't risk letting someone get away with this- to get away with murder and open acts of terror. No matter who they were, or who they ended up not being. She was done being pushed around. "We're going to make them pay for the damages they've caused."
For a split moment, there almost seemed to be a smug grin on Ronnie's face. "Now that's the General I know-"
"CHARMER!"
Nora's head snapped up at the combined voices that called for her, and she looked past Ronnie to see two figures running through the front doors of the Castle; they slightly lost their footing as they ran over the crumbling foundation. Her body went stiff as she recognized the two immediately, and watched as Deacon and Glory slowed down once they hit the ruined courtyard- eventually stopping altogether.
... And it was hard to watch as they both looked around at the massacre that laid at their feet.
It was hard to watch as the look of realization hit them.
This wasn't a new scene to them; this was something that they had personally witnessed over and over again.
Glory clenched her fists, but did little else.
Meanwhile, Deacon put his hands to his knees as he leaned forward- looking as though he was about to be sick.
"Who in tarnation is Charmer?" Ronnie muttered, as she turned to look back at them. "And who the hell are these two rag stags?"
"Let me handle them," Nora offered, as she put her hand on Ronnie's shoulder before she stepped around the woman. Her mind was absolutely racing as she hurried towards the two of them. She knew Deacon was a wanderer, but she didn't think Glory ventured out anywhere but to the Railroad safehouses. Then again, she didn't know either of them to come onto Minutemen property either- the Castle was well out of both of their paths.
Nor did she know them to just... shout out her codename like that.
...
She couldn't imagine how she might've looked to them.
Her General's uniform was scorched from the Institute laser weapons, and stained with patches of blood from the wounded- as well as her own blood in some areas. Her hands were cut up and bloodied on the outer sides from her emotional outburst earlier, but those were easy to hide in the cuffs of her sleeves.
It didn't help that her eyes and cheeks were still raw, and that her body was trembling all over.
"Look at this place..." Glory whispered, as her eyes slowly looked over the mayhem surrounding them.
"Oh God, I got the Switchboard fever coming on," Deacon mildly groaned as he actively seemed to be trying not to throw up. He brushed his hands against the sides of his head before he straightened up at the sound of her footsteps. And despite the sunglasses he was always wearing, Nora could see the heavy concern that was stretched across his face. "Charmer, look, Christ, we didn't..." for once, just once, he seemed utterly speechless- or maybe just clueless on what to lie about.
"It's over," Nora spoke, forcing herself to sound steadier than she felt. "We move on."
It sounded like the right thing to say...
Or at least something Desdemona would say- and if anyone had experience with something like this...
"I'm sorry," Glory started.
"Don't be," Nora assured, "I know you two have experienced this plenty of times before..." the words cut into her like knives, but she told herself that she needed to be strong again. If for anyone here, she had to be strong for herself. "What are you two doing here? You've never come out this far into the Commonwealth- at least not to my knowledge."
"We just got intel from the Patriot," Deacon answered first, looking a little more... alive now. "The Institute is planning on several open attacks across the Commonwealth- most of them being on our safehouses. We think we can divert the main forces before they do any major damages to what we got, but... we're still gonna end up writing off the loss of one or two safehouses- if we're lucky. We're not sure if we can even keep the Old church safe at this point- and that's our only remaining back-up."
Nora drew in a sharp breath at the words, and wondered if this had more to do with her rejection towards Father.
But... had he known about her involvement with the Railroad?
And would he... would he really go this far?
"They're planning an attack on Diamond City."
Deacon's words rang empty for a few seconds as Nora still struggled to comprehend the first half of information. But it didn't take long before the statement sank in, and she felt her stomach go along with it.
"What?" Nora breathed. She could understand the Railroad safehouses and even... even the Castle, but what did the city do to deserve such a disastrous threat? "Why the hell would they attack Diamond City? What for?" she pressed.
"It's a statement," Glory answered; her face and voice stiff when she spoke. "Diamond City is terrified of Synths and the Institute, but they're the great Green Jewel- everyone knows about the city. And the Institute wants to send a message to the Commonwealth; they want to tell everyone that they do exist, and that they're coming- and they're not afraid to do what they have to in order to conquer the surface world.
...
Nora stood there in cold silence- barely feeling the first drops of rain on her face.
... All those innocent people.
Diamond City wasn't equipped to handle themselves against a Synth invasion- no matter how loudly they boasted about it. No Synths were allowed inside, but... it wasn't like there was anything physically stopping them from entering.
Hell, she had taken Glory to the city one or twice before, and no one suspected a damn thing.
Except Myrna, but even then, the woman couldn't prove anything.
"We got our hands tied, and... well, the Minutemen protected Diamond City once before," Deacon finished.
...
The words hit her like a trailer of bricks.
Nora finally understood why they came here- not only to warn her, but... to ask for help.
Help she wasn't sure she could spare.
"We... we were just ambushed ourselves not even two hours ago," Nora started, hearing her voice tremble as she slowly looked at the sheet-covered bodies that had been lined up against part of the Castle wall; they were waiting to be buried as soon as the night was over and the rain had stopped- and they had people to dig the graves. She felt her throat get tight at the sight, and felt her stomach sink as the memories all came flooding back to her. "I lost fifteen good men and women to the Institute tonight- we barely even got the volunteers we needed to hold the Castle. I can't... I don't know if we'll have enough people to protect Diamond City. I don't even know if we'll get there in time to intercept the attack, or if we'll even get lucky like this again."
"I know, believe me... I can see it," Deacon replied; his voice oddly soothing and calm. "But you're the only person we can turn to right now- and Hell, we're pretty desperate in needing you to help with the safehouses."
"I told you I can handle them- I've got the safehouses covered," Glory assured- her voice more like a soft bite, before she turned back to Nora. "If there was another way around this, we'd be there in a heartbeat... but we can't split ourselves any thinner than we already have. We're not equipped to handle a full-scale attack, and I'm not even sure if Dez or Carrington would want us out in the open like that. Right now, our only option is to buckle down and hope we can survive. If we experience another Switchboard, it's over for us; it's over for the Railroad."
...
Nora felt her eyes beginning to burn all over again.
It felt childish and foolish, especially after the outburst she had just had, but... she could feel the hot tears welling up again. Everything was happening all at once, and if she didn't do something, if she didn't make the right choice, then a lot more people would die. Things that she had been around to help bring back up would be torn back down- and it would all come down on her head.
It didn't feel fair...
But she couldn't keep dipping her hands in the blood of the people around her.
"We'll do it."
The words left her before she even settled her mind on anything concrete.
But she couldn't risk losing Desdemona, Glory, or Deacon- or even Carrington or Tinker Tom for that matter. They were too important to her- she wouldn't be where she was now if it weren't for them.
And she couldn't risk losing Diamond City either... not with all those people living in fear there- unknowing and unprepared for an Institute ambush.
"The Minutemen will be at Diamond City as soon as we can regroup," Nora continued, steadying herself out once more. "I promised that I would protect the Commonwealth, and I will- no matter what the Institute tries to throw at us." her words sounded confident, and that had to count for something. She turned back behind her, scanning the courtyard for Ronnie, only to find her missing now. "Ronnie!"
It took a moment or two before the older woman stepped back out of the Castle- another lit cigarette on her lips.
"You need something, General?" Ronnie questioned, as though she hadn't been eavesdropping on the entire conversation when she could.
"I'm going to need some messages sent out," Nora started. "We're going to need additional men to protect Diamond City- call for as many arms as we can get. I don't want to use the broadcast- the Institute could be listening in on us, and that's the last thing we need right now. I don't know how much time we have for this, but... we should expect the smallest time line possible; this has to be done now."
Ronnie shot a look at her, and then moved to Deacon and Glory before she nodded. "... You got it, General."
Good... that was one less thing to worry about- for now.
Nora turned back to the two Railroad agents, and offered what best she could of a bullshit smile. "The Minutemen have this covered, so just worry about yourselves for now."
"You're really committed to this thankless job, aren't you?" Deacon spoke, offering a brief chuckle with his words. "The Minutemen are lucky to have you."
"Everyone is- yourself included, Deacon," Glory replied, as she elbowed the man in the ribs. "Listen Charmer, we gotta head out again. We're hitting up every safehouse we can get to before the Institute strikes. You keep yourself, and your men, safe, and we'll try to keep in touch if we hear anything else. Not sure if there's much on the clock for us, but we'll make due with what we got."
"Thanks again for the heads up," Nora nodded, "you two stay safe as well- and I better see you again when this is all over."
"I have confidence that you will," Glory assured, as she clapped her on the shoulder, before giving it a hard squeeze. "Now then, we gotta run if we want to make it to Mercer before dawn- and I don't want to get stuck carrying Deacon again."
"That was one time."
Nora watched, with a half-heavy heart, as the two of them turned and made their way out of the Castle- hurrying down along the dirt path just outside. She smiled briefly as Deacon gave a ceremonial tap on the arch of the doorway on his way out; she assumed it was his blessing to the Minutemen.
...
She remained where she was standing for a few minutes too long- taking in the striking chill in the air now, as well as the more prominent drops of rain on her coat. The rolling thunder on the horizon had moved on top of them now, while bolts of lightning took its place in the distance.
She hoped Deacon and Glory would stay safe in the storm.
"You gonna head inside, or do you prefer to keep your feet wet?"
Nora snapped back up at the question, before she felt Ronnie's tight hand on her shoulder. "Y-yeah, let's head inside and wait the storm out," she briefly muttered, before she turned and followed the woman into the nearest entrance.
The first thing she noticed was the striking silence inside of the Castle now- a heavy contrast from the commotion that had driven her out before. It left her feeling worried at first, afraid that they had lost even more while she was outside talking. But none of the beds that she could see had a white sheet pulled over them; instead, there was just someone sleeping rather peacefully in it. No doubt all of the wounded were asleep by now- or rather, more accurately, were unconscious from the use of Med-X to numb their pain. And those few who might've still been awake were in a semi-sedated state from the drug's usage.
Even their small team of medics were already dozing off- falling asleep in any available chair, although some of them seemed to prefer the floor. No doubt it would be a long night for them.
... It would a long night for everyone.
"Back to business, if we're not going to use the broadcast, then how do you want these messages sent out?" Ronnie pressed, as she fumbled to get some loose papers pulled out from her jacket; no doubt they had been taken from the broadcasting table outside just before the rain kicked in. "We don't exactly have any runners available- unless we can spare one of the doctors-"
"No, no, I... I want every medic we have on staff to stay here," Nora interrupted; her mind was racing as she tried to figure out an answer for Ronnie. "I... we could use Dogmeat; I know he's somewhere around here- I think he was with Preston last time I saw him. We could attach a message to his collar and send him out. And once we get in contact with one settlement, we could have them call on the others using their ham radios. They shouldn't create a large enough frequency for the Institute to pick up on, and it won't create a panic either; I'll ask Preston about it while you're getting the messages written down- he knows more about radios than I do. I'm not sure how much time we have, so let's just try to hit up our closest settlements. I think our best bets are going to be Hangman's Alley, Jamaica Plains, Oberland Station, and maybe even Phyllis at the Marina Tour if I'm lucky-"
"Why don't you slow it down a notch, General, and take a breath," Ronnie interrupted. "You're fixin' to pass yourself out with all that talking. I'll write your little message out, and make another call to arms. Why don't you go talk to that Lieutenant of yours and get off your feet for a bit? He's bound to be asking where you are anyways."
...
Right.
She really could go for talking to Preston right now.
Actually, it was a little odd that he wasn't with her already. He normally always found her first if they ever got separated during a battle; often times she wasn't even fully aware that they had gotten separated before he found her again. But this time, he never showed up for her. And she just figured that... after her own personal breakdown, he would've just... somehow known where to find her. Where to comfort her.
Nora marked it up as him being focused on the wounded though; she had caught glimpses of him helping them into the Castle, and even helping the medics when he could. Which was just like him, always helping other people.
Still...
"Do you know where he is?" Nora questioned.
"Not specifically, but I'm sure he's around here somewhere," Ronnie answered. "Couldn't have gotten too far with that hole in his chest."
...
Nora felt her entire body clench up at the words, and she guessed the expression on her face said it all, considering that even Ronnie looked at her with the smallest hint of surprise.
"You didn't know?"
"Know what? What happened?" Nora pressed- desperately trying to keep her voice low to keep it from waking up any of the sleeping patients nearby.
Ronnie took a few more puffs of her cigarette before she snuffed it out on the stone wall nearby. "He's fine- well, he's alive, which is the important part. He caught a nasty shot from a Courser when the two went head-to-head. Damn thing teleported out of nowhere while we were trying to get some of the wounded moved inside. He barely managed to down the thing before it could actually get in, but he took a hit to the chest for his effort. I guess it wasn't bothering him as badly as it looked, considering he's been getting people moved around, but... wouldn't be damned surprised if it finally knocked him out. That boy should really learn his limits."
"He- what?" Nora sputtered; the words not quite forming as they came out of her.
When she saw Preston before, with all the blood on his jacket... she had assumed it was someone else's.
She had hoped that it was anyone's but his.
"Go on then," Ronnie urged, "I got letters to write, and you got questions to ask."
Nora left the woman behind her as she immediately began searching the Castle- fighting the urge to run in the narrow corridors. As desperate as she was to find Preston, she sure as hell wasn't going to disturb any of the slumbering wounded. Especially considering that they were only asleep because of the drugs in their systems; it was the only way to sleep after the hell they had just gone through.
She went room to room- using her search to also check up on the wounded and the medics, who occasionally had to be stepped over in order to pass.
It felt like her heart got quicker every time she passed a room and didn't see him in it.
...
It was only when she reached the General's Quarters did she realize she had wasted her time looking for him elsewhere.
Nora quietly pushed the bullet-riddled door aside and stepped in- giving off a quiet sigh of relief as she spotted Preston passed out on the couch at the back of the room. It wasn't exactly Ronnie-approved decor, but it was in fairly good shape and mostly intact- not to mention it was in the one of the abandoned buildings just outside of the Castle; it was hard to say no to.
She had to bite back a quiet laugh as she noticed Dogmeat sleeping on the couch with him- well, laying mostly on top of him. It was a given, if Dogmeat wasn't with her, then he was stuck to Preston; sometimes it was just until she came back, and other times, she couldn't get the damn canine to even look at her.
And despite there being plenty of beds still, she figured he must've gotten patched up and decided to lie down in here instead; more than likely, he figured he wouldn't stay down for long- although that thought obviously didn't last.
As for Dogmeat... well, whenever someone, anyone really, was on the couch, he was there too. So Preston must've lied down first to get his bearings, and didn't have the heart to turn Dogmeat away; he never did.
Quietly walking into the room, Nora took note that Preston's duster, vest and scarf had been piled onto the desk nearby- all three articles were stained with blood. It left a churning feeling in her stomach at the sight, and made the next few steps a little heavier to take. He was still dressed in a white undershirt, which had the front portion of it pulled open- revealing the bandages that had been padded heavily against his injury. There were some bloodstains on the bandages themselves, which she tried not to worry about since the stains were small.
But... judging from the blood spots alone, the wound was bigger that what she had thought- bigger than what she had been hoping for.
Coursers aimed to kill.
But the fact that he was still alive and breathing meant that the shot hadn't been fatal.
Which was good enough news on its own.
...
Dogmeat didn't even perk up as Nora approached the two of them; more than likely, he recognized her footsteps and didn't bother to lift his head at them. Again, sometimes he liked to ignore her from time to time, all in good sport.
Nora watched the slow, and steady way Preston breathed as he slept, at least taking in the comfort that he didn't seem to be in any pain. She had to bite back another snort though upon noticing that, despite injury and all, he still kept his hat, and had angled it down slightly over his face. It was a habit of his whenever he slept- one she teased him about, and one he continued to do despite her teasing.
... He would be out for the rest of the night no doubt- especially considering that he hadn't woken up at her footsteps either. And she couldn't blame him.
Still... if there was one person she wanted to talk to more than anything right now, it was him.
Preston was always good at listening, always good at offering advice for what he knew... even if it didn't have much to do with the situation. She just... she wanted him to tell her that things would be okay, and that she had made the right choice. She knew that she did, it was the only right choice available, but hearing him agree with her would help.
As desperate as she might've felt though, she didn't have the heart to wake him- that would be too greedy of her.
She didn't have the heart to wake Dogmeat either, although Ronnie would be looking for him in due time.
So, instead, Nora slipped the heavy General's coat off from her shoulders, and caught it as it tumbled down her slender arms. Spreading it out, she gently draped the coat over the two of them, making sure it covered Preston's shoulders, while still giving Dogmeat room to breathe- making sure it would keep the two of them warm for the night.
Just as Preston had done for her plenty of times before.
...
Tomorrow would be an even longer day for them.
A longer day for the Minutemen of the Commonwealth.