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MacCready slowly opened the door, peering through the crack as light shined against Dyce’s back – quaking, tightly wrapped around herself, hair draped against her back and tangled like frail threads stained with deep burgundy-red blood. Her sobs quietly echoed through the room, hollow gasps rattling against her throat as her fingernails dug into her triceps.
“…Dyce?” He whispered softly. She tightened up, falling against the mattress and sobbing louder. “Everything good?” She didn’t respond… but didn’t shoo him away. “...Do you… want me to sit with you?”
A silent nod against the pillow welcomed him in, and he crept his way into the bedroom, closing the door and allowing the night’s darkness to consume the room in its indigo hues once more. He sat on the edge of the bed, placing a calm hand against her shoulder. “Th-thank you…” she whimpered rather pitifully. “i… I wanted to talk to you, but…”
“Froze up?” He asked softly. She nodded slowly, eyes shut tight as tears soaked the pillow. “It’s okay… I’m here now.”
“It-it’s kinda… serious… I guess…” she mumbled, forcing herself to sit up, if cross-legged and staring outside. The stars shone brightly overhead – They hadn’t gotten around to setting up power inside the house, but the windows were enough to get by, and the lack of light pollution allowed the galaxies to light up the night for them. “I’ve b-been thinking…”
MacCready turned around, wrapping a comforting arm around Dyce. “I can tell, if it’s got you this torn up.” He said quietly as she took his hand gingerly, mindlessly playing with his fingers as she tried to find the words she needed so desperately to say. “Take your time; we’ve got all night.”
“I-I… I know everything’s been working out fine…” she took a shaky breath, studying every detail closely. The soft touch of his skin against hers, the comfort she took in his embrace, and yet… the pang that something was… wrong. “But…”
The realisation was like being punched in the gut. Yet… somehow, he’d seen it coming. Something was different about her. After she’d poured her entire life story onto him… after he’d done the same… they hadn’t left each other’s company. And yet… he too, felt that odd pang of wrongness.
“We’ve… We’re great friends.” She closed her eyes again, tears streaking against the dust on her cheeks, the run of her tear-stained eyeliner painting guilty cracks along her face as she looked up at the glittering sky. “but… doesn’t it feel like that’s all we should have been?”
“I… I guess.” He looked over at her. It hurt a lot, truthfully – There was something truly special about them… and here she was, tearing it down brick by brick. “But… why, if you don’t mind me asking?” He asked, tears welling up in his own eyes as he looked over at her.
“It’s… nothing on you, I can assure you that. You’re a wonderful, caring man… and I haven’t found someone ‘better’ if that’s your fear.” She looked over, watching the tears slowly fall from his face… the stars reflected in them. “This just… isn’t what I need right now, you know?”
“Then what changed?” He turned his head, the two of them watching the night drift by as they spoke.
“Nothing. But that’s the problem.” Her shoulders sagged. “More… specifically. I haven’t changed – and I need to, if I’m ever going to recover.”
He nodded, letting go in understanding. Their hands brushed against each other’s as they both leaned against the windowsill. The Prydwen, ominous as ever, loomed in the distance – a strange, aerial reminder of the gravity of what their mutual, Vault-dwelling friend had uncovered. “Running around not helping like you thought it would?”
“It hasn’t helped. Six years of trying to do my own thing, and it’s like I left him burning just the morning before. Like… like it’s the morning after, and I'm still processing my own death - the fact that the guy i enslaved saved me...”
“So… what are you gonna do, then?”
“I… I might join the Brotherhood, honestly.”
He looked over at her, cocking an eyebrow in curiosity. “Really?”
“Don’t you remember how they used to be? Dex had said they used to be pretty good. That they cared about the wasteland – and they can help the Commonwealth, too.”
“That was a decade ago; does he really think they haven’t changed?”
“Even if they have… I think it’d be better for me. At least to put me on the real road to recovery.” Her hands tightened against the sill, a soft smile tracing along her face. “I wouldn’t be doing this if I wasn’t serious about actually fixing myself. No more running away. No more hiding from my problems and pretending the spectre of Caesar doesn’t loom over me.”
He nodded, understanding. “I… Right.” He took her hand, locking eyes with her – but not in a romantic sense. “One friend to another. If it doesn’t work out, if something goes wrong and you need someone by your side – no matter what – come find me. Just because… Just because we didn’t work out the way we thought we would, that sure as hell doesn’t mean I’m not your friend.”
“And I wouldn’t change that for the world.” She smiled, pulling him into a hug. “And… I’m thankful you understand. That… that you’re letting me take an out I’ve never had a chance to have before.”
“Any time.” He pulled away, smiling. “It… well, I won’t lie, it hurts like hell. But… that’s okay. End of the day… I want you to be happy, you know?”
“And… I’m sorry for surprising you with it.” She bit her lip, tears welling up in her eyes again. “It… it’s been fucking with me for a while now. I didn’t…”
“You didn’t want to hurt me, I know.” He smiled reassuringly, using a hand to wipe away her tears. “But… it only hurts because I know, maybe… maybe you’ll find someone new in the Brotherhood. And that’s going to be okay – because I’ll still be by your side.”
“We’re just a couple of fucked-up fuckups trying to make a change.” She said, wiping away his tears with her free hand. “And even if we’re going our separate ways in the romantic sense… we’re never not going to be friends. No matter how annoyed Dex gets.”
He laughed, smiling genuinely through the pain shared between them. “Ah, what’s that mungo know? All I’ve seen him do is like… do science stuff and lie.”
She laughed, the two of them embracing the levity in the hopes it would ease them out of their shared – if understandable – sorrow.
They were just two stars, out of a couple million. They may as well shine like any other.