Chapter Text
Chapter 3
“Ow!” Nate flinched as Preston tied the bandages around his leg too tightly.
Preston grimaced and shook his head. “Sorry.”
Two days after the museum of freedom happened Nate had woken up back at Sanctuary, confused and head fuzzy with pain. He had fought what he later learned was called a deathclaw, and while he won he didn’t get away unscathed. His left arm had gotten injured after he had to ditch the power armor; the fusion core dying and forcing him to choose between getting crushed and definitely dying, or running for cover and having a higher chance of survival. He had chosen the latter option, and right when he was about to duck into a corner store across the street the monstrous animal had run up on him, ramming its horned head into the side of his ribcage and flinging him into the building. At the time he was so hopped up on adrenaline he hadn’t felt it, but once it wore off he discovered that outside of the expected scrapes and bruises not only was his thigh lacerated and arm broken from the impact, there was suspected fracturing to his ribs and (if his sensitivity to light and dizziness were anything to go by), a possible concussion. He was lucky to get away with only those injuries, so why not add on getting an infection to the cut? Turns out sanitation was significantly more difficult to practice during modern times as opposed to what he had experienced pre-war.
Now Preston was helping him clean his cuts and scrapes along with checking that the splint for his arm hadn’t shifted or cut off circulation. Painkillers were hard to come by nowadays, and Nate was dealing with the full force of his nerves screaming at him that something was wrong and that he had to attend to it Right. Now. Sorry nerves but there was only so much he could do!
“Does this feel better?” Preston tilted his hat up away from his face and leaned back into his chair from his hunched over position above Nate who was laying in bed. He had readjusted the bandage around Nate’s leg to be looser, having accidentally tightened it too much.
“Much, thank you.”
Preston smiled apologetically. “Unfortunately this is all I can do, we’ll have to go to a doctor for better treatment and with the rate of this infection, it's best if we leave sooner than later. Problem is, I don’t know if you can walk that far with your injuries.”
Nate sighed, exhausted. “I have to if you're right, and I’m not willing to risk it. How far we talking?”
“A full day from sunrise to sunset if we’re lucky and we don’t get attacked or have the weather shift. If those things happen it could take at least three.” Nate winced and Preston frowned sympathetically. “I know.”
He laid there for a moment, eyes drifting towards the ceiling as he thought. Cracks were sprawled across the center, a water stain in the center making the paint peel off in large chunks. He’d have to fix that when they got back. He turned his head back to Preston. “We can pack up everything we’ll need for the trip tonight, and head out in the morning, then. Best to go when the infection hasn’t gotten bad enough to stop me from walking.”
Prestons eyebrows furrowed, lips pressed in a grimace. “If you're sure. I could always head out to bring someone back, but that might take too much time.”
Nate nodded and gingerly sat up, ribs protesting the movement. Swinging his feet over the edge of the bed he hobbled to his feet, limping over to his bag and checked over the contents, taking a mental inventory of what he would need to pack. Preston left the room to do the same and tell the others where they would be going. The group had been surprised to see that he had a working water pump and a farm already growing, and when he had told them how long he had been living there and that they were more than welcome to stay, (as long as they pulled their weight) they had been relieved to finally settle down somewhere safe.
Each of the settlers came to him sometime that evening to give their well wishes for the trip. Even the dog sat with him for a few hours, napping while he packed and eventually settled down to sleep. Not long after his head hit the pillow he followed the dog into dreamland.
===
The next day Nate and Preston set off, waving their goodbyes and turning to the road ahead. They spent most of their time quietly talking, pointing out things along the way that interested them or giving the other a heads up on anything that looked suspicious. They had just reached the outskirts of a city called Cambridge when rapid gunfire started coming from it. Looking at each other, they hurried on. Normally their morals would have them go check it out and help anyone that needed it, but Nate needed a doctor yesterday and they were running out of time. The gunshots slowly left their range of hearing, and with it their talkative mood from earlier.
By the time they approached the bridge that led to Diamond City Nate was shivering, cold sweats starting to run down his back and make his face shine. Nausea made his stomach lurch and forced him to breathe and focus on not throwing up.
“Just a little further and you can rest.” Preston assured him, arm wrapped around his to help guide him down the city streets. The sun had just begun to dip behind the horizon when they got to the gates. A woman was arguing with someone on the other side of the speaker, and based on her irritated growling she wasn't winning. Preston led the two of them towards her, clearing his throat. Nate was too out of it to catch most of the conversation, and only dragged himself into focus so he could walk (stumble) with Preston into the city.
Preston took them into a building and sat Nate in a nearby chair before going up to the bar, quietly talking to the man behind it. They exchanged caps, something Nate had learned was the currency of the Commonwealth. He had dozed off in the minutes the two had been talking, and barely had the mental presence to acknowledge Preston when the minuteman tried to lift him up. It took the help of the bar keeper to drag him into a bed in one of the back rooms. Nate was out before his head hit the pillow.
In the morning Preston went to find a doctor that would come take a look at Nate and give him something to help fight off the sickness crawling into him. Nate laid in bed, shivering. He was drenched in sweat, face flushed and hair soaked. When the doctor finally walked in he was half asleep again, uncomfortable and restless in the dirty sheets. Nate wasn't able to tell him anything, and Preston didn't have enough medical knowledge to accurately describe what was happening, only that he had gotten injured on his leg and arm while fighting a deathclaw.
With a sigh the doctor checked his wounds, making sure his arm was set properly and his leg cleaned and wrapped with fresh bandages. Next he pulled out a stimpack and dosed him in both places before forcing him to swallow antibiotics.
Standing up, the doctor frowned and looked at Preston. “Unfortunately with how high tariffs are right now, medical supplies are hard to get. I can only give so many to one patient before I have to save the rest for someone else. I've heard Goodneighbor is the best place to get drugs for cheap if you don't mind the people living there.”
Preston gave a short nod. “I've never been there but I've heard similar things. Will the amount you can give him be enough for us to make it there?”
“It should be, but it's dangerous if you don't know the correct route to take. Someone around here should know, most likely the detective.”
“Detective?”
“Yes,” the doctor made a face before hiding it. “He's a synth that goes by the name of Nick Valentine. Now I'm sorry but you'll have to excuse me, I have other patients I need to see.” They exchanged caps and the doctor hurried out the door.
Preston sat on the edge of Nate's bed. “I'm gonna be right back, okay? I'll go find this Valentine fellow and see if he can tell us the best route to get to Goodneighbor.” Nate nodded to let Preston know he heard him before falling back asleep, waking up again when he felt his shoulder being shaken.
“You awake, Nate? I’ve got good news and bad news.”
“ ‘m ‘wake.” Nate slowly sat up and rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. The antibiotics and stimpack had helped him immensely, and it showed. “Wha’s the good news?”
“Well…” Preston hesitated. “Good news is I know how to get to Goodneighbor. But uh, the bad news is Valentine is missing and can’t take us there so we’ll have to go by ourselves.”
He winced at that, knowing he was little more than deadweight right now even with the medicine. “Bes’ ta get goin’ now while I have meds in me.”
Prestons eyebrows shot up, but he stayed quiet and helped Nate get ready to go. They stopped in the market to grab extra supplies that might be useful for trading or for any fire fights they might stumble into, and then they were outside the stadium's walls and back into the city streets. It took longer than it should have been if Nate was at full health, and they had to reroute a couple times to avoid gunners, supermutants, and raiders but they eventually found the door to Goodneighbor. The stimpack had started to wear off and Nate had begun to get feverish again by the time they staggered their way inside.
A man was loitering nearby and looked up when he heard them come inside, pushing himself off the wall and walking up to the two. Nate wasn’t really paying much attention but could understand that he was trying to extort the two of them. Preston was trying to deescalate the situation, but the man wasn’t swayed by his words.
Nate’s mouth opened without his permission. “Fuck off, dude. Can’ yew see wur busy ?”
“What did you say to me, asshole?”
Nate rolled his eyes from where he hung off Preston’s shoulder, half delirious. “I sai’ fuck off ‘fore I putta bullet in yer skull.”
“Nate-” Preston’s next words were cut off when the man lunged forward. Nate drew his gun with a bang. The man laid out on the ground, a puddle of blood slowly oozing into the cobblestone street. “Nate! What the hell man!?” Preston stared wide eyed, flabbergasted.
“W’rned ‘im.”
Preston shook his head and sighed, unhappy with the situation. A slow clapping began, and when the Minuteman looked over warily his eyes widened momentarily at the sight of the ghoul behind the noise.
“Well, that was quite the show.” The ghoul smirked, boots clacking as he walked up to them. It looked like he was about to say more when he took another look at Nate, and his face scrunched. “Your buddy okay there?”
Preston readjusted the vault dweller. “No actually, we went to Diamond City to get help but they weren’t able to give us enough meds to fight off his infection and help him heal. The doctor we talked to said we might be able to get something here.”
The ghoul leaned on one of his legs, hip cocked out and arms resting on his hips. “Damn, that's rough. Lucky for you I'm the mayor of Goodneighbor. Name’s Hancock. Mind telling me how your buddy got in such rough shape while we walk?” He about-faced and started towards the alley he had come out of.
“Preston Garvey, Minuteman. A couple days ago I was holed up with some settlers in Concord getting attacked by raiders when this guy showed up. He helped us and right as the last raider got taken out a deathclaw decided to try and get an easy snack. Nate here fought it by himself and won.” Preston looked proud of Nate, then frowned. “As you can probably tell he still got pretty injured.”
The skin where Hancock's eyebrows would have been raised, mouth agape. “Hot damn, guys got guts!” He laughed, voice rasping. “A deathclaw all by himself and alive to boot. Your one lucky sunnova bitch, you know that?” He finished his sentence looking at Nate, and he looked like he wasn't really expecting a response from the sick man.
Nate gave one anyway, albeit not on topic for the conversation. “Yer eyes are pretty.”
“Huh?” Hancock and Preston paused, a grunt of surprise coming from the ghoul, visibly shook it off and tilted his tricorn hat. “Let's get you inside, brother. Should have a spare bed around here somewhere.”
The two men carried Nate into the Hotel Rexford, Hancock swaggering his way past the desk. He put a handful of caps on the wood and winked at the woman there, continuing on like nothing happened. The trio got into an empty room, and after Nate was situated in bed Preston shook Hancock's hand.
“Thank you for helping him. I don't think he would have survived if we didn't find someone soon.”
“All in a day's work. We'll take good care of him.” Hancock rummaged around his pockets, grinning when he found what he was looking for. “This should get him through the rest of today and tomorrow. I'll have Fahrenheit bring you more. If you need anything else I'll be in the old state house.” He handed him a stimpack and antibiotics, then turned around and left with a swish of his duster and a tilt of his tricorn hat.
===
It took a week for Nate to recover from the fever, infection wiped out and cut scabbed over. His arm would take longer and the area around his ribs was now a splotchy yellow-green, but overall things were looking up. Nate even managed to walk to the bar where he sat and took in the atmosphere for a couple hours. Preston went with him, and was less than impressed the few times they spent the evening there. They had seen Hancock there a few times, passing out chems like candy and joking with the bar keep, a handyman called Whitechapel Charlie. Nate spent those evenings when the mayor made a public appearance observing the ghoul while hiding behind a beer, averting his gaze whenever the ghoul looked over in his direction. Preston had teased him about what he said while he had been feverish, and was delighted at Nate’s chagrin.
On this particular evening at the bar, the two were arguing talking about going back to Sanctuary.
“I'm just saying that I can come with you! I'm perfectly fine now!” He leaned forward on his stool, face flushed and lips pursed.
Preston stubbornly shook his head. “Your arm is still hurt, and walking that far isn't going to help it heal, especially if we run into anything! We got lucky that nothing sidetracked us on the way here!”
Nate rubbed his face with a hand, the other conspicuously still in a sling. “It's too dangerous to go by yourself, too. What if you need backup and I'm not there?” The multiple things they had trekked past to get to Good Neighbor played like a reel in his mind, stomach churning.
“I can hire someone, I'm sure at least one person here is willing. What I'm not doing is letting you come with me until you're at your best.” Preston crossed his arms and raised his chin, face set in stone.
“Fine. But I'm holding you to that.” Nate sighed and slouched in defeat.
“It's settled then. You stay here, I'll go talk and see if I can find anyone.” He clapped Nate on the shoulder (he did not wince as it jostled his arm), and got up from the barstool.
Grumbling, Nate took a sip of beer and turned his attention to the singer in the corner of the bar. She was singing something he’d never heard before, and by the lyrics it sounded like it was made by her as a tribute to Goodneighbor.
“Why the face, brother?” Nate startled from his thoughts to see Hancock leaning on the bar next to him, drink in hand and teasing smirk.
Nate glared into his glass. “Preston insists I stay here while he goes to check on Sanctuary.”
“And you don’t like that.” Hancock says it more like a statement than a question, but Nate responds in affirmation anyway.
“Yeah.”
The ghoul hums and takes a sip of his drink, fingering the glass. “Why?”
Nate frowned in confusion and when he took another glance at the ghoul he saw that he was being very deliberate in keeping his face blank. “Why what?”
Hancock scoffed, the action very much not meant for Nate to hear. “What’s so bad about bein’ in Goodneighbor? Too much riffraff for ya’?” His cup tapped against the bartop when he sat it down.
Nate shook his head, “No no, it’s not that. I just don’t appreciate being babied is all. I was a soldier before, so it’s odd having someone worry about my health to this degree.”
Hancock’s eyes narrowed. “A soldier? What, like those brotherhood of steel assholes?” Nate watched Hancocks shoulders stiffen before deliberately relaxing, and could have imagined it happening if he hadn’t been staring at the mayor so intently.
Shifting in his seat uncomfortably Nate explained, “No, as in before the bombs fell. I was a soldier for the US and was barely home when everything went to hell.”
Fumbling his drink Hancock set it down with a light thud, jaw dropped and coal eyes wide. “Shit. Like one of those pre-war ghouls. How’d you stay alive this long still lookin’ like that?”
Nate chuckled, but there wasn’t any humor to it. “The vault scientists put us into some sort of frozen state. I just thawed out earlier this year.” He took another sip of his beer and turned to face Hancock, his seat twisting with him. “What about you? What’s your story?”
Hancock finally sat and copied him. “What, you mean how’d I get myself turned inta a ghoul?” He grinned and winked. “That’s a story for another day.”
The two continued their conversation, talking about random topics until Preston returned with another man walking a step or two behind him. Nate paused mid sentence, Hancock turning and raising an eyebrow at the intrusion.
Preston began speaking before he even stopped walking. “This is MacCready, we agreed that he would escort me to and from Sanctuary. Now there’s no excuse for you to stay and rest up.” He turned and nodded to Hancock. “Mayor.”’
Hancock tilted his hat in recognition. “Garvey. Nate here was just telling me about that little settlement you’ve started up. Impressive. Been a while since the minutemen were active.”
Preston’s back straightened, face flashing with pride. “Nate here is helping us rebuild and take back the Commonwealth.”
The conversation continued and ended with Preston and MacCready going to Kleo’s store so they could stock up on ammunition before they headed out. Hancock had made his excuses as well, saying something about needing to talk to Fahrenheit about something important. Now alone, Nate finished his drink and then left the bar to go turn in for the night, dreaming of red duster coats and black eyes.