The only sound inside the cab of the ruined aircraft is the crunching of chips as MacCready and Willow sit side-by-side with a can of potato crisps between the two of them. Willow sits down in her seat with her knees on the chair in front of her, while MacCready has the window seat so he can keep an eye out for the people they were meant to find out here.
Willow takes another chip and inspects it in the fleeting light of dusk which filters through the windows and various holes in the body of the plane. She glances to MacCready from the side of her eye, who presently holds his focus outside as he scans the landscape.
She feels terrible for snapping at him earlier. Truthfully, she feels as though she doesn't always know how to act around people. She has been on her own for so long; she didn't realize her emotions could be so volatile. But by some miracle, MacCready has been exceedingly patient with her and she really is grateful for that – for him. She looks forward again and chews her lip.
"Hey, Mac..." she says softly, keeping her voice low. MacCready perks and glances toward her.
"What's up?" he asks. She squirms a bit in her seat uncomfortably and swallows.
"I just..." she begins, unable to meet his eyes, "I just wanted to say... I'm sorry for snapping at you earlier."
MacCready tilts his head and regards her quizzically. "It's fine." he reassures her with a small chuckle. "I'm..." he hesitates as if it's physically hard for him to say the words, "... sorry for prying."
His effort is not lost on Willow, who finally looks to him. The way the light catches his eyes only exaggerates how blue they are, and Willow almost feels as though she could get lost in his gaze. Her fingers curl inward slightly, and she is a little disappointed when he turns his head away again to check out the window. "I just feel like I don't really know anything about you, y'know?" he speaks, though as he says the words he doesn't really understand why he has said them, or why he even cares so much. He opens his mouth to dismiss what he's just said, but before he can say anything else, he is surprised to hear Willow speak up first.
"Well... What do you want to know?"
Her words are cautious, hesitant. MacCready turns back to her and looks her up and down. She looks nervous as she picks at her nails then wipes chip crumbs off of her coat. He narrows his eyes slightly, contemplating what to ask her, but Willow decides he is taking too long and begins speaking.
"I grew up in Diamond City." she says, her eyes fixed to the chair in front of her. "Was a loner there, too. Never felt like I fit in anywhere."
MacCready is watching her intently now, and he feels soft in that moment as Willow seems to open up to him. She continues, "I ran away from home when I was a teenager. My parents really sucked and I had no friends so I just... saw no reason to stick around."
"They sucked?" MacCready asks softly.
"Yeah. I don't really feel like getting into it right now, but they just..." she chuckles pathetically, "sucked."
MacCready frowns. "Well then screw them." he says in support of her decision to leave, and Willow smiles.
"Yeah. Screw them." she says, and then becomes hyper-aware of the fact that her arm is now brushing against MacCready's. She doesn't move – she doesn't want to.
The mercenary is thoughtfully quiet for a moment, then he asks, "What about the girl on the poster?"
Willow pauses and MacCready can tell she seems to be carefully choosing what to say. "She was..." she begins, eyes narrowing. "She was a... friend. One of the only people who really got me."
"Was?" MacCready asks, aware that he is pushing his luck now but he is curious to see how far Willow will go with what she is willing to share. "Your list... Is it for her?"
Willow doesn't answer. Her eyes flick to MacCready and he knows by her look that he has gone too far, so he withdraws and makes a show of sitting back in his seat, eyes once again out the window.
A few minutes of silence pass, then MacCready breaks it with a scoff. "God. I have that stupid song stuck in my head." he says. Willow is immediately thankful for the lighthearted change in topic and she straightens, eyebrow raising slightly.
"What song?" she asks bemusedly.
"You know, that one that raider was singing." MacCready says. "Remember? Lay that pistol down, babe – or whatever."
Willow laughs, the sound warm. "We're a rough rootin' tootin' shootin' trio, but you oughta meet our sister Cleo!" she sings out quietly, her singing voice pitchy but MacCready can't help but to smile anyway.
"Stop, you're making it worse!" he accuses lightheartedly, and Willow giggles.
"No shit, that's the point."
"God, I miss the radio in the Capital." he muses lowly. "The music here isn't anywhere near as good, and Three Dog..." he shakes his head, "He's way better than that crap host Diamond City Radio has."
"What?" Willow sits up further, "You don't like T-T-Travis Lonely M-Miles?" she mocks the radio host, which pulls a chuckle from MacCready.
"Ah, er, um... erm..." MacCready replies, joining Willow in the mockery, and she laughs. But her face turns serious suddenly and she slaps MacCready's chest with the back of her hand, her eyes wide as she looks out the window.
"There!" she whispers, and MacCready turns to see a small group of raiders walking toward the plane. There are five total, and the one in front is noticeably more decked out in gear than the others. He leans back in his seat and Willow does the same, then she ducks and climbs out of her chair to move to the one in front of MacCready, affording her her own window.
"I'm surprised that junkie was telling the truth..." MacCready remarks lowly as he carefully reaches for his sniper rifle. He's nervous that they'll get too close and spot them, but thankfully they stop a ways away from the wreckage.
A short time later, a large man emerges, approaching from the North-East. He is accompanied by two heavily armed guards, though he is imposing enough that he likely doesn't even need the added henchmen to get what he wants from people. The sight of him makes Willow sick, and MacCready regards her briefly through the crack between the wall and the seat in which she sits.
"Is that him?" he asks. "Pigeon?"
"Yes." Willow replies uneasily. She can tell it is him by the scar tissue which adorns half of his face. "That's him."
MacCready assesses the scene, squinting into the darkening landscape. He is afraid to bring up his binoculars in case the light from the sunset catches them, so he decides not to chance it. Even without the binoculars, though, his eyesight is good.
"How's your range?" he asks Willow, and she shifts in her seat.
"Not great." she admits finally. "This is too far away."
MacCready's brow creases as he thinks. "I can probably get a few of them from here before they have a chance to get behind the rocks." he suggests, "Might lure some of them closer."
Willow chews her lip for a moment, then grabs her lazer rifle. "You stay here and snipe them." she says. "I'll go down there and see about getting at them from a closer range." It doesn't seem like too bad a plan – there are plenty of rocks and debris which Willow feels she can use for cover. Still, it makes MacCready feel uneasy, and Willow can see his reluctance when she turns back to look at him. "If we try to draw them here we're at a disadvantage. They probably know this area better than us, know how to sneak up on us."
She's right, and MacCready knows it. He heaves a quiet sigh and nods. "Alright." he says. "Just... Be careful." he stresses then moves to assume position. "I have your back."
Willow grins. "I know you do." she says, and pats his shoulder on her way by him. Something about the words, her touch, makes MacCready freeze for a moment. But he snaps out of it quickly and shakes his head in performative annoyance, aiming his rifle and readying a shot on one of Pigeon's guards.
He waits until Willow is in position, hidden behind a rock cut in the shallow valley, and then he squeezes the trigger. The bullet catches the guard in the neck and he clutches his wound, gurgling as he very quickly bleeds out. Immediately, everybody is on high alert, and MacCready draws in a sharp breath as he reloads quickly and aims his next shot.
"The fuck is this?!" Pigeon bellows at the raiders, assuming it was an attack facilitated by them. He draws his own gun – a modded submachinegun – and makes the rash decision to open fire on the raiders, downing two of their men instantaneously. MacCready grins to himself at the way they turn on each other, and goes for the second guard before they can take cover from each other.
Willow is equally amused, and she darts through the elongated shadows granted by the setting sun to get into a better position. From there, she kneels and takes a shot at one of the raiders. Much to her satisfaction, she gets him in his chest and he crumbles quickly. Though what she failed to consider was that neither Pigeon or his remaining guard have any energy weapons on them...
Unfortunately for Willow, the raiders and Pigeon both notice this, and the boss is quick to spot her where she is behind her rock. "Looks like we have company!" he says, and like that, the groups are united again and hellbent on taking down a common enemy: Willow.
Willow's eyes widen, but she grits her teeth and digs her heels in. She can hear another gunshot, and she watches as Pigeon's remaining guard stumbles backward, bullet hole in his stomach. But he is still standing, and he quickly pulls Pigeon down behind a rock when he realizes that Willow is not alone.
"Girl's got a friend!" Pigeon warns the raiders, though his warnings fall on deaf ears as the larger raider and his underling rush Willow.
Willow steps back, skilfully dodging an attempted melee attack from the smaller raider. "Ha! Fuck you!" she says, then fires at him and blows a chunk out of his side. He cries out in pain and grips himself, and Willow squeezes the trigger, the next beam of lazer energy even hotter than the first one. The smell is sickening as the ray hits the raider and he immediately burns up into a pile of ash, dusting the larger raider as what remains of him scatters in the wind.
MacCready frowns, his body tense as he watches the scene from where he is inside the plane. He can no longer see Pigeon or his guard – only Willow and the raider boss. Quickly he fires on the raider to give Willow some help, but in his haste he only manages to hit the man in his shoulder which does little against his armour. "Crap..." he mutters to himself and reloads.
No matter, Willow thinks. She jumps backward, away from the man as he closes in on her and she grips her rifle in her hand. It is hot and the metal burns her fingers but she fires it anyway – and yelps when it explodes in her grasp.
MacCready's head snaps up at the sound, eyes wide as he searches the darkness for Willow. Thankfully, she had been able to pull her hand away in time to minimize damage to herself but she is still burnt – and worse, her gun is toast. She grits her teeth through the pain, and the raider laughs at her and cocks his own gun.
Willow looks to the smoking, burnt up husk of her once beloved lazer rifle and does the first thing she can think to do as the raider lifts his weapon – she throws the scrap metal at his face. It hits him with a satisfying thunk and causes him to misfire. An imperious cackle leaves her lips and she hurries for her switchblade, but his head explodes before she has a chance to use it, spattering her with blood and viscera which she doesn't seem to mind as she laughs out in triumph.
Meanwhile, Pigeon and his guard have deduced that the sniper must be in the airplane. So, while Willow has been dealing with the raiders on the ground, Pigeon's guard has hit himself with a Stimpak and then crept around the plane to sneak inside. He makes it there undetected thanks to MacCready's focus on Willow, and now he can see him where he perches and waits for someone to shoot at.
The guard smirks to himself and draws his pistol as he slowly closes in on MacCready. As he draws nearer, he clicks the safety on his gun off, and MacCready inhales sharply at the sound before he turns and rolls out of the path of the man's bullet just in time for it to miss and hit wall where his head once was.
MacCready is spry as he leaps to his feet and sprints at the guard; and though he is quite a bit smaller than the muscular man, he catches him by surprise and takes him to the ground where he manages to wrestle the pistol from his hands and fire a bullet into his skull. Immediately afterwards, he hears the gut-wrenching sound of Willow shrieking so he scampers to his feet and hurries back to his perch–
–Just in time to see Pigeon slamming Willow against the rock wall. He is at least three times the size of her and overpowers her rather easily. He has her disarmed, and though she lifts her legs and kicks at him wildly he effortlessly continues his assault on her. MacCready hurries for his gun but he doesn't have the opportunity to use it, as Pigeon tosses Willow quite roughly behind the rock wall and then disappears behind it himself.
MacCready can't remember the last time he ran so fast. He leaps over debris as he rushes through the plane, and another choked string of expletives from Willow has him moving even faster as adrenaline courses through him. He has her back – that's what he told her. He can't let her down. He won't let her down.
When he rounds the wall, he sees Pigeon on top of Willow, one large hand wrapped around her throat while the other snakes beneath her shirt. Her legs thrash wildly as she attempts to buck him off of her and she grips his wrist so hard her fingernails cut into his skin, but Pigeon laughs and licks his lips. "Don't act like you don't like this. You probably don't get this kind of attention from many men." he mewls as Willow gasps for air. Her grip weakens on his arm as he begins to grind against her. "You'll make such a good—"
Thwap. The butt of MacCready's rifle collides violently with the side of his head, which stuns him and knocks him off of Willow. Willow gasps for air as she scuttles backward, away from Pigeon, and watches MacCready kick him back down as he tries to get up. He's trying to hard not to kill him – he knows Willow wants to be the one to do it. But God damn, if he isn't seeing red...
Willow can see his self-restraint and knows she has to act quickly if she wants this done her way, so she drags herself to the body of the other guard nearby and pulls his pistol from its' holster. She wants so badly to make Pigeon suffer. To watch the horror in his eyes as he realizes he is going to die. She wants him to fear her in his final moments, but there is just no time. So she crawls over and does the next best thing: she unloads the clip from the pistol into his chewed up face until he is unrecognizable. Then, she drops the gun and falls onto her butt and scoots back against the rocks as she draws in raspy, shallow breaths.
MacCready rushes to her side and drops to a knee. "Are you alright?!" he asks, a look of sincere concern on his face as he reaches out and pulls back her jacket to check her for cuts or bulletholes or lacerations. Willow can't really speak, so she just works on getting her breath back and lets MacCready fret over her. He grabs at her chin and tilts her head up to look at the nasty bruising that is already forming where Pigeon's hand had been. And he frowns, withdrawing his hand but not before he wipes away a smear of blood from Willow's face with his sleeve.
"I'm sorry. That other guard tried to get the drop on me, and I lost sight of you and..." MacCready tries to explain, but he trails off when he looks up and sees Willow grinning at him. His brow furrows. "... What?" he asks.
Willow lifts a shaky hand and gives him a thumbs up. "We got him." she rasps, and MacCready pauses, sighs, and then shakes his head with a small smile.
"We did." he agrees softly.
With MacCready's help, Willow stands and drags her feet over to where she had dropped her bag. She grabs her canteen and chugs its' contents. "One left." she remarks breathlessly afterwards, water dribbling down her face, and her voice is hoarse but she is in good spirits regardless.
MacCready smirks arrogantly. "Not for long." he says, and Willow's grin widens.