Just a little angsty drabble of my Sole Survivor, Noa, and MacCready. Yep. I chose the annoying little shit that a lot of people seem to hate! Meh, I didn't play FO3 so I don't know what he was like, but what I do know is that he's grown up in FO4 and adorable as fuck. But what gets overlooked I think is his own personal tragedies. Anyway, some angsty, late night feels. May or may not add on to this so we'll see. Oh and spoilers for those who haven't been through MacCready's story yet.
When MacCready awoke he stretched to wrap his arms around the warm body that should've been lying next to him. She wasn't there and he rubbed his eyes, a yawn escaping him. The darkness was still surrounding him, soft streaks of moonlight filtered through the slit in the curtain over the window. He sat up and grabbed his pants from the floor, slipping them on and shivered from the cold that touched his skin.
The acid rain was bad enough, but when it was cold, it was bone chilling these days and he rubbed his arms as he slid his hand between the gap in the door to open it. He froze when he saw her figure sitting in the chair that still sat in Shaun's room. She was softly clutching the blanket around her form and her eyes were listless as they stared at the crib.
His heart ached for her. If there was anyone who knew what she was going through he felt he was pretty close. They both had to watch their spouses die, something he knew neither of them would truly get over, but he didn't know what it was like to have his son taken from him. Aside from him almost being taken by a disease he had felt he was powerless to cure him from, he didn't know what she was going through.
He felt guilty that he'd shared his problems with her. He knew that she'd do whatever she could to help him. She was selfless, he'd learned quickly, and he was selfish enough to take advantage of that and let her help him.
But he was desperate, and he truly came to care for her. He never thought he'd fall in love again, let alone with some vault dweller who was nearly two hundred years older than him. But, god, was she incredible. She had her faults, sure, but the quiet compassion she had far outweighed her somewhat unemotional nature. She was a quiet force, one that seemed to overpower him, and he couldn't care less that she did. He will walk to the ends of this earth for her; he'd decided that long ago at this point. He could never pay her back for helping him save Duncan. Now he was determined to reunite her with Shaun, before he reunited with his own son. He owed that, and so much more, to her.
But he didn't know what he could do to help her in this hollow and dark moment. She looked so lost and broken, like hope was slowly slipping from her fingertips. He wished he could instill the same kind of hope she had for gathering the cure, but he knew her well enough by now that her desolate nature would not allow much room for hope. He was about to take a step when he noticed something on the windowsill beside her. The toy soldier he'd given her. She'd placed it in Shaun's room. He knew he had to do whatever he could to save her from this moment.
He stepped closer, feet quietly padding across the floor as he knelt in front of her. She hadn't looked at him yet; he noticed one hand was holding the blanket together up at her chest while the other was softly picking at the hem near her knees.
"Noa," he breathed, cupping her hand between his palms. Her fingers were freezing, her digits so cold they were numb. He rubbed his palms over her shaking limbs and brought her fingers to his lips as he covered them in his breath. Warmth began to return to them and he felt her icy grey hues upon him. He looked up to meet her gaze and warmth seemed to be returning to her features. Slowly she slid into his arms as he sat back on the floor, her nose brushing over his own cold shoulder, smelling the stale soap upon his skin as she breathed him in.
Her face settled into the crook of his neck, lips briefly pressing to his collar bone. She wrapped her arms around his shoulder to cover his bare torso with her blanket and he snaked his arms around her back. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, but his mind hadn't even wandered to sexual thoughts as she pressed her flesh against his. He could feel the soft beat of her heart against his chest as he rubbed her back.
He laid back against the rug on the floor as she curled up next to him, softly sighing, and he thought this was what bliss must feel like.
"Nate built the crib," She said softly and his breath hitched a beat in his throat as his body stilled. She hadn't talked about Nate at all aside from his death, and that was only when she thought it'd be important to helping her find Shaun. He waited, listening; if she needed to talk about him he'd let her just as she had allowed him to reminisce about Lucy. "I wanted to save the trouble and buy one… But he wouldn't let me."
"Sounds like he was pretty excited." He slipped his fingers into her hair as he began to slide his fingertips along her scalp. A soft sigh escaped her and silence resumed until she let a confession slip.
"Does it make me a bad person that I wasn't?"
"What?" He was confused.
"I hadn't planned on ever having a kid," She spoke softly. "It wasn't until after I had him that I knew I loved him. I wouldn't let anyone hurt him. He was mine."
"Is. He is yours. We'll get him back." He assured her, "I will be with you every step of the way. No matter what."
"Thank you…" She was quiet again, her palm sliding softly up his chest before resting upon his heart which was beating a little faster. When she'd first waltzed into his life calling the shots, he didn't know what to think of her. He needed the caps and she needed a hired gun. She had a way of saying so much in so few words and he couldn't help but agree. She'd even swindled him down fifty caps from his original asking price, something he never did. He never imagined he'd come to care about her the way he did. When he found out her story he was amazed, albeit a little skeptical. It seemed far too incredulous that she was alive before the bombs dropped. Before the war.
On one hand he wanted to know what that world was like. On the other, he didn't want to pine for something that could never be attainable in this world.
"He sure built a hell of a crib, Noa," He said. "it's survived this long. He must've been something special."
"Thank you," Her words were soft, hollow, but she placed her hand at his jaw to tilt his head down as she pressed her lips to his. "Two sides of the same coin," She said quietly and her breathing became more shallow as she settled her head onto his shoulder; sleep finally finding her for probably the first time tonight. He'd be sore as hell in the morning, but right now… He really didn't care.