Hangman's Ally was probably the most interesting settlement that Madelyn had see yet. It was built in a beehive fashion down the space between two tall buildings. There was almost no space that wasn't built on to. "This is impressive..."

"Yeah but all it takes is one Molotov and the whole place goes down," Hancock frowned and Nate nodded.

"We had planed on putting steel up, but the provisioners were being stopped by raiders. That's why they put in the call," Nate sighed. "The other side had been breached."

"Are the people okay?"

"Time to find out. There's no guard..." he replied as he made his way forward. Madelyn suddenly had a bad feeling. Was it common for them not to have a guard posted?

Hancock held his double barrel shotgun and stood next to Madelyn with Nate right in front of them, a combat rifle ready. She grabbed her ten-millimeter from the holster on her hip and held it in both hands, ready to react if needed but kept it pointed down as she had been instructed to when not in active combat. She loved the weapon that the Sentinel had given her after leaving Diamond city.

Madelyn could feel her heart pounding against her ribs; it was almost painful how suspenseful it was to walk up to the gate. Nate was careful to be as quiet as possible, crouched down and moving with an unnatural ease in the position. Hancock didn't bother sneaking, instead he hugged the wall, so Madelyn followed behind him. The Sentinel pulled open the gate door next to the one they now stood in front of. He only cracked it slightly and peaked his head in. Madelyn watched his hands on his combat rifle flex, preparing for use. Hancock glanced down at her. "No matter what, stay behind me, Maddy," he said with a fatherly sternness. She nodded, she had no plan to step out from behind that red frock coat.

With a gesture to tell them to wait, Nate slid in between the doors. There was a moment of silence, and then a shot. Madelen jumped, her entire body ridged. Another shot fired, this one louder, blasting right after the first. The second bullet came through the wood of the gate door that Hancock and Madelyn stood against, opening the skin of her left bicep. "Ow!" she cried out and quickly grabbed her mouth to stifle the sound with one hand while the other held her heavy ten-millimeter so as not to drop it. Hancock whipped around, looking her over then checked her wound, before stepping around the gate into the settlement his shotgun lifted for a fight. Madelyn tried to follow quickly, but shock delayed her reaction time. It took her a moment after entering the settlement to realize people were talking and Hancock was putting away his shotgun.

"… have killed you!" the Sentinel was saying, standing in front of a young man holding an impressive sniper rifle.

"You kill me? I nearly took your head off, Nate!" the man gestured to the hole in the gate, which brought his attention to the two bodies that came out form behind it. "Oh," he frowned, looking at the red blood dripping from between Madelyn's fingers. She hadn't even realized she had moved her hand from her mouth to the wound; it must have been a subconscious movement.

"He got Maddy in the arm, nothing serious," Hancock informed Nate. But the Sentinel spun around to face her, throwing his combat rifle over his shoulder where only the strap saved it from hitting the ground. Then he was in front of her, looking at her bleeding arm.

"How bad does it hurt?"

"I can move it," she answered and showed him. He nodded, looking at it with feathery fingers. Her grey eyes flickered to the man with the sniper rifle. He looked to be in his early twenties with shadowed eyes set under thick, dark eyebrows. His hat gave him a few more inches in height, not that he needed it as he was already quiet tall, but unlike the Sentinel, he wasn't overwhelmed in muscle, giving him a more lean appearance under the unique dusters he wore.

"Sorry about that," he said, slinging the rifle across his back.

She frowned and Nate smiled a little, "That's MacCready, he's a friend."

She nodded, not saying anything, instead, she looked back at the Sentinel. MacCready, the guy that the Minutemen were talking about back at the Castle. Somehow, this wasn't what she imagined. Most of the Minutemen were just… settlers, but this guy looked more official than that, and not just because of an obvious ego that was already making it hard to breathe. This guy had spent time with some militaristic faction, and by the way he held himself, it was probably mercenary.

"What happened here?" Hancock asked while Nate dug through his duffle bag and pulled out an herb that would close her wound in a few days. Then he began wrapping it.

"By the time I got here everyone was gone. There were some dead, I have a feeling the survivors were run off, not taken hostage. One raider was left here, but I'd killed him before I realized he was alone so I didn't have anyone to question." MacCready walked passed them to a cooler and opened it with his boot before bending and taking out a Nuka Cola. After kicking the blue box shut he offered it to her and she took it, looking up at him. He gave her an apologetic half grin, and went to sit down in a nearby chair. She popped the cap and pocketed it then slowly drank the flat soda. Nate straightened when he was finished wrapping her arm.

"We'll check nearby settlements, if anyone got out they would look for safety." Madelyn holstered her gun and fixed her sleeve. She was tired, but she could do some more walking, there were about two hours of sunlight left. "Oh, no, Maddy, you should stay here. I'd hate for that wound to get worse," Nate frowned at her. She looked up at him in shock. He was leaving her behind? The idea seemed to upset him just as much since his pale blue eyes looked sad, and his scared lips were turned down into a frown.

"I'm fine," she insisted, almost begging. Then the sniper stood up.

"I'll stay with her, better to have me here to pick off anyone before they get too close, right?" MacCready reached up and patted the rifle on his back.

"Okay, but only engage if they become a threat, stay hidden as long as you can," Nate grabbed the sniper's shoulder, holding it tightly, and MacCready nodded his understanding. Madelyn's expression was taken over by shock.

"You're leaving with the guy that shot me?" she breathed. Nate and MacCready looked at her and Hancock gave a muted chuckle, then stifled it with a cigarette he slipped between his lips.

"I wasn't aiming for you," the sniper protested her tone. She let out a sarcastic laugh that was a single 'hah'.

"No you were aiming at the Sentinel and missed," she snapped.

MacCready's thick brows pulled together, "Sent–? Oh, now I get it, she's Brotherhood. That explains the outfit," he turned back to Nate, his interest in her diminished. "What'd you do Nate? This has to be a punishment."

"Excuse you," Madelyn snapped, her voice catching the sniper's ear. She stepped between the Sentinel and the civilian. She had to look up at him more than she wished. She barely stood to his shoulders, putting her face right in his chest. The smell of him filled her nose as she took in the breath to fuel her defense. He smelled like sweat, testosterone, and gunpowder with a hint of something underneath, something like… mutfruit? "It is a Brother's duty to train the next generation of soldiers. I am honored to call myself the Sentinel's Squire."

"Is he honored to call you his squire though?" the sniper raised an eyebrow at her, his eyes flickering across her face. They were cast into such a shadow, but she could just see the blue hints at their deepest parts, unable to be taken by the darkness.

"Yes, actually," Nate said, resting a hand on her shoulder. She tore her eyes from the sniper and looked up at Nate who was smiling. "She's the best squire I could have asked for."

"My mistake," MacCready said, raising his hands in surrender. "I'll be upstairs, I'm sure there's a nice look out point somewhere up there." He stepped back, looking down at her for a moment before returning his attention to the Sentinel.

"Thanks, MacCready," Nate said and the other man left, disappearing down the dark hallway toward a staircase.

"He seems like a dick," Madelyn frowned.

Nate laughed, seeming surprised by her language, and rubbed her hat, messing with her hair. She frowned a little and removed the cap when he stepped away. "RJ's harmless, really, to friends at least, he's a lot of talk, just don't steal his seat, I've seen him bloody a guy's nose over a chair." Hancock laughed and nodded, recalling the memory. She wondered how much history they all had. They seemed pretty well acquainted, but there was still a stiffness when he spoke to Nate that she wondered about.

"How did you two meet?"

"Oh, um," Nate's brows pulled together as he tried to remember.

Hancock laughed, "You and him shot that ghoul at the same time, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I was really drunk…" Nate explained, smiling at the memory. "It was a glowing one, really nasty, and Hancock bet I couldn't one shot it from the rooftop we were on," the Sentinel gave a shrug. "We still can't decide who actually killed it."

"Wow," Madelyn raised an eyebrow at the two men.

"Anyway, we should get going, we'll split up and meet back here tomorrow night, with any news we have on survivors." Nate buried his fingers in her hair and then shook his hand back and forth, causing the bun at the back of her head to fall out.

"Sentinel!" she protested and caught the hair tie before it fell to the ground.

"Oh, relax, you're not on duty," Hancock smirked and patted her shoulder. She looked up at him, resisting the habit of shying away from his touch. He seemed to notice and smiled a little. She liked his smile, and grinned back. "See you in twenty-four, squirt," he said, and looked at Nate. "I'll take the east and south."

"I'll take the north and west then."

"Be safe," she told them and they both nodded.

Once they were gone Madelyn realized how tired she was. The Nuka Cola in her hand reminded her she wasn't alone, though, and that the sniper was upstairs. She didn't want to look at him right now, him and the staggering confidence that radiated off of him, or the way the wind caught the tails of his coat, giving every stance he held ten times the dramatic flare it deserved. What the hell was she saying, when did she even notice that?

Madelyn frowned and patted her forehead with her fist, trying to get the thought out of her mind with the gentle abuse. She had to find a distraction, something to keep her from thinking about him. Taking in a long breath and letting it out through her mouth so that her lips made a rather funny flapping noise, she put her hands on her hips and looked around.

She finally had a moment to really take in what the structure looked like. It was three stories high, with the first level as sort of basement without anything of interest, and the second primarily a community level with shops, venders, and seating all in the covered space like an indoor town. That was where she was now, on the second floor in a restaurant looking place. She noticed a radio on a counter and flipped it on. Pistol Packin' Mama rang through the speakers, and she smiled, she liked this song. There was a Nuka Cola machine in a corner next to a jukebox, and about ten nice white metal tables were sitting evenly spaced around the room, and each table had two short, white metal chairs with red cushions sitting across from each other. All but one that sat by the stairs that led up to the room by the front gate. Two destroyed turrets smoked from their positions on thin balconies above the gate, they looked to be the only defense for this side.

Madelyn walked down the hall to an open area with a staircase leading up to the third level, and from here she could see another set of stairs above that. There was another entrance here, but this one was destroyed, the gate was half the size of the other and still smoldering from when it had been on fire. Two more destroyed turrets sat here, with a burnt guard post between them, but these looked beyond repair compared to the two at the other entrance. Madelyn made her way up the stairs then, and with a squint down the hall she was able to see what looked to be bedrooms in a hotel fashion and another sitting area that would be right above the restaurant downstairs.

It was very… homey, almost like the Prydwen in a way, and she found herself smiling as a soft, lovely song came on the radio. 'One More Tomorrow' she thought it was. She swayed a little with her steps and climbed the next level, which was the open roof. The view was amazing as the sun set in the distance and the stars started to pierce the colors of the sky. "Oh, wow," she whispered, looking straight up and smiling. It was just like the views she had from the Prydwen.

"You act like you've never seen the sky before."

Madelyn had forgotten all about the sniper. He was sitting on the roof, his rifle taken apart and laid out in front of him. Not many settlers took apart and reassembled their guns for fun while waiting for action. In fact, it was almost cocky to do so, he didn't just think he could rebuild it before shit hit the fan; he knew he could. "Just been a little while since I took the time to," she walked over to him, looking at the pieces through the dimming light.

MacCready didn't seem to have anything to say to that, so he looked at the gun also. Then, in a flash, he was putting it together, his deft hands picking pieces that she could barely tell apart from the roof. She must have had a shocked expression because he glanced up at her, and smirked, then rested the finished rifle on his knee, looked through the scope, and fired in a swift movement. Madelyn looked off to see what he'd shot and an explosion in the distance ruptured. "Super Mutant Suicider," he explained and stood. She raised her brows, looking across the river and squinted to try to get a clearer image, but the second explosion was easy to see. "And that was a car."

"Cool, I thought the Sentinel said not to engage unless we were compromised," she returned her grey eyes to the sniper.

"Well, if you think stopping a Suicider in this close knit hive is for the best, I'll just start up some generators and turn the lights on." He lifted the gun over his head and rested it on his shoulders, then hung his hands over it to hold it in place. The stance made him look bigger, thicker through the shoulders, and stronger in the chest. Her eyes followed the V neck of his coat down to his belted waist which was decorated with a set of binoculars and pouches for ammo based on the bullet garters he wore on his left leg and the two extra tucked into the band of his hat. His other thigh also had a pouch, but this one was bigger, so it probably held something like a stimpak or some other aid.

Madelyn met his eyes, and shrugged, "Okay, but on your way to turning on the lights, you should stop by the bathroom and wipe that asshole off your face." The sniper's brows rose, he hadn't expected that from her, and to be honest, she hadn't either. Where had that even come from? Oh, God, it was Hancock, he was rubbing off on her. One too many witty one-liners from that ghoul and she was making up her own with little provocation. "Fuck, I'm sorry, I'm not sure where that came from…."

"You don't really get how come-backs work do you? Usually you don't apologize for stumping the other person." But he smiled, and she found herself looking at his lips. They were tight, almost pursed in a way, and surrounded by shadow, circling his mouth down to his chin with a light dusting of facial hair that was just barely a step above stubble. His upper lip was less than half the size of the bottom one, but when he smiled he showed off straight, healthy teeth. "You stare often?"

She blinked and met his questioning gaze. "Sorry, just getting distracted by that asshole, you might really have to go get rid of it."

"I'll wait for you to apologize," he smirked. She let out a sigh and looked away. "Come on, get downstairs, this isn't a good position anyway," MacCready lead the way to the staircase. Madelyn followed, watching as he walked how the jacket swayed with his movement.

"So, who killed the ghoul? You or Nate?"

"Oh? It's Nate now is it?" the sniper paused at the bottom of the stairs to give her a playful smirk, begging for a come back.

"He killed it then," she decided, passing him without looking his way and headed over to a sitting area that over looked the entrance that had been burnt up.

"Should have seen that coming," he said, sitting on a three-person couch, made from airplane seats, in the middle spot. She sat across from him in a two person, matching loveseat.

"Maybe your eyes aren't as good as you thought."

"Man, you're almost too good at that," MacCready leaned back, his sniper rifle lying across his lap. "I liked it better when you apologized."

She had to resist the urge to say sorry. She really wanted to, but as she managed to swallow the need. They sat in silence for a while, listening to the radio drift in from the floor below them. It was just barely audible over the sound of the city, air weaving between the buildings, and the distant sound of gunfire. Madelyn found herself staring off into the night between the buildings toward the car that had blown up. She had all but forgotten the Nuka Cola in her had, so she drank the rest of it and sat the bottle at her side. Gradually the feeling of being watched was too much and she glanced sideways at the sniper.

MacCready was looking at her, his face impossible to read from darkness and it's being stoic, but his eyes were on her. "You stare often?" she asked, using his words from earlier.

The man stretched, his lean arms reaching up high and backward to bend his back. "You just remind me of someone is all."

"Who?" she asked, her brow lifting to show her question.

He paused for a moment, then shook his head, "Just someone. Listen, you should get some rest, it's going to be a long night, and I'll need you up during the day to keep watch." He waved for her to go. "Find a bed, sleep. I'll wake you up when it's your turn."

Madelyn wanted to object, but her tired eyes betrayed her, and a yawn threatened her jaw. She clamped her mouth closed, but her lips fought her. MacCready didn't seem to notice the expression, or if he did he didn't say anything. "Okay," she said and stood. "I'll just be in that room then," she gestured to the closest room. He nodded and moved positions, sitting where she had been, giving him a better view out of the ally.

It didn't take Madelyn long to feel the weight of travel. She'd slept, yeah, but on the ground or in a sleeping bag at best. This was a real bed. Like, lifted from the ground with a clean mattress bed. She slowly stripped off the layers of her Brotherhood Squire's uniform, neatly folding it as she stacked it on the dresser. She remained in her underclothing: a pair of boy shorts underwear and tank top, both army green. Normally being dressed down like this where others could see her didn't bother her as she lived in the barracks and there was no such thing as privacy on the Prydwen. But now she thought about MacCready when he came in to wake her up for her turn to watch. Maybe she could wake up before he came to get her, or she could sleep in her uniform.

No, it was fine, it wasn't like she had anything to hide. He was what? A hand full of years older than her? He'd had to have seen a girl before. Whatever, she shouldn't care.

But she did. And as she lied down on the bed, Madelyn thought about that sniper sitting not twenty feet away, with only a thin wooden wall between them. Somehow, she felt safer now than she had since leaving the Prydwen.

When Madelyn woke she was cuddled against a comfy pillow she didn't remember having when she went to bed. Weird. Where did that come from? She slowly sat up and looked around the room suddenly remembering she where she was and that she was supposed to have been woken up by MacCready so that he could get some rest. The room was well lit from light streaming in from the holes in the walls. It had to be around eight or nine in the morning. Why hadn't he woken her up?

Madelyn rolled out of the bed and started to get dressed but the clothes smelled and she frowned. She needed to clean them. Normally she would have gotten another uniform while this one was sent to the wash room on the Prydwen and cleaned. She hadn't thought this squiring mission through...

A thought occurred to her and she pulled a drawer open. The clothing there was sorted but it was all clothing, nothing armored. Then she opened the second drawer. This one had a drifter's coat and matching wares. Good, they looked like they might be small enough to fit her.

A few moments later and she was rolling up her sleeves and tucking her pant legs into her combat boots. "Awesome," she smiled, looking down at herself. Now for that hair, she reached up trying to take the beast but it refused to follow orders. The whole of her hair was almost as thick as one of her wrists when in a ponytail and right now it was proving to her why she never slept with it lose. "Whatever, I'll just cut you off," she threatened the locks, but she knew better. She loved all of her hair, and the idea of cutting it short, even if that would make it more manageable, was just an empty threat.

Surprisingly no comment came from the other room. Madelyn had imagined that the sniper would have said something witty based on last night's interactions. She peeked her head around the wall that separated the two of them, and tried to locate the man. Light filled the room from the balcony and almost burned her eyes with how much of a change it was to the room she'd been sleeping it, now this room felt rather dim. But she didn't see anyone sitting in the chairs.

"Hey?" she called out softly as pinpricks trickled up her spin, giving her a cold shudder despite the warm morning air. "You there?" Absently she grabbed her ten-millimeter and stepped out of the room.

Madelyn checked the sitting area again and noticed her Nuka Cola bottle was gone, and there was no trace anyone had spent the night out here. With the newfound stress she began chewing on her bottom lip, pulling on the skin, taking off the first few layers with each tug. Where could he have gone? She turned around, making her way up the hall to the other bedrooms. They were each like the one she had slept in, varying only in set up, as each of them had a single bed with one piece of additional furniture. The sitting area here had a red couch sitting across from a blue one with matching chairs on either side making a nice little gathering place. There was also another balcony here with an outdoor sitting space that over looked a table and two chairs from the restaurant downstairs. She looked over the side here, noting the crops in the dirt on the first level. She remembered it being nothing of interest, but that was probably because that level was where all the cooking and farming happened.

Cooking… she smelt something, a fire, and something cooking.

Madelyn's eyebrows pulled together and she tried to find where the smell was coming from. Whatever it was, it was two levels down, so she had to run back to the staircase and go down another level then find a set of stairs to take her to the first floor. Her boots weren't exactly silent, but she did her best on the hollowed sounding wood floor. This place had to be loud when there was a bunch of people walking around.

Hitting the last step on the second floor, Madelyn turned around to find the stairs that would take her down another level, but she froze where she stood. Two Super Mutants were standing in front of the ally, talking to each other about puny humans; neither had noticed her yet. Slowly, she sidestepped. She would go down to the first level at the other end of the complex.

As quietly as she could, Madelyn hugged the wall and snuck to the restaurant side of the floor. The smell of food filled her nose and she winced at the growl of her stomach. She had only had noodles and Nuka Cola yesterday. Damn it, she had to eat something, but those Super Mutants would probably eat her if she didn't do something quick. Slowly, she slipped down the stairs to the first level. The gate on this side had been closed and chained up. When had that happened? She raised a brow at it for a moment, then turned around to look at the first level.

A cooking station was fired up under a concrete overhang that had been converted into a kitchen. A pan was sitting over the fire with a mirelurk egg scrambled up in it cooking. MacCready then stepped into view from where he'd been standing by the wall out of sight at this angle. He pushed the eggs around with a wooden spoon, and then grabbed the pot off the fire with a mitted hand.

Did he even know what was happening? That there were Super Mutants not fifty yards away. "Hey," she called softly, walking up as quietly as she could. He glanced at her, surprised.

He looked exhausted, dark circles under his eyes, and a yawn already parting his lips. He sat the eggs down, "Oh, hey, I was just about to–"

"Shh!" she whisper-shouted and ran over to him. He was talking over his yawn, which made his voice carry.

"What?" he turned around, looking at her with a slightly annoyed expression that was ruined by his droopy eyes that were almost black in how dark they were without sleep.

"There are Super Mutants at the other gate," she whispered and he gave a chuckle, looking away from her. "I'm not kidding," she frowned at him, resisting the urge to slap his arm. The sniper just divided the eggs evenly onto two plates.

"Of course you're not," he sighed and handed her a plate, holding the other in front of him as he leaned over and grabbed his sniper rifle from the corner. She looked at the eggs and then followed behind him as he made his way, not so quietly to the other end of the complex. Was he going to shoot them one handed? Both? Was he nuts?

"What're you doing?"

"I'ma kill me a couple Super Mutants, apparently," he snapped. She paused. They were going to die. What was she supposed to do? Kill them herself with a ten-millimeter? No, but he was defiantly going to get the two of them killed if he didn't just snipe the mutants.

"Hey, can you just–"

"Nope," he turned the corner and lifted his sniper rifle with one arm, supporting it awkwardly against his shoulder. "Hey!" he called and the mutants spun around. One grabbed a pipe rifle, and the other a board. MacCready looked through his scope and then fired in a scary quick action. The bullet flew from the gun as it pushed back against his shoulder, and went right through the mutant's head via his left eye socket. Down went the one with the pipe rifle. "Here, pull that lever back," he turned to her, holding the gun so that she could ready him for another shot. The other Super Mutant cried out, throwing his arms and head back with the sound and then charged them. "Come on, Maddy, I don't wanna spill my eggs."

She frowned at him saying that name, and grabbed the action on his rifle, lifting it up and slinging it back so that the burning shell flung out. Then she pulled it back forward, roughly, and he pulled the gun from her hand, raising it so that it pointed at the mutant's head as it close in on them. The brute's arms were raised with the board behind him read to swing, but MacCready pulled the trigger and the mutant's head snapped back and its body went stiff. He was already leaving, heading upstairs before the body hit the ground. "Great, now I got blood in my eggs."

"Boo hoo," she grunted and holstered her ten-millimeter. Then she walked around the corpses, looking for anything of use. Awkwardly she held the eggs in one hand as she bent down to loot the bodies of ammo and spare caps. She was collecting quiet the purse. She had to be coming up on fifty caps now. Not that she really needed it at the moment, but she hated that Nate had to buy her everything. At least now she could buy something for herself.

By the time she joined the sniper on the third level at the sitting area her eggs were cold and MacCready was asleep. She sat across from him in the two-person couch that had the better view. He was slumped, his long legs stretched out in front of him and his arms limp at his sides, head back and mouth sack. His hat had fallen off, onto the floor behind him. She ate her eggs with her fingers; a leg tucked under her as she looked at him and listened to the music drifting in from downstairs.

Without realizing it, Madelyn was softly singing along with the familiar songs. "…Like the window that shakes the bough, He moves me with a smile, The difficult I'll do right now, The impossible will take a little while…. I say I'll care forever, And I mean forever, If I have to hold up the sky, Crazy, he calls me, Sure I'm crazy, Crazy in love am I…."

Sometimes she missed the Capital Wasteland. The thought always came to her when she was listening to the radio. "Damn, you were much better than this guy, Three Dog," she smiled at the memory of the disc jockey. Songs streamed in with the occasional news update by the sheepish DJ that needed a shot of psycho just to stop his stutter.

Boredom sat in. Madelyn shifted her weight and then lied down on the couch, and then sat back up, and then lied on her stomach, and then her side, and then the floor, and then stood at the balcony looking off into the distance. I Don't Want to Set the World on Fire hummed in the air. She was going to fall asleep if she didn't find something to do.

"How the hell did you stay up all night?" she glanced sideways at the man. He and shifted slightly in his sleep, his head bending to the now, and his arms flopped in his lap which was spread wide because he'd pulled his feet closer to him but his knees were now fanned out. Why hadn't he just gone off to a bed? She frowned and walked over to him, gentle taking hold of his sniper rifle with the intention of moving it off his lap so it wouldn't eventually fall. Big mistake.

MacCready snapped awake the moment the weight of the sniper rifle was lifted from his lap. He grabbed it and had it pointed at her in a swift movement she wasn't prepared for. She kept her fear to herself, and lifted her hands. "Gonna shoot me again?" she asked, raising a brow.

The sniper frowned at her. He'd only had maybe two hours of sleep, but he looked far more rested now. He lowered the weapon and sat it on the ground next to him. Then he rubbed his face, his dirty hands pushing around the sweat and grime that already called that particular part of him home. Then he reached up for the hat that wasn't there and ran his fingers through his greasy hair. It looked like it might be brown, but it was dirty, so she couldn't be sure if it had been blonde at one point and too much abuse had permanently stained it. "It was an accident," he defended himself.

"Doesn't mean you get off easy," she turned away from him and went back to the balcony. Absently she touched the wound on her arm, and then her fingers drifted up to her chin. An old scar resided there, splitting her soft chin at a harsh angle, but years had healed it to a rough, faded line. Not far from it was an old burn that wasn't even noticeable until pointed out on the left, underside of her jaw. This wound had a twin on her forehead just below her hairline, but only her and her brother remembered them now, as the scars were almost indistinguishable from her skin. She thought the freckles she sported helped that, making it hard to focus on the different tones of her skin because of the dots sprinkled across her face, primarily over the bridge of her nose with some paler ones on her forehead and a few that fell below her mouth.

MacCready appeared at her side, standing tall and stretching to get the stiffness out of his muscles from sleeping upright. He let out a grunt and turned around, leaning against a beam to look at her, his arms crossed.

"You should go back to sleep," she said without removing her eyes from the very boring river, visible from here. His eyes remained on her though, and she frowned a little, leaning down against the half wall that kept you from walking right off the balcony. "Thinking about that person I remind you of?"

"Yeah," he breathed, sounding more upset than she expected, and before she could look up at him he was leaving her. He went to the bedroom she'd slept in and she could faintly hear the sound of the springs protest his weight. She felt bad, then, wondering who it was that she looked like that would make him react like that. Probably someone close to him… probably someone who'd died...