When the movie ends, we help Preston clean up the projector. Before long, MacCready and I are heading back to my home, talking about the film.
MacCready loved it, rambling on about how cool it was, asking if it was based on true events. If that was what life was like pre-war as we walk through the front door.
I giggle, "Not exactly, no," I say, closing the door.
MacCready shrugs, "Damn. Still. I'm glad we got to do that."
"Definitely helped with morale," I say. "It was nice seeing everyone enjoying themselves for a change."
"Maybe we should do movie nights more often," he says walking towards me.
"Maybe we should," I grin.
RJ smiles, putting a hand on my hip. I closed the gap, pressing my lips to his. And then I was kissing him like I never had before, and he was kissing me back. Everything else seems to disappear. My hands wrap around his neck, pulling him closer to me—
Nearly as quickly as we begin, we stop. Out from the hallway, there's a noised beep! and we jump apart.
"Mum!" Codsworth says pointedly. "Oh! Excuse me, I was just coming in to see how the movie was."
It felt as if my face caught on fire, humiliation sears through me. There was a strained silence. "It was fine, Codsworth," I murmur.
Codsworth skips a beat. "...Right-o!" He says, "I will just… clean the bathroom," and without another word, the robot hovers out of the hallway, and into the bathroom, away from the two of us.
I look over at MacCready, wanting to say something, though I hardly knew what. I would never live that down. It wasn't so much of the fact that I was caught with him, that's not what embarrassed me. It was that Codsworth has seen me with Nate, too.
RJ rubs his face, chuckling slightly. "So. Your robot is smooth."
I sigh, setting my hands on my hips. "He means well," I murmur. "I'm sorry."
We exchange glances, then we look away from each other.
RJ says, "we should probably get some sleep while we can. Newborns don't exactly let you sleep in, you know."
I nod, rubbing my hands together. He heads over to the couch, getting ready to lay down. Until I stupidly blab out, "The couch is pretty uncomfortable to sleep on. You can stay in my room if you want."
I swear I could hear Codsworth beeping some form of judgment from the bathroom. The house has thin walls. "Not that I—I mean… just if you'd like."
MacCready smirks, "I'd like to," he simply says, following me down the hallway.
Inside of the room, we stop to take off our shoes. Nothing else, just shoes. I crawl into the bed, RJ following. When we're both under the covers, without a word, he lifts his arm so I can tuck myself in the curve of his arm, and I do. His cheek is pressed to my hair.
We drift together, my heart is still racing, but as it slows, it slows in pace with his. I trace the outline of his collarbone, his shoulder with my index finger lazily, my body calming down, settling in. Relaxing.
The house is silent. Only a few sounds disturb it. The wind, cricket chirps. For a while, there's a short patter of rain on the roof.
"I know we don't talk about it," he murmurs after a while when I thought for sure he was asleep. "But what's your plan for all this?"
I tense up, "what do you mean?"
"I mean, at the end of all of it," he says. "With the Institute. What are you going to do?"
A pause. "I don't know," I tell him honestly. "I used to think I did. But I don't know anymore."
His arm tightens around me, I clutch a fistful of his shirt, rubbing at the fabric. "MacCready," I begin. "I think I really messed up yesterday."
"What are you talking about?" he asks, "with the settlers?"
I shake my head. "Not that. I mean—yes, but... something happened at the Institute."
He gives me a look, furrowing his brow. I want to explain it all. Because when something happens, he's the person I want to tell.
I bury my face in his shirt, exhaling. I start by telling him about the synth child, how close I've gotten to him. Then eventually how he called me 'mom' in front of all of the SRB, and more importantly, Shaun.
"I don't even remember correcting him," I groan. "Shaun looked so upset."
MacCready stills. "Wait—lemme get this straight," he says. "Shaun made a ten-year-old version of himself? Why?"
"He said he was testing 'emotional stimuli'."
"What—so he couldn't have just made the kid watch a sad movie?"
I shoot up, "I know! I know, it's so stupid… And here I am, getting attached and it's all a mess."
I bury my face in my knees, "Before yesterday… I really thought maybe I'd just cut it out and work with Shaun. I didn't want to care about everything else. I had spent enough time searching for him, worrying about him. I just wanted him back."
MacCready sits up too. I hug my arms around my knees, twisting my wedding ring. "And a part of me still wants that. But after everything with Sunshine Tidings…That wasn't—" I take a moment to think of how I want to phrase it. "That became about so much more than an attack on a settlement. That was about the Institute being this force of evil, of fear."
I shake my head and turn to look at MacCready. "Is it wrong to hurt my own son's legacy, the last member of my family, on the slim chance I could figure out how to stop them?"
MacCready says it like it's the easiest thing in the world to understand: "They're frigging crazy, Clarke. What's more, you know it."
I bite the inside of my cheek, rubbing my arms, not saying anything. So MacCready goes on:
"Hell, you're the one who called Shaun 'gone'. You remember that? Right after you came back from the Institute. You said he was 'so far gone'."
I remember. After a few moments, I break the silence; "no part of this will be easy."
MacCready wraps an arm around me, and I fall into him. I press my cheek on his chest, his chin falls on top of my head. "It's gonna be alright," he tells me.
"How do you know?" I mutter defeatedly.
"Because as long as we stick together, I can keep it that way."
I shift my head up to look at him, a tugging feeling in my heart.
MacCready smiles at me and lays back down. I follow, and then we're wrapped up in each other's arm, our legs tangled together under the covers, listening to the wind blowing and the cricket's chirp. Sleep approaches.
"It's not your fault," RJ says after a while. "With that happened with Shaun, how he turned out. I know sometimes you think, maybe if you did something different—maybe if you had fought a little harder… It'd all be different. But in the moment, when the crap hits the fan, there's not a lot you can do. You just get dealt a bad hand."
I want to ask him if that's what happened to him, but when I turn my head to look at him, I already know the answer. I reach up to his cheek, turn his head. I kiss him gently, and he kisses me right back. Minute after minute, we kiss.
I pull away, looking at him, my hand pressed to his cheek. "Sometimes you're dealt a good hand, too," I whisper.
He uses a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, staring at me, he says, "Maybe. Maybe not."
"What are you talking about?"
RJ shakes his head. "Do you ever wonder about if you never had to deal with any of this?" he says, gesturing to the room. "What would have happened if you never stepped into the Vault?"
I must think about that every day since I woke up here. An exhausted griped part of me can't help but think it with every new trial that comes along. But as I look at MacCready right then, I can't feel anything but an unexplainable gratitude.
I shake my head, "and never have met you?" I ask. "Never."
