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Sanctuary didn’t feel like home anymore.
Sunny tried to avoid returning to the settlement as much as she could. The long-range radios Sturges had managed to slap together helped. Preston could call if he had a new job, or if he absolutely needed her back. The caravan supply lines they’d established worked wonders, as well. She made sure all the Provisioners knew her description, so that if they met her on the road, they could update her. All this left her free to wander the Commonwealth with Mac and Dogmeat, her mind on the present instead of the past. She felt some guilt at effectively abandoning Preston with all the responsibility, but she hadn’t exactly asked to be made General in the first place.
However, this trip couldn’t be avoided. She had some things for Sturges, and needed to pick up her “salary”, as Preston jokingly liked to call her portion of caps earned from the shops and trading done within the settlement. On top of that, Preston had radioed a few days before, while they were wandering Diamond City Market, to tell Sunny that Mama Murphy had been asking after her. Sunny could deny the older woman nothing.
She steeled herself as they carefully crossed the rickety bridge before the settlement. Every step creaked and echoed, and Sunny resisted the urge to roll her eyes like a teenager. She’d told Sturges and Preston to fix it, that the wood was old even before the bombs fell. She’d even had several shipments of wood sent to them from both Diamond City and Abernathy Farm.
She slowed and fell behind Mac as they approached the entrance. Instead of repairing the bridge, they’d built some kind of walkway, connecting the two guard posts she’d help establish when they’d first begun digging in. It was, admittedly, impressive, but not what the wood had been for. She had a feeling it was Sturges’ doing, and would have to have a talk with him.
“So...” Mac said, having stopped to let her catch up.”This is home, huh?” Dogmeat had raced ahead, and was probably already curled at Mama Murphy’s feet.
“No.” She responded, perhaps a bit too sharply. “Preston runs Sanctuary. I make camp at the gas station we passed just back there. The Red Rocket.” She kept her eyes forward, her shoulders back.
“that tiny, shi- er, crappy thing back there?” Mac nodded his head in the direction of the station.
“Yes.” Sunny said, offended. “I like it there.” She glared at him. “And it’s bigger than some room in the back of a bar.”
The reminder shut him up as they moved further in. They passed the Community Hall, which had been the most recent addition and Codsworth’s idea. The bunkhouses were smaller, and had been built with really only sleeping and the storage of personal belongings in mind. Both bunkhouses had a bathroom, but that was the only amenity. Codsworth, ever practical and concerned with the well-being of those he deemed “in his care”, had suggested a larger building for “gatherings” and “relaxation”. The hall housed a few sofas and armchairs, and boasted two full bookshelves and magazine racks. They’d found a couple desks in one of the houses that hadn’t been too badly decayed, and Sturges had restored them and set them up in a corner. Vadim, as a thank you for helping Travis and rescuing him, had somehow found a perfectly good pool table and sent it to them, and they’d installed it in the hall, as well. It, too, had a bathroom, although this one only possessed a toilet and sink, no tub.
There were four Formica tables, all pushed together in a line, near a portion of the back wall, with benches on either side and a wooden chair at each end. Most nights, everyone apparently ate at odd hours, depending on jobs and such. But Preston said they tried to get together every once in a while and eat as a group. “Block parties...” Sunny had murmured, much to his confusion.
“What’s with the houses?” Mac asked, gesturing toward one of the blue houses they passed, completely boarded up.
“We boarded up the houses because pests kept nesting. Mostly bloatflies, but we had a couple stingwings, and it wasn’t pretty. So we emptied all the useful things, and then closed them up.”
“Where’s everyone sleep?”
“There’re bunkhouses toward the back of the settlement. Each one can house about 15 people. They have a bathroom, and enough room for everyone to be comfortable and keep their belongings.” She shrugged, “No one’s complained.”
They were nearing the center of it all. Her Pipboy said it was around 2pm, which meant most people would either be in the Marketplace or at their jobs. Preston headed up the guard, which was pretty much just him and Juni Long, as well as several turrets. She’d seen Juni at the entrance, and silently hoped Preston was walking the perimeter.
No such luck. She approached yellow house next to the Market, the only opened one, which housed the Quincy group, and saw Mama Murphy in her chair, her hand stroking Dogmeat’s head. Sturges stood behind her, grinning ear-to-ear. And next to her, hands clasped in front of him, was Preston.
She grabbed a handful of Mac’s coat, yanking him to a stop when he would have kept walking. She turned to him, flustered and trying to avoid his eyes. “I’mthegeneral.”
“What?” He asked, brow furrowing as he tried to make sense of her words. She let out a sigh and looked up at him.
“I’m the-”
“General.” They both turned to Preston as he approached. Mac’s eyes were comically wide and confused as he looked between the Minuteman and the tiny blonde at his side. Sunny simply sighed again and gave Preston a tired smile, which he returned in full. “Welcome back.” He was careful to avoid the word “home”.
“Preston,” She replied, setting down her pack and embracing his extended forearm in greeting. He nodded her head toward Mac. “This is MacCready. I hired him in Goodneighbor to help me run a few jobs. He’s good people. Helped me clear Sunshine Tidings and Zimonja. I’m vouching for him” Her voice was friendly but firm. Preston nodded and shook the sniper’s hand.
“Mr. MacCready. Welcome to Sanctuary.”
