"I can't." The Wanderer said, brushing off the request. "I have too much to do. I travel around too much and, as you've seen, I'm only myself when traveling alone."
Reilly winced at his comment. Though she was mostly recovered from the news of Butcher's death, it still hurt to be reminded of it. She had asked him to attend the funeral and stay for dinner with the rest of the Rangers. Unbeknownst to her, he normally wouldn't have done so, but she had a strange effect on him. Now they stood in the hallway leading towards the only entrance and exit in the entire building.
"We just lost our second in command. I'm in no shape to lead by myself, and none of the others are interested in leading." She countered, trying to get him to concede to her request.
"I'm no leader. I can barely follow orders, much less give them out."
In all honesty, Michael wanted to accept her offer. He knew that day after day out alone in the Wasteland was changing him, and not necessarily for the better. A year ago, he could at least relax in his own home in Megaton. He could talk to people. Now he was always jumpy, his 'fight or flight' response constantly on. He was beginning to see people less as individuals and more as either a liability or an enemy.
Reilly sighed, half exhausted from their trek to the bunker and half irritated that the supposed Wasteland Messiah was refusing her request. "You're the Lone freakin' Wanderer. A big time Wasteland hero. You're saying this is something you can't do?"
Suddenly, Reilly was reminded who it was she was talking to. With the low light, his build and duster, along with their very obvious height difference, he loomed over her, staring directly into her eyes. His icy blue eyes could be seen clear as day despite the darkness. She let out a small gasp as they seemed to pierce her very soul.
"There's a reason I'm good at what I do: It's because I've done it a lot, and I've done it alone. Like it or not, in the situations that are forced upon me you and your group would only be a liability." He said evenly, though rage could be seen clearly in his eyes.
Unable to hold his gaze longer, her eyes dropped to the floor. Suddenly she could breathe again. What was that? The question screamed in her mind. She had spoken with him before. She had seen his eyes before. In an instant he changed. His demeanor, his eyes, even the way he spoke. Her heart pounded in her chest as her mind tried to process what just took place.
Michael, however, became both angry and surprised at himself. Angry because he lashed out at Reilly when she didn't really deserve it, and surprise at the anger. Why was he angry at himself over something like that? "I'm sorry." Why did he just apologize? His mind swam with questions as his mouth continued to move. "That was uncalled for."
Still having a hard time catching her breath, her chest heaved with every word she spoke "What.. What was that?" She asked, placing a hand on the cold metal wall to keep herself from falling over. She couldn't meet his gaze, too afraid of what might happen if she did.
"That's hard to explain. Sometimes if you're out in the Wasteland long enough, you'll become a bit less you, and a bit more.. Animal, I guess. Feral. Another reason why I can't help you lead. Why I can't do groups. Next time you happen to see Gallows, ask him. He might be able to explain it better." He turned towards the door, but a hand grabbed his wrist as it approached the door knob.
"Don't.. Don't leave."
It wasn't an order. It was barely a whisper of a request. Her slender frame trembled, partly due to the cold, partly due to the idea of the person who saved both her and her Rangers leaving. His hand fell to his side and her hand returned to her chest. For a long time, they both stood there silently. He was thinking over her request. If he left now, he could make it to Fort Bannister by early morning to once and for all rid the Capital Wasteland of Talon Mercenaries. It was a noble quest. Talon Mercenaries, while not initially evil, had devolved into a pack of wild, rabid dogs. Dogs that needed to be put down. On the other hand, he could stay. Make sure Reilly was okay. Okay? No, that's not why you want to stay. You know why you want to stay. You know why you can't.
Michael was torn. While he saw other people as liabilities, he himself was a target for all kinds of trouble. Michael opened his mouth to speak to tell her that he couldn't stay, but no words came out. Instead, at that moment he felt her press up against his back as her slender arms wrapped around his front. He couldn't feel it, but the back of his duster was getting a bit wet where her face pressed, her tears being soaked up by the worn leather. He placed a hand onto her own. A gentle voice escaped his throat;
"Alright. I can stay for a bit."
Michael stayed with the Rangers for three days before anyone said anything. Brick's patience clearly needed work though, as she was the first to confront both he and Reilly about him staying for so long.
"What is he even doing here? Shouldn't he be out saving some helpless kittens in a tree or something?" She said in an exasperated voice, waving her hands all over the place. Clearly, she wasn't happy about him being there. Reilly however came to his, and in turn her own defense.
"You saw what happened. Right now I'm not fit to take you all back out there. I asked him to stay because he's the best chance we have should Talon come after us again."
Brick wasn't convinced. She never bought into the tales of the 'Lone Wanderer' and thus she thought him nothing special. "I don't buy the bullshit Three Dog spews on the radio. He's just a man, Reilly. No different than any of us, other than his stroked ego."
Surprisingly, the normally silent Miles had decided to speak up at that moment "You were too busy blindly firing at those Talon Mercs on that bridge to see what I saw, Brick. He's not like us."
Brick was going to retort before Kilo, Miles' partner, made her opinion known from the corner of the room "You remember Gallows? Imagine him, now take away the power armor and throw in a few dozen more years of experience. That's what this guy here is like." She finished, hiking a thumb pointing towards the Wanderer.
Brick turned on the Wanderer, outraged that her long-time companions had turned on her. He hadn't met her gaze, choosing instead to focus on something on his PiP-Boy. He was equally unfazed when she slammed her hands down onto the table. "That's it. You and me, Wanderer. We're going to go outside and spar a few rounds. I'll show these guys you're only smoke and mirrors."
Instead of looking at Brick, Michael chose to look at Reilly with a raised eyebrow, as if asking if she was going to allow this to happen. Her shrug told him everything he needed to know. Standing up, he made his way towards the exit, a single word escaping his lips. "Fine."
It wasn't long before they were in the courtyard, Reilly and the other rangers standing in a semi-circle around the two would-be combatants. Reilly listed off the rules of the spar, mostly looking at Michael the entire time. Brick was infuriated even further when the Wanderer seemed to refuse to look at her, paying attention only to Reilly.
"Alright. This is going to be a clean spar. No killing, no maiming, no crippling blows of any kind. No weapons, hidden or otherwise. Got it?"
"Got it." Brick stated, already deciding she had won while positioning herself into the Brotherhood's signature hand-to-hand combat style. Michael however stood stock still, slowly looking away from Reilly towards Brick.
"Begin." Reilly said, somewhat eager herself to see what the fuss was about, not having witnessed the Wanderer fight before.
As the words left Reilly's mouth, the Wanderer's eyes met Brick's. Like three days prior, Brick experienced something very similar to what Reilly had. Her throat dried, her heart sped up, and she was unable to either move or breathe. His eyes pierced her very soul and seemed to tear her up from the inside out. She didn't even notice he was slowly walking towards her until he was towering over her, slamming her to the ground mercilessly.
To the onlookers, it had seemed that Brick had frozen up. As if her brain had somehow shut down. All but Reilly were confused as to what had happened. She knew what happened. He did that thing. They watched as he effortlessly slammed her into the ground, stood up straight, and began walking away.
Brick's mind started working properly again. She didn't understand what he had done other than slam her into the ground. Her entire body felt like she had just gone six rounds against someone with power armor on. But Brick was defiant, picking herself up while shouting to her opponent. "Hey dickhead, we're not done yet. I don't know what you did, but that's not going to happen ag-"
She couldn't finish her sentence as he was on her again, having closed the substantial gap between them in the blink of an eye. Before she could register that, his fist had taken purchase in her solar plexus, lifting her off the ground by a few inches and forcing her to double over. Ever the hothead, she took a jab at his side, aiming for his kidney. The attack was all for naught however, as she felt her body continue lifting up into the air, over him, and then back down. Her back impacted the ground so hard she once more lost the ability to breathe for a few short seconds.
The Rangers watching the 'fight' were stunned. They didn't even see him move from other other side of the makeshift arena before Brick was once again incapacitated. Brick, for her part, was absolutely humiliated as well as enraged even further. She didn't understand what had just taken place, but she did know this man, the Lone Wanderer, wasn't human. Acting without much forethought, she struggled to lift herself up, brandishing a hidden blade taken from one of the many pockets in her armor. Before Reilly or any of the other Rangers could see the blade, she was on him, the blackened steel glinting dangerously in the sun, poised to strike at the top of his skull. To her and everyone else's surprise, however, he vanished as the blade was brought down onto the space his head used to occupy.
Miles and Kilo could make out a faint shimmer before his assault began. To the others, however, she was being hit by nothing. Her body jerked and convulsed as she felt the strength of a power armor augmented power fist slam into her body over and over. Her kidneys, liver, solar plexus, stomach, and finally her head. With each hit, another shimmer was caught by both Miles and Kilo due to the angle of their observation.
The Wanderer appeared suddenly, wrenching the knife out of her grasp as she choked on what supposedly was her own blood. The other Rangers watched as he examined the knife for a moment, wondering if he would end her life for her transgression, before he threw the knife at an unoccupied wall, the knife burying four inches into the concrete. As Reilly and the others approached, Michael crouched down to Brick.
Reilly watched in amazement as he began to administer first aid to the person who had just tried to kill him. Michael injected some Med-X into her leg as he checked her pulse. Brick was unable to protest these actions even if she wished to, her body bruised and, along with her spirit, broken. Rightly, everyone observing the spectacle had a hard time coming to terms that the person helping Brick was the same one who just absolutely dominated her in the fighting ring. Looking up to Reilly, the Wanderer spoke "Get her to the sick bay. A few rounds of Stimpaks and a week of rest and she'll be fine."
After watching what the Wanderer was capable of, nobody else had dared question Reilly's decision to keep him around for a while. Reilly had considered punishing Brick for the attempted murder of the most Famous, or infamous person in Wasteland, but Michael had convinced her that he punished her enough. Now she was visiting Brick in the sick bay while Michael was busy keeping watch over the bunker.
"You have to send him away, Reilly. He's not normal. I don't even think he's human." Brick said fiercely despite how he had treated her after she was done fighting him.
"Brick, I'm not going to do that. You can't expect someone like him to be all that normal anyways. You attacked him with deadly force. I don't think even Donovan would have spoken up had he decided to repay you in kind." Reilly said, clearly angry at Brick.
Brick was furious. She couldn't believe that the Wanderer had ingratiated himself so well in such little time to her leader. "He doesn't belong here, Reilly. He's a danger to us all."
Astounded, Reilly leaned back "Brick, you were the one who tried to kill him. If anything, you're the one who is out of control." Deciding she'd settle this at a later date, she stood up to leave. When she turned around, however, she stopped at what Brick said next.
"What has he done to you, Reilly? Why are you so sweet on him? You.. You're not in love with him, are you?"
Reilly spun back around, opening her mouth to deny it. She hesitated, though, and that's all Brick needed.
"... That's it, isn't it? You're in love with him. With that freak. Even so soon after losing Butcher."
Stunned, the redhead retaliated against Brick's verbal assault. "Now you listen here, Shari" she said, seething "We all lost Carl. He was as important to me as he was to you, if not more so. Don't you fucking dare insinuate I didn't care about him."
Unbeknownst to them, Michael was around the corner, leaning against the wall. He had something urgent to tell Reilly, but the conversation piqued his interest.
Reilly continued her speech "I loved Carl. Every single Ranger knew that, especially you. The same can be said for the fact that he didn't feel the same about me. He's gone now, Brick. We have to move on. Michael showed me that."
This caused Brick to reel back, not knowing the Wanderer's name. "It's Michael now, is it? You are. You're wrapped around his fucking finger and you know it."
Reilly put her fist onto the wall beside her, bloodying her knuckles. "Shut up. What I decide to do in my personal time, with my own life is none of your god damn business. You don't like it? Too fucking bad. You have two options; Never mention this again, or leave your armor at the door and leave."
Her eyes downcast, she went on "Maybe I do care about him. Maybe I am in love with him. I don't know. All I know is I feel safe with him around. And safety is something we need if Talon is after us."
Michael chose that moment to make himself known, coming around the corner causing Reilly to look at him with wide eyes, wondering if he heard everything she had said "Sorry to interrupt, but you need to get your Rangers up and moving. We've got Talon Company a few blocks out. Six fireteams of eight. Missile Launchers, Flamers, Fat Mans, the works."
The previous conversation forgotten, Brick's eyes bulged. "Jesus.. They're loaded for Deathclaw."
The Wanderer pulled a somewhat strange, heavy looking from his back. Pulling the charging handle, he spoke "No. They're loaded for me."
The Rangers had set up a defensive position in their compound. Miles and Kilo were in the windows of buildings on opposite sides, providing overwatch. Brick, still somewhat hampered by her injuries, was set up at the only entrance to the complex, her Minigun full of rounds to send at any would-be trespassers. Donovan was in the bunker, working to put the finishing touches on his newest project while Reilly was stationed with Brick, armed with an odd rifle lent to her by the Wanderer. Where he carried all those weapons he carried, she'd never know.
The Wanderer had decided to go back out and scout the area to see where they were at. He knew that the Missile Launchers and Fat Mans that they had brought would be worthless if the Rangers didn't come out of their compound, due to the back-blast of the launchers and the arc of the Fat Mans. The Flamers were a different story. The Rangers would be in serious trouble if the Talon Mercs got anywhere near the compound with those.
There were 48 Mercs in total. That was quite a few, even for him. Strategies flashed through his mind as he tried to figure out how to keep the Rangers alive. He knew that he could make it out of there, and he knew that he could probably take on the Talon Mercs if it were just him, but he had to think about how to keep other people near him alive; Something he wasn't used to doing.
Time was running short as they advanced, so he chose quickly. He quickly jogged a few blocks away and set up in a building facing the street the Talon Mercs were coming from. About three blocks forward was the only cover they'd have, and that was the Ranger Compound. Michael set up one of his signature weapons, something called a Barret M107. .50 Cal rounds. Deploying the bipod on the end of the rifle quickly, he zeroed the scope on top of the large rifle. Steadying his breathing, he took aim and fired.
The first round impacted the tank of a Flamer one of the front-line Mercs were carrying. It ruptured, the pressurized tank spewing the extremely flammable gel onto all the nerby mercs. Firing again, the Wanderer ignited the flames. The Talon mercs screamed in both pain and confusion. As the sticky flames ate away at the skin of some of the mercs, they began to fan out, not sure where they were being shot from. Two more shots ringed out, hitting a Mini-Nuke in one of the Fat Mans towards the back of the group, causing a large explosion.
'Seven down..' The Wanderer thought to himself as he fired again.
The Rangers heard the chaos outside. Explosions, screams, and gunfire. Reilly took a deep breath, silently hoping that the Wanderer wasn't in trouble.
Miles and Kilo looked to each other once as they heard the explosion. Both nodding, they went back to looking through their scopes.
Over the edge of one of the buildings, the sun could be seen going down. It was going to be a long night.
Michael fired once more before leaving his sniping perch. He was out of rounds. Sixteen dead or dying mercs littered the street his building was overlooking. Moving down the stairs, he brandished another rifle, this one much smaller. A weapon from The Pitt, sleek black, suppressor, scope, and a folding stock. After pushing up without being seen thanks to the Stealth-Boy function on his PiP-Boy, he took aim once more and began firing. Three round groupings, headshots. One by one the Talon Mercs watched as their comrades fell without so much as a single shot being heard.
The man in charge, a man known as Sgt. Pepper, lead the troops into what he could only assume was their only safe haven. How wrong he was. As troops began to quickly file into the narrow alley, fire from a Minigun tore his troops to shreds. He cursed, knowing that this would be his grave. He didn't want to go after the Lone Wanderer, and he knew that he would probably die doing it, but Jabasco would make sure he'd die if he didn't. Thirty two men down in minutes. He made an executive decision.
"Stop firing, you idiots! Stop!"
His yells could be heard by both the Rangers and the Wanderer. The Wanderer watched through his scope as he yanked the rifle out of nearby Talon Merc's hands. When the younger Merc took a swing at the older one, he allowed himself to let out a small snicker as the young merc was laid out by the buttstock of his own rifle.
Tossing the rifle down to the ground, he slowly raised his hands, knowing the Wanderer could end him at any second. He spoke "Look, I only took this job because if I didn't Jabasco would kill me. I don't want to die. I enjoy living. I want to go home tonight." Sgt. Pepper was sweating and his mouth was dry. He didn't want to die, but he also didn't want his men to die. "But so do my guys. I was the one who put this lot together. You let them go, they swear to leave Talon Company forever. I'll stay in their place."
When nothing was heard in return, the recruit who had just been knocked down made a move for his sidearm. He quickly pulled it out and got behind Sgt. Pepper, putting the cold metal against his head. "What're ya doin', Sarge? Don't answer, I'll tell ya. You's is betraying Talon Company. I ein't gonna let that slide." Before he could fully squeeze the trigger however a shot rang out and Sgt. Pepper felt what he assumed was brain matter splatter against the back of his head.
The other Talon Mercs stood stock still as they realized the Wanderer was now in the middle of them, having seemingly materialized out of thin air. They saw in his hand a large, odd-shaped revolver pointing at where one of their comrade's head used to be, now on the ground leaking out both blood and brain matter. Two other mercs thought it would now be a good idea, since they could see him, to raise their sidearms. They didn't even get their fingers on the triggers before they were also dead on the ground.
Coming to his senses, Sgt. Pepper spoke, not daring to move "Alright. Them boys were stupid, stupid people. But as you can see, nobody else here wants to die today." The Wanderer stood still, his RSH-12 revolver pointed at the last few surviving Talon Mercs, while in his other hand was a Colt 1911, pointed to the head of Sgt. Pepper.
After a few minutes of silence, Michael spoke, looking at the younger mercs "If any of you go back to Talon Company, I'll know. I'll hunt you down and make you watch as I carve the flesh off of everyone you care about with a rusty, flaming lawnmower blade. Do you understand?" The mercs didn't speak, instead opting to nod their heads quickly, his message loud and clear. Unbeknownst to them all, the Rangers were watching.
"Good." Moving his 1911, he put one round in one leg of each of the younger mercs, causing them to cry out. "If Talon comes asking you to come back, your limp should show you're no longer capable of being a merc." Sgt. Pepper winced, but it was really for the best. The other Talon Mercs hobbled away, not daring to look back.
Brick took this moment to make the Rangers' presence known. "You're letting them go?"
If the Wanderer was surprised, he didn't show it. He didn't even acknowledge her presence. "Reilly" He called. Reilly quickly came to his side.
"Turn around. Slowly." he commanded Sgt. Pepper. The old merc did what he was told, not wishing to upset the man who just took down an entire platoon of well-armed and well-trained mercs. Michael met Pepper's gaze from under his hood. "What's your name?"
"Joseph. Joseph Pepper" The old merc struggled to speak, the Wanderer's presence weighing incredibly heavily on him suddenly. The Sergeant could tell that the Wanderer was considering his options.
Surprisingly, he watched as the Wanderer turned his head to look at Reilly. "You need any intel on Talon Company?"
Reilly looked at the Sergeant. She sized him up before making a decision that would forever change Sgt. Pepper's life. "Yeah, but we also need a new Quartermaster. He's it, after a probationary period." The Wanderer raised an eyebrow, but said nothing about her decision.
Pepper looked at Reilly in amazement. He was sure he was going to die tonight, but now he was going to live, and better yet, he was going to have a better way of making a living? The thought came crashing down, however, when Brick spoke up. "Oh come the fuck on. We're letting Talon mercs in now? He's probably just going to kill us in our sleep." Michael decided at that time to level a glare at Brick, promptly making her shut up.
"Alright people, let's get inside. Kilo, you're on watch." Reilly ordered. Indeed, it was going to be a long night.
