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I'll keep the deathclaws off you. The dirt was cold and hard, and MacCready curled up, shivering slightly. Still, he was tired enough that his thoughts blurred quickly enough, and he only vaguely registered something being placed over him as he fell asleep. Am I the only one who thinks Cait and Preston are good for each other? Idk I just feel like they're exactly what the other needs and they'd be great for supporting each other.

Also there is some grossness in this chapter in terms of injury and squeamishness, so if you're not into that watch out. MacCready woke the next morning feeling stiff all over. Sleeping rough was never a pleasant experience, and now he was paying for it. He sat up, and something slid off him. He looked down and saw Nate's leather jacket on his lap. How's your side? Nate pulled up his shirt. His whole left side was a patchwork of purple, brown and yellow.

It was concentrated just below his ribcage. That looks like it hurts. Turns out a raider in power armour with a heavy enough wrench can do some pretty nasty damage. I've got one more mission before we go back. Piper wants a typewriter. I promised her I'd get one so she can write up her story properly. I'm thinking if we head down to Boston there'll be an office building with one we can take.

The trick'll be finding one that works. Boston was familiar territory. MacCready found himself keeping an eye out as they wandered the streets, half expecting one of his ex comrades to come round the corner looking for him. He told Nate as much. If they do attack us, it's okay for me to shoot back, right? Nate shrugged. Just because you fell out with the way of life doesn't necessarily mean you fell out with the people. The ex Gunner snorted. I definitely fell out with the people. I'm pretty sure they'd like to stick my headless corpse on a pike, raider style.

I can take on Gunners. Nate held up his left arm, tapping the screen of his pipboy. And which direction they're in as well, though not whether they're above or below me, which can get irritating. Then another, and another. Nate looked up immediately at the noise, reminding MacCready somewhat of a dog who had caught a particularly exciting scent.

He laughed a little at the mental image. His companion gave him a look but didn't ask, instead drawing out his sword. MacCready sighed. Of course he had to be saddled with the one guy in the Commonwealth who deliberately went looking for trouble instead of just dealing with it as it came his way.

It turned out that it was raiders, but they were not fighting amongst themselves, but were instead trying to hold position against a group of Gunners. MacCready grimaced as he recognised the pale green combat armour and crudely painted logo. He'd daubed a few too many of those things on the walls of captured buildings in his time.

He caught Nate's glance as the taller man glanced over his shoulder at him, and nodded, pulling out and loading his rifle. Stationing himself on the roof of an old RV, he set up and began to take out the raiders stood on the top of the building and leaning out from behind scrap fences.

The Gunners were mostly on the ground, which meant they were fair game for Nate's new sword. He seemed to be dispatching them immensely quickly, even faster than normal. MacCready swore he saw one Gunner stumble away from the fight nursing a nasty but clearly non-fatal wound, only to make it halfway down the street and collapse.

Was the sword poisoned? It didn't take them long to clear the front of the building, and Nate, covered in blood splatters and with his blade dripping gore, beckoned MacCready over. The merc reloaded his gun as Nate listened at the door of the building. There were no more shots to be heard, only the low mumble of voices. Must've cleared out the ones on the roof. Just gotta wait for Jared's team to finish clearing out the upper floors.

Nate leaned in to murmur to MacCready, "We'll aim to clear them out before their team returns. Hopefully the ones upstairs will take out enough of each other that they won't be too much of a problem. MacCready didn't respond immediately. He found himself distracted by Nate. The man was close enough that MacCready could feel his breath on his cheek, and it was warm.

He smelled like blood. Long time no see. Nate ground to a halt behind him. The Gunner who had called out to him was lounging on a waiting room style sofa. There were a couple others in the room; a woman with half her hair shaved off and the rest pulled back into a tight blonde ponytail and a taller, heavily scarred man. They had their weapons ready, but they weren't firing. Nate looked immediately affronted.

I'm not-" He started indignantly, then seemed to catch sight of himself in cobbled together metal armour, covered in blood splatters and wearing heavily patched road leathers underneath it all. Still, I'm not a raider. Trust me. If you're not with the raiders, are ya here to come crawling back? Because Winlock's made it very clear that you ain't welcome. MacCready swore he heard Nate growl behind him.

He's got two guns trained on him, I'd like to see him try anything. His hip-fire accuracy was nowhere near as good as his sighted accuracy, but he managed to nail the Gunner in the shoulder, making him cry out. Irene and Gabe started firing at Nate as he rushed at them, sword in hand. Bullets sparked off of his armour, and one grazed his jaw, but he was too close for them to accurately use their rifles.

Gabe switched to a pistol, but before he could fire, Nate cut his hand off. He screamed. Irene pulled out a machete of her own and started parrying his attacks, giving Gabe a chance to back up and find another weapon, shaking from the shock of his injury. MacCready aimed his rifle properly, nailing Carson in the head and then swinging it around to hit Gabe before he could land a hit on Nate.

Irene was clearly struggling with her opponent, and MacCready gave it a minute max before she fell. The lobby of the old building went quiet once more, save for Nate's heavy breathing as he wiped his sword off on the sofa cushions. Carson liked to pick on me. More than once I suggested I shoot his feet off so he could see things from my perspective.

Nate snorted, leaning on MacCready's shoulder. MacCready elbowed him in the ribs, and he retreated, holding his chest and laughing. Nate pulled a straight face, sobering up. You're a dangerous man, and I would be absolutely terrified if I was staring down the barrel of your gun.

Let's go. MacCready followed, still faintly embarrassed by the whole exchange. Clearing the building was easy after that. They managed to get the drop on the other group of Gunners, and took them out without any more injury. The very top floor held some very wary raiders, and one did actually manage to get a shot off in MacCready's direction.

It wasn't anything to be particularly worried about, being a spray of shot from a crappy sawed-off shotgun to the shoulder, but there was blood on his jacket and it stung enough to make him hiss with pain every time he moved his left arm.

As soon as they were dispatched, Nate was on him, checking the wound. MacCready had pushed him away, insisting that it could wait until they were back at Covenant, but he had still seemed concerned, which MacCready wasn't sure how to feel about.

Sure, he felt a little indignant, since Nate took injuries all the time and brushed it off like it was no big deal, and he could handle pain just as well as the bigger, older man could. But at the same time, he'd not had someone who genuinely cared about his wellbeing since Lucy.

The more he got to know Nate, he thought, the quicker he was warming to him. Conveniently, the building the raiders and gunners had been fighting over had been the HQ of some prewar company, and as such was full of desks, clipboards, terminals and typewriters.

Whilst Nate inspected his choices, wanting to pick out the best possible one for Piper, MacCready rifled through desk drawers and the like, looking for caps, ammo and other useful things. He packed it away with the rest of his loot, shouldering a bag that was now much bulkier and heavier.

I've got it. Now come on, let's get out of here. Fortunately, Nate didn't rush towards any other sounds of gunshots. He seemed eager to get back, and MacCready had no doubt that it was so he could baby him. Honestly, MacCready didn't think he'd ever met a person with more conflicting personality traits; on one hand, he was fearsome, toting deadly weapons with ease and not hesitating in dealing out pain and death to any who invoked his wrath.

On the other, he seemed to have an innate need to be insufferably nice to everyone else. He displayed generosity which was practically unheard of in the wasteland, and seemed to pick people in need of something and do his absolute best to provide it. Even people whose needs he perhaps didn't know about, MacCready was beginning to realise. He didn't know if Nate had figured it out or if he was just inherently good at what he was doing, but somehow he'd found MacCready at his worst, scraping for caps in the back of a bar because he'd lost everyone and everything he could be loyal to, and had given him everything he needed.

Well, almost everything, but MacCready wasn't sure he was ready to tell Nate about Duncan. No matter how insane the man was, MacCready couldn't just ask him to barrel into a place as dangerous as the old Med-Tek building three days after they met. Besides, he was the one getting paid. He shouldn't be the one asking for favours. Speaking of which, he was beginning to feel bad for taking Nate's caps. Not that he needed them, but the older man had given him so much in the past few days that MacCready felt like he was taking advantage of the man.

Maybe he should give him the money back. But then Then he wouldn't be his boss anymore. Then what would they be? What if Nate didn't want to travel with him once their contract was up? Where would he go? You do realise when people talk about bathing in the blood of their enemies they're joking, right? Nate didn't bother sorting through his loot immediately, unlike last time.

Instead, he went rummaging through his stuff, seeming to be looking for something. He returned with a relatively clean bucket, an only mildly stained rag, tweezers, med-X and a couple stimpaks. Left untreated, it could get infections or all kinds of nasty stuff, and I can't just stimpak it unless you want a few dozen tiny metal balls ripping your shoulder muscle apart from the inside.

Shirt too. Behind him, Cait wolf whistled. MacCready glared at her. She rolled her eyes but obliged, coming over to take the bucket off of Nate. Meanwhile, Nate pulled a lighter from his pocket and ran the flame from one end of the tweezers to the other. MacCready watched a little apprehensively. MacCready nodded, and injected the medicine into his arm, doing his best to ignore the shot of pain as he moved his shoulder.

Cait returned with a bucket of clean water. She made a sympathetic noise. But trust me, you're better off for it. MacCready jerked away from the touch as it burned on his open wound, but Nate was persistent. If you did it you'd try to make it hurt less. Therefore it would take longer. MacCready glared at him, gritting his teeth against the pain.

By the time he was satisfied with his work, the water in the bucket was red, and MacCready could see each little hole in his skin where the shot had gone in.

It wasn't pleasant, but he'd seen a lot worse. Oh, how MacCready wanted to swear. He wanted to yell and scream and push Nate away because of how much it hurt, but he didn't. His knuckles were white as he gripped the bench and bit his lip so hard it bled. Each time Nate managed to retrieve one of the accursed metal things MacCready hoped he was done, but there always seemed to be another.

Every now and then, Nate would stop to wipe fresh blood from his skin, giving him a brief reprise, but then he was at it again, digging through the muscle of his shoulder to retrieve the shot. He didn't say a word, concentrating on the task before him with laser focus. The little pile of bloody shot on the bench grew, until finally, Nate sat back, studying his work.

Try moving your shoulder. He breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't hurt anywhere near as much as it did before. MacCready jabbed the stimpack into his arm and relaxed as the wound healed, leaving only lightly marked skin behind. He would have pulled his shirt and jacket back on immediately, but both were still bloody. He would have to rinse off the worst before wearing it again.

In the meantime he was sure he could borrow some clothes from Nate's stock. Later, freshly dressed in a checkered shirt, he found himself sat with Cait. Nate had given Piper her typewriter, and she was happily typing away at the desk in Nate's room.

Nick was hard at work and Preston had apparently gone to visit the Castle. Apparently he would be back before dark. Nate himself had taken a fresh bucket of water and cloth to the pump and was rinsing all the blood from himself. He also offered to wash MacCready's things for him, since he was doing his own.

MacCready watched him, wondering if he should have offered to help instead of letting Nate do all the hard work. At one point, Nate, shirtless and pushing back dripping wet hair from his eyes had caught MacCready looking and winked, an all too confident smirk on his face.

MacCready had quickly looked away, his face on fire as he realised he had been staring. He wasn't staring like that though. He had just been lost in thought. It wasn't like he wanted to see Nate shirtless. He wasn't even gay. Uh huh. I get it. If you were interested, that is," she added at MacCready's attempted protest. Nah, I'm talking about Preston. He had a major hard on for Nate when I first met him. It was quite funny, actually.

Cait grinned. We've only been together for a couple weeks now. You're both so different. Then again I probably don't know you very well, do I? You're right. He's way too good for someone like me. But he understands, y'know? He gets me in a way most people really don't, and besides, I need a soft touch in me life. He's the first genuinely kind person I've met in this blasted wasteland.

He's had a real rough time recently. But he's on the mend, I'm sure of it. True to his word, Preston returned as the sky went from blue to orange, carrying good news.

Nate had joined them later, his hair loose and his fringe wet and sticking to his forehead, but wearing cleaner clothes and smelling slightly less like a raider den. Preston had regaled him with stories of the Minutemen at the castle restocking their armouries and rebuilding their considerable defences, looking very pleased.

Nate told him that he was considering going around to all of the major Minuteman settlements, making sure they had everything they needed soon. It had been a while. Of course, his other reason for wanting to do so was because, in his words, 'the uniform looks cool'. The scouts have located a new potential settlement.

You know what to do, General. I finished my story. Reckon I'll get it to the press tomorrow. Oh, and Nate, I took some food from your stocks. In case you wonder where it went. You know what he's like. He probably won't emerge until he's run out of cigarettes if it's one of his bigger cases. They didn't stay up that late. MacCready and Nate in particular were eager to get a decent night's sleep after the very little rest they'd had the night previously.

But despite how tired he was, MacCready did find himself laying awake for a while, staring at the ceiling and poking at the now healed wound in his shoulder. He thought about debts, favours and friendships, torn between the brevity of his relationship with Nate; keeping it professional- an option which seemed to be slipping through his fingers at an alarming rate- and giving in and asking Nate, as a friend, if he would help him save his son's life. He found himself wondering if Duncan would like Nate.

He was sure Nate must be good with kids, being that he had a son himself. Even if he had lost his son to the Institute. MacCready couldn't lie; whilst he admired Nate's determination, he didn't truly believe he'd succeed. He just hoped he didn't get himself killed trying. When he finally did fall asleep, for the first time his dreams were filled with straight white smiles and red hair, the smell of blood and green light protecting him from the dark.

Finally, it's time for loose ends to be tied and debts to be paid. The end of an era, one might say. Just a heads up: I am now back at college, so I will have less time to write, so expect slower updates. With that bad news out of the way, I'd just like to say how happy I am with the response this has been getting.

Seriously, the kudos, the comments, they are the biggest possible motivators. So thank you all, and keep it up because the more you guys want this the more I will write. Good day to you all. After two straight days of travelling from settlement to settlement with Nate, watching him fixing broken water purifiers, set up defences and just generally care for the settlers, seeing him tip his stupid tricorn hat to the ladies and patch up the scraped knees of the very few kids, MacCready came to the conclusion that this man had to have an agenda.

He had to. No one in the Commonwealth, hell the whole wasteland was this nice. Well, Garvey was right about one thing. That long blue coat did suit him. The man had an uncanny knack for getting on people's good sides, and bringing them together. He'd solved disputes, welcomed new settlers and reassured the current inhabitants that any and all problems would be solved to the best of his ability.

And all this with a gracious smile on his face and the patience of a saint. He had a wrench in his hand and a screwdriver in his teeth, which he took out to look up at the merc.

What kind of a dick general would I be if I just sat at home and gave orders from afar? I happen to own a flare gun which, if I play my cards right, could bring a whole army down on an enemy's head at a moment's notice. MacCready pointed over his shoulder at the settlers; in dirty overalls, farming, haggling for caps and talking peacefully. An army? Are you kidding? They can fight. Nate grinned at him. And thirdly The merc crouched beside him. He murmured in his ear, "You see all the stores and everything I've built?

I get a cut of the profits. From every store I set up in every settlement. What I'm building here, every turret I make, every settler I recruit and every trade line I create, it's an investment. MacCready barked a laugh. No, I was thinking more along the lines of maybe it's about time that I actually stand up to Winlock and Barnes. Nate stopped what he was doing, putting his wrench next to the screwdriver on the bank.

He then gave MacCready his undivided attention. Until I actually do something instead of just avoiding them, they're probably gonna keep chasing me around.

Besides, it's baggage from my past that I could really deal with getting rid of. That I'm not gonna take their shi- ah, put up with them any more. It's just funny because of all the things you could have reservations on, murder, extortion, theft Yeah, don't think I haven't caught you pocketing the odd ammo box or whatever around these settlements.

I give them everything they need to defend themselves. Besides, I've been known to help myself from time to time. Especially from people I don't like. I know I'm not supposed to be the one asking favours, but if you haven't got anything to do after this I, uh, wouldn't mind the company. Nate's eyes lit up, and a now familiar look of dark excitement crossed his face.

As it was he lost his hat trying to free himself from Nate's mock headlock. Nate laughed at him. Let me go! MacCready punched him in the arm and reached for it. Nate slapped his hand away. MacCready gave him a deadpan look. The green went very nicely with Nate's red hair, and whilst it didn't exactly suit him, there was something about the image. It was Nah, that couldn't be right. Nothing about the man in front of him was cute. Not in the little kids and puppies way, anyway. Not that he would ever tell Nate that.

I just like seeing your face. Also your hair is fluffy. The younger man ran a hand through his hair, probably sticking up all over the place. I don't I'm not The look in his eyes was What about There has to be. He swore he could feel Nate's eyes on his back. I'll tell them we're done here. I believe we have a job to do. MacCready stared after him as he went. Was it just him, or was the man getting worse? He really was laying it on thick.

And that was MacCready didn't know whether to be embarrassed or flattered. Had Nate been telling the truth? MacCready wasn't any of those things, pretty or otherwise. He wasn't ugly, not really, but he was just, you know, normal. A little too short, a little too skinny and missing a few teeth.

Not like Nate; tall, well built, hair that was just the right shade of red and a perfect smile. Nope, Nate definitely just loved making him blush. He sighed heavily and got to his feet. He'd have to find some way to get back at the man.

Until then, though, he would just have to try to keep himself from giving Nate the satisfaction of seeing him squirm. Nate met him at the gate, holding up his hand in greeting as MacCready approached, swigging a Nuka Cola, which he was proud of having actually bought from one of the settlers albeit using stolen caps.

His pockets were full of ammo and he was almost nervous. Not because he didn't think he could do this; he and Nate made a great team, and nothing and no one had gotten the better of them yet. They'd fought scarier things than a group of Gunners. No, he was nervous because, for a while, Winlock and Barnes had been a big part of his life. They'd recruited him, they'd been his commanders, they'd trained him and they'd been the ones who exiled him.

By killing them, he was effectively closing the book on the Gunner chapter of his life. It was definitely what he wanted, but at the same time It felt like a big deal. Best get on the road. I reckon we should get there by tomorrow morning if we find a place to rest on the way. I swear to god every inch of me feels stiff the next morning. I don't like travelling at night. You don't know what could be creeping up on you.

Deathclaws were not made for stealth. The merc caught him squeezing something small from a packet into his palm and tossing it into his mouth, pocketing the rest before MacCready could see what it was.

What was that? A mentat? Prewar sweets. You want one? He loved sweet things, and whilst he didn't trust a lot of the food Nate picked up around the Commonwealth, these seemed harmless enough. It was orange flavoured. He wondered if oranges actually tasted anything like that. Their walk was fairly uneventful, talking about this and that, sharing sweets and cola and generally having a good time.

They encountered a pack of wild dogs, a radstag and a few bloodbugs. MacCready loudly voiced how much the 'flying dirty needles' freaked him out as Nate shot them down. Afterwards, Nate accidentally stepped on one, crushing it and letting all the blood it had sucked from him run across the floor. MacCready nearly threw up his cola. For the rest of the day's walk, Nate was scratching at a welt on his arm where the bug bit him.

He shared stories about how they used to have tiny versions of the things, before the rads got hold of them, and used to leave much smaller but just as criminally itchy bites behind. Whilst MacCready didn't originally see the issue with this, since smaller bugs must have been far less freaky and dangerous, after Nate described collecting a record 53 bites on a holiday abroad and living in a state of constant itch for a week afterwards he began to see the problem.

Mass Pike Interchange was very high up. It wasn't difficult to miss, but as Nate and MacCready stood beneath it, looking up at the massive bridge, it wasn't immediately obvious as to how to get up there. There's a couple elevators that'll take you up but it'll take us right into the middle. Probably not a good idea, because they've got firepower. Let's go then. MacCready rolled his eyes. The man had insisted upon wearing the coat even after they'd left the settlements behind.

The merc reckoned he just liked dressing up. At least it was armoured. Sure enough, after about ten minutes' walk they encountered the collapsed section of the road. Nate appraised it, judging what the best route up it was.

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