Fallout 4: AR

60. Sanctuary Lost

"MacCready, you are a gem. I would never have thought to do that." I smiled at him behind my own bandanna, hoping that since we were alone again, maybe he'd relax. My hopes were dashed when he shrugged and briskly reattached the scope to his rifle. The scope I gave him as a token of affection, I sighed mentally.

"It's my job to keep you alive." He pointed down the hill. "If you're bound and determined to go to Vault 81, south is that way." He waited for me to move, but I had had enough of this impersonal facade. With an affected sniff, he started to move off again and I caught his arm, halting his steps.

"What is going on with you, MacCready?" I demanded, staring angrily at his stone-faced profile. "You've been distant and bad-tempered since the Prydwen. Did something happen with Maxson?"

"Maxson?" He sounded surprised. "No." He turned to face me, and I could see his jaw muscles working behind the thin fabric of the bandanna.

"Then what's wrong? You know I'd do anything to help you." I took a chance and sidled against him, hugging his waist while pulling his arm across my shoulders and tucking my head under his chin. A moment passed, then another, measured only by his ragged breathing. Then, with a sigh he tightened his arm to pull me closer, pressing his head against mine. The embrace lasted only a brief instant before he pulled away.

"No," he choked out, holding up his hand to ward me off. His eyes glittered, pleading with me to believe the lie. For just an instant, I saw the haunted look in his gaze before the hated surly emotional shield snapped back in place. "It's nothing, Boss."

"Bullshit." I clenched my fists at my side, my own eyes stinging with sudden tears. "I can tell something's wrong. Please, just talk to me. I can't help if I don't know what it is."

"I... I just can't." He shook his head, suddenly turning to lope down the hill to the south with calculated nonchalance, leaving me alone at the top of the trail, weeping quietly in confusion.

-0-

I kept my distance after that. Making our way in a generally southerly direction, MacCready ranged out and around my plodding track, scouting for obstacles or adversaries to our journey. I barely noticed the desiccated woods around me as unhappy thoughts and feelings whirled in my head.

I can't trust anyone anymore, can I? Traders could be agents, spies for the enemy. People could be not human, but Institute Synths. We sent runaway Synths to live in Minutemen settlements! My stomach dropped at the thought. Could one or more of them secretly be under the Institute's control? How would we know? Did I doom innocent people to be victims of Institute experiments? My head spun. No, I think the Railroad knows what they're doing, don't they? A brief image of Deacon at Bunker Hill flashed through my mind.

MacCready was right about me. I can't read people for shit, much less be able to tell who's in league with the enemy when the locals can't! I can't go to any of the settlements, it's too dangerous. I can't trust the traders, we know at least one is in contact with the Institute, maybe more. And the Vault? Hell, for all I know, the Institute is in league with Vault-Tec! I could be walking into a trap! But where can we go?

The Railroad HQ might be trustworthy, but had kicked us out on our asses. With the traders compromised, Bunker Hill wasn't even worth considering. Returning to Sanctuary was completely out of the question, even if it was originally my first choice. Poor Sturges, the wayward thought flitted across my consciousness. Goodneighbor was too chaotic, though I felt that Hancock would probably be on top of any Institute shenanigans. Problem is, it was also MacCready's stomping grounds, and it would be too easy for him to be recognized. I don't know if the Institute knows about him, but I can't take that chance.