Chapter 6: Ashes! Ashes! We all fall down!
"Why haven't you used these?" Deacon commented as he placed frag mines around the base. He eyed a nearby plasma mine resting on a table. "Is there something wrong with them?"
James shoved a mine into a newly made crack in the stone wall. "I've never quite figured how to use them." Deacon took a few steps back nervously and James snorted in amusement. "Not like that! I just... never managed to successfully use them. They require a level of patience in fighting I don't possess. I tried a few times, but I mostly just burned or battered. MacCready tried to teach me, but it didn't work out. I offered caps, but surprising he won't take them. Apparently has something to not wanting to part with his sanity or his legs quite yet." Satisfied with his partner's explanation, Deacon relaxed.
"So what's the plan for the actual detonation? I love explosions and all, but I prefer viewing from afar. Really helps me appreciate the beauty of the destruction." Deacon placed a mine on his replacement's body and adopted the classic thinking pose. "There is something very surreal about entombing your own dead clone. I feel like there probably something profound and meaningful that we should take away from this."
"If there's meaning, it's lost on me. Never did care much fancy literature or writing." James shrugged. "I wouldn't dwell on it."
"Yeah, I guess your right." He picked up the last mine on the table placed it. "I think that's it." Deacon looked around the base thoughtfully. "You know, I think might miss this place." He looked over at his companion and smiled. "It's where we first met. It has sentimental value."
This earned his a sharp "ha" from James as he rummaged through his bag. "You mean, 'where I first met you'. You stalked me through the entire Commonwealth!" He pulled out a detonator and a bottle cap mine.
"I was just too shy to introduce myself! I was in awe of your effective madness! That's why I had Desdemona be my wingman." Deacon bantered as he followed James out of the base. The Sole Survivor planted the final mine outside the door and turned to Deacon.
"It's been a long haul to get this far and I couldn't have done it with you." He braced Deacon in a firm hug which he reciprocated.
"Aww, I love you too, buddy."
"You're the best friend I could ask for -" James slipped a syringe out of the blue sleeve of his vault suit and stabbed it into Deacon's neck. He tried to pull back, but James held him firmly. "and thanks to you I have my son back." Darkness entered the edges of Deacon's vision and his legs gave out under him. James gently lowered him to the ground and sat next to him. Running his fingers through Deacon's wig, he smiled. "From the bottom of my heart, I thank you, as does the Institute."
Eyes wide behind his sunglasses, Deacon stared up. "Why?" He asked weakly, the words catching in his throat.
James stood up and looked down at his paralyzed companion who was quickly approaching unconsciousness. With a calm smile, he simply replied
"Because I can."