Coming up to the fortified settlement that had once been a small housing development, I had a moment of trepidation when the armed man standing guard at the gate confronted me. In order to answer his challenge, I had to pull the bandanna down to free my face. However, almost before we could finish the necessary validity checks, a second, slightly familiar male voice cut him off.
"Hold up! That's Sarge! She's one of us. Let her through!" The gates creaked open. The second speaker rushed out to escort me in and that's when I recognized Mr. Webb, the husband of the family we had welcomed to Sanctuary during the initial founding. "Hey, Sarge! Welcome back to Sanctuary!"
"Thanks, Mr. Webb! It's good to see you. How're you all settling in?"
"We're doing well, thanks to you and the Minutemen." We moved off to one side to talk. Mr. Webb was happy to give me the latest updates and improvements to Sanctuary since my last visit. Looking around, I barely recognized the dilapidated development as it once was. It now looked very much like a settled training center, a bustling community grown up to support the resurgence of the Minutemen as a force for good across the Commonwealth. Garvey's been busy. He should be proud of all he's accomplished since I met him in Concord. This place is truly amazing.
I was catching up with the latest Webb family news when Sturges rushed up, an enormous happy smile plastered across his friendly face. "Heya Lady! Errr, Sarge..." he corrected himself with a blush and a hearty clap on my back that nearly sent me sprawling. "Uhh, sorry about that." My balance was instantly assisted by his large, muscular arm practically lifting me off my feet. Dang, I forgot how strong this guy was.
"No problem," I gasped, trying to catch my breath after that enthusiastic greeting. "Uh, just call me 'Anne' if you will."
"Sure thing, Lady! Uhhh, I mean... Anne." This time, he ran his fingers through his thick, black hair, unintentionally lifting the pompadour even higher. I had to smile at his antics, all good nature and friendliness wrapped in a charming drawl, even when verbally stepping all over himself.
"'Lady' works fine, too." I smiled at him, and he dropped his hands to return my smile with one of his own. Though I've never been much of a lady, and have only gotten worse since coming here. Ah, well, it's nice to hear.
"Thanks, Lady," he said, stepping around the packs to sweep me into a warm bear hug that smelled faintly of motor oil and hot metal. "We didn't know you were comin' but I'm sure glad to see you! Welcome back!" Behind me, Mr. Webb called out his goodbyes as he returned to the guard post.
I hugged him back as hard as I could, knowing he could take it. "Good to see you too, Sturges," I gasped around his strong embrace. "Is Garvey around? Need a place to stay..."
Sturges released me abruptly only to sweep up both packs in one arm, offering the other in chivalrous escort. "Garvey's out helping one of our settlements and should be back late tonight. In the meantime, allow me to show you around. We've made a bunch of improvements since you've last been here."
"Mr. Webb was just catching me up a bit. Looks like Sanctuary is shaping up into a wonderful colony for the Minutemen."
"And their families," Sturges added, gesturing to one of the buildings with his chin, my hand still tucked in the crook of his elbow. "Got a school and everything; enough to rival Diamond City's."
We strolled around the circular path that wandered just inside the fortifications surrounding Sanctuary's borders. Activity bustled around us, people going about their daily lives- farming, training, building improvements to the settlement. Sturges pointed out several new guard posts, and even some automated turrets. "Those are mine," he announced proudly. "Guards are all well and good, but machines don't need meal breaks."
"That's great, Sturges!" I complimented. "You're a mechanical genius, you know."
"Aww, shucks, Lady." He shrugged bashfully, a light blush coloring his smiling face. "I'm just a tinkerer, a fixer."
"And the Commonwealth needs people like you more and more. Just imagine if everyone could live in a community like this one." I waved in the direction of the residential houses. "Sturdy walls, a bed to sleep in... a sound roof? It's people like you who can bring true civilization back to the citizens." I sighed wistfully, taking in the purposeful atmosphere of the place. "Sanctuary is the epitome of what we can do if we work together."
Sturges had stopped in the middle of the path. Slowly, he turned to take in all of the improvements, and I figured he was just now realizing how much of a difference little changes could make. "Wow, Lady," he said with a note of awe in his voice. "I guess I never saw it. It all adds up after a while, huh? Thanks!" He pulled his elbow free to drape his arm across my shoulders in a one-armed hug.
We walked along in silence, Sturges keeping his arm across my shoulders. I was privately impressed that he didn't even seem to notice the weight of our packs, and the supplies inside. And he's carrying both of them on one arm. Sheesh. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, and reached out to try and grab one. "Here, at least let me carry one of those."
"Naw, Lady," he declined, holding his arm out of my reach. Hefting the packs a little, he commented genially, "Got everything but the kitchen sink in these?"
"Kind of," I admitted ruefully. "It's tough living out of a backpack."
"I may be able to fix that for you," he said, his voice sounding suddenly odd to my ears, a very different tone from his hearty drawl, almost gentle. "Here's let's take a quick detour."
We angled down the street towards the very first house the Minutemen had occupied after the rescue from Concord. It was the same one where I had left the set of power armor after the fusion core drained out. The yellow house had been fixed up tight, sturdy walls showing not a hole or crack, the roof looking almost new. The garage bay where the power armor stand lay had been expanded, and was surrounded by a variety of workstations, most with projects in varying states of completion. Sturges led me to the center of the bay, indicating I should stay put for a moment. He went inside the dwelling, returning a moment later sans packs, but with a couple of cans of purified water.
"This is my place," he informed me proudly, handing me one of the cans to my immense gratitude and thanks. "I was able to cobble together a bunch of workbenches to tackle just about anything the residents need." Slinging his arm around my shoulders again, he guided me around the workshop, happily showing off the equipment and projects one by one. I responded with appropriate comments, being able to recognize a good tool setup from my own repair experience. "It's nice to show this to someone who can appreciate the importance of proper tools," he said, a tender smile on his face. "There aren't many of us in the hammer-and-nails club, you know."
"Too busy trying to stay alive, I guess." I nodded in understanding. "What's a couple of leaks in the roof when your leg's broken and you desperately need a stimpak?" The arm around my shoulders tightened in sympathy and I leaned into his friendly embrace. "Sorry, Sturges, I'm just..." feeling like my life is still out of my hands... like I just want to curl up and hide. Like I'm running in place, going nowhere.
"Naw, I get it." he replied hearteningly. "It's one tough life out there. S'why you see me here. I'm no fighter." With a light escorting tug, he led me inside to give me a tour of his abode.
The inside of the house served as a complete dichotomy to the organized chaos of the workshop. Clean and stark, it appeared that Sturges spent very little time in his own dwelling. Probably only comes in here to sleep, I thought. I'm sure he's working every moment he's awake. He may not be fighting anything, but he's busier than any three Wasteland survivors from the look of the workbenches.
The living room had only a couple of couches, a low table, and some floor lamps. Our packs had been stashed against the side wall under a repaired bay window. No pictures appeared to have survived the apocalypse, no bright splashes of color warmed the stark off-white walls. A defunct laundry nook and a bathroom nestled between the living room and the rest of the house. The walk-in shower actually looked functional, and I gazed in longing at the remnants of what used to be a claw-foot tub in the far corner. A hot bath. What I wouldn't give...
Two bedrooms stood on either side at the end of the short hallway. One was obviously in active use by Sturges, the queen bed covered in rumpled sheets and a mishmash of scrounged blankets, yet looking remarkably comfortable. Next to it stood a small nightstand holding a lamp. A small repaired dresser occupied the corner, its top scattered with the random assortment of odds and ends that invariably found their way onto everyone's storage space- a comb, some bottlecaps, scissors, various useful bits of metal and plastic that had probably been emptied from pockets and forgotten. It presented an almost homey, normal feel to the bareness of the rooms, and I felt a small stab of homesickness. The second bedroom was unused, dust thinly scattered across the stripped double bed pushed against the back wall. No other furniture graced the smallish space.
"Cozy," I hazarded, trying to think of something to say. "Very, ah, minimalist."
Sturges chuckled. "I think the word you're looking for is 'boring.' It's a bachelor pad, after all." When I would have protested, he held up his hands with self-deprecating amusement. "Hell, I'm not the artistic type and I know it! I need someone with a flair for decoration to gussy up the place. I'm too busy making sure the generators are working and the roofs are tight." With that, we made our way back into the living room, taking a seat next to each other on the couch. "Speaking of living spaces... you're looking for a place to stay. Sanctuary is full up, as far as housing is concerned. Even the temporary guest house is full. We've had to ship settlers and their families out with the provisioners to live in other communities."
My heart sank a little at his words. This is about as far away as we can get from the center of Boston and still be within reach of people who can help me get home. I was really hoping we could bunker down here for a bit, hide from the Institute somewhere fortified. Turning over the thoughts in my head, I twisted my fingers together anxiously.
A warm touch on the back of my hand brought me back to the present. Looking up, I saw Sturges looking at me with a very direct, yet kind gaze. "You know, I, ah..." he began, then cleared his throat and spoke in a slightly more intense manner. "This place wouldn't even exist if you hadn't helped us in Concord. You and that bodyguard of yours swoopin' in and clearing the way." He smiled, engulfing my hand in both of his, stilling the nervous twitching of my fingers. "You certainly made an impression, I tell ya."
"Unintentional, I assure you. I was just trying to find help to get home." I glanced down at his large hands in curiosity. They were the hands of a mechanic, strong and warm, calloused and stained with the ingrained dirt and oil of hard work; the hands of a talented and deeply caring man who only ever wanted to help others.
He shook his head ruefully. "I wish we had been able to help you then. I wanted so much to give you what you were looking for. But that Pip-Boy of yours..." he whistled in frustrated admiration, looking down at my arm. "Where is it, by the way?"
"In my pocket." I gestured with my free hand, sitting up to explain. "Kind of a long story..."
He nodded in acceptance. "I'd love to hear it. But please let me finish?" His thumb caressed the back of my hand encouragingly and I acquiesced.
"The second time you showed up, I wasn't sure I was ever gonna see you again after you left on that vertibird. You had just helped arrange an agreement between the Minutemen and the Brotherhood of Steel, and I was so damn proud of you I thought I was gonna burst. I thought, 'now that's a woman who is going places' and here you were still here in the Commonwealth, trying to help people."
A swell of melancholy roughened my voice as I wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. "Going everywhere but home... which is looking just as distant as..." I broke off with a sigh that was nearly a sob. At least I have MacCready, or I think I'd've given up by now... probably gotten myself killed or something.
A gentle squeeze caused me to look up. Sturges had leaned forward, gazing at me in a devoted manner that I wasn't sure I was interpreting properly. An uncomfortable tightening in my stomach caused me to freeze up, searching the mechanic's face for any hint of reprieve. What's going on here?
"Then you showed up by yourself today, all unexpectedly, and I thought, 'Third time's the charm.' I had to come right over to see you as soon as I heard... and then you say you've nowhere to live?" He smiled, directing a quick sweep of his gaze around the room. "We're both fixers, both wanting to help people, and I just can't keep this inside any more." He looked at me with an expression that I had only ever seen on one other face... MacCready's, when he had given me the toy soldier I still kept close to my heart. The blood drained from my face in confused realization. No, don't say it... I can't handle this... no, please! I liked Sturges, certainly. He was friendly, upbeat, and more than willing to lend a hand or his expertise to any task asked of him. But this wasn't right. This couldn't be happening. Locked up in mental bewilderment, all I could do was listen, my thoughts battering frantically against the walls in my mind.
"Sanctuary may be full, but it should always be a sanctuary for you, Anne. And this time, I can help! I can't get you home, but I can offer you a home here." He paused to give me a tender smile, reaching up to brush a wayward strand of hair from my face with gentle fingers. "What I'm tryin' to say is that, well, I like you a whole lot. Ever since I met you, in fact. I'd be very happy to give you a place to stay. With me. For as long as you'd like." Forever, if you'd have me, the words hung unspoken between us. Had I not already met MacCready, I could have willingly accepted Sturges' offer, even learned to love his personable gentle spirit given the opportunity and time. But that time was past, and my affection was already claimed by a quicksilver mercenary with a clever tongue, and a deeply loving, private soul. His heart-baring speech over, Sturges closed his eyes with a happy sigh and leaned in to place a kiss on my lips, completely unaware of my frozen panicked state.
No, this isn't happening! I can't move! Help!
A polite knock interrupted the kiss at the last possible second, to my frantic relief. "Duty calls, Lady," Sturges murmured regretfully, standing up to answer the door. I took the reprieve to try and gather my wits, closing my eyes, hunching my arms close to my chest and tucking my legs under in an almost instinctive protective move. What am I going to do? my mind wailed silently. I don't want to hurt him, but I can't accept his offer. I love RJ. I have to get home. I...
Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the emotional tension in the air thickening with every moment of dead silence in the room. The couch jostled with the weight of a body sitting down, but one much lighter than the previous occupant. Opening my eyes, I saw the cool crystal gaze of my partner regarding me. MacCready. He's here. Relaxing a trifle, I met his flat, guarded look with what I hoped was a relieved, welcoming smile. He did not smile back, but one eyebrow raised slightly.