A/N: Time to get drunk again? I think so.
Being drunk: check. Stories about the past: check.
Alright, we're good to go.
17. Drunk Stories
MacCready POV
House of the Rising Sun by The Animals
We ended up spending a couple more nights in Sanctuary as Beth sorta "recuperated" from her visit to 111. In this time, we also managed to take Nate's body to the surface and give him a proper burial. She told herself she wouldn't cry—and I was actually surprised she didn't. I was proud of her.
Once we got him settled, and made sure Gravy Boat and Company was established as well, we took off to head home. As we now sit in College Square Station, I find myself at the end of possibly the worst whiskey I've ever had.
"You sure you feel okay?" Beth asks me. "If it wasn't good, you shouldn't have drank it. I could've gotten you a better bottle at Diamond City."
"It wasn't so much for the taste as it was for the semi-quick means of getting drunk." My words slur quite a bit as I speak—more than I would have imagined, since I feel relatively sober. I gesture around us. "The metro, the ghouls—brought back some not-so-great memories."
I see realization hit her face. "Ah, I see…" She looks away. "You should've said something before."
"Like I knew," I snap before apologizing immediately. "Sorry," I say with a sigh. She grins sympathetically.
"C'mere." I scoot my way over to her on the floor, then she pats her lap. Looking at her with confusion, she clarifies, "Put your head there." I silently obey despite my curiosity. She takes my hat and sets it to the side, as she runs her fingers through my hair in a loving way. "It's getting pretty late. Maybe you should get some sleep, yeah?"
"Yeah," I say with a yawn. Didn't even feel tired a minute ago…
As I continue to lay here—Beth still soothing the tension from my scalp—I can't help my mind from running away from me:
Why is it so comforting to have someone playing with your hair? Like, is it a natural thing, or a learned thing?
I know I've always loved it—it's always been relaxing for me. Like when Lucy used to do it.
So, does that mean it's normal for girls to do this? Why is it so alluring to play with a guy's hair?
Jeez, Lucy used to do this even when we were kids. Well, pretty much kids. Thirteen and fourteen are kid ages, right?
Man, that was a long time ago. Seems like yesterday at the same time. Strange how time is like that.
Has it really been that long? Wasn't even a couple years after that Duncan was born. Never would have thought that'd happen.
Shi—shoot, never would have thought we'd end up married. What were the chances of that, huh? A snob mayor like me, with a smart doctor like her? No way in hell.
And what even made her leave Lamplight with me? She still had a while, but she went with me to Big Town anyway.
What drove us out again? Oh, yeah. The fact that that annoying cun—I mean, meathead, Sticky, wouldn't leave us alone for the better part of the first week there. Gah, he was so annoying. Why was he not that annoying in Lamplight? He just had to wait, didn't he, until we were in Big Town.
I suddenly think of the scar on the right side of my ribcage. He wouldn't leave it alone after he saw it on accident that one morning. Man, he was the worst.
I begin to think of that scar in more detail, how I received it. "Man, I was lucky."
"Oh, jeez! Scare me, why don't you!" Beth exclaims. "I thought you were asleep."
I laugh lightly. "Nah, just thinking. That feels really good, by the way," I comment on her petting my head still.
"Okay," she laughs and continues doing it. "So, what were you thinking about to scare me so much?"
"Just my scar."
"You have a scar?" she asks.
"Of course," I respond. "Practically everybody out here has at least one. Some more than others, but usually, they're for different reasons."
She thinks for a second. "So, how'd you get yours?"
Keeping my head in place, I go to unbutton my duster and shirt. Once my torso is exposed, I point solely from memory to where it is. "Cave-in." She inspects it closer, stopping her hair-playing for a minute. When she leans back and resumes, I button my shirt up and explain.
"I would say I was about… thirteen, almost fourteen when we were near Murder Pass and we heard a rumbling within the rocks. It was pretty normal for the cave to be making noises, so nobody was alarmed—at first. Then, rocks started to fall from the ceiling. Small ones, but still. Turns out, a Vertibird crashed on the surface and knocked some of the ground loose. So, yes. That's why I don't like Vertibirds…" I just know that's what she's thinking.
"Anyway… the rocks that were falling started to get a little bigger. Then, boom! A whole bunch of the ceiling falls. I managed to knock some of the kids out of the way, including Lucy." Beth's face shifts as she wasn't expecting Lucy to be mentioned. "Somehow, I managed to get covered in the rubble. Like, covered. One particularly large rock fell straight onto my ribs—broke, I think she said seven? Anyway, one ended up puncturing my lung. A couple kids—Knick Knack and Eclair—carried me back to Lucy's office where she treated me. She had to cut me open a bit—leaving this scar—in order to get the broken rib out of my lung. Nothing a couple Stimpaks couldn't help, obviously. But if no one else was there, I would've died. She and I got a lot closer after that happened."
"Well, that's believable. I mean, she saved your life." She seems eager to hear more, but doesn't push it. She deserves to know. She's told me about Nate, and… I think I'm actually ready to talk about her.
"I wish you could meet her," I say, surprising Beth. "You two would have gotten along really well.
"She had this personality that people were just drawn to. Nice, but able to defend her loved ones—fierce, yet the most delicate flower somehow at the same time. She was the best mother. Neither of us was really expecting that—but now, looking back, we should have. She was practically the mother of Little Lamplight. But, you know, kids in general and your kids are two very different things. And since Duncan was a surprise, we didn't know what to expect. I sure as hell didn't expect to love him as much as I do. Kids, especially babies, always drove me nuts. So, here we were thinking the worst—that we'd both be horrible at the whole raising a kid thing. That's not exactly the most encouraging train of thought for parents-to-be, especially since I was only sixteen, and she fifteen.
"But when he came, we both fell so hard for him. It was really a shocker that I did, though. I'd heard that your opinion on kids change once you have your own, but I never believed it until then. He was like this small, little miracle—an actual human being I helped create with the person I loved. It was the best feeling in the world. To hold him in my arms that first time… There are no words for it."
"I understand," Beth chimes in. "There is nothing better than the feeling of knowing you're a parent."
"Nothing," I agree. "But, yeah. You'd love her."
She seems to sense my willingness to talk about her, so she prompts, "What did she look like?"
I think for a second with my eyes closed, trying to remember exactly, and being bothered by the fact that it takes so long. "Um, she had brown hair and hazel eyes. Skin maybe just a smidge darker than mine. Her actual name was Lucia, but she went by Lucy—I guess she came from a Latin heritage or something.
"She was under Red's guidance before she left for Big Town, so she learned all her medical stuff from her. She made some kind of Buffout extract that was this miracle drug for us. Of course, Kate supplied all the Buffout in trade for some cave fungus—it had anti-radiation qualities to it, so it came in handy for her."
"How did you two get together?" she asks. "I mean, you clearly knew each other from a young age. Just, what happened to make it happen?"
"I think it started when the cave-in happened, at least for me. She told me she liked me before then, but I'm not sure—she was pretty distant for the longest time. It wasn't until then that she actually started talking to me on a regular basis.
"Due to the puncture, it was hard for me to walk for a day or two, so I just stayed in her office, healing. Even Stimpaks were slow to completely seal it. She didn't have any other duties, so she stayed in her office with me—catching up on a bit of paperwork, or just tidying her files. This was when we started to really talk.
"We were both just really bored. We talked about nothing in particular really, just small talk. Somehow, we ended up together by the end of the week. Since I hadn't been mayor for a good year at this point, I had a lot of spare time. Biwwy took care of the kids since becoming mayor, but I helped occasionally with the front gate's security. When I wasn't doing that, and Lucy was able to leave the doctor's office, we'd run away to a remote corner of the caverns.
"We'd just sit around, getting drunk on Knick Knack's booze, or we'd just take the longest nap together… And maybe some non-nap stuff…" Beth giggles.
I continue, "When I was fifteen, I decided to leave Lamplight, and she went with me. I never could understand why, though—the others needed her, she was the only doctor, and she still had almost another two years down there. But she went with me to Big Town anyway. Wasn't even a month later and we left there, too. It wasn't exactly what we were expecting and we wanted to see what else the world had to offer—so away we went.
"Several months later, we figured out she was pregnant. We didn't know what to do. We had ended up settling not too far from Arefu, so at least there were other people near us. But still.
"Fast forward a few years after Duncan was born, we still had that house, but we'd heard about a place called Girdershade. We heard there were a couple people living there, and that it was an okay place to live. We never actually found it, but instead found Warrington Station. That was the mistake—there were tons of ferals in there…
"We were just looking around the metro—it was completely silent. Then I heard them…" Beth pats my chest encouragingly. At this point, I'd completely forgotten I'm still laying on her lap. I take a deep breath and continue.
"She was holding Duncan on her hip and I was on her left, sandwiching him between us. Not one, but five ferals come charging from our blind spot on her right. One tackles her, knocking not only her, but me and Duncan to the ground, like dominoes. I'm never going to be able to lose the memory of her as it—" I stop myself, closing my eyes. She gets the point. "Well, anyway… She dropped Duncan." I clear my throat. "I'm shocked I had the instinct to grab him and get up and start running. I wished there was something I could have done—there has been so many nights that I regret that instinct—but I know now that it was already too late, and I'm glad I grabbed him and ran. We'd be dead too right now otherwise." I feel that was an abrupt stop to the retelling, but I don't know how else to continue.
She sighs. "I can't even imagine it."
"Well, you kinda can," I argue.
"Yes… but no, not really. He was there one second, gone the next. With her, it wasn't… quick… I'm sorry."
"You have no reason to be. It's been four years. What's done is done. You weren't even out yet."
"I know, but… still." We're both silent for a few minutes and I can't help but to wonder what she's thinking. I find out when she speaks, changing the subject. "Well, we're about halfway home. What're we gonna do when we get there?"
"Whatever you want." I notice my slurring has decreased drastically from the beginning of my stories to now.
"I can't think of anything. I guess it'll be a surprise, huh?"
And how right she was.
After walking through the front door of our house, I hear, "What took you two so long?"
I put myself between Beth and the mysterious voice coming from the living room. Moving quickly but quietly, I peek around the corner and groan. "What are you doing here, Deacon?"
"Deacon?" Beth questions and moves around me to gaze upon our home invader. "What are you doing here?"
"You guys literally just asked the exact same question. Can't be more original?" He stands up from one of the armchairs and strolls toward us. Glancing around, he says, "You have a nice house here. The Atom Cats did a good job." He looks at Beth. "Nice arrangement with the furniture." He looks to me. "Nice location. The west side of the island—can't argue with that view." How does he know all this?!
"I don't even wanna know how you know what you do. But I am curious," I motion to the door. "How'd you get in at least?"
"Bobby pins are handy—even for the bald, my friend." He takes off what has been a wig this entire time and throws it into the chair he was sitting in. "Most people won't even come out here, and for the few that would," he jams a thumb to his chest, "locks aren't very efficient. Might as well keep it unlocked, amigo."
"So, you haven't answered our unoriginal question," Beth points out. "Why are you here? I thought you were headed back to HQ."
"Uh, I did go to HQ. Like, two days ago. Dropped off the prototype—by the way, Dez thought it was cool of you to help—and came here. I figured you guys'd be home. But nooo. Gotta leave ole Deacs by himself for a whole day in an unfamiliar place. How rude." As I'm about to protest, he raises his hands. "Just kidding, twiggers. Calm down… Oh, yeah." He moves to the kitchen, leaving our confused expressions behind. "Tom wanted me to give you guys this for the help." He comes back with a suspicious looking dish in his hands. "He calls it 'meat pie.' I don't even know what's in it," he admits. "But it's good. He makes it all the time, so we had leftovers for days—weeks even."
Beth steps forward and looks at the 'pie' closer. "So, we risk our lives to help, and he gives us leftovers? Not even nice enough to bake a fresh one? Now that's rude." She takes it from him and smells it. "Smells alright. And just in time: I'm hungry."
"You're seriously gonna eat that?" I ask her.
"Well, yeah." She puts it down on the counter and grabs a knife. "If you don't want any, more for me." She looks back with a devilish grin.
"Ugh. Fine." I walk into the kitchen from the living room and stand by her as she cuts and serves me a small bowl of the funky food. As she grabs her own bowl, we walk back into the living room and sit on the couch.
"Hey, Deacon. There's drinks in this cabinet, if you want any." He hops right to her suggestion, mouthing, Thanks. Grabbing a chair from the dining table, he drags it into the living room, and sits opposite us next to the cabinet. "Out of all the chairs in this room…" Beth mutters with a mouthful of pie.
"Well, yeah. You guys just had to sit with your faces against the wall." He takes a drink from his glass of vodka.
"Well excuse us for being used to eating together," I spit at him. Beth nudges me.
"Play nice, boys." Even though she is talking to both of us, she's only looking at me. To further ensure I act my age and not my shoe size, she shoves a spoon of pie in my face, then we all sit in silence as we nurse our consumables.
After Deacon's sixth shot of vodka, he comments, "You two have nice chemistry. Lucky bastards."
"I'm sure you'll find someone, Deacon," Beth encourages.
"I already did." He sets the bottle down after preparing a seventh shot. Taking it, he continues, "So, I'm done with that whole thing."
"I didn't know you had a partner," I say.
"Most people don't. I like to keep it that way—nice and distant. Why bring it up, right?"
"But, you just did," Beth states.
"Oops." He sets his glass down on the cabinet next to him.
"You shouldn't be ashamed to talk about them," I chime in.
"I'm not ashamed to talk about her. I just prefer not to." He points at me. "You should know what I'm talking about." He can't mean… "Makes me miss her. So, there wasn't no point in bringing up my dead wife, okay?" A second later, "Maybe we should start a loss-of-spouse counselling group, since we've all gone through it."
Beth and I are speechless as he continues. "I lie about everything—sometimes, even I believe my own lies and it scares me. But I guess that's why I'm a fraud—so nobody I care about will get hurt. It's hard to find out who to kill when you don't even know who you're hurting."
I can't help but to feel bad for him. Have I been too harsh on him? He didn't deserve it, did he? Maybe he's so cautious and learns things about people as a way to protect himself. Even though it seemed like he didn't want to continue, the alcohol in his system forces him to jump into the rabbit hole.
"I used to run with a gang. We called ourselves the University Point Deathclaws. We'd go around and accuse people of being synths, and kill any ones we thought were. It was just something to do." He notices Beth's face. "Yeah, I know. Crazy to be on both ends of the spectrum, right? But it makes sense in a little bit.
"So, we found somebody one day we thought was a synth and killed them. Turns out, they weren't and we'd just committed murder. I didn't like that, so I left. Fast forward a year, and I met Barbara. We lived on a farm, and was planning on starting a family. But here come the 'Claws. They had found out something both Barb and I didn't know—she was a Gen 3 synth.
"So, they killed her. Right then and there—right in front of me. I had to kill them, of course. So, in my enraged anger, I slaughtered them like the animals there were. A few months later, the Railroad found me. They somehow knew about what happened. Ever since then, I swore I'd stay true to their cause of helping free synths. For my conscience, for Barbara. Every synth deserves a chance to experience more than just pain and trauma and fear. If anything, she taught me that.
"Crazy, but it was a synth that showed me what being human was like. A synth. I've been trying to find my human side again ever since that day. Maybe you two can help me, maybe that's why I came here." He scrunches his brows over his sunglasses. "I guess that's why I'm here, why I like to follow you." He shrugs. "I don't know anymore—I'm tired."
Beth pulls on my arm to stand. "Here," she says. "You can sleep here tonight, and head out in the morning if you want." She gives me her now empty bowl and points to the kitchen as she unfolds the blanket from the back of the couch. As I come back from placing the bowls in the sink, I see Deacon laying on the couch with the blanket on him.
"Thank you, guys." He looks at me. "I can tell you don't like me, Robert. And that's fine, I understand. But you're a great guy. I just want you to know that." For the very first time since meeting him, he takes off his sunglasses and lays them on the side table. Beth looks at me with eyes bigger than mutfruits and her jaw extremely slack. I didn't expect that, her face says.
As dumbfounded as I am from our unintended houseguest, I tug on Beth's arm until she follows me upstairs to get ready for bed, as it had become night rather quickly. Once we're sitting on the edge of the bed, taking our boots off, she whispers, "What just happened?"
"I don't even know," I whisper back, trying to wrap my head around today's events. A minute later, while we're laying face-to-face, I sheepishly admit, "You know… he's not too bad." She laughs quietly.
"I know," she retorts. "Never thought he was. You've just been jealous."
"Jealous!" I say a bit too loudly. Quieting down, I repeat, "Jealous?"
"Yeah," she giggles again. "I could see it from the moment we met him."
"You're making that up," I try to deflect.
"Nah," she shakes her head. "You have nothing to worry about. You know you're my favourite. So, there's no competition for you to be worrying about, babe." My eyebrows shoot up. Babe? I wonder.
When we wake in the morning, we find a note—in very clear handwriting:
Thanks for your hospitality, guys.
Sorry about the onslaught of gloom last night. I don't know what hit me. Interesting vodka you have there—is it tainted? lol jk
Anyway… I'm sure I'll be seeing you around. Stay safe until then. I swear, if I have to jump in and save you two from a mole rat brood next week, there will be hell to pay. (Or caps. I take caps as payment, too. I like caps.)
-D