MacCready's chest feels hollow. There is nothing inside of him except the cold, crushing feeling of pure dread. He stares down the tunnel, down the tracks, but he cannot see anything. He can only hear the snarling and strangled shouting of feral ghouls as their voices and footsteps bounce off the stone walls and rapidly grow louder and louder.

"Robert!" a panicked voice calls out, and the sound sends pain shooting from his heart to his stomach. That's her: that's his beautiful Lucy. He tries to turn toward her, but it is like he is wading through thick honey and every movement is disorienting as the walls spin around him. By the time he finally faces her, it is far too late. Ghouls have swarmed her, and her limbs flail about as the sound of ripping flesh and anguished screams fill the room.

MacCready's eyes are wide with fear, but then he feels something in his arms. He looks down, and instead of his rifle he holds a baby boy, bundled up and wailing. Duncan. He looks back up at Lucy fearfully, and she locks eyes with him. "Run!" she begs, and suddenly he is turning and taking off down the tracks and up the platform. But he can't find the door. He can never find the God damn door, and panic mounts inside him as the sound of snarling ghouls and Lucy's screams and Duncan's cries become unbearably suffocating.

And then, there is silence. MacCready freezes, shoulders heaving as he catches his breath. He turns slowly and looks back down to the tracks, where he no longer sees any ghouls. He hesitates a moment, and then steps forward, failing to notice that he is no longer holding Duncan as he approaches the body of his dear beloved.

Except when he reaches her – when he looks down at her bloodied body – he doesn't see his beautiful Lucy. He sees Willow; Willow, and her lifeless green eyes staring up at him in horror, face twisted in agony. He drops to his knees and pulls her into his lap as tears fall from his eyes. "No..." he rasps and shakes his head frantically. "No, no, no... I... Willow, please wake up, I'm sorry..."

Suddenly, all of the sound in the room returns with a yet unmatched intensity, and once more, he can hear the sound of ghouls approaching, and Duncan's pained cries somewhere just out of reach.

MacCready shouts as he lurches forward to a sitting position on the couch, eyes wide with fear. He clutches his chest and gradually begins to realize he is not in a ghoul-infested metro station in the Capital Wasteland, but rather, he is in a dusty old house in the Commonwealth. Sunlight pours through the windows, and MacCready is relieved when he peers outside from where he sits on the couch and spots Willow sitting in a chair on the front porch, smoking a cigarette. She's safe. He's safe. Everything is okay, and his heartbeat slows as he relaxes and recovers from the nightmare he'd just had.

It isn't the first time he's had that nightmare in particular. But never before has he seen someone else's corpse laying on those tracks. Until now, it has always just been Lucy – the only woman he has ever really loved.

But he finds himself now staring out at the porch and watching Willow as she stretches her back and then leans forward in an old, wicker chair. She doesn't turn to look through the window though MacCready almost expects her to; instead, she settles back in the chair and brings her knees to her chest, then rests her chin on her knees and stares out at the ruined landscape before her.

He turns his head and admires the mess they had made of the livingroom. Sticky, damp spots litter the wood floor where alcohol had spilled from their cups. The furniture is completely rearranged, with the coffee table pushed against the second couch and tucked back into a corner to make room for the giant, entirely out-of-place kitchen table which they'd dragged haphazardly into the livingroom. MacCready smiles fondly as he spots his clothes, folded neatly atop the coffee table and accompanied by a muffin, leftover from their breakfast the day prior. As he stands and stretches and wanders over, he wonders how Willow is doing after the events of last night.

He recalls the way her hand had lingered around his collar that morning, and how she had looked so radiant dancing about in the kitchen. He remembers even before then, how truly and deeply concerned she had been for him after he'd been torn up by the assaultron, or the feeling of her gripping his arm as they wrestled on their way to the interchange. He can still picture the way her choppy, black hair bounced so vivaciously in the wind as she danced before the crowd at Bunker Hill, and though she didn't have a clue what she was doing, her energy and her smile were enough to light up that entire God damn settlement.

And, of course, he thinks of how nice it had felt to hold her last night. How his hands had fit so perfectly around her waist; the warmth of her body on top of him and those pale, green eyes of hers which make him feel like he can just forget his troubles for a while.

But then, he remembers how hurt she had been when he rejected her advances, and how her mood had shifted so drastically when she'd learned he had been married. That he'd had a wife. That he is taken.

Or... was taken.

MacCready realizes he has been staring at the wall now for entirely too long, and he blinks several times before he grabs his clothes and wanders off to get changed and ready for the day.

Outside, Willow hugs her knees and watches as Maggie balances atop a few scrap pieces of plywood left outside on the porch. She has her arms out to her sides and her tongue out, and in that moment, she looks so childish and carefree that it reminds Willow that she really is just a girl. And she will be forever. And maybe, she thinks, that's okay. Maybe the world is too cruel for someone like Maggie; maybe this is all for the best after all. At least, Willow thinks, Maggie has her. And as long as she does, Willow will care for her no matter the cost.

Her gaze falls languidly to Maggie's feet, though she isn't really paying attention to her surroundings as thoughts of last night swirl within her skull. Finally, she frowns and blows air from her nose.

"I'm a monster." she whispers, and Maggie's feet still and then pivot toward Willow as the girl looks her over.

"Huh?" she asks, her voice surprisingly gentle, and Willow closes her eyes.

She draws in a shaky breath and hugs her knees even tighter. Her voice falls to a whisper, "Last night, I... When... When MacCready told me about his wife... H-How she was... dead..." she pauses, swallows, then continues, "... my first thought was to be... happy."

Maggie is quiet for a moment, and Willow nearly opens her eyes to make sure she hasn't disappeared, but she speaks up before she has to.

"So?" she says simply, and then Willow's eyes flutter open.

"So? What do you mean, 'so'?!" she scoffs. "That's... That's a horrible thing to think, is it not?!"

"Eh," Maggie shrugs, "Not really. I mean, you obviously have a crush on him, right?" she smiles mischievously and leans forward. "MacCready and Willow, sitting in a tree—"

"Stop." Willow says firmly, and Maggie's head tilts back as her sickly sweet laughter fills the morning air.

"Alright, alright. But listen!" she hops off the plank she'd been balancing on and steps to Willow. "I think he's got feelings for you, too. So you just gotta work extra hard to make him forget all about his stupid dead wife and convince him you're the only one who matters to him now."

Maggie is grinning with excitement, as if she is concocting some master matchmaking plan, but Willow shakes her head quickly and averts her gaze. "No, I..." she squeezes her eyes shut again and her brow creases. Her head aches, her stomach aches, her heart aches, but, "I can't. I don't want to overstep. I don't... I don't know that he's ready to move on yet, y'know? Or... That he ever will be. And... I have to be okay with that."

The child's lip curls as she watches Willow, then she rolls her eyes. "Ahh," she blows a raspberry then turns to leap back onto her plank, "He's gotta move on eventually."

"It doesn't matter." Willow chuckles bitterly, "As soon as we get him that cure, he's gonna go back to the Capital and I'll probably... never see him again." As she says the words she tries to sound nonchalant to convince herself that she's okay with the prospect. She knew it would be the case as soon as she offered to help him acquire the medicine. She'd already made a plan to take the caps he had given back to her and use them to hire Edwin when he and Sadie return to the Commonwealth, and she has been telling herself that if Sadie tags along it could be just as fun and just as efficient as it would be if it were her and Mac. Maybe.

This response of course isn't satisfying to Maggie, who 'tch's and then snickers darkly.

"Maybe you should destroy the cure then." she suggests, and the words have Willow's eyes widening in horror. "He won't leave if he ain't got it, now will he?"

Her voice is venomously sing-song, and she laughs again. Willow frowns deeply. "That's horrible." she spits. "You're horrible."

Before Maggie can respond, the sound of footsteps coming around the side of the house has both girls on high-alert, though Willow expects it to be MacCready. Perhaps, she thinks, he had left through the back door for some reason and is walking along the side of the house to the front.

She is shocked to see a head of black hair become visible over the banister of the raised porch, and she scrambles to her feet and tenses as she locks eyes with the last person she'd expected to see here:

Cass.

He stops and offers her a silky-smooth smile, one which crinkles the corners of his dark brown eyes. "Willow." he greets her, then wanders casually to the porch where he props his arms up on the railing and rests his chin on them. His eyes drift about as if he is looking for another person there with her, but when he sees she is alone, his gaze settles on her. "You're a hard woman to find, you know that?"

He chuckles, but his laugh does little to put Willow at ease, and she stares down at him with wide eyes as she stands stiffly. "What are you doing here?" she questions, and Cass pushes himself from the railing and puts his hands up defensively as he heads to the steps that lead up to the porch.

"I'm just here to talk." he claims while Willow hurries to the stairs to block him from ascending.

"I don't want to talk." she says frantically and steps down, pushing him backward. "I want you to leave."

"Heard what you did to Pigeon." Cass says with a grin, ignoring her request as he steps back to the yard and rests his hands around the straps of his backpack. "Gotta say, I appreciate that."

"I didn't do it for you."

Cass laughs again. "Yeah, I know!" he shrugs. "I am just reaping the benefits."

There is a growing sense of unease coursing through Willow's core, and her expression darkens as she takes a threatening step toward him. "What do you want?!" she sneers. And though Cass seems unphased by her attempt at intimidation, his smile does fade and is replaced by a more serious look.

"Fine." he says softly, "Did you get my package?"

Willow's eyes widen. "That was you?!" Her fists ball at her sides, and Cass nods. It takes everything in Willow to not introduce her fist to his face in that moment – but she knows it is a fight she cannot win. She knows Cass' forbearance is not to be mistaken for weakness. So instead, she clenches her jaw, and Cass can see the cords of her neck. "Why? What was the purpose of that?!"

"They reopened the case, Willow." he says and Willow's heart drops. Cass can tell by the way Willow's eyes fall from him and land on the ground that she has heard him, so he sighs. "Valentine and Piper have been fucking determined, man. I heard them questioning the Bennets, a couple of younger people around the city," his eyes narrow and shift to Willow, "...and Tim."

"Tim?!" her head snaps up and she locks eyes with Cass, and her chest heaves as anxiety pulses through her. She shakes her head and takes a step back and attempts to appear unbothered by what she is hearing, but Cass can see right through her. He looks almost amused as Willow turns up her nose and crosses her arms, until she says, "I don't see how any of this is my problem."

"Ah, you don't, huh?" Cass says in vexation. He scoffs and matches Willow's posture, crossing his own arms. "You know, I'm a suspect now—"

"Oh, and you could have sent me a letter instead of that creepy, cryptic bullshit." Willow speaks over Cass, "Would have saved us both a lot of trouble."

"Trouble? Oh, no. You are mistaken. I am not the one in trouble here. It is you and you alone, friend." Cass speaks just as acidically as she does. "I can't cover for you forever. I won't."

Willow grunts, and her eyes flick to Maggie who stands behind Cass now. Maggie gives her a sadistic look, one which says 'hurt him', and so Willow's gaze slips back to Cass. "Lana would have." she says icily, and the words strike a nerve in the man whose eye twitches as his arms drop.

"Fuck you." he whispers.

Back inside, MacCready wipes his face down with a towel and tilts his head to make sure he got all the stubble and unwanted facial hair off. He'd taken some time to get dressed and clean himself up – after all, he isn't so sure when he will get the chance again.

It is quiet inside the house, and the silence keeps fluctuating between comfortable and suffocating. MacCready regards himself in the mirror until his eyes lose focus and suddenly the silence becomes heavy as he is thrust back into his own head.

He is so confused. He has these feelings for Willow that he has desperately tried to suppress thus far because every time they blossom inside of him, guilt and shame spread through him like wildfire. How could he do this to Lucy? How could he let himself develop feelings for another woman when she was supposed to be his forever? And why Willow?! Willow is nothing like Lucy. Lucy was sweet and altruistic. She was a gentle and kind soul who always put others before herself. Willow is a lot more like he is: brash, snarky, and self-serving. And yet, somehow MacCready admires this about her. He likes that they see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, and he particularly likes how he feels as though he can be unapologetically himself in her presence.

He sighs and looks down at his hands which are now gripping the sides of the sink, knuckles white. Maybe... Maybe it's okay to move on, he thinks. Maybe this is what Lucy would want for him. And besides, perhaps Willow is the perfect candidate. He doesn't want to be with someone like Lucy – no one could ever compare to or replace her, after all. But Willow, she is just as wonderful albeit in different ways. She is incomparable; to Lucy and to anyone else.

He feels butterflies in his stomach and for once they are not immediately quelled by shame. With a deep breath then a long exhale, his grip loosens on the sink. He stands and grabs his hat from where he had placed it on top of a cabinet, then turns and makes his way out of the room, eager to find Willow again and just talk with her.

He slows as he comes down the stairs and hears the sound of hushed arguing breezing in through the screen door, and when he spots Willow standing defensively in front of an unfamiliar man he tenses and scampers outside.

"I'm just saying, maybe it is time you own your shit—" Cass hisses, leaning in toward Willow minaciously until MacCready throws the front door open and hurries to Willow's side.

"Everything alright out here?" he says coolly and mean-mugs Cass as he puts himself between the chem dealer and Willow, who happily tucks herself behind MacCready. Cass backs off quickly and relaxes, and an ingratiating smile creeps across his face.

"Everything is just fine." he says softly, then looks past MacCready to Willow. "Right, Willow?"

Willow growls in her throat and steps forward but keeps herself behind MacCready. "Get the fuck out of here!" she barks, and MacCready steps forward when Cass doesn't immediately move.

"You heard her." he says. Cass' eyes flick between the two, and then he laughs.

"Oh, I see how it is." he quips and quirks an eyebrow, but finally takes several steps back then fixes a stern gaze on Willow. "You can only run for so long, Willow." he warns her, then turns and continues down the road, away from the house. He even has the audacity to whistle to himself as he goes, and both Willow and MacCready stand and watch him uneasily until he disappears.

When he is out of sight, MacCready turns to Willow only to find she has already gone back into the house. "Willow?" he calls out after her, then hurries inside where immediately, his rifle is thrusted into his hands.

"We should go." she urges, and MacCready frowns and slings the rifle onto his back.

"Who the hell was that?!" he asks as he follows Willow into the kitchen where she hastily stuffs a container of muffins and medicine and odds and ends into her bag.

"Cass. His name is Cass." she says quickly then almost runs into him as he stands in the doorway of the kitchen. He steps aside and she ducks around him, and once more he follows after her as she steps into the den where she had left her journal and her lazer rifle.

"And? What was his problem?" he pushes, and Willow stops.

She turns to MacCready and looks him up and down, then pivots away again. "It... We have to go." she whispers, and the urgency in her voice finally has MacCready rushing to pack up his own belongings.