a few days ago, i asked my boyfriend to give me a prompt to write for maccready and instead, he gave me an idea to write a whole fanfic - and although i’m nowhere near started, i got pretty excited to write a certain part further along in the story, and ended up with this snippet.
i’m only going to share this much (considering i want to confuse people and have them make their own conspiracies about what the plot may be), but i’ll be posting the fanfic on ao3 further down the road.
“Have you found Duncan yet?” Dawn had asked by the afternoon of day four, brows furrowing close together as she poked around a piece of synthetic meat on her plate. She’s eaten worse, god knows that's a fact, but she couldn’t bring herself to continue indulging in their meals. It felt morally wrong. When she glanced up, the male across from her could only take in a deep breath and shove his plate aside with a grimace.
Robert shook his head. Her eyes softly widened and the woman couldn’t help but scoff. “Nothing? Even now?”
“They’re keeping everything so fu- freakin’ tight. Locked up as if word gets out, it’ll be the end of the damn world.” MacCready murmured deathly. “I don’t get it. They won’t let us leave until we practically scream from the rooftops that we’re joining their side, yet won’t let me know anything involving Duncan. He’s my son, for god's sake!”
A few shushes could be heard in the quiet cafeteria and the male sighed embarrassingly to himself. He was here on two terms: Find a way for the Minutemen to attack accordingly, and to finally get his life back. Yet neither was happening. They were stuck, and MacCready’s trigger finger was starting to get desperate for an answer.
The mercenary sitting in front of him could only frown in a condolence, wishing she had the words to say to help him when in reality, her mind was blank. There was nothing she could offer in advice - they both knew his young son was here somewhere, and trying to find a place to start to find him was equal to trying to rid the world of radiation again. Instead, she gently grabbed ahold of his scarred hand from across the table, and Robert softened just a little - intertwining their fingers together.
“We’ll find him, okay?” Dandelion whispered, stretching her thumb across his hand to caress it comfortingly. “I know we will.”
MacCready swallowed thickly, ignoring the soreness her words brought to his skin, and nodded. He knew that they would find him. His only worry was if it was still going to be his son, or some other creature pretending to be him.
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