maccready is bad at feelings
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Privately, he's pretty sure the only hell she could give to anyone right this moment is that creepy fucking toy monkey she shot the head off of in the last water treatment facility, but MacCready values his balls and appreciates that they are currently functioning as well as attached to his body and thus says exactly fucking nothing except, "Got it, Boss."
- Part 5 of all your bridges are burning
The storm rolls in. The crackling green of the sky frames her dark, hunched form like some kind of fucked up halo and he almost laughs to himself, thinking of the little book of saints Knock Knock had found once in one of the tunnels. Holy Lady of the Post Apocalypse, patron saint of headshots, pray for us sinners, now and in the hour of our death.
- Part 6 of all your bridges are burning