Earning Trust
Our departure from Sanctuary late the next morning was the start of several weeks of constant movement. We initially returned to Cambridge with Paladin Danse aboard a vertibird, but soon left to traverse the Commonwealth's northern borders, aiding settlements in the name of the Minutemen, and bringing them into the growing network. On assignment for the Brotherhood of Steel, we cleared out a couple of buildings infested with feral Ghouls in order to locate technological artifacts for the Scribes.
As part of our arrangement with Paladin Danse, Knight Rhys tasked us with hunting down a nest of Super Mutants located in a hospital not far from the Brotherhood outpost, a mission I was certain he thought was probably too difficult for our abilities. MacCready had ground his teeth audibly when the scant details were given to us and he nearly punched the cocky (pot, meet kettle) Knight in the face. It took all of the rapport we had developed between us for me to calm Mac down. Once I had pointed out that the best way to annoy Rhys was to complete the mission despite the overwhelming odds, MacCready practically dragged me off into the frigid Commonwealth to clear out the target in record time.
Super Mutants were tough in small numbers, and we were extremely hard pressed to take out an entire entrenched contingent inside a fortified building, especially when they were supported by robotic machine gun turrets. The only good thing about this assignment was that we were in a hospital, able to stock up on stimpaks, Med-X, and bandages. The scattered caches of healing drugs were the only things that kept us alive as we cleared the building floor by floor. Neither of us remained unscathed by the time we had finished dispatching the last Super Mutant. I was sporting a hastily wrapped leg and some deep wounds on my back from a lucky strike with a nail-studded board. Had MacCready not been right there with a stimpak, I doubt I would have survived. My companion was no better off, his left wrist was unusable, probably fractured, and I had had to wrap his abdomen after a particularly difficult firefight which left him with a few new bullet wounds.
"I'm gonna kill Rhys, I swear," MacCready growled as we carefully limped our way back to the Cambridge outpost. "He just so happened to forget to mention the turrets those green lunatics had set up."
"Not if I get to him first," I snarled in accord with his mood. "I can understand assigning us a difficult mission to test our skills, but that was intentionally setting us up for failure. Civilians or not, we deserve to know the full picture when we perform missions for the Brotherhood." And it makes it that much harder for me to get home. What an asshole.
Indeed, when we returned to the outpost to report our success, we made sure to fully debrief Knight Rhys and Paladin Danse in a private meeting. Rhys stood stiffly at attention, his whole demeanor one of unpleasantly shocked surprise that we had not only returned, but had been successful. Danse listened gravely to our report, pleased we had liberated the hospital from the Super Mutants, but distressed at our battered condition. We were dismissed to Scribe Haylen's healing ministrations, while Rhys was ordered to stay.
By the time we were ready to depart, accepting another mission from Knight Rhys, his attitude was initially just as obnoxious, but definitely subdued and restrained. The report he gave us was much more detailed than the last one had been, and I received it solemnly. As long as he acts like a professional and gives us the proper information, I don't care what his private opinion is. MacCready, taking his cue from me, adopted a cool, detached demeanor very similar to the one he showed me when we first met. We took a couple of different mission briefs with us when we left Cambridge, with the understanding that we would complete them if and when we were able.
-0-
The days and weeks started to blend in to one another as we traversed across the Wasteland. Most of the Minutemen settlements we visited only needed minor help compared to the Brotherhood missions. Tracking down resources was usually not a dangerous endeavor, though MacCready complained indignantly about being used as a pack mule. Once or twice, we were asked to stay a day or two to help defend the proposed settlement against raiders or feral Ghouls. Since the weather remained quite cold, I didn't mind sleeping in a cot by the fire. No one batted an eye when MacCready joined me. Beds were scarce in most settlements, and it only made sense to cuddle close to share warmth during the bitterly cold nights. Those evenings were like a soothing balm against the constant drive to keep moving, earn the trust of the various factions, try to find any trace of the Institute, get back home.
Whenever we assisted a settlement, I made sure to emphasize MacCready's fighting prowess in order to further boost his reputation with the provisioners and farmers. Once I go home he'll have his pick of choice jobs, and people will pay handsomely for his services. He'll be set for life if he wants it. That thought initially brought a smile to my face, but I soon felt the twinge of conflicting emotions. Despite his constant griping, which seemed to me almost good-natured by now, and more out of habit than any real irritation, MacCready was excellent company. We were getting to know each other on an almost instinctive level, strengthening our relationship as a team, both in and out of combat. And any time we had the least little bit of privacy, we took the opportunity to express our physical attraction in a most satisfying manner. My desperate homesickness threatened to overwhelm me at times, and yet it warred with the growing love I felt for my partner. My emotions were starting to twist me up inside, the two strong desires at complete odds with one another.
I want to go home so badly, to a world not irradiated and soaked in blood.
I miss my family, my friends.
But I love RJ.
No. I can't.
I don't belong here.
I have to get home.
Ruthlessly, with every ounce of my willpower, I squashed down on my apprehension, shoving it to the very back corner of my mind. Focus restored, I was able, just barely, to continue.
-0-
Several days later during our next sweep across the upper Commonwealth, we stopped in Sanctuary to grab some provisions. Living off the land during our travels was extremely difficult in winter, and I was having major issues trying to keep fire-cooked mole-rat chunks and mutt chops down long enough to get what little nourishment they had to offer. Eating raw food like the various types of mutated crops was a possibility, but then I had to deal with the increasing level of radiation the uncooked food contained. MacCready didn't enjoy butchering and eating our kills either, but at least he could keep them down. What I wouldn't give for a nice skirt steak right now.
Since we were stopping by, I took the opportunity to speak with General Garvey about my proposed idea to ally the Minutemen with the Railroad in helping escaped Synths build a new life. He was tentatively in favor, as long as the Brotherhood of Steel were not going to interfere. I sidestepped the issue, pointing out that the Brotherhood had already agreed not to harass Minutemen settlers; they didn't need to know how long those settlers had been in residence. Garvey was less than thrilled at the subterfuge, but MacCready was all for sticking it to the faction that had nearly gotten us killed. I accepted a compromise from Garvey that he would welcome new settlers without looking too closely at their origins- a "compromise" that was pretty much his standard operating procedure already. We just needed to contact the Railroad with the good news.
"Guess we'll head back into Boston," I commented to MacCready as we settled in for the night in the last of the unclaimed beds set up as part of a communal sleeping room. Sanctuary was growing fast, and the settlers were hard pressed to keep up with the demand for housing. We were lucky there was still a place left for us to sleep. "My Pip-Boy hasn't let out a single squeak to indicate the presence of a Courser on our current route around the settlements. However, Scribe Haylen told me before we left Cambridge she had picked up some short bursts of high-level energy usage much closer to the city that were almost certainly Institute generated." I tilted my Pip-Boy to show him an outlined area by the northern border of the city where Haylen had picked up the anomalous readings. Now that we had connected a reasonable number of scattered Commonwealth settlements to the Minutemen/Brotherhood defense network, we could turn our attention back to my personal goal.
He nodded, absently tracing his fingertips along the back of my hand. "Sure, we can go check it out. I wouldn't mind stopping in Goodneighbor afterwards," he mused quietly, eyes distant. "We can stock up on ammo and see if Daisy or KL-E-0 have any new goodies they've picked up."
Aware of the others around us and keeping my voice down, I added, "And this time, if Hancock has one of his little 'parties', I'll be prepared..." giving a quietly amused snort and a wicked grin. "Maybe we can even give him something to get jealous about." I subtly ran gentle fingers down MacCready's torso to emphasize my point.
He growled softly, grabbing my fingers to give my palm a quick nuzzle before repositioning it in a more innocent spot on his shoulder. "No way, angel," he chuckled possessively, placing a kiss on my forehead. "You're all mine. Hancock will just have to use his imagination."
-0-
The area Haylen had marked out looked like an old college campus. It wasn't until we had gotten close enough for me to read the faded engraving on the scattered granite blocks tumbled around the ruins that I pieced it together. "M.I.T." I said, wonderingly. I suppose that would make sense as a desirable target for developers of high technology. At MacCready's inquisitive look, I would have explained, but just then my Pip-Boy pinged quietly.
"Hey, we got one!" I hissed excitedly, cradling my shotgun to flick over to the RADIO tab.
"A Courser?" Instantly, my partner was all mercenary again, lifting his sniper rifle to a ready position. "Let's get moving, boss."
The pings acted like radar, growing in strength and frequency the closer we got to our target. Unfortunately, not only was our target moving erratically, but the area was littered with the remnants of an entire large university's worth of destroyed buildings. We had to keep backtracking and finding ways around large piles of rubble, all while attempting to stay hidden. We also had to make sure we weren't walking into any raiders or Super Mutants, both of whom we spotted while making our way to the initial site. At one point, we managed to locate a relatively clear path down the street leading straight towards our still unseen quarry. But when we got near the intersection at the end of the street, a sudden bright flash took us by surprise, temporarily blinding both of us, and causing my Pip-Boy to squeal in reaction.
Blinking furiously to clear my vision, I simultaneously heard my partner shout in surprise and pain and the sudden silence of my Pip-Boy's locator. Before I could turn to find MacCready, I was hit in the leg with a metal baton carrying the extra wallop of a taser shock. The voltage burned along the hidden cathodes in my body, paralyzing my muscles for an agonizing moment. I fell heavily on my side, unable to do more than take in the abrupt appearance of the three Gen-1 synths between me and my partner. They weren't here a moment ago, MacCready would have spotted them!
MacCready was down on one knee, his sniper rifle on the street as he fired rapidly into one of the two Synths next to him with his 10mm pistol. His left hand was grappling the sparking baton the Synth was attempting to wield, trying to fend off its blows. The second Synth had stepped back to aim a laser rifle at the otherwise occupied sniper.
"No!" I screamed weakly, forcing my V.A.T.S. system to engage. Even half-paralyzed and on my side, the electronic assistance was more than enough, eventually, to cripple, then kill the second Synth with my combat shotgun while MacCready dispatched the first. The Synth who had attacked me froze for a moment as soon as my Pip-Boy's programming kicked in. Dropping its own shock baton, it roughly grabbed me under my armpits to drag me rapidly backwards, emitting a strange series of mechanical noises as it did so. I tried to bash at it with my shotgun, but the angle was wrong and I was gasping from pain and the exertion of invoking V.A.T.S. Dropping the pistol, MacCready recovered his rifle, making his usual clean head shot to stop my abductor in its tracks.
I struggled free of the dead Synth just as MacCready reached me, helping me to my feet. "Well," I said lightly, trying to keep my adrenaline in check, "looks like we found 'em." Leaning into my partner's support, I tilted the screen to see better, examining my Pip-Boy. Letting out a disgruntled noise, I showed him the silent RADIO screen. "And lost the Courser. Damn."
"What was that flash?" he asked, scanning the immediate area for additional threats. As soon as my legs were steady enough to stand on my own, he let go to retrieve his pistol, holstering it.
"I don't know, but it felt... familiar, somehow. It also made my Pip-Boy freak out." Tapping the device, I reassured myself that it had taken no harm from the encounter, the screens all appearing to work properly. "I never heard it make that sound before. And I'm certain those Synths weren't there before, either." I straightened my glasses, giving them a quick cleansing wipe.
"They weren't," MacCready confirmed. He picked over the three bodies, stowing the loot we could carry in our packs. "They just... appeared."
"Yes." a new voice, a hesitant light tenor, called out from behind a nearby pile of bricks. "They can do that."
We whirled to face the speaker, guns raised.
A man slowly stepped out into view, hands raised in surrender. He was a little taller than MacCready, of completely average build, with a pale complexion and short brown hair. He was wearing a very unusual white and gray jumpsuit with red sleeves. A small logo of a humanoid figure with limbs extended was embroidered on the left breast of the suit. "Hello," he said, nervously, keeping his hands up. "Would you happen to know the way to Bunker Hill?"
