Chapter Text
"Hey, hot stuff," a ghoulish voice purred, jerking Deegan awake. Whipping his head around, he found the white-haired ghoul woman -- Holly -- standing nearby, with a steaming mug in her hand. "Sun's been up for hours and that face is handsome enough; no need for anymore beauty sleep." She offered the cup to him. "Hubflower tea?"
He shook his head at her offer, turning instead toward the bed next to him. It was empty. "Where's Nora?!" he started, jumping up.
He lunged forward as both raider and woman hit the floor in a heap. Kicking the corpse aside, he fell to his knees next to Nora, pulling her up into his lap.
"Come on, sweetheart, don't be dead!" he panted, feeling around for a pulse. Warm blood oozed down the side of her face and over his fingers, but he found the right spot. Alive! But he couldn't spare a sigh of relief; it was faint and too weak. "I've got you, Nora, I've got you..."
Quickly pulling the stimpak she had given him earlier out of his belt pouch, he jabbed into her shoulder as close to her neck as he dared. Emptied, he then threw it aside, scooped her up into his arms like she weighed nothing, and stood. "Stay with me," he begged. "Love, please, just stay with me..."
"She woke up awhile ago," Holly said, unfazed. "Her head wound turned out to be barely more than a graze. Lucky for us, the General has fast reflexes and that most raiders can't shoot for shit."
Deegan wasn't in the mood for her levity. "Where is she?" he asked again, forcing his voice to stay even and calm.
"Arlen's old workshop, I think." She gestured with a nod toward the pool-side exit. "That's where the radio transmitter is, anyway. She said something about needing to get in touch with her second-in-command."
He gave Holly a curt nod in thanks, ignoring her sudden look of disappointment, and strode out of the pool house.
He didn't know an Arlen or where this person's workshop might be, but it didn't take him long to find the small building attached to the south facing wall, a dish antenna mounted on it's sloped roof. The door was closed; likely to block out some of the noise from the water purifiers and bustling farmers splashing around in the tarberry bog. Through a dirty window near the top, however, he could see Nora -- for once not in her vault suit, but instead a button-up flannel and old jeans -- sitting at a desk inside, radio and microphone set out in front of her.
It was all a blur to him. The burning in his skull was pushing him onward in the single-minded goal of reaching the lights of the pool house across the lake. There were friends there. People who could help his Nora.
And then suddenly he was there. The panic and rally to action from earlier when the settlement had been attacked was nothing compared to the swarming of hands as the Slog's residents rushed to assist.
They took her from him. They placed her on one of the beds. Holly and a dark-haired ghoul woman set to work on pulling her armor off and her suit away. Others were running water and medical supplies in. Wiseman -- himself still injured -- and Jones grabbed him by the arms and hauled him away.
"She'll make it, but you have to let them work," the leader was saying to him.
Deegan could barely hear him.
Even though he was quiet as possible, she still glanced up at him as he slipped through the door and quickly shut it back.
"There should be enough personnel in reserve to secure the asylum, at the very least to keep anymore raiders from holing up in it again," a crackling male voice was saying through the speaker. "Perhaps in the near future, we can even negotiate with the head of Cabot House to take it as a secondary stronghold for the Minutemen."
Nora looked up at Deegan again, and he could almost see the wheels in her head turning. For his part, however, he couldn't care less about negotiating any ownership over the building. They could have it with his blessing. He'd be glad to not have to be responsible for it anymore.
"Perhaps," she agreed, turning back to the microphone. "More importantly right now, we really need intel on this 'Nuka World' their boss mentioned. This could be very bad for us if there's a large nest of raiders out there that we don't know about. Might be a good time to cash in on some favors from our... old friends."
There was a pause. "Understood, General," came the reply. "Signing off."
Reaching out to turn the radio off, she slumped against the desk, laying her head on her folded arms. Afraid for her, he quickly stepped forward, but was brought up short by her muffled, "How are you holding up, darling?"
Thrown by the question, he blinked. Then he smiled; just like her to be more worried about others more than herself. "I really don't like waking up without you next to me," he said softly. He wondered, as she sat back up, the way she was looking at him with a cocked eyebrow, if she realized the deeper meaning behind his words. He pressed on. "You had me worried. How are you doing, sweetheart?"
As she got to her feet, he could finally see the other side of her face and the thick bandage taped to her temple. Her eye was blackened and there was an additional puncture mark next to the one he'd caused, visible beneath the open collar of her shirt. And she was moving stiffly.
"I'm okay. Tired... and sore," she admitted.
He didn't stop her from shuffling forward into his arms and wrapped them around her.
It took Deegan a long moment to realize a can of purified water was being held in front of him.
"I'd offer you something stronger, but I don't think that's the best idea right now," Wiseman said as the former manservant took the can.
He was dying to know. "Is she--"
"She's fine. She's sleeping." Settling down on the patio chair next to him, the farmer popped open his own can and took his time drinking. "So," he started, pausing again. "You and the General, huh?"
"Am I that obvious?"
"No ghoul gets that close to feral and yet doesn't turn for a mere friend." He scanned around at the others. The chaos had died down with Nora's good prognosis, and those that hadn't broken off to their own beds were in cool-down mode around the opposite side of the bog. "I'm old. Unlike the majority here, I'm pre-war. I've seen it many times, both good... and bad."
Deegan drained the water to give himself a moment to think about his answer. "She's... We've never talked about it. Not officially." More moments came and went as the two men sat in silence. "Seems like there's history between you two as well, though."
"Some, awhile back," he said with a nod, that gentle smile returning. "Nora is an incredible woman. She gives so much of herself, it's hard not to fall in love with her just a little." He turned his gaze to the bigger ghoul. "But I can't make her eyes light up the way they do when she talks about you. And I have a strong suspicion that nobody can."
Deegan was stunned speechless as Wiseman got up to leave.
"I think it might be time for you to have that 'official' talk," he threw over his shoulder.
"You saved my life," Nora said softly, resting the uninjured side of her head against his chest. "And you saved the lives of my friends. I can never thank you enough, Edward."
To hell with reputation. He didn't care anymore who saw them.
Sliding a hand under her chin to lift it, he kissed her, desperate and near-breathless. Pouring everything into it -- his joy, his relief, his desires... and his love -- he had never felt more vulnerable and more powerful all at once.
He had to tell her. Right now.
Gentling the kiss until it was an exchange of soft pecks against each others lips, he cupped the back of her neck, pressing his forehead to hers. "I mean it, Nora," he whispered, voice far more ragged than normal. "I hate waking up without you. I don't want to do it anymore. Nora... I love you. I love you, and I want to always be next to you."
He pulled back to see her jewel-blue eyes had gone incredibly wide.
"A-are you asking me to...?" she stammered, sounding hopeful in spite of herself.
He moved his hand down to take hers, lacing their fingers together. "Yes, I am. If you'll have me...?"
"Oh my darling..." she breathed, eyes filling with happy tears. "Absolutely yes!"