Crossfire - Fallout 4 - [R J MacCready x Sole Survivor]

Chapter 7

I've got a sense of déjà vu here.

Dawn pushed through the Cambridge Police doors, she almost tripped up the stairs, then promptly started to empty her back pack on the reception desk ahead. A female scribe walked up to her, pleasant conversation were exchanged between them, but MacCready wasn't listening. He was too preoccupied with a bald man across the room, who was glaring daggers at the mercenary.

"MacCready," Dawn called nonchalantly over her shoulder. He tore his eyes away from the angry Brotherhood soldier and walked up to his employer. "There's some beds in the next room over. Rest up there. I'll join you in a sec."

He cleared his throat and gave her a curt nod, "Sure thing, Boss," then sauntered off with a huff. He heard the bald soldier scoff at Dawn's instruction, offense evident by his clipped tones. MacCready immediately rounded to face him, the muscles in his neck and shoulders tensing. "You got a problem, G.I. Joe?"

The other soldier was unperturbed by MacCready's outburst, and it really ticked off the mercenary when the soldier seemed to be amused by his displeasure. The soldier smirked, uncrossed his arms, and promptly stalked outside.

Asshole.

"Just ignore him," Dawn sighed. "Knight Rhys doesn't like strangers."

MacCready doesn't reply, and does as originally instructed to go to the next room. There were numerous beds lined up against the walls. Some were empty, some were claimed with equipment and personal effects, but MacCready did not feel like resting now. Instead he chose to sit on one of the desk chairs. He unhooked his rifle from his back and proceeded to dismantle it to clean.

It didn't take long for Dawn to follow, and the woman from earlier was behind her with a first aid kit. She claimed a bed in the far corner, where they both perched on the mattress to begin first aid.

"Yeowch," the woman grimaced when Dawn pushed back her sleeve to reveal where she was mauled. "That is gonna leave a real interesting scar when this heals."

Dawn made a small choked noise, obviously unhappy with the notion. "Thanks for reminding me, Haylen."

Haylen shrugged. "I don't like to sugar-coat," she stated as she pulled out a syringe from her medical kit. A stimpack, and a large one to boot. "And whilst we're on the topic of being honest; this will hurt," she glances up to give Dawn a concerned look. "A lot."

A hum was the only response given, but the exhale escalated into a pained hiss when Haylen administered the drug into the skin. Dawn bit her lip and winced. MacCready – distracted now by Dawn's incessant protests – glowered at her for being too damn noisy.

"Suck it up, why don't you?" He said as he wiped down the muzzle with a piece of cloth. It was Dawn's turn to glare now. "Complaining won't make the pain go away any faster. Just deal with it, and let the lady patch you up."

Haylen momentarily paused from her work, but swiftly regained composure and carried on. She leaned closer to Dawn to whisper, but MacCready's keen ears still caught the conversation.

"Ain't he a ray of sunshine."

"Tell me about it."

That's it. He's now thoroughly annoyed. Rifle parts were slammed on the office desk nearby. He sprung up from his chair – a loud scraping noise resounded from the action – and he stalked off to the next room. The mercenary jammed a cigarette between his lips, his other hand rifling through his pocket for his flip lighter, and fumbled with his lighter as he tried to spark it up.

One flick. Two flicks. He rolls his eyes, rolls his thumb on the gear one more time...and the flint breaks.

"Fff–" he stops himself before he curses, but his failed outburst caused him to spit out the cigarette onto the floor. He looks at it, bent and looking sorry, and crushes it into the floor angrily with his boot. A wasted cigarette, but he couldn't think of anything else to vent his frustration.