*I am sorry it has been a really long time since I last wrote. I have been a little lackluster lately and working 3rd shift isn't helping much. Plus I've been kinda distracted by a lot of the other content on this site...so anyways here is my next chapter. I hope you all enjoy this and please leave me a comment on what you think or any suggestions you may have! Thanx much!*
Preston Garvey woke early that morning and headed out for his routine patrol of the grounds. Sanctuary's walls had just been completed along with an impressive fortified gate marking the main entrance. He nodded and exchanged pleasantries with some of the night watchmen on the guard towers along the silently flowing stream. In a few hours when the sun came up he would return this way to hold report with the day guard. Preston climbed the stairs leading to the lookout above the main gate and absently scanned the barren landscape surrounding them. The broken bridge was in the process of being repaired, and he watched an empty bucket hanging from the scaffolding sway in the slight breeze. All was quiet save for the low rattling and humming coming from the automated turrets along either side of him. This was the time of day he liked most. Everything was quiet and peaceful, and you could forget for one moment just how crazy and dangerous the would really was. For this breif moment life was serene like he imagined it would have been before the bombs fell. He knew it wouldn't remain that way for long; so he would savor the moment for as long as he could. Soon Sanctuary's residents would wake and go about their various duties. The town would be a hub of activity and noise. But for now-now it was as if the world were his and his alone. It's tranquility was soothing.
Preston heard footsteps ascending the stairs behind him and turned to see Sturges shuffle along the deck towards him. He nodded a greeting and stood silently alongside him in the cool morning air. It was several minutes before either of them spoke.
"The North lookout had a quiet night. No signs of activity. Jun spotted some bloodbugs floating around the marsh some time ago but they didn't seem interested in us. Other than that it's been another good night." Sturges finished his report and watched his friend intently. Preston nodded but remained silent. He could practically feel Sturges staring at him in the dim light.
"She's gonna come back you know. She's been overdo like this before. You know how she is. She's probably off taking down ferals or something." Preston tensed at that thought. He knew she could hold her own pretty well in a fight; but that didn't make it any easier knowing she was out there alone. He had offered to go with her this time but she had politely refused. He knew that she preferred being on her own; but she should know she was too important now to just go out into danger with no backup whatsoever. She was the leader of the Minutemen for goodness' sake. They only managed to get this far on account of her leadership and guidance. He knew he couldn't have done any better. Preston heard his friend chuckle beside him and slap him on the shoulder.
"Quit pining man-you're starting to remind me of Dogmeat." Sturges laughed. Preston finally turned to him with an annoyed expression.
"Shut up. I'm going to continue my patrol. Keep me posted." He moved briskly down the steps and along the interior wall, checking for breaks or problems with it's integrity along the way. The dry soil crunched beneath his boots and he whistled a tune to himself absently to keep his mind occupied. It wasn't long before his thoughts inevitably returned to their absent General. Sturges was right-he shouldn't worry. She could be a stubborn, reckless pain in the ass but one thing she was incredibly good at was surviving. Before long the sky began to tinge red and streaks of orange slowly erupted from the horizon. He stopped at a tower to watch the sun rise. Another glorious day in the Commonwealth.
Preston held morning report with the watchmen then returned to his quarters. He breifly checked in with Jules-the young man in charge of Sanctuary's radio tower. Margot still had not reported in. He tried not to think about it as he rested his laser musket against the dresser in the corner of his room. He removed his coat and hat and rubbed his eyes wearily. Lying back on his bed he laced his hands behind his head and took a few deep breaths. Preston closed his eyes and thought of Margot; where she was, and wondering if she was ok.
One of the ferals seemed to have snuck up on her and Margot felt herself roughly knocked off balance as it barreled into her at full speed. She was able to maintain her footing long enough to spin around and make a jab at the creature's skull with the butt of her rifle. If it weren't for the stupid concrete ledge of the loading dock she would have succeeded too. Her feet temporarily lost contact with the earth and she fell over backwards. Margot felt her breath get knocked out of her and a cloud of dust rose up to encircle her like a halo. The feral that had attacked her scrambled up and rushed straight for her as she raised her rifle up and prayed for a miracle. She then heard the 'whiff' in the air and watched as a dagger sunk itself deep into her attacker's left eye. The feral crumpled backwards onto the concrete and lay twitching slightly. Margot looked around in time to see Hancock tip the corner of his hat to her before taking up his weapon again and firing off a few more shots into the nearest feral. Huh-guess having him along wasn't such a bad idea after all. Damn show-off. Margot laughed to herself as she regained her footing and dusted herself off slightly. She quickly turned and aimed her sights at a bloated feral shuffling along the other end of the warehouse. She took a breath and released it as the bullet left the barrel with a satisfying sound and seemed to split the air on the way to it's target. Like always-her aim was true. She watched with a smile as the top of the creature's head was busted open by the force of a .308, and the lifeless body sagged against the wall. The sound reverberated off the walls and mixed with the popping of gunfire from outside. Margot dropped her rifle and pulled her sidearm, rushing out the door after Hancock.
A few minutes later they both stood back to back, breathing heavily and taking in the carnage around them. A dozen or more ferals lie dead at their feet. Margot lowered her gun and pushed it back into it's holster.
"Next time we do this my way." She laughed as she turned to face Hancock. She had recommended they use her rifle to pick them off from a distance-then go in and clean out the ones inside the building. Hancock was more for a "guns blazing" approach that she wasn't prepared for. He smiled and gestured around him with his free hand.
"You gotta learn hand-to-hand combat eventually sister. You can't always hide in the bushes a hundred yards away."
"I'm not hiding!" She blurted out indignantly. "And I think I handled myself just fine in there thank you very much!" Hancock gave her a look of disbelief.
"Oh-so is that why I had to save your ass?" Then he flinched as Margot kicked him roughly in the shin. He laughed at her as he re-entered the building to retrieve his dagger. Margot followed, scowling slightly.
"You're gonna have to teach me how to do that sometime. That was pretty awesome." In all honesty she was rather impressed by his skills. She begrudgingly admitted to herself that maybe she did need some guidance from him in close combat. Not that she'd let him know that though.
Margot bent to collect her weapon and it was then she noticed the searing pain in her right shoulder. She felt gingerly behind her and winced as she felt warm blood trickle through her fingers. Damned feral must have clawed her.
"Crap." She said aloud and crossed over to an old wooden workbench to sit down. Hancock followed and began inspecting her wound.
"Needs a Stimpak-a little dressing wouldn't hurt either. Stay put a moment." He left her momentarily to gather up their packs they had left up on a hill outside. Margot slowly undid the clasps on her chest armor and carefully eased the straps over her head. The release of that pressure coupled with the cool-down from her adrenaline made her even more aware of the stinging pain over her shoulder blade. Hancock returned with their supplies and started organizing them on the table behind her.
"You ready for this?" He asked as he poised a stimpak over her wound. Margot took a steadying breath and closed her eyes.
"Just do it all-ARGH!" She screamed out as he stabbed the needle into her skin and depressed the plunger. It hurt like a bitch-but the pain quickly subsided as the medicine worked it's magic. She could feel the skin around the edges of her cuts healing and some of the heat from the infection slowly dissapated. Hancock tossed the used syringe on the table and gave her a quick once over.
"This is gonna need a dressing. Fucker got you pretty good." Margot laughed.
"What can I say? I attract all kinds of creeps and weirdos."
"Well-I can't get to this wound from out here." Hancock paused. "I'm gonna need you to undo your suit a bit." Margot laughed again at that and teased him some more.
"You're just trying to get me naked aren't you? I know your tricks John Hancock." She knew he was right, and she reached up to the zipper at her neck and started to draw it down.
"Not to brag but I've never needed tricks to get what I want from the ladies." He teased her silkily, then continued more seriously. "And anyways-that wasn't my intention. Now stop being a pain and do what I say." Margot smiled to herself as she eased her jumpsuit over her shoulder, careful not to pull the fabric down too far. Hancock gently slid the strap of her bra over her still-healing wound and down her upper arm. Margot sighed a little as she felt him splash some water over her skin to clean it then apply a cloth dressing neatly and with ease.
"Have you done this often?" She asked him curiously. Hancock was quiet a moment before he answered.
"I've seen a lot in my time sister. Not all of it nice." They were silent a while longer while he finished his work and she contemplated his words. When he was finished she felt his rough fingers brush against her smooth skin as he helped her put her suit back on. The sensation gave her little goosebumps she was really glad the long sleeves of her suit didn't allow him to see.
Margot zipped herself back up and slid her armor back on. She hopped off the workbench and turned to face Hancock as he repacked their supplies.
"Well-I've got a new name for you." She giggled as she slung her pack over her good shoulder.
"I'm almost afraid to ask." He replied warily-but he couldn't help the smile creeping across his face. This little game of hers which involved her giving him new nicknames depending on the situation had at first been annoying. Now he found he was starting to look forward to their playful banter.
"I think I'll call you Doctor Hancock...no no no! Doc Johnny!" She grinned at him as she walked past out the door into the sunlight.
"Oh- now you've gone too far!" He called after her and followed, still smiling.