Contract Mercenary

"RJ!" I paused for a moment, savoring the sight of my partner, the dark blue bathrobe accentuating his eyes. He looked tired and wan, but very much in the present, propping himself up on one elbow to address me. "Hold on," I said. Placing the sniper rifle gently back on the table, I suppose being dirty for a little longer won't hurt it too much, I snagged the covered bowl of noodle soup and sat down on the bed next to him, heart fluttering. "Here. Before you say anything, eat up."

He took the bowl with raised eyebrows and a quirk of his lips. "It's cold."

I crossed my arms and gave him a fondly stern look, twitching my own robe a little more snugly around my shoulders. "It's still good, even cold. Eat. Then you can take all the time you want to talk."

"I saw you looking at my rifle..." He trailed off, then hesitantly scooped up a portion of noodles with the provided chopsticks, pausing to look closely at me with the bite hovering just before his lips. "Wait." He stared intently, as if seeing me for the first time. "What... what happened to your hair?" His eyes were widened in surprise, brows raising higher than I had ever seen them before.

Almost unconsciously, I lifted my hand to run fingers through the curly mess. "Disguise," I sighed sadly, reaching for the drawer that held my braid, and taking it out to show him. "You're not eating," I reminded him.

He hastily slurped up a mouthful, eyeing the length of cut braided hair. "Smart, if drastic," he mumbled around his food. When I didn't reply, he shrugged and scooped up another bite, taking a long drink of the cold broth. In this manner, he polished off the meal with his usual culinary alacrity. Once he set the bowl aside, he reached for the braid, twisting it around his fingers absently. "I, uh..." was all he managed to say.

We gazed at each other.

"I guess I like it," MacCready finished lamely.

"Right then. Good to hear." Stung by his lukewarm reaction, I went to stand up and return to the couch, but he reached out a hand to stop me. I paused, my insides churning with confused emotions.

"Wait. Please?" In that moment, he looked so unsure, so wistful; a look that I only ever caught in glimpses while he slept. He licked his lips and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out at first. "I... I need to talk to you, but I don't know how to say what I have to say. Promise you'll hear me out?"

The look he gave me would have melted the heart of a stone statue, and never mind that I was already hopelessly in love with him. "Of course, RJ," I assured him around the sudden tightening of my throat. Based on how you've been acting lately, I don't know if you're about to rip out my soul or not, but I'll listen.

"Thanks, angel."

Angel? My chest fluttered at the endearment. He was awake and lucid, and he called me "angel." Maybe...?

When he reached out to hold my hand, I let out the breath I didn't even realize I had been holding. "All right, I'm just going to go for it," he began.

"I don't break my contracts." He paused for a long moment after that statement, eyes distant and scanning the room, as if searching for what to say. The hand holding mine was still, and I gave it a slight squeeze to encourage him to continue, a little befuddled as to where he was going.

"My reputation as a mercenary hangs on my trustworthiness to complete contracts. It's one of the reasons I'm the best gun in the Commonwealth. I'm expensive, and rightly so," he preened, "but once paid, the job's as good as done."

Then he sighed, slumping his shoulders a little. "Until I met you."

I blinked in confusion, holding my tongue, and waited for him to continue.

"I mean, Hancock hired me to be your bodyguard escort home. 'Easy job,' I thought, even when he admitted he didn't know where you came from. Using that tidbit, I managed to squeeze him for one heck of a contract fee." The little satisfied smile briefly echoed the mischievous boy he must have been growing up.

"Wait," I finally interjected. "How far back do you remember?" I remember meeting you, of course. You made one hell of an impression. But I was just a job to you, wasn't I?

"I remember you from that first night." This time his slight smile was fondly reminiscent.

"The night in the Rexford?"

"No, that very first night you were crashed out on Hancock's couch. I don't think you even knew we were there. He had brought me up to his office to discuss hiring me to protect you. I thought you looked kinda cute lying there, but annoyed you were mixed up with that drug-addled Ghoul, probably playing me for a fool." At this, his lips twisted in a frown, thick brows furrowed at the memory.

"Once I realized you were real, and telling the truth, I didn't know what to think, honestly. You were kind, and sensitive, scared out of your mind... and I was the one who had to introduce you to the brutal reality of this place. I had to watch you fall apart and pull yourself back together to keep going. And when you insisted on wrapping my leg that first trip out... I think I fell in love with you just a little bit right then and there. You really cared. You wanted to help me... me, the bitter mercenary, the obnoxious punk making things harder for you. You actually worried about me. No one's ever really cared that much about me before. It scared me, a little. You listened to me, asked for my advice, and from the start treated me more like a partner than an expendable hired gun."

He squeezed his eyes closed, pressing his lips together. "Damn, I'm tired."

"Do you want to go back to sleep?" I asked, concerned. "This can wait until morning."

"No." he protested, fixing me with an intense look. "I... I need y- to tell you. Please?"

"All right, RJ."

He squeezed my hand gratefully. "I felt like I finally had someone I could depend on. It felt... good. Really good. Running together seemed so natural, so right, and it was the best feeling in the world watching you grow and adapt to life in the Commonwealth. With you at my side, I feel like I can take on the world! Together, we're practically unstoppable. Raiders, ferals, even Super Mutants? They don't stand a chance!

"You've made me a better man, you know. Just following your example helped me keep my promise to Duncan, in ways I would have never been able to do on my own. Hell, you've even managed to get me to stop smoking with that dumb allergy of yours, and since then I've been feeling better, breathing better. ...I bet that's probably one of the reasons I didn't die out there yesterday," he concluded suddenly. He shook his head, running his free hand through his hair.

"It wasn't until we were on the Prydwen, asking the Brotherhood for help powering up your Pip-Boy that it finally hit me. I had been taking things one day at a time, enjoying our partnership, but the realization of where that was leading...? It almost knocked the breath out of me. I was hired to help you go home, to go back to your own reality...to leave me, leave the Commonwealth forever. And for the first time in my life, I wanted to break my contract. "

"Is that so bad?" I asked, gently.

He jerked his head up, blue eyes wide with indignation. "It's professional suicide! Especially with someone as powerful and influential as Hancock. But watching you, helping you find a way to return to your own world? To leave forever? I felt like I was helping to cut off my own arm. It was tearing me up inside. I didn't know how to feel, and it hurt just thinking about it. It's the reason I was acting like... well, like such an ass to you. I'm sorry."

"Well, that explains your behavior in Sanctuary." I mused, my thoughts turning inward. Poor MacCready. It's a lot to deal with. Even as mature as he is, he's still so emotionally young sometimes. "It's okay, love. Though why didn't you talk to me? We're still partners, you know."

He was silent for a long moment, thinking hard. "I was tensing up, I guess. Trying to make you the bad guy, make you leave...I don't know." He sighed. "I guess I was just waiting for you to plant a knife in my back like everyone else." When I would have protested, he stopped me with a shake of his head. "But you didn't. You saved my life instead." He gestured weakly around the room. "You carried me to safety. You cut your hair to disguise yourself in order to help me get better. And don't think for one second I don't know what that means to you. You stayed with me, even when I was pushing you away."

A flash of memory crossed my mind; the sound of MacCready's delirious, heartbroken words, "please don't leave me." I think that may have been a deeper plea than I realized.

He grimaced, conflicted feelings rushing up in a torrent of words. "I'm in love with you, dammit!" he cried, reaching up to caress my cheek. A single tear traced down his face, losing itself in the raspy stubble of his jawline.

"I love you too, RJ," I murmured, nuzzling the palm held against my face. His fingers were trembling slightly.

"I don't know what to do! I love you and I'm under contract to help you, the one person in the world I can trust, the woman I love, leave forever. And that's not the whole of it. Even if my reputation as a hired gun could survive breaking my contract with Hancock, how could I live with the fact that I'm just as bad as the Institute by keeping you here against your will?"

"It's that so-called 'Father' and the Institute who took me away from my world, not you."

"But if I don't help you get home, it's the same as keeping you prisoner," he argued, brows creasing in a familiar angry mien, "...away from your family."

"Mac," I reasoned, "You have been helping me try to get home-"

"Even when I don't want to," he interjected tiredly, eyes closing, laying back down on the bed. He was starting to lose his fight against exhaustion and pain, his words growing less thought out, and yet more truthful.

"Even when you don't want to," I repeated with a light chuckle, caressing the back of his hand with my thumb. "I think we both know that my getting home at this point is pretty unlikely..." Despite my own attempt at intellectual reasoning, my voice trailed off in sorrow before I could finish. ...but not impossible. "It's just so much power." And I'm so tired.

He shook his head weakly. "I... I don't know anymore. I don't know if I'm strong enough to do this... I need you, and you're going to leave me. Do you really want to go back to a life alone?" That question, quietly mumbled yet spoken from the heart, chilled my blood.

Do I really want to go back to living alone?

His voice grew fainter, and I had to lean in to hear him. "I know you asked me not to remind you, but I saw your memories... And a lot of what I saw in there was you being lonely. Even your most recent memories showed us that you lived by yourself. You say you love your family, but live so very far away from them."

"That's true. We live our separate lives. Sure, we stay in touch, but for the most part..." I shrugged, forgetting he couldn't see the gesture with his eyes closed.

"Let me ask you this..." The question was almost inaudible, a ragged breath mumbling the last few words stripped of pride, spoken as he slipped away into healing slumber. "Does anyone there need you as much as I do?"

In the stillness of the room, the muttered question shook me to my core. He needs me. He loves me and he needs me and I'm breaking his heart every time I talk about going home. He thinks of me as practically his family, and family is the most important thing in the world to him. He lost his family once already...

Lying in the bed, he looked completely vulnerable, as if that final, semi-conscious plea had finally taken down the last of the emotional walls between us. I reached out to brush my fingers across his forehead, feeling the heat of another fever starting to grip his body as he tossed restlessly.

I can't leave him like this.

He's still sick, and I'll bet the full contents of both our packs that this poisoning will probably take a long time to fully get his strength back. Until he's back in fighting shape, it would be worse than cruel to just up and leave him... not like I would. He may have been hired as my bodyguard, but we passed that point a long time ago. He's as much my responsibility as I'm his, and I'm going to take care of him. He needs me. I need him, too.

And I have my own decisions to make.

I sat back down on the couch, mechanically reaching for MacCready's sniper rifle, beginning the methodical process of cleaning it. The finicky tedium of cleaning and oiling allowed my brain to wander, deep in thought. I thought about the Commonwealth, all the people I've met along our journey. I thought about everything I'd learned about how I got here; the process, the immense power required, the sinister unspoken reasons behind it. I let my mind drift, turning and floating from topic to topic. Inevitably, my thoughts returned to dwell on the man twitching restlessly across the room from me.

I can't leave him.

I'm in love. He's smart and funny and protective, tender and passionate, and as touch-starved as I am. He completes me in a way I never thought possible. With him, I'm able to be brave. He inspires my courage. I can stand up for what's right. With him, I can be successful out here. Without him...? I couldn't bear thinking about it.

My fingers traced over the carved letters of the hand guard. This tells me, more strongly than anything else, how he feels. How can I break his heart, and mine, by leaving?

Reassembling the sniper rifle with a final satisfying click, I wished my scattered thoughts could be so neatly put together. Everything is so much simpler and yet so much more complicated out here. But I can survive, even thrive, out here, if I just make up my mind to do so. It's a lesson I had nearly forgotten in my drive to get home. I'm here now, and I may as well make the best of it.

I looked over to the bed where MacCready tossed and turned in his sleep. As gently as I could, I crawled onto the mattress next to him, still thinking hard. I settled my head on the pillow and immediately felt his arm groggily reach out to pull me close. Spooning into my back, his restless agitation quieted until he dropped into deep sleep, arms holding me close. And the best of the Commonwealth is right here next to me, I realized, drifting into my own slumber. One final thought rose up to extinguish my indecision, solidifying my resolve.

I can't leave.