#fallout macready

Sole opened her eyes, adjusting to the light. There was a figure beside her, laying against the headboard, fully clothed with their hat pulled over their face. Both were unmistakable.

“Fuck…” She muttered. The figure stirred.

“Language...” Macready murmured, pulling the hat up. His blue eyes were so striking against the dreary beige of the room. She smiled, despite the headache.

“So it's one of these dreams…” She sighed, nestling back into the pillow. “I must be pretty hungover if I’m feeling it in my sleep.” Macready gave a hesitant smile, wondering if she really thought she was dreaming. Sole looked over tiredly, brow furrowing. “... And you usually have less clothes on…” Mac coughed, cheeks flushing. It took a moment for it dawn on her that she was awake. She sat up slowly, smile falling. Macready tried to slowly slide off the bed, but she put a gentle, but firm hand on his coat.

“You’re… Here…” She started simply, dumbstruck. “You came back…” Macready was a bit choked up. He looked away from her.

“Of course I came back, I just…” He tried, but his words trailed off. This wasn't how he really wanted the conversation to go. He didn't really want the conversation at all, he just wanted things to go back to the way they were. The two of them against the Commonwealth… But he sort of blew that. She rubbed her head, closing her eyes.

“I understand why you left.” She said quietly.

“Uh, you do?” Mac asked nervously. She took a breath, trying to keep her stomach down.  

“Yeah, I do.” She reaffirmed, annoyance creeping into her voice. “You left to see Duncan.” Her chest tightened as she continued, heart starting to ache. “I knew that. But what I had to think about all that time you were gone was why you left without me…” Mac bit his lip, he wanted to answer, but words failed him. “At first I thought it was because it would only be a quick visit. Then I thought it was because you were just tired of me…”

“Sole, no…” He tried, but she continued.

“In the end, I put myself in your shoes. Really thought about what could drive someone to do something so thoughtless…” Sole’s voice grew stronger now as she pushed through the hangover. “It was because you were afraid.” His face paled, she’d hit the nail on the head with that one. “Afraid of what Duncan would think of you moving on, what he would think of me, what I would think of him. Maybe it was something else, I could think of a thousand things to be afraid of. What gets me, is you… Never said goodbye… A letter… Anything.” She clutched the material of his coat tightly, balling it in her fist… Before taking a breath and letting go.

“You always knew me better than I ever could.” Macready admitted quietly. “I was terrorfied. Not just of those things but… Losing you. Taking you somewhere that could get you killed…” He gave a soft laugh, barely above a sharp breath. “Sounds a lot stupider out loud than in my head.”

“That should be your slogan, Mac.” Sole joked, but she didn't smile. The world was starting to come into focus again, but the banging in her head was growing more distracting. There was usually some water in her gear, so she started to make her way off the bed. The pain intensified, she managed her breathing to keep her going.

“Hey take it easy!” He snapped, moving to help her up, but she waved away his hands.

“I can… Make it across the room. Thank you… Very much.” She mumbled, pausing to swallow down bile that kept trying to crawl up her throat. She tottered to her gear, rifling through for her can of purified water. Her fingers found it and she cracked it open, drinking it down greedily. She finished, took a gasp of breath, and tossed the empty can on the floor.

“Guess it's the maids problem now.” Macready joked nervously.

“Shut up, R.J.” Sole muttered, loud enough for him to hear. His jaw set into a firm frown, the nickname always struck a nerve with him. She stood at the dresser for a moment, collecting herself.

She looked down at herself, she was still wearing the rose dress. She needed her armor to deal with this. Her Vault suit was still at Irma’s, but she had some road leathers she’d been keeping just in case.

She slipped the dress off over her head, setting it on the dresser to keep it neat.

“Should I uh… Go?” Macready asked. Sole refused to turn around, but she smirked. His face was undoubtedly flushed red as a tato.

“Why? Not like you haven't seen it all before.” Sole noted casually, bending down to get the road leathers and Combat armor. There was a heavy silence, Macready stayed on the bed, frozen to the spot. She started sliding on the jeans, the denim hugging close to the skin.

“So, uh…” He swallowed, but tried to keep the conversation going. “Are you… Still mad at me?” She sighed, pulling the jeans over her hips, more snug than last she tried them on.

“Mad? Who’s mad?” She asked, grabbing a ratty tshirt two sizes too big. “I told you I understand why you left.” She took her time slipping the shirt on, she heard another audible swallow. “You alright, R.J.? Need a can of water? You sound a little thirsty.” She tugged the shirt over her head and pulled it down. He coughed, trying to clear his throat.

“Does that mean… You forgive me?” He asked hesitantly. She froze, hands wrapped in her leather jacket.

“No.” She answered coldly. That was all she had to say on it, and he was smart enough not to press. She resumed putting on the leather jacket.

“Figured as much.” He sighed, finally moving off the bed, now that his blood flow was moving north. “Any chance that…” He said before he could stop himself.

“Chance that I’ll change my mind?” She asked sharply. He flinched back. “Forgive you for leaving without notice? Not long after I told you I loved you?” Oh he’d screwed up. He cringed into his hat, pulling it over his face. “I couldn't have been that bad in bed. I certainly didn't hear any complaints when I put that mutfruit-”

“Jeez ok I’m sorry!” He cut in. “I messed up!” She chuckled softly. She’d missed getting under his skin like this. She turned to him, smiling gently.

“Mac…” She started, starting to grow more sentimental now that her headache was fading. “Not two days ago I was drowning at the bottom of a bottle, trying to get over you.” She looked away, moving towards the door. “And at the end of it I did.” She opened her hotel door and looked back at him. “I'm going to start packing now, you can come back when I’m done and do what you want with the room.”

“You don't have to leave because of me-” Macready started but she shook her head.

“No, I decided this before…” She explained.

“What would you have done with my stuff?” Macready asked jokingly. “I hope you wouldn’t have burnt it, those comics are pretty rare.”

“Probably would have given it to Daisy.” She guessed. He nodded, glad it wasn't malicious. He headed out the door, pausing in the hall.

“For what it's worth,” He said, voice hitching. “Duncan would have loved you.” She swung the door shut, locking it quickly. He stayed there a moment from shock, the suddenness catching him off guard. He put a hand on the door silently, as if trying to feel her through the plywood. He rested his forehead against the door, closing his eyes. Then, in the stillness of the hotel, he heard quiet, broken sobs. The kind when you cover your mouth, choking on the words you want to scream out, and tears bleed down soaking your shirt. The sobs you make when you are desperate that nobody hear you.

They were the same ones he’d done after Lucy was killed, and Duncan was fast asleep.

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