Sorry (Robert MacCready/Sole Survivor)
So I was prompted by @basementfestival to write some MacMae angst and damn you, Mercy, I did it. HOW DARE.
Robert MacCready felt the cuss on his tongue, but opted to throw a lamp across the room instead. The sound of glass breaking was a slight comfort. He didn’t want to break his promise to his son, but Mae was making it increasingly difficult. She was stubborn and foolish. He had told her not to go without him. Whenever she had a mission with another of her friends, he worried and feared the worst until she was safe back in his arms.
But this time was different. She was heading towards Quincy. Heading to where the Gunners were.
He had called her an idiot.
She’d said he was acting like a brat.
Then things had gotten heated.
The truth: he was terrified of what the Gunners could do. The thought of Mae facing them head on was a nightmare and now it was coming true.
Mae had stormed off, Piper on her heels, worried for other reasons than the upcoming battles. Nick and Hancock had had to hold him back. He would have chased after her given the chance. He should have… but then, they would have probably had another fight.
Her parting words scorched him. Take your cure and leave. I don’t want you to be here when I return.
MacCready wasn’t sure if she had meant them at all, but he was just as fucking stubborn as she was. He wasn’t going anywhere. She’d have to force him out. Gritting his teeth, the mercenary was close to throwing something else across the room when shouts from outside stopped him.
With a gun in his hands, he left the shack he slept in and watched as a crowd formed at the entrance to Sanctuary. Piper’s voice could be heard over the others.
“The ferals- I couldn’t stop them. I did my best.” A pause. “Where is Curie?”
Her voice was panicked, terror-stricken, and the words that left her mouth made his steps falter. Ferals. Those fucking things had ruined his life once. If it happened again…
His blood turned to ice when Curie gasped. A string of words in French followed and unable to handle the intensity of what he felt, MacCready sank to his knees in the dirt, the gun falling from his grip and hitting the ground with a soft thud. His hands met his eyes and he pushed his palms against them, trying to stop the tears that wanted to fall. If she died, if she was dead, their last words…
No. MacCready thought angrily. He wouldn’t do this. He had to be strong for Mae. She was pissed, maybe she even hated him, but god dammit he wasn’t going to let her do this alone.
Mae was lying in a bed covered in itchy sheets, the room’s only heat source a small fire burning in a fireplace. The warmth did little to stop the shivers that took her body. Her face was covered in scratches, a bruise forming below her right eye. Her lip was split down the middle. She held an arm over her chest, clutching her side tightly.
MacCready turned as Curie entered the room, bandages and other medical supplies in her hands. “How bad is the damage?”
His words were soft. He was scared of losing her forever and the scientist must have understood.
“She has many broken ribs, possibly a fracture in her arm. I won’t know until I do a more thorough examination.” Curie handed him a few of the bandages. “Would you mind helping?”
MacCready said nothing, but followed the synth to the bed. As she worked, he ran his hand softly over Mae’s blood spattered blonde hair, making sure he didn’t injure her further. As Curie began her examination, his worry grew. Wounds covered her body, not just scratches and bruises, but some deeper, more severe. He couldn’t imagine how she’d survived.
“That bad, huh?”
Mae’s voice was rough, nearly non-existent. Her eyes were opened very little, focused on his face. MacCready tried to smile, but found it difficult.
“It could be worse.” He admitted sadly. With feral ghouls, it could always be worse.
Mae coughed before groaning, pain making it hard for her to breath. “I’m sorry, RJ. I’m sorry I left angry and I’m sorry about this.”
“I am too.” He brushed a finger against her eyebrow, the only spot that didn’t appear injured. “I’m glad you’re back. We can work out the rest when you’re better.”
“I’m going to get better?” She asked, voice filled with fear. It hurt him to hear her sound so lost.
“You’re damned right. And when that happens, I’m going to kick your ass for running off like that.”
Her broken lips lifted in a pained smile. It wasn’t forgiveness, but it was a start.