Morning light begins to trickle through the sparse openings in the boards which cover the windows, but truthfully, Willow has been awake for a while. She'd awaken in MacCready's embrace, and has now spent the last hour or so simply trying to commit every last detail about him to memory. The way his fingers curl against her back, the way he sporadically snorts and then pulls her closer in his sleep. The heat of his body, his scent, the feeling of his lean muscles in her hold – every last inch of this moment – she wants to conserve it the best she can. She doesn't ever want to let him go. To let this go.
But when he finally stirs, Willow tenses as she feels the moment slipping through her fingers. MacCready groans sleepily and stretches, then immediately his arms wrap tightly around Willow once more. Willow pretends to still be asleep – anything to hang onto him for even just a second longer. But eventually, she wiggles in his embrace and lets her eyes blink open, and MacCready responds with a placid smile and a soft kiss to the top of Willow's head. And that surprises her – it is so gentle and so affectionate that she doesn't even know how to react. Her heart races, and she remains still in his arms.
"Wake up, sleepyhead." MacCready murmurs, and the tenderness in his voice has Willow's stomach aflutter. She exhales and presses her forehead against him but keeps her face hidden so as to not let him see her glassy eyes.
"I'm awake." she replies quietly. MacCready chuckles and plays with some strands of Willow's hair which have fallen from her updo overnight, and he doesn't even mind the dried blood which flakes off between the tips of his fingers.
"How do you feel?" he asks her softly.
Willow takes a moment to choose her answer. But she decides to be entirely honest with him.
"The best I ever have in my life."
At this, MacCready laughs, much to Willow's confusion. "You know, if someone told me two weeks ago that the girl who came up to me in the Third Rail and insulted my worth was capable of being so sweet, I would have laughed in their face and told them to get lost." he chuffs, and Willow feels herself relax as a giggle escapes her.
"Oh, yeah." she rolls her eyes. "You probably thought I was such a bitch." She recalls how rude she'd been to him, and honestly, she's still surprised that even after that he'd agreed to work for her. "But, to be fair," she adds, then leans back to meet MacCready's somnolent gaze, "you weren't so nice yourself."
MacCready snorts. "Yeah, well, when you're looking for a mercenary I don't think you're exactly expecting sunshine and rainbows and friendship." he mumbles sarcastically, and Willow grins.
"Why not?" she jokes, and her eyes fall repeatedly to his lips but she knows if she kisses him his departure will be far more harrowing and so she refrains. "I feel like you just act tough as a defence mechanism."
"What are you, a psychologist?" MacCready groans, but then he sighs and searches the wall behind Willow as his fingers continue to loop through her locks. "Look, I..." he swallows, and Willow can feel his heart rate accelerate beneath her palm, "I know I come off as an arrogant jerk who likes to be alone, but to be honest... That couldn't be further from the truth." he chuckles lowly. "Being alone scares the heck out of me."
Willow nods in understanding. She knows exactly how he feels yet she says nothing and so MacCready draws in a deep breath. "Lucy, she was... the first person who I ever really let get close to me. No matter what, she was always there with a shoulder to cry on, or a solution to your problems or a smile that would brighten your day. When I lost her, I... Well, I... felt like I lost everything."
MacCready swallows and his fingers curl into her hair. "For a long time, I didn't think I could ever feel the way I felt with Lucy ever again. And then..." he pauses a moment as the words get stuck in his throat, but he manages to force them out, "Well... then I met you."
Willow pulls in an involuntary gasp, and her doe-eyes meet MacCready's. Hearing him say those words and affirm what she had thought and hoped to be true all this time feels equal parts exhilarating and devastating. Her lip quivers and she searches his face for any hint of trickery or deception; she almost expects him to take it back or turn it into a joke but he doesn't, and so she furrows her brow and whispers, "You mean..?" and MacCready responds with a slow nod.
"Yeah, I..." He blinks as he mentally stumbles over his words. He feels as though every ounce of suavity has vacated him as he fumbles about. "You... Mean a lot to me. These last couple weeks have been some of the most fun I've had in a long time. You're so... easy to be around, we see eye-to-eye on a lot of things, and... er, well..." he sighs in resignation. "You make me really happy, Willow."
Willow can't fight the smile which lights up her entire face. "I feel the same way." she whispers excitedly, and MacCready's own eyes brighten.
"Yeah?" he asks, and when Willow laughs and nods, he gives her a toothy grin. "I – wow. I-I don't even know what to say!" His brain tingles, his heart races and he can feel the blood pumping through his veins. "I knew it was a big risk putting all my feelings out on the table but..." he chuckles, "Damn. I'm really glad I did."
"Me too." Willow says softly, but then catches the sight of Maggie's red hair shining in the scant sunlight which continues to filter into the room and her heart sinks. The child watches her with a deep frown and sad eyes, and she almost appears as if she is going to cry as she turns and storms away. Willow sits up and watches her go, and MacCready regards her curiously.
"Something the matter?" he asks as he, too, sits up and follows Willow's focus. Willow's shoulders fall and she is suddenly sombre as she turns back to MacCready, but she forces a smile and shakes her head.
"No, sorry. I just..." she chews her lip and feigns nonchalance, "We should go soon."
MacCready checks his watch and nods, though it is still early so he doesn't seem too concerned. "Yeah, you're probably right." he says, and Willow blows air from her nose.
"I always am." she replies, to which MacCready snorts.
"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves."
As morning turns to afternoon, thick clouds roll through the sky and hide the sun away. MacCready doesn't seem to notice – his spirits are high as he leads them back up the road toward Goodneighbour. He keeps Willow at his side, never letting her get too far from him. He has noticed, of course, that she seems a bit quieter now but when he'd asked her if she was okay, she'd told him she was just tired after last night. And that was fair, he supposed – she really had taken quite the beating.
Willow, meanwhile, is acutely aware of how grey the sky has become, and how cold the wind seems to be blowing. She pulls her jacket around herself and tries to scout for threats but she can't keep her eyes off the man beside her. He used to seem so standoffish, but now he radiates warmth and she feels truly lucky to have been one of the few people who have gotten to meet the real MacCready. It hurts. It hurts so bad already, and they aren't even in Goodneighbour yet.
The pain only worsens as MacCready chats idly about life in the Capital. "I'm telling you. The music there is so much better. And Three-Dog, he's been on the air for a long time." he titters, "Now that guy is a good host!"
Willow smiles halfheartedly. "Yeah. I remember you saying that." she says. "But I know you'll miss that Pistol Packin' Mama song."
"Why?!" MacCready whines. "I just got it out of my head."
"Oh, did you? Oops." Willow smirks mischievously then promptly hums the song. Because despite her worsening mood, she wishes for their last hours together to be lighthearted and fun just as most of the rest of them have been up to this point.
MacCready shakes his head and shoves her playfully. "Alright, enough of that." he chuckles. "Trust me, once you hear the music in DC, you'll see what I mean."
Willow stops humming and swallows thickly, averting her gaze as MacCready smiles and heaves a dreamy sigh.
"I really can't wait for you to meet Duncan." he continues softly. "I think you'll get along great with him. He's a funny kid." He beams with pride when he speaks of his son, a sight most endearing though Willow dare not turn her head to witness it. She can't find it in herself to break the news to him. Not yet. Until they get to Goodneighbour, it is her burden to bear and hers alone.
Instead, she fights the rotten feeling inside of herself and chuckles lowly. "Well that isn't hard to believe." she says sweetly, "After all, he's your kid."
MacCready's eyes flick to Willow as a blush touches his cheeks, and he smiles. He isn't really sure how he got so lucky to have found a woman like Willow, but he's glad he did. He's so beyond excited to see where things between them go, to start a life with her in DC. He can't wait to hold her again, to sit together on his couch and lazily read comics together. He can't wait to watch her chase Duncan through the fields and stargaze with both of them at his side. For once, it feels like things are finally going his way, and he has Willow to thank for that.
As they step into Goodneighbour and the sun begins to set on their journey, Willow slows and lags behind MacCready. Her eyes flick to a caravan worker who stands just outside of Daisy's shop and loads merchandise onto his brahmin, and she feels so bittersweet. They've made it just in time.
MacCready grins as he, too, spots the man readying himself for the arduous journey to DC. Several other workers and brahmin mill about as well, and a couple are walking back from the direction of the Third Rail. "Alright, just hang tight a minute, I'm gonna go talk with Daisy." he tells Willow, who simply nods and watches him go. She draws in a shaky breath and steadies herself against a lamp-post, and she swears in that moment she can feel her heart breaking into a thousand tiny pieces.
She considers turning and running. It would be so much easier than telling MacCready the truth – that she isn't going with him. Then she wouldn't have to see his disappointment, and he wouldn't get to see her crying. But MacCready deserves more than that. God damn it, he deserves so much more than that – he deserves the world, and all Willow wants is to give it to him. But she just can't.
Fuck, she is already crying. Silent tears land on her cheeks as she stands in the cold street and watches MacCready talk with Daisy in the warm glow of her shop lights. Even from where she stands, she can see him smiling as he gestures back toward her, and when Daisy's ghoulish eyes search the darkness for her she presses herself against the lamp-post and holds her breath and prays they don't beckon her over.
Thankfully, they don't. MacCready emerges some time later and nods to the caravaners as he passes them, then heads back to Willow and says with a confident smile, "Well, beautiful? Are you ready to hit the road?"
That's when he notices Willow's tearful gaze, and the damp streaks which decorate her cheeks. His brow furrows and he steps forward. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asks softly, and as he lifts his hand to gently tilt Willow's chin upward, she gasps softly.
She holds his gaze for a long moment. But not long enough. No amount of time spent lost in MacCready's eyes could ever be long enough. Then, she sniffs and looks away. "Mac, I..." she begins and bites her lip in a bid to keep her voice steady. "You have... no idea how badly I want to go with you to the Capital." She pulls herself back out of MacCready's grasp just as her lip begins to quiver. "But..."
But. The word hits MacCready like a Super Mutant with a two-by-four, and he frowns as his hand slowly falls. "But... But what?" he whispers, and Willow shakes her head then uses her trembling hand to dab tears from her eyes.
"I... I can't." she replies, her voice equally soft and weak as MacCready's. "I still have unfinished business here. In the Commonwealth." she sucks in her lips and takes a deep breath through her nose as her glassy eyes shimmer in the fleeting light. "There's... still a name left on Maggie's list, and I... I can't... let her down again..."
"You're serious?" Willow is shocked when MacCready sounds vaguely angry, and she glances to him. He isn't really even mad – he is just hurt and it manifests as anger and he doesn't know exactly how else to respond. He watches her incredulously, then scoffs. "So... this is it? Just like that?"
Willow's frown deepens and she can feel a heat rising in her chest, a tingling behind her nose. "I'm sorry, I—"
"Don't you think you've done enough for Maggie?" he interjects, and it kills Willow to see the desperation in his eyes and how hard he wants to fight. For her.
Yet she shakes her head and her eyes dart anxiously around the streets. "No, I... You don't understand. I can't leave this unfinished, MacCready."
"Willow, she's already dead." MacCready's voice breaks as his brief bout of reactive anger is quickly devoured by a profound heartache. It doesn't make sense – they shared their feelings with one another – they established that they both made each other happy in ways no one else could. She says she has no one here, so why stay? Why, when he's offering her a lifetime companion and a home and a future at his side?
The woman crosses an arm across her chest, and she looks down to her feet. "She isn't." she whispers. "It's true, she's no longer here, but... She won't rest until this is done." She lifts her gaze to meet his, and shakes her head gently. "I'm sorry."
MacCready is still. His mind races with objections and pleas and what-ifs, but he knows he can't force her hand into coming with him. That if he did, she would only grow to resent him; and that fate seems worse to MacCready. So he slumps, and breathes a shaky sigh of resignation.
"I... see." he says dejectedly and looks away from Willow now as he relies on the brim of his hat to hide his eyes. There's a pit in his stomach – a gnawing sense of anguish and sadness and defeat. He feels crushed, but blessed all the same to at least have met Willow at all. He lifts his gaze once more and truly admires the woman before him. She's reckless, hot-headed and ridiculously stubborn – but she's also one of the most cunning, entertaining and genuinely good people he's ever met. He can tell how much she cares for him, and he wants so badly to show her that he longs to remain by her side even though he has fulfilled his contract to her; to prove to her that she is so, so much more to him than just another client. He would stay behind in the Commonwealth forever and listen to Pistol Packin' Mama on repeat every single day for the rest of his life if it meant he could roll over every morning and wake up next to her.
But Duncan comes first; and thanks to Willow, MacCready gets to go home and give him the medicine that will hopefully give him a chance at a normal, healthy life. He is so beyond excited for that. To have his boy back. It's all he's ever really wanted.
Right place, wrong time, he supposes.
He eventually swallows the lump in his throat and adjusts his hat, and then Willow watches him with a silent curiousity as he twists at the waist and opens up one of his packs.
As he turns and meets her eyes again, he stops and the world slows around them. Willow feels it too, and she clenches her jaw. "Mac...?" she whispers, then suddenly, he extends his hand and Willow looks down. He holds out to her a small, wooden soldier, and she tilts her head. "What's that?"
"Take it." MacCready urges so Willow does. She holds it carefully and turns it over in her hand, and MacCready can see the confusion on her face so he relaxes his shoulders and conjures up a faint smile. "Lucy made that for me." he says softly. Willow's eyes flick to his face, and she looks even more puzzled. "Yeah, I... When we met, I told her I was a soldier. Never really had the guts to tell her I was just a hired killer, and she never found out either before she..." He stops himself, then clears his throat. "A-Anyway, she made that for me, but, well, er..." he finds himself fidgeting with his sleeve now as he unrolls and rolls it again and again. "Listen, Willow. The way you... The way you fight for Maggie, and how you fought for Duncan and for me... I... I think maybe you're a lot more deserving of that little guy than I am." he chuckles pathetically and shakes his head. "So I... I want you to have it. And don't you dare lose it, okay? It's really special to me, so just... Keep it, and think of it as a... Token of our friendship. A representation of what you mean to me... or... something."
Willow's hand closes around the statue and her face scrunches, and then suddenly, she falls forward and wraps her arms around MacCready and buries her face in his chest and sobs. He takes her in his arms, clutches the back of her head and holds her as he, himself tries not to cry. But he does feel a solitary tear drop fall from his eye, so he pushes his face into Willow's hair and inhales. She smells so damn good. She feels so damn good in his arms.
Finally, with one last squeeze, Willow pulls back and regards MacCready. Her hands linger on his chest for a moment, then she gasps lowly. "Oh! I-I almost forgot..." she croaks, then laughs sadly and moves to dig through her own bag. "I have something for you, too."
"Oh?" he says weakly and watches as she rips a page from her journal. She looks it over, smiles with quiet satisfaction, then hands it to him. He takes it and examines it, and when he realizes what he's looking at, he smiles a genuine smile and shakes his head. "What the heck?" he laughs softly. "Willow, did you draw this?!"
Willow nods excitedly and wipes her eyes and nose with her sleeve. "Yeah!" she grins. "I thought you might find it funny."
On the page is a cartoonish drawing of MacCready, dressed as Grognak, and Willow, dressed as Maula, four arms and all. They brandish swords, and stand triumphantly atop a pile of dead ghouls. MacCready's nose crinkles as he continues smiling, enjoying the detail she'd put into the artwork. "This is amazing." he says, and Willow giggles.
"I'm glad you like it. Now you can always look back and remember the time when we were fucking heroes."
MacCready's smile shifts from amusement to melancholy, and his fingers trace over the cartoon drawing of Willow. "You made yourself the villain." he notes lowly.
Willow shrugs. "I made myself look cool." she replies flippantly, then swallows. There is a beat of silence as MacCready continues admiring the drawing, and then Willow suddenly murmurs, "You won't... forget me, will you?"
At this, MacCready looks up quickly and furrows his brow. He looks her up and down, and shakes his head quickly. "Willow, no..." he says as he lowers the picture. "I... I could never forget you. Not in a million years." His words are true, and they breathe some semblance of comfort into Willow who nods tacitly.
"Good. 'Cause I won't forget you." she replies, then her wistful smile returns. "Best 200 caps I ever spent."
"Ay!" a voice calls out, and their shared, sad laughter is cut short as they turn to see a caravan guard step impatiently out from behind a brahmin. He watches them with his hands on his hips and a frown on his face. "You two comin' or what?!"
Willow sighs and rocks on her heels. "Guess you'd better get going, huh?" she whispers, and MacCready looks disappointed but he nods.
"Yeah, I... Guess so."
It's almost like neither can move. They both remain stuck in place, because they know that this is goodbye and neither of them want that to be true. But finally, Willow gives MacCready a light, playful shove toward the caravans and then laughs. "Get your ass moving, or they'll feed you to a deathclaw." She leans forward and grins impishly, "Or a thousand radroaches. I don't know, whichever one is stronger I guess."
She winks, and MacCready laughs. "The radroaches. Obviously." he says smugly, then takes a reluctant step back from Willow. His mouth opens and closes several times as he tries to think of something more to say, but he can't seem to find any words more fitting than, "Goodbye, Willow."
"Yeah," Willow nods solemnly. "Be safe out there, MacCready."
With that, Willow, too, steps back, and after a moment, they both turn and head away from each other: MacCready toward the caravans, and Willow toward the darkened streets of Goodneighbour. But before she can disappear behind Kill Or Be Killed, she stops and turns, and is surprised to find her eyes locking once more with MacCready's as he watches her from beside the brahmin. Like a magnet, Willow can't help but to be drawn to him, and she takes an inadvertent step toward the mercenary. He perks at this, eyes widening with hope, and holds his breath. Has she changed her mind?
"Let's go." Maggie pulls at Willow's sleeve, and Willow sighs. MacCready feels a growing sense of disappointment as he watches Willow turn her head to look tiredly down at the empty space beside her and say something which he cannot hear to someone he cannot see. Then, one last time, she meets his gaze, gives him a goofy smile and salute, and is gone.
As he looks down to the picture he still holds carefully between his fingers, he feels his heart flutter. He's so happy he took her offer that fateful night in the Third Rail, and that he didn't walk out on her after the shitshow that was the Corvega Assembly Plant. The two weeks they'd spent together had been tumultuous, sure, but MacCready wouldn't trade a single second of his time with Willow for the world. And even though she is now gone, he knows she will stay with him for a long, long time. After all, how could he ever forget the woman who showed him once again what love felt like?