Fiction: Fallout 4
Summary: Ash joins Haylen and Rhys on a mission.
Category: Chapter 21
Disclaimer: I do not lay claim to any of the following work. While the writings themselves are my own, my character is created fully by myself, the other characters and story elements I do not own. I also do not own any of the Fallout 4 elements that are in play. Full credit goes to where it is due. Thank you. Thanks to Bethesda
A/N – I want to start off by apologizing for not updating sooner than this. A few personal things have come up that have rendered me unable to write as I had planned. My sister had another baby so I watched my one year old niece, Zoey, for a week, then I went to the emergency room the following week with a kidney stone and was out for the count, and then I started orientation for my new RN job (thanks to the nonnie who also got their license!). Then I got food poisoning… my computer decided to delete my previous THREE versions of this chapter… and I fought tooth and nail to finally chug this one out. It's been one HELL of a busy month. Like, fuck, guys. Wow. But, here we go. Apologies for the wait!
The last chapter was a bit on the emotionally heavy side so I opted to keep this chapter pretty mellow… somewhat… see first few pages and you may change your mind on that. Regardless, this is a branching chapter. Not a ton happens but it builds up to our next one where we will get some good character development.
-oOoOo-
Sunlight filtered in through the dust stained windows, warmed my skin with its golden rays as I nestled deeper into the pillow, burrowing my face and scrunching my brow. Okay, so I was never a morning person and, I guess, having the apocalypse doesn't change that.
Dogmeat whined next to me, body already wriggling, begging for me to get out of bed and start my day even as he hopped down to scurry down the stairs on the other side of the room. But all my muscles pleaded otherwise. Danse and I had spent the better part of the past week remodeling the Taffington Boathouse. We repaired the stairs and the majority of the wooden plank floorboards, the windows were in the works of getting a good clean, and the front yard was picked clean of debris. Though neither of us were great at farming the land, we managed to plant a few seeds in a tiny ass field outback along the riverbed that we hoped would result in something a few months from now.
The Elder thought I was out on recon, scouting the area for synth movements, aiding in discovering what the Institute's next attack plan was. But here I was, head buried against a plump, fluffy pillow, trying to squeeze in a few more minutes of shut eye before-
His lips pressed gingerly against my temple, his hands gently slid up my bare arms to my shoulders. The stubble of his beard made me chuckle, tucking my chin away as it scratched against the soft skin of my cheek. "I thought you were never going to wake up," Danse hummed as he took a seat next to me, causing the mattress to bow in the slightest.
"I could be persuaded," I coaxed in return, eyes opening just enough to peer up at the man from underneath my eyelashes, a smirk already playing across my lips.
"Is that so?" I could see the mischievous glint in his eyes, the way they sparkled with desire. We hadn't truly gotten much time together with all the renovations aside from a few quiet words spoken before we succumbed to complete and utter fatigue and exhaustion. Then we would be up and at it the next morning, trying to make the boathouse livable. "And how might that be?"
"Now… if I told you, I would have to kill you." Already his lips trailed down along my jaw, teeth nipped at my collar bone, grip on my shoulder tightening in a way that made my toes curl, in a good way.
"We can't have that now, can we?" he murmured against my neck, breath tickling but I didn't have the strength to laugh or swat him away. He trialed his fingertips down the length of my arm, enclosed around my wrists, and forced me to turn onto my back. I could see him so much better, could watch the sunlight beamed off his chestnut air, watch as his gaze fell over me, as his lips curled up into a smile. "You're so beautiful."
Then his mouth was on mine, devouring, consuming, heated, deep. My heart sped, my breath hitched. My fingers entwined into his hair, tangling it around my hands, nails digging against his scalp. He pushed against me, effectively pinning me to the mattress, looming over me in a way that made me shiver for all the right reasons.
But this closeness, the mere few inches that were between us… too far. Much too far.
I yanked at the hem of his shirt, a whine building behind my busied lips. We tore apart just long enough to discard the item, only to come crashing back together with a hunger I didn't know I possessed. His tongue danced across my bottom lip as my palms splayed across his chest, brain attempting to memorize every facet of him, every scar that marred his chest, every hard edge of muscle.
His hands clung to my hips, curling my body towards him as he pressed against me. A growl rippled from his throat, a low groan of annoyance. Then he too was pulling on my Vault Boy tee, fingers desperately finding their way underneath the fabric. They glided up my stomach, sent chills down my spine. I arched my back, leaning into his touch…
Only for him to break our lips, for his eyes to locate mine, a question pooling inside of them. "Ash, we don't have to-"
"But I want to."
His gaze flicked to my healing burns.
"You worry too much."
Danse hesitated, closing his eyes. "I… I just…. I don't know if I can be the man you need."
I cupped his face between my hands. "You're everything I need."
"I hope you're right. I'll try to be. I'll do whatever I can to make you happy. I'll make you coffee or whatever the hell waffles are, and I'll let you bake pies even though you don't have a neighbor to gloat about them to…" He rested his forehead to mine, my arms wrapped around him, embracing him to me, fingers skimming along his back. "I wasn't built for this… but I will do everything in my power to be the human you see."
My lips played reassuringly against his, his returning moan was all the confirmation I needed.
When his hands grazed against my stomach once more, there was no pause, no doubt, no trepidation as he brought them upwards, enclosing around my breasts. I hissed in a breath through clenched jaws, parting our hungry mouths just along enough to let him escape to my neck. His teeth nibbled at my ear, his lips left a track of kissed along the base of my throat. My heart beat out an uneven and dangerously fast rhythm, the speed of it vaguely making it concerned but his hands made me quickly forget.
His breaths were frantic against my skin, his kisses brash and maddening, my name whispered between them. My ability to think was gone and, with it, my sense of control.
How long had I wanted this?
How long had I craved this?
Too long.
I grasped his shoulders then, easily taking him by surprise, rolled us and placed myself in control. I found his mouth, molded my lips to his, his sharp inhale giving me warrant to explore, my tongue and teeth practically consuming him, tasting him. His hands no longer remained on my breasts but instead chose to caress down to my ass where they firmly planted, pushing me downwards against him. My legs rested on either side of him, straddling him as he rocked against me.
My own hands were gliding over his chest, his arms, his face, anywhere I could reach.
My lips felt raw though I had no mind to stop now…
No, my mind was gone, blissfully so.
I was only made aware of the loss of my cotton shorts when he impatiently tugged on my thighs, encouraging me to comply. Even the removal of such a miniscule barrier was enough to make each touch that much more sensational, that much more real.
But he had had enough of being the obedient one. He flipped us, forcing his knee between my thighs. When his gaze met me this time, he no longer appeared concerned or worried. No… He looked wild, half crazed, filled with pleasure and want. And he was going to get what he so desired.
I swallowed a whimper when his mouth did not return for me but stilled a groan as he instead favored to place it against the center of my chest. There he started, leading a path down towards my navel, his palms once again on my breasts, massaging them in a way that made my breathing spike and my eyes close. He slid downwards in the bed, fingertips lovingly stroking my ribs, my torso, my waist, and hips before curling around the top of my panties, thumbs smoothing over the lace. The heat of his exhales on my stomach made my heart flutter, set my skin ablaze.
My fingers knotted in his hair, my head tilted backwards against the pillows, lips parted in anticipation.
Someone knocked on the door downstairs.
Someone spoke the words, "Is anyone home?"
Someone, this time though I could pinpoint the perpetrator being Danse, cursed loudly, breath hoarse "Fuck," he hissed. "Maybe they'll go away?" A plead, a beg, a hopeless request.
"I know you're both here somewhere, don't make me find you!" Deacon. It was fucking Deacon.
I sighed bitterly and the tension, blissful as it was, leaving my body. Danse locked eyes with me for a split second but he already knew my answer. He had been effectively cock-blocked by a Railroad agent.
"I'll greet him," the Paladin muttered, amusement lost from his face as a look of annoyance replaced it. "Best get dressed… and... maybe fix your hair." He winked at me as he pulled his shirt back on and headed for the stairs.
As I clambered out of bed, heart still racing at an uncomfortable pace – one of which I was certain my late cardiologist would panic at – I made why way to the bathroom. I was flushed, cheeks rosy, eyes wide and bare. I looked… alive. More so than I had in a long time. I couldn't remember the last time I had felt so… so much like how I used to be. A carefree woman, someone who was not stressed about her son and his henchmen, or questioned the Brotherhood Elder and his less than savory intentions, or worried about just how she was going to help put the Commonwealth back together.
Someone who wasn't afraid.
Huh, I was beginning to like this new me.
I fidgeted with my tee, flattening out what I could and yanked on a pair of jeans. Raking my fingers through my short hair tamed the most unruly of curls and made me as presentable as I could get. It wasn't perfect but, at the very least, I wouldn't appear as if I was just about to… well…
As I descended down the stairs, I began to pick up pieces of conversation.
"- out in the back area, and then we want to see if we can catch any fish. Apparently Ash knows this recipe she thinks will work with them," Danse was saying as I rounded the corner.
Deacon, sun glasses equipped as per usual, beamed at me. "There you are, the woman of the hour." Today he sported a faded and tattered trench coat, a graying long sleeve shirt, a pair of worn green cargo pants, and a set of combat boots.
"Welcome, Deacon. I didn't know you were stopping by," my tone pitched with the question I didn't want to directly ask. Though he was a cherished friend, he wasn't one to make house visits.
"Desdamona was looking for you. Was wondering where you have been. I covered for ya but you know I can't do that forever." Deacon slid his hands into his pockets, casting a wary glance at Danse. "She's worried you've gone and switched sides on her."
I exhaled slowly. Sides… the tricky part of this all. When I first arrived here, I thought everyone was against the Institute and only the Institute. They were the bad guys after all, the boogieman in the shadows, blah, blah, blah. But, I learned that was only part of the truth. Everyone had their own agendas, own goals, and own outcomes they wanted for the Wastes. Sadly, they often clashed.
The Minutemen wanted peace everywhere and, while they didn't directly enforce it, they held a lot of power and sway in the hearts of the citizens. If paired with an organization that could influence them to speak, the Men would be a force to be reckoned with. Thankfully, they were too interested in helping settlers to be of any real danger.
The Brotherhood wanted to restore direction to the Commonwealth and promote humanitarian beliefs. However, this idealism held little wiggle room for other races – supermutant, synth, or otherwise. Maxson had a tight grip and a wicked temper. Though he may be trying to achieve greatness, the way he was going about it made my skin crawl.
Then there was the Railroad. They acted high and mighty, convinced they were doing good by saving synths from the Institute. But this brash and ignorant hold to their 'charity' was risky – it would be so simple for a rogue agent to get mixed up in the mess… And their complete disregard for rules and obligations made maintaining any realm of order impossible.
Finally, the Institute. They had good intentions, wanting to bring back green life and clean water… but hiding themselves away for decades while keeping all of the wonders to themselves? It sickened me. People were up here, suffering, dying. While they remained below ground with their air conditioning and hot meals.
And here I sat, stuck in the middle of it.
"There aren't sides, Deacon," I countered, rehashing a conversation we had had on several different occasions. "I know Des doesn't see it that way… My priorities have just been elsewhere."
"Like killing synths?" Was he blaming me of something?
"Only those of the Institute," I reassured, casting a quick glance to Danse who nodded.
"Not what I've heard."
"What do you mean?"
Deacon readjusted his specs. "Rumors, mostly. But I hear some Brotherhood soldiers are poking around, asking questions, getting into things they shouldn't."
Danse cut in, "The Brotherhood of Steel aren't interested in the Railroad no matter how careless the actions of your organization are."
"Easy there, man," Deacon raised a hand, a gesture of peace. "No foul play necessary here. Just saying what I've heard. Sides, I hear that you aren't really with the bigshots at the Prdy-whatever anymore given your, uh, well…" He waved a hand dismissively at Danse. "Synth-ness."
Danse gave me an accusatory glare. "How many people have you told?"
I shrugged my shoulders innocently. "Only Deacon and Preston." His shoulders relaxed in relief just as I continued, "And Piper, and Cait, and Codsworth, and Curie. And Dogmeat, but it's not like he can tell anyone. Nor will anyone else."
Danse almost groaned with irritation. "What if word gets back to the Elder?"
"It won't," Deacon assured. "Listen man, I know we don't always see eye to eye but your important to Ash. I'm not saying we gotta go and throw darts or golf or whatever, but if she trusts you, so do I. And so does everyone else. Your part of our little fucked up family. Get used to it." His attention returned to me. "What should I tell Des?"
"Tell her…" I paused, staring at the freshly mopped floorboards as if they would give me an answer. When they remained silent, I was forced to continue on my own, "Tell her I'll return to my duties shortly. I have a few things I need to tie up back at the Prdywen and then I can report back to her. I have a few propositions she may be interested in that could gain you guys a foothold or two."
"Swell. Now onto order of business number two," Deacon rubbed his hands together. "And I've made her wait long enough. Told her there was a line."
I arched a brow at him. "What?" As was typical with Deacon, he sometimes made little sense.
"Someone else is here to see you." Deacon tilted his head towards the door…
And in walked-
"Haylen!" I squealed, jogging up to my favorite Scribe and hugging her tight to me. It had only been a handful of days but I missed her. She welcomed my embrace and returned it, waving lazily at Danse.
"It's so good to see you both!" she welcomed. "Especially you, Danse. You are missed."
"Not by all," he replied somewhat bitterly.
She nodded sadly at that. "Yeah… Speaking of," she pivoted towards me, "I was really careful, like you said, and spoke to some of the recruits. Paladin Brandis and Proctor Ingram are in agreement but only after the Institute is taken down. I also reached out to a few of your contacts. So far, a man named 'Honest Dan' has replied stating he is good to go whenever we give the word, said he owed you a favor."
Danse had been clued into my scheming the day before. Though he was hesitant to go against his friend and Elder, he agreed that something had to be done. He hoped we could bring about a peaceful resolution to the Brotherhood of Steel… I did not tell him that I thought such an end would be impossible to reach. I couldn't crush him like that… not after he had just gone through so much recently.
"It's a decent start," he commended.
"Someone want to clue me in?" Deacon requested, expression confused.
"I'll tell you later," Danse countered, waving the other man with him towards the back of the house. "Haylen? I'm sure you're not just here for an update? You said you could give us a week… you coming to take her back from me?" he paused at the doorway he shooed Deacon through.
Haylen bobbed her head up and down. "Yes, sir. Apologies. Elder Maxson wants us to investigate a transmission coming from Trinity Tower by a man named Rex Goodman. He wanted Rhys and I to pick you up from your 'patrolling' and head there as soon as possible." Ah, yes, the lie we had agreed to spin for Maxson. He believed I was scouting areas for synth activity. Last I heard, Haylen, Danse, and I were the only ones who knew the truth. I had a feeling Rhys was still in the dark.
"How long will she be gone for?"
"Couple of days. I'm sure you can handle it," she grinned up at her superior, a bit of sarcasm oozing into her voice.
Danse rolled his eyes, hooking an arm around my waist before pulling me close to him. "You bring her back in one piece, soldier."
She playfully saluted, "Sir, yes, sir!"
"Be safe," he whispered into my ear, pressing a shy kiss to my temple.
"I will," I promised, squeezing his hand reassuringly before pulling myself away. Turning to Haylen I asked, "Where is Rhys?"
"Didn't want him to know we were lying so I had him wait at Bunker Hill. He's getting us supplies and stimpacks while I retrieve you. Meet you outside in five?"
"Yes, ma'am!"
-oOo-
I wouldn't admit it too loudly but… I missed being on duty. I missed trekking around, searching for usable items, and coming across abandoned buildings I had once visited 200 years ago. I missed the adrenaline rushes, the dizzying moments of combat, and the excitement of playing life as if it was a game. I missed the close calls, the sound of explosions, and the ever present gunfire.
My mother would roll in her grave if she knew what had become of her precious ballerina.
The air was bitter, the humidity making it taste of radiation and dust. The sun screamed down at us, scorching Haylen and I with its blazing red rays of fire. Within ten minutes, a layer of sweat began to form against my back where my pack rested, assault rifle swaying in its holster strap. I was thankful for my shorter hair, glad it no longer could stick to my forehead and neck, pleased it could no longer weigh me down. I guess Molotovs came in handy every once in a while.
"You know he cares for you, right?" Haylen broke through my thoughts, dragging me back to reality.
"Hmm?" I hedged, my sluggish brain not entirely comprehending what she was saying.
"Danse. I have never seen him so… happy. He's so happy, Ash. So incredibly happy. He has never smiled so much before. He looks relaxed for once." She smiled warmly over at me. "And it's thanks to you."
I blushed, shaking my head. "I didn't do anything."
"You've done everything. Including defying Maxson's orders…" Haylen visibly shook, her dirt encrusted fingers raising to rub her arms. "I never thought he could turn so cold… We were supposed to be doing wonderful things, not killing each other." Her voice darkened with each word, heavily weighed down by her grief. "What went wrong?"
"I don't know. I believe that Maxson thinks he is doing the right thing. And, to be fair, he isn't that far off. His method is just questionable."
"Questionable?" Haylen frowned. "Immoral. Unjust. Wrong. We are supposed to build people up, not tear them down. We are supposed to search for relics of our past, technology, so we can share it with the world, not covet it like it is some prize to be kept by the few. We were meant to be so much better than this…" Her head dipped down, shoulders slumped with defeat.
I couldn't imagine what she was going through. She had been with the Brotherhood of Steel for much longer than I had, and had come to cherish each and every single person in its ranks. She found her home on the Prydwen, her place with her fellow Scribes. To suddenly learn that the man leading your charge did not have the best intentions could be heart breaking, world shattering. How she even began to cope with this… I wasn't sure. Then, to top it off, she was helping to build a retaliation effort against the man she once blindly followed. She was planning to overthrow him, to remove him from power. To guess how she felt…
"I'm sorry, Haylen," I whispered.
"No… don't be sorry. If it wasn't for you, I may not have realized the obvious. Maxson's cruelty, using your son as a bargaining chip was unacceptable. Demanding you take down your trainer and best friend, inexcusable. And it's only the beginning…" She peeked up at me. "Some things have changed since you've been gone."
"Like what?" What could he have accomplished in such little time? Were there no checks and balances in place for this type of thing?
"He's doing routine bunk checks. Says he has intel that leads him to believe that there are more synths in our ranks, like Danse. If we protest, he threatens. He forced a squire to an extensive medical screening when he refused to part with one of his belongings. The boy hasn't really spoken much to anyone since."
My stomach twisted uncomfortably. What had brought Maxson to such an extent? He wasn't trusting those around him…
"I think learning that Danse was a synth hit him hard… harder than I thought," Haylen continued. "The two of them were pretty close, friends for years. Maybe he felt betrayed…"
"It doesn't justify his behavior," I quipped, glancing around us. We were nearing on Bunker Hill, the monument could be seen in the distance, peeking up over the toppled outlying buildings and playgrounds. "Reacting in such a way is childish. Danse is still loyal to the Brotherhood. If Maxson would pull his head out of his ass, maybe he could see that."
"I don't think he'll listen to reason…"
"No, neither do I."
We walked then for a time, neither of us speaking. It felt surreal, returning to the edge of Boston. Every time I walked through the rundown streets, I couldn't help but get flashbacks of the old world. Where now sat a mangled heap of metal rested, once stood a swing set, a burned down building once was owned by a mother and father, their children playing in the front yard. I could almost hear the ice cream truck, the laughter, almost smell the barbeque, a bonfire roaring in a pit.
Two centuries can change your memories… and destroy what is left of them.
As we closed in our destination, I broke our silence. "What does Rhys know?"
"Nothing. He remains loyal. I'm hoping he will change his mind."
I wasn't surprised. Rhys wasn't one to bend easily. He owed so much to the Brotherhood; the mere idea of betraying them was treasonous. I doubted his ideals were on the same level of bat shit crazy as Maxson's, but we needed him on our side. "Good to know."
"He still isn't a fan of you."
Oooo, what a shocker! Pffft, not. "Double good to know."
Bunker Hill was thriving with activity upon our arrival. Traders rested at their stalls, goods splayed out for customers to see. Caravan owners cared to their Brahmin, the large mutated cows nibbling on whatever dried out hunk of grass they could manage to find. The medical hut was busy though that was pretty normal given the proximity to the unsafe streets of downtown Boston and frequent raider attacks.
We found Rhys leaned up against one of the outer walls, more or less protected from the sun. He gave us a curt nod as we approached. "Anything to report, Paladin?" he addressed me, the title still sounding foreign to my ears.
"Nothing, Knight Rhys. Lexington is quiet, at least with Synth activity."
"Confirmed. Did Scribe Haylen speak of our next mission together?"
"Yes, she gave me some of the details on our hike here." A grin began to form on the corner of my lips. I couldn't help it, maintaining such formal speech was hilarious, especially with how seriously Rhys took it.
"Are you comfortable with the parameters set out by our Elder? Do you agree to the mission?"
I chuckled. "Yes, Rhys. Sheesh. Calm down a bit. They can't hear you from here, you can talk normal."
"In the presence of civilians, it is best maintain a proper demeanor in order to best represent the Brotherhood of Steel." Ah, then you best start threatening anyone that even glances at you funny.
"Whatever you say, Knight."
Haylen giggled next to me though a stern look from Rhys encouraged her to politely cough.
"Did you get the ammo and med supplies?" Haylen inquired once recovered.
Again with a brief nod. "They are in my pack, we can sort them out when we are away from… onlookers." He sent a wary glance towards the bulk of the settlement.
"Then should we depart?"
I couldn't imagine how this mission was going to go. Haylen and Rhys were such polar opposites from each other in almost every way though they made a formidable team back at the Cambridge Police Station. However, with Rhys despising my every move, I wasn't sure I wanted him at my back. On the other hand, Haylen wasn't the best with a gun, she was more fit for a support role than anything else meaning that Rhys would likely be forced to have my back.
Could I trust him?
Could I dare to?
"Move out!" Rhys ordered, leading the way out of Bunker Hill.
I guess I was going to find out.