A huge favour to ask...

Could someone maybe share my blog with their followers? Please, I want to share the positively with as many people as I can!

Thank you!

If you’re looking for a reason to live through the pain tonight...

Please, look in the mirror.

Because you are a good enough reason.

This doesn’t last forever. Take care, ok.

What's my reputation? What do you think when you see my URL?

| Dogmeat |

If you feel like you have no one, this is me telling you do.

My inbox is open, you are not alone. <3

If I can talk to you and not be judged, reblog this

Always!

If you feel like you have no one, this is me telling you do.

My inbox is open, you are not alone. <3

Mods I wish existed for Fallout 4

MacCready reacts to sitting with an old Dogmeat, as the pup waits for a beloved friend, who would never be coming home:

Final post; improved, final version. There is a plan for this reaction: So you guys get more from me, I'm posting the companions' reactions separately - and once they're all done - I'll post them all together, and then hopefully it should read like a story.

"Hey boy, you want some company?" MacCready offered an ageing Dogmeat. He wasn’t hard to find anymore - the dog rarely left his vigil nowadays, but it never got easier to see. Grief was indeed a heavy thing to experience and to watch. MacCready eventually sat, his eyes following to the horizon, and then to the entrance of Sanctuary. A comfortable silence fell over the pair.

"You know, don't you..." It wasn’t quite a question, as there would be no answer. Not quite a statement either, as MacCready couldn't bring himself to say the words aloud anymore - not after so long. If he admitted them, he felt he'd be admitting Dogmeat's loyalty had been in vain, and after all the time the dog had wasted on an already short life, who was he, a failed mercenary, to break this old dog's already hurting heart? There were some things even he wouldn’t do - not for any price.

But there was a downside in pretending to be strong.

‘How can you come up here, every day,’ the mercenary wondered, ‘and wait for someone who left you behind? Left all of us behind...’ That's what he wanted to say. He had for over a decade now.

It had been a long decade for so many reasons. But the mystery of Sole's disappearance--the whys and whats ifs--things just seemed so much harder since then; they still did.

But he always found a problem with his enquiries to Dogmeat - his friend, for all the things he got him through, was still a dog - and he never got an answer. Just unquestionable loyalty. To Sole--and over the years, him.

"How do you do it?" Still came out, however. Then again, maybe it was more about him than the dog.

And when the silence became uncomfortable, MacCready ended up just watching the lost pup for a while--realising only then--how long gone to grief the old boy truly was when nothing came, not even a wag of a tail, and all the sniper could do was sigh. It was heavy - almost painful as it left him.

He wanted to be angry because it was hard to sit here and see the once happy dog reduced to this. MacCready still stayed, however, for as he looked at the tired dog that lay beside him, the older man's eyes softened; MacCready was no stranger to loss, and the power grief had in such a lonely world. To leave Dogmeat now would be cruel - the dog had never left him.

But If this old, yet intelligent creature did indeed know the truth, MacCready couldn't begin to imagine the strength it took for Dogmeat to come up here, day in, day out. And if they didn't...

Well, even MacCready's hardened heart wasn't immune to that.

The sniper couldn't pretend to know why Sole had left all those years ago, without a word, and without Dogmeat. It had felt wrong then, and even after all these years, it still did. So much so, all MacCready could claim to know was whatever had happened, Sole had felt they had no choice.

Maybe they had died saving everyone!

A huff of a laugh escaped him then. That was the Sole he wanted to remember. That was obviously the Sole Dogmeat still saw. The courage that must take when the whole world doubted you weren't lost on the human. MacCready just hoped Sole hadn't suffered, more than they already had; that they had their reasons. They were still gone though - and as much as it hurt to admit - it was for good this time.

If anything, MacCready hoped, that's if they were still alive, that Sole knew the friend they had left behind was still waiting for them to come home... and through that, they heard they were missed. That they still had a home to come back to and that one day they'd find their way back. MacCready had doubts--but he could keep them to himself. There was nothing to gain from voicing them. Not anymore.

"You miss them though,” he couldn’t help but say, “maybe more than they deserve…" No, he frowned, that was uncalled for.

That was his grief! "I don't know that, do I? Fuck, what an ass." No judgement came, no remark. Just silence, and in his world, that was such a rare gift to be given.

He forced himself to stop and remembered his promise only moments ago, his eyes averting to the ground, and he hunched forward, an exhausted breath escaping him. This was exhausting...

Dogmeat doesn't need to hear this. With that, MacCready had answered his own one-sided question: 'how do you do it?'

He was sure if Dogmeat could speak he'd tell him. That even though it hurt; that everyone's doubt hurt; Sole had been his friend and he wouldn’t give up on them, that he missed them - 'because they were my world' - and if his world was now gone, truly, who would he live for?

That this, even to him - a dog - it hurt. Why wouldn't it? It still hurts him.

The uncertainty... the not knowing…

And then he heard it; so vividly inside his head, it felt real…

“Please don't leave me, too.”

And in an instant, as he looked back at his heartbroken friend, MacCready's heartbreak lay in his expression. He's not a man who questions if a dog could feel such things anymore. Because the grief here is real. And so what his. Deep down he knew the dog had said nothing - but what if he could? What if he truly feared MacCready would leave him, too? There was no way of knowing. But what if...

MacCready couldn't live with that doubt, not again.

"I ain't going anywhere, ok?" He promised, his voice breaking slightly. He pushed the shame aside for once. He needed to say these words - to someone - even all these years later. "This," he continued, no matter how hard it was, "if this is what you need to do, every day" he ran his fingers through Dogmeat's fur, hoping then, more than ever, he understood, "I'm not gonna take that from you... I'm just gonna sit here with you, ok, for as long as you need me to."

He smacked the tears that threatened to fall, looking away then.

Maybe if he'd said those words to Sole... if he'd been there the night they'd disappeared... maybe those words could have convinced them to stay. Saved them for whatever they were going through. MacCready didn't know - but he now knew he could have been a better friend. A friend worth staying for. But then if Dogmeat wasn't worth staying for, what hope did a flawed human have? But then something hit MacCready, a reason of sorts: Laying here was all that was left of so many peoples' long-lost friend; the only defence they had to what a good person they must have truly been - a friend who people would never assume had abandoned them. Without Dogmeat, what legacy would Sole have left behind? They had never found their long lost son and the closest thing to that part of their life had been this wonderful, loyal thing that was still here. It was a sacrifice - that probably broke Sole's heart.

MacCready swallowed a lump that had formed in his throat; as he truly wished things had ended differently at that moment. After all, how could a creature so pure in such a corrupt world wait for someone not worth waiting for? Who was he to that away with his questionable doubt? MacCready decided then that if a dog could fight the pain of "not knowing," and try and not give up on someone everyone else had--including him--then the least the ex-mercenary could do was keep him company. That was his redemption to Sole. It was all he could do.

Mac let his legs hang over the shack roof; his chest tightened as he watched the brightening horizon--his comforting hand never left the dog's fur--letting Dogmeat know he wasn't alone in his grief. In response, Dogmeat lay his chin upon his comforter's leg. And while MacCready was glad for the response and smiled down softy, he now wished the pup could understand--and as if right on queue, a heart-wrenching whine left his friend.

And as the once feared mercenary looked back to where Sole had left all those years ago, he told Dogmeat the truth:

"I know, bud, I miss them, too..."

@rat-theghoul, Thank you for such a kind reblog. I'm forever "fixing" my writing and I wanted to tag you in what I hope is the final, "I thought of a new idea," post. *laughs* Thank you again! :)