Skill Up

Despite my brave words, the protection of the ballistic armor in my outfit, and knowing MacCready had my back, I had to dredge up every ounce of my courage to force myself onward. My rifle was slung over my shoulder, and I presented myself as a harmless target, hiding the grenade in my sleeve. I focused on breathing deeply and steadily, my eyes scanning the environment for any additional forces we may have missed. Ahead of me, the two raiders had taken notice of my presence, but their only reaction was to assume a slightly more alert pose, watching my approach.

Please, please just listen to reason, I thought at them. This doesn't have to end in violence.

As soon as I reached conversational distance, the leftmost raider, a lanky woman dressed in stained, mismatched armor pieces barked out in a harsh voice. "That's far enough, citizen!" She laughed nastily, echoed in a deeper voice by her companion on the other side of the bar; a tall man who might have been muscular once, but years of a slovenly lifestyle gave his body a soft, roundish outline.

The sawed-off shotgun in his hands was more than enough threat to compensate for his lack of physical intimidation.

"Now," the female continued in a nauseating overly-sweet tone. "This here is a toll road. You pay us," another harsh laugh, "and we let you skitter off to whatever cesspool you call home. And before you get any ideas, we can shoot you faster than you can get that rifle off your shoulder." Her companion chortled, licking his sweaty upper lip in an unmistakably lewd manner, watching her with adoration in his gaze.

This... is not going well already. Nevertheless, I had to at least try.

"This is an open caravan route. Why should I pay you?" I asked, hoping the fear in my voice wasn't too noticeable. "I don't have any caps!" Of course I did, about half of our stash was in my pack, but I wasn't about to give them to a couple of raiders. I desperately tried to remember my reasoning to MacCready, that they would jump at the chance for a better life. "Why are you doing this? There are better ways to earn a living!" I spoke slowly at first, my words speeding up as strong emotions roiled in my gut.

The woman snarled, "You mean digging in the dirt like a couple of mole-rats?! Growing crops for every hungry scavver in the Commonwealth? Not my style. I like this much better." She caressed her rifle in a possessive manner, her smile growing even nastier.

The man echoed her outburst with his own guffaw, gesturing to a putrid pile of rotting bones and scraps of fabric at the end of the alleyway next to the barricade. "We are providing a public service," he sneered, answered by a bark of laughter from his companion, "keeping the streets clear of ferals and stuff. All we ask for is a little gratitude from dirt-grubbers like you. In the form of caps."

My lips pressed together in anger at the lie. "I know for a fact you had nothing to do with clearing out this stretch of road. Those," ugh, "corpses have been rotting for months! They were here the last time I went through this way, and that was long before you showed up."

The female raider spat on the street. "Whatever!" She raised her weapon, pointing it at me. "But, you see, we own this little barrier and you're not getting past. You're going to pay us. Now. Caps or blood, it doesn't matter to me." She grinned, a feral, wild expression. Her bloodshot eyes raked my form from head to toe. "Come to think of it, that weapon on your back would be a nice upgrade for my own kit."

Why does MacCready have to be right all the time? I gestured behind my back with our prearranged signal and dropped to the ground on my belly.

Crack! The female raider's head exploded in a mess of bloody fragments, showering the ground about her as her body dropped silently, fountaining blood. Her slovenly companion stared in dumbfounded shock for a brief moment, mouth open. I took that opportunity to pull the pin and invoke V.A.T.S. hoping fervently that it worked on grenades. I hadn't thought to try it before.

Crack! The man's forehead disappeared in a spray of blood and brain matter as he, too, dropped to the concrete of the street.

V.A.T.S. initiated... kind of. Instead of a feeling of slowing time and hyper-focusing on target, I almost instinctively sensed the trajectory of my throw. It wasn't much assistance compared to a firearm, but it was enough. The grenade rolled towards the open manhole, loosely covered by the pallet I had spotted before. I clumsily scrabbled back against the barrier, counting silently and covering my ears. One... I felt terrible, Two... awful, like an idiot, Three... for even thinking I could convince a couple of raiders to change their ways. F-

BOOM!

Even with my hands clapped over my ears, the explosion rocked my whole body, vibrations translating uncomfortably from my seat on the ground to pound my skull. I curled up into a fetal position, head towards my knees, and just focused on breathing. Once the rumbling underground had stopped, I flopped over on my back in an excess of relief.

"That went about as well as expected, hmm?" A shadow moved in to block the sunlight. "I told you so."

I sighed, refusing to open my eyes. MacCready moved so quietly that I never heard his approach. Yes, you told me. I should have believed you, humans or no. "Mm-hmm."

The smile in his voice was audible. "Aw, c'mon Boss! Part of the deal was I got to say 'I told you so' over and over again! It's no fun if you're here beating yourself up over a couple of bottom-feeding drug addicts. They don't deserve that kind of hold over your conscience. I believe you called it a 'clear case of self-defense'?"

I grudgingly opened my eyes to his grinning face. He held out his hand to pull me to my feet, tousling my curls affectionately when I groaned and stood up.

The retort died in my throat as I stared at him, suddenly noticing the change in his appearance. It was amazing how quickly MacCready managed to get dirty, just from sniping. His face was smudged, muddy smears only broken up by the snaggletooth grin and sparkling blue eyes. Even the hand he pulled away from my hair was coated in grime. "You're right, Mac," I conceded, eyeing the state of his clothes. "Out of curiosity, and to completely change the subject..."

"You're not going to stop me from saying 'I told you so' you know," he interjected, still grinning his little-kid grin.

I felt my own lips turn up in an answering smile. "I wouldn't expect you to. But," and I gestured to his encrusted state, "how did you get so dirty so quickly? We took showers only this morning."

He looked a little surprised, glancing down at his duster, and holding up his hand to examine it as if for the first time. "Camouflage."

"Say that again?" I had used mud to cover my Pip-Boy pin receivers at the Diamond City gate, but...

He shrugged. "Camouflage. The last thing I want to do when I'm sniping is attract attention. Pale skin especially is a dead giveaway that someone is there. You camouflage yourself to look like a piece of the scenery and stay perfectly still."

"Smart." I wrinkled my nose at him. "Though did you have to use stinky mud?"

Before I could react, he swooped in to rub his muck-smeared cheek against mine in a sloppy drive-by kiss. "Ughhh!" He scraped along one pant leg and booped the tip of my nose with the glob of sludge.

"There. We match. Now you practice being camouflaged while I check out your handiwork downstairs. I'll let you know when it's okay to come down. Oh, and one more thing?"

I uncrossed eyes that were staring at the crap on my nose. "Yeah?"

"I told you so."

With that parting shot, he disappeared into the manhole. I sat there scanning the area, trying to ignore the smears on my face. They stank, and the slight clicking from my Pip-Boy warned me that there was more than just mud coating my skin. How does RJ not get rad poisoning from this? Glancing briefly at the screen, I noticed the red line of radiation dosage had climbed again since the last time I had worn the device. Better take some RadAway again, and soon.

Maybe "Father" was right that the surface dwellers are essentially a different species now, that their DNA has altered since the bombs dropped. I'll hazard a guess that I'm genetically closer to the inhabitants of the Institute than I am to the people on the surface. It would explain quite a few things about life up here- not the least of which is the better resistance to radiation. Everything affects me more strongly than RJ, I've seen it. Food, water, even the air and soil. If that's the case, and the people up here have evolved, then the Institute is wrong in thinking that they're the pinnacle of humanity. Maybe society has suffered a blow, but humans gotten better at surviving. Is that why...?

My thoughts were interrupted by MacCready's echoing call from the chamber underground. "Need your help down here, Boss!"

The ladder was a little slippery, and I had to focus on my footing so as not to lose my grip. The reason why became apparent as soon as I had reached the floor. Hastily, I pulled the bandanna I had tied around my neck to cover my mouth and nose from the stench. The room was painted in red. Splashes of dark blood covered every exposed surface. Fighting the realization of what had happened and the wave of guilt threatening to overwhelm me, I frantically focused on the soothing form of my partner.

MacCready dug out a bag of caps and, ignoring my suppressed dry heaving, tucked it into my pack. "I, ahem, told you so," he repeated, gently grabbing my shoulders and turning me away from the not-quite-fully disguised pile of bloody remains haphazardly covered in a sheet. I recognized his attempt at distraction and tried to follow it. "Though you won the bet."

Laid out on a blasted table was a collection of scavenged pieces: weapons, ammunition of all types, one or two undamaged armor pieces, scattered caps, and a small pile of chems. MacCready had looted the cramped room in record time after cleaning up my inadvertent massacre. I blinked rapidly, holding back the screaming horror at what I'd done by sheer force of will. How many? How many people were down here, killed without warning? A strangled sob caught in my throat, and I felt my partner, my love, pull me into his embrace.

"It's okay, angel," he murmured, stroking my hair as I burrowed into his warmth, ignoring the blood and filth. "Take a moment to let it out. I've got you. I'm right here." A light breeze teased a hint of fresher air into the underground space, a thread of normalcy chasing the demons of bloodshed away.

Breathe. This is your world now. You did what you had to. Kill, or be killed. The arms around me tightened, holding me close. Traders and travelers are safer now- now that's they're gone. Focus on that. I nodded violently, clutching tightly to MacCready. Focus on him.

I pulled my head away, meeting his crystal gaze with a determined one of my own. "Thank you, RJ. I... I think I can keep going now."

He smiled gently in response, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "That's my girl." Still holding my hand, he pointed to a previously unnoticed chest sitting in the far corner. "Think you can crack it?"

I let go of him to run gentle fingers across the lock mechanism. This was a large safe, and the whispering tingle from my Pip-Boy told me that it would take a while to conquer. "I think so," I answered tentatively, "if I have enough time." And he needs time to rest after our trek and the fight, I thought with sudden insight. He's strong, but still recovering.

"Take all the time you need," he yawned, finding a bare spot against the wall to sink down into a comfortable slouch. "I'll be right here."

I took my time with the lock, glancing back every once in a while at MacCready, who had initially kept watch, but soon dropped into a light doze, clutching his rifle like a particularly deadly teddy bear. The Pip-Boy may have guided my hands, but it was still my own growing skills that had to defeat the tumblers in the cylinder. After more than a few slips, curses, and broken bobby pins, I finally managed to slip the lock open.

The door swung open silently, revealing a hitherto unknown treasure to my eyes.

"Magazines?" I murmured quietly, setting aside the stash of old jewelry and pre-war cash to pick up the first of the publications. My eyes widened when I saw the title and contents, and my mind leaped into joyful, eager planning. I held the copy against my chest, reaching for the next, and the next. Each magazine sparked inspiration in my head, and an excited smile plastered across my face as I leafed through the pages. The rest of the world melted away into the daydream that fired my enthusiasm. Oh my god, I exulted, I... I can do this!

A gentle hand on my shoulder caused me to jump and nearly drop the small armful of magazines I had hoarded in my arms. "You let me doze off," MacCready yawned in an accusatory tone, kneeling next to me to pick through the jewelry I had ignored. He cast a sidelong glance at me. "Good haul?"

"Look!" I excitedly showed him my new treasures, fanning the slim publications in my hands.

"'Guns and Bullets'?" he read the titles, one eyebrow raised. "And... Tesla Science?"

I nodded, grinning happily.

"No Grognak?" he asked with a slight pout. "I only need ...needed... one issue to complete my collection, you know." He sighed. "I guess Duncan'll have to take care of them for me." The moment of sadness passed quickly, though, and he poked at the magazines with one finger while sorting through the jewelry. "What's got you so excited about them?"

"RJ," I explained, keeping a firm hold on my enthusiasm. "I can do this! Look!" Picking out an issue I had earmarked, I flipped through the pages until I found the entry I wanted. "Here!"

He peered at the page. "Extended magazine modification for 10mm pistol..." His brows furrowed, thinking. "You understand this?"

I nodded again. "Yeah, it reads like one of my repair manuals from school. Though," and I paused, "a piccolo only makes you wish you were dead sometimes..."

"So..." MacCready scanned the page again. "If you followed the steps in the article, you could modify my pistol to..."

"...to fire more rounds before needing to reload, yes!" I picked out another magazine. "And this one has plans for making armor!" I dropped the magazines to pull my surprised partner into a hug. "RJ, I can do this! I can be useful out here- not a burden! I can..."

I was suddenly swept into a fervent kiss. "You are not a burden, angel." Heedless of our surroundings, MacCready pulled me over into his arms. "You saved my son. You saved me." His eyes glittered with emotion. "I bet if you put your mind to it, you can save the whole Commonwealth." He grinned, finally wiping the muck from the tip of my nose. "And I'm the lucky bas- uhh, guy who gets to be there when you do."

I huffed skeptically. "I'll be happy if I can just help people survive. With these," and I held up one of the precious magazines, "and the right tools, we can start making things better, one client at a time."

"And make piles of caps doing it." MacCready chuckled, smiling at me. "I like how you're thinking now, angel. Watch out world! Here we come!"