fallout 4 companion reacts

the aftermath

Danse- It’s difficult to move on from something like this, but Sole keeps moving. He admires them even more than before, and not just as a soldier. He insists on carrying most of the junk they (for some reason) always want to lug around and keeps them both on the routes which pose the less danger. If they find a fight, he takes point. If they look weak, he insists on a Stimpak. If the sun goes down, he stops them and sets up camp. They express with some annoyance that they liked it much better being the leader than the follower. “It’s only temporary. Just until you’re back in fighting shape.” He gives them a portion of his rations, and takes the first watch while they sleep, as he has for the last five nights. His caution near borders on paranoia, but there’s no way in hell he’s letting it happen again. He’d sooner die than see them in that position again.

Curie- She whispers curses and has to flick away the dewdrops on her lashes as she’s tending to Sole’s wounds. “I do not understand humanity at times. People should not hurt others like this. For any reason!” She’s confused, a little afraid, and every time she looks at the crosshatch of stitches, she finds her eyes watering again. She feels compelled to lay a kiss just above one of the cuts on their back and sigh against their skin. “I am so sorry this happened to you.” She’s gentle in her care for their injuries, but firm when she tells them they absolutely must stay on bedrest for awhile, and even if she needs to hold them down to keep them put.

Piper- She delivers on that promise of an ice cold Nuka Cola once they’re back in Diamond City. She makes sure the doc patches them up and curls up with them on the couch once they’ve got the greenlight to head home. Nat knows something very bad happened, so she keeps her distance and stays quiet, excusing herself to go upstairs and finish her homework. Piper pets Sole’s head as they lay in her lap. The glowing bottle of soda is left on the table, untouched. “We can talk whenever you’re ready. Talk helps.” At least, it usually did. She leans her head back, lightly runs her nails up and down their scalp until they both fall asleep. Nat makes them breakfast in the morning. It almost feels normal.

Deacon- “I think you look at least ten percent hotter. Scars are total sex magnets.” He runs his thumb around the burn wound, skirting the edges just enough that he doesn’t cause them pain. “You know what… it looks a little like a bunny.” Sole laughs, then immediately asks that he not make them laugh as they replace the bandages around their waist. What other choice does he have? If he doesn’t hear it, he’ll have nothing to focus on but the pain of his own wounds and their limping gait, both things he’d really like to forget for awhile. “You’re a real badass now. Nobody can call themselves a secret agent until they’ve been roughed up a little by bald guys with the ‘sinister big bad’ starter pack.” He slings an arm around their shoulders on the trip back to HQ. Both because he needs to remind himself that they’re here, they’re still alive, and so they can lean their weight against him to alleviate the hobble in their step. He prods them over the course of the next few weeks whenever they need to apply a Stimpak, a dose of Med-X, or a change of bandages.

Codsworth- He insists Sole lay down the moment they reach Sanctuary, and doesn’t let them get up for anything. Even trips to the bathroom are a battle, with Codsworth not wanting them to move an inch and Sole not wanting to piss in a bottle. He brings them breakfast, lunch, and dinner in bed, and on the sparing few occasions they absolutely need to get up, he’s there to be their crutch. “I was terribly worried about you,” he tells them as he’s folding and putting away clothes in a rickety handmade dresser. “I thought you… I thought I was going to…” Sole calls him over from his task to run their hand along his chassis. “I’m not going anywhere, Codsworth.” 
“Please don’t. It was terribly lonely without you all that time… I would be quite… lost without you, sir/mum.”

Cait- She breaks three of her knuckles and fractures her orbital socket in the frenzied attack, but she insists it’s nothing compared to what Sole went through. After receiving treatment from a nearby settlement, Sole wakes up to Cait with an armful of liquor. She dumps them onto the bed and shoves a glass into their arms. “No better pain killer in the wasteland!” She fetches one for for herself and clinks it off Sole’s. “We’re gonna drink until we’re smashed, and then we’re gonna drink some more.” She opens up a bottle of bourbon and splashed a shot into both their glasses, and downs hers while Sole is staring at her. “Yeah, sounds like a great coping mechanism,” they chuckle dryly. “S'the only one that works worth a damn,” she rebuts, tipping the bottom of their cup up towards their lips.

Preston- He takes over many of the General’s responsibilities, and unless it’s of the utmost importance, he doesn’t bother them with it. He checks in every morning with the Castle’s doc to get a report on Sole’s condition, even after they’re well enough to get around by themselves, and ensures they have all the supplies to make Stimpaks and other meds. He wants to talk to them about it, make sure their mental condition isn’t as damaged as their physical, but his throat becomes unbearably dry whenever he tries. He finds them one day, standing on the Castle walls, as the sun was setting across the ocean and painting the waters with blazing color. He stands with them awhile, glancing between the visible scars and the majesty of the sunset. “I won’t let my guard down again, General. I promise.” His fingers wind around theirs and squeeze ever so slightly.

Dogmeat- He lays across Sole’s lap, and growls at anyone that comes close. Even settlers and friends in Sanctuary are warned to keep their distance. It serves Sole’s reclusive nature just fine after what they went through, and they’re glad to have company in solitude.

Strong- Human moves slow, tells him they “just need a minute”. He gets sick of it quickly, so he picks them up and places them on his shoulders, carrying them most of the way through the city until they reach the city with lights. “Other humans weak,” he tells them when they’re being treated, “If they were strong, woulda eaten you, like brothers do. But you alive.” He pats them on the back and pops at least a dozen stitches.