Those words were the catalyst for another several weeks of traversing the Commonwealth by ourselves, this time to the south and east of the city proper. I still had some more locations Garvey wanted us to check out, as well as new intel from Hancock about strange disappearances near the coast that sounded like the Institute's work. We never stayed in one place for long, keeping on the move and trying to track down a Courser. Bringing new settlements under the Minutemen's banner became easier as word of the faction's resurgence spread. Once officially on Garvey's list, we could then send word to Deacon and the Railroad, letting them place the occasional Synth runaway to start their new life as a colonist.
The Brotherhood of Steel soldiers were also out and about, flying scouting missions and eliminating threats as they found them. Whenever we came across a squad, we would offer our assistance and send any of our technological finds back to the Scribes on the Prydwen. By this point, we were recognized as a Brotherhood asset, and welcomed as temporary fire support for the roving patrols. It also helps to have a couple of Knights in full power armor to draw fire, I thought, taking a shot at a rampaging Super Mutant from the hidden flanking position MacCready had secured for us. Exoskeletons don't bleed.
For his part, MacCready appeared to take things in stride, seemingly content just to be out and about traveling together. He had been unusually quiet the first day after we left Goodneighbor, keeping his gaze locked on the road ahead, not even complaining about the weather, the food, or any of a hundred other comments he would normally have made about our journey and the environment. The loss of hope of ever seeing his son again had hit him hard, and all I could do was offer him my quiet support, his favorite distraction of shooting things, and the handwritten lyrics to the song he had requested. He kept them folded up with Duncan's letter in the front inner pocket of his duster... next to my drivers license, which he still had, to my surprise.
The morning he poked me awake with, "G'morning, angel. Nice day today; perfect for traveling." I knew his spirit was on the mend. He still occasionally lapsed into silence, but his general demeanor was much closer to his usual energetic self. That night, I began to teach him the melody to "his" song, much to his pleasure. He was eager to learn and quite intelligent, a delightful student to have, and it was wonderful to be able to teach him something in return for all the lessons he'd imparted to me. Of course, it's not quite fair that he has a much better voice than I do, but in the long run it means I get to enjoy hearing him sing.
We made our way towards the coast, the weather finally getting warm enough during the day that foot travel was almost pleasant. Unfortunately, the terrain to the south was boggy and marshy, flooded from the ravages of the war and ensuing tidal havoc. We struggled for a full day across tidal marshland, MacCready unusually nervous and on alert. A few small groups of buildings in our line of travel were partially submerged, but still intact enough to provide overnight shelter. Once or twice, my Pip-Boy picked up a Courser signal, but when we tried to home in on it, it would disappear as soon as we got close, much to my growing frustration.
When we finally reached the shoreline, I was almost surprised to see it looked the same as in my world. A long sandy expanse scattered with tufts of beach grasses appeared so perfectly normal that I was nearly brought to tears of homesickness. I made my way slowly down to the water, gray-blue in the slightly cloudy sky, breathing in the salty air. It was still too chilly to even think of dipping my toes in, nevermind the pervasive radiation in the water, but I was happy to just gaze out over the waves, letting the temporary peace of the ocean wash over me.
My partner was less than thrilled with the detour. "Read a book once that said ocean views are breathtaking. Must have been a work of fiction." He was treading gingerly across the sand, a sour look on his face.
I shrugged at him. "I like it. The awesome-yet-contained power of the ocean, the soothing whoosh of the waves across the sand, the feeling of wind through your hair." I kicked absently at a wavelet breaking near my feet. "It's beautiful."
MacCready wasn't going to be persuaded. "Don't know what's worse, the smell of rotting seaweed or the pungent stink of the algae."
"MacCready..."
"Hey, I'm just telling it like it is. Give me a nice forest any day."
"Sourpuss. That cave you grew up in couldn't have smelled any better." I turned around and started back towards the dunes.
"No, which may be part of the reason. All this open air, and it smells as bad as a damp cave." He wrinkled his nose at me, suddenly freezing in his tracks and bringing his rifle up. "Get down!" he hissed urgently.
I dropped to the sand as a huge shelled creature scuttled over the dunes, heading straight for us. MacCready had already pulled out a grenade, tossing it to land at the monster's feet. "Mirelurk," he explained in an intense whisper. "Shell's too tough, gotta hit its belly or face." We both covered our heads as the grenade detonated, taking out most of the crablike mirelurk's underbody with it. A couple of shots from my companion's rifle finished it off and we went over to inspect the corpse. "Must be getting warm enough for them to come out of the water."
"Let me guess," I hazarded, "mutated crabs?" If insects can get bigger, why not crustaceans?
"If there was ever a sign that nature's pissed at us, this is it," MacCready confirmed, kicking the rock-hard shell. "Some people eat mirelurk meat, but I never got used to the taste."
"Wait, these things are edible?" I gazed at the giant legs and claws speculatively. "I love crab legs."
MacCready stood there, setting the butt of his rifle on the ground, staring at me. "You have got to be kidding me!" He shook his head. "You want to try and cook this?"
"Just the legs..." I broached tentatively. When he rolled his eyes, I added, more firmly. "Look, I'm having enough trouble finding food I can keep down. Crab is one of my favorites. It can't hurt to try."
With an exaggerated sigh, my partner pulled out his combat knife. "You have some expensive tastes, Boss. Just don't ask me to have any. Seafood and I do not get along."
"Deal."
Cooked mirelurk meat proved to be one of the few foods I was able to stomach, adding to the extremely short list of "meats that don't make me sick" along with cooked brahmin, radstag, and deathclaw. MacCready had been peripherally aware of my gastric difficulties, but was now more determined to help make sure I could stay fed. "Why didn't you say anything, Boss?" he griped, watching me as I carefully wrapped and stowed the excess meat for later consumption.
"What good would it have done?" I shrugged.
"I could have kept watch for radstags, at least."
His concern for my well-being only deepened the love I felt for him, and reignited the conflict of emotions I had previously quashed. I need him, and after getting that letter I think he might need me too. What am I going to do? Am I going to even find a way home? How much longer are we going to be together? Those thoughts kept swirling in my head any time I had a quiet moment, and no amount of willpower was going to make them go away this time.
When MacCready caught me staring thoughtfully into the fire of our makeshift camp late one night, he teased the reason for my silence from me. When I admitted my inner struggle, he pulled me close in a warm embrace. "I don't know what's going to happen, angel, so I want to make the best of each and every moment we have together." He kissed my cheek gently, pulling back just far enough that I could look deeply into his firelit crystal gaze. "I almost died on that rooftop. I could die tomorrow. Or next week. You could get transported back home just as mysteriously as you appeared. Or hit by a stray bullet. Some idiot fanatic could discover a payload of nukes and blow up the entire Commonwealth." He stopped to press another kiss to my lips. "The important thing is we're both here right now."
I sighed ruefully. "Is it bad, falling in love with the mercenary hired to protect me?" Making my desire to go home fade ever so slowly with every passing day.
"As bad as falling in love with the lady I was hired to protect. Let's just say it's a good thing I generally walk behind you as your bodyguard." He chuckled lustfully, his hands suddenly very busy. Or fading not so slowly... I'm learning how to survive out here, finding sustenance, finding love. Maybe this world isn't all that bad?
-0-
And maybe this world is all that bad. I crunched the tablet of Rad-X that MacCready hastily shoved at me as we ran down the road as fast as we could, desperately trying to keep ahead of the storm bearing down on us. Radstorm, he had called it; a swirl of yellow-green clouds and high winds, striking with frequent stabs of irradiated lightning, causing my Pip-Boy to crackle. We were frantically trying to find shelter, anything that would protect us from the burning fall of rain and rad-laced winds, and were too far away from the latest settlement we had visited to return in time to beat the storm. With the first onset of warmer weather, the Commonwealth was demonstrating yet more of its dangers, and this radstorm was only the most recent of the new threats we encountered.
From up ahead, I heard my partner call out, "here, over here!" He had found the shell of a destroyed house, clearing the way to the basement by levering up the slabs of rotten wood blocking the ruined stairs. With my help, we were able to move aside enough of the blockage to squeeze into the scant shelter, pushing as far back as we could into the darkness to huddle together, safe underground from the dangerous rainfall.
Even with the help of the Rad-X, every strong gust of wind and lightning strike evoked an answering crackle from my Pip-Boy and a lurch of nausea deep in my guts. MacCready appeared less affected by the radiation, maybe that's a benefit of being from this world? holding me close and murmuring soothing noises I couldn't decipher every time I shuddered in reaction. We stayed in that dark, cramped space for hours, waiting out the storm. Even after the unnatural weather had passed, it took me a while to disengage from my lover's arms to emerge into the renewed sunlight.
"Well," I said, "that was horrifying."
"Yeah," MacCready agreed, "it's one of the dangers in warmer weather. You missed them before now because it was too cold. I forgot that you hadn't seen a radstorm before."
"What other dangers do I need to know about 'in warmer weather'?" I grumbled, stomping back to the road. Anytime I think I'm getting a handle on surviving, this place throws me for a loop. I guess I really do need to get home.
"Just the bugs." MacCready caught up with me, taking his usual guard position a few steps to my rear. "Nasty creatures. The warmer weather brings them out in force. ...And the yao guai; mutated bears to you." At my shocked expression, he added quickly, "But don't worry, I'll be right here to protect you."
"Mutated... bears?" I hastily pulled up the map on my Pip-Boy. "Um, it looks like we're south of Diamond City. Let's head back, get a room at the Dugout Inn, a drink, and some real food. We've been out here for weeks helping our respective factions. Time for a break... now."
"Sounds good to me, Boss!" He grinned, adding, "I'd kill for a drink... come to think of it, I have."