When Annabelle and John returned to Sanctuary months after her last visit she had been expecting to see the same pile of rubble and debris that represented her past life. Instead, they stood before an extremely tall and extensive wall, shielding her once-beautiful little community from the rest of the Commonwealth. She was convinced they must have taken a wrong turn somehow until a voice greeted them from above.
“Welcome to Sanctuary.” He smiled, holding his laser rifle snug against him and tilting his hat from his face to gain a better view of the duo. She decided he must be a Minuteman, judging by the colonial duster he sported and the exaggerated curve of the bill of his hat. He reminded her of the historical documentaries she would watch before the war. “Are you here to trade?”
“Not quite,” Annabelle adjusted the strap of her pack, glancing at John out of the corner of her eye before continuing. “This place looks a lot different than the last time I was here.”
“I’m not surprised. We’ve added a few defense mechanisms to this place in the past month or so.” The man beamed, clearly proud of his work with the settlement. “She’s come quite a long ways from where she started.”
“You’re right there.” Annabelle agreed before clearing her throat. “Look, it’s kind of a long story but I used to live here a long time ago, and I was hoping-”
“Say no more,” the guard holstered his gun. “Just a minute, and I’ll let you in.”
He stepped down from the station behind the wall and disappeared for a moment before the front gate swung open slowly, revealing the man’s figure in the threshold. He met them in the middle with an outstretched hand and a warm smile spread across his full lips. “Aaliyah already radioed ahead to tell me you were coming. I’m Preston.” He shook John’s hand with purpose, then took Annabelle’s hand second. “Welcome home, Annabelle.”
The entire community had been rebuilt from the ground up. For a moment Annabelle forgot that she was two hundred years in the future, in the aftermath of a nuclear war that destroyed the world. The streetlights lining the road had been replaced and illuminated the community in the twilight consuming the Commonwealth. A few of the unsalvageable homes had been torn down and replaced by brand-new structures, the bright neon signs of the shops casting rainbows against the cement and across Annabelle’s features. A restaurant and bar had been constructed where the Wilkins’ two bedroom home used to stand, followed by a small clinic on the Jones’ property. The Robertson’s homestead still stood but appeared to be converted into a guest house of some sort. Near the end of the col-de-sac, Andrew Brooks’ bachelor pad was being used as a mini-power plant.
By the time Annabelle’s home came into view she was nearing tears of joy. The last time she had been here, her small two-bedroom house had been nothing but rusted walls and a nearly-collapsed roof. She could hardly walk through the hall without tripping over some sort of shrapnel. Now, the exterior was entirely patched up, the windows replaced and the roof repaired. The white picket fence that once lined her small yard was rebuilt and repainted. And when they walked inside they found the floors had been cleared and the furniture had been replaced with brand-new pieces. “When Liyah found out you were alive she started splitting time between her home and yours.” Preston had explained, placing a set of keys in her palm. “She wanted to make sure you had something nice to come back to.”
John had never seen her old home but he had heard stories about it. He knew how much it broke her heart to see it in shambles, the home she had worked her ass off to own right out of college. He hated seeing the hurt that clouded her eyes when she thought about it; the image burned into her brain like it had happened yesterday. But seeing the happy tears roll down her cheeks at the sight of it now…he was damn near crying, too.
While Annabelle would have loved nothing more than to introduce herself to the new residents of Sanctuary she was absolutely exhausted from the full day of traveling they had endured just getting here. The moment her bed came into view she audibly sighed with relief, hurrying to the master bedroom with open arms as she collapsed onto the mattress. “Thank god.” She mumbled into the bedsheets, nearly falling asleep right there.
John chuckled, sneaking up behind her and grabbing her sides playfully. She shrieked and flinched at his touch. “Goin’ to bed already? We just got here!” He had been itching to try out that bar they had passed on the way in: throw back a few drinks with Annabelle that maybe led to a heated make-out session behind the building… his heart beat quickened just at the thought.
“I’m tiiiiiiiired.” She whined, snuggling further into the mattress and sighing peacefully. “S’comfy and warm.”
John smiled adoringly at her before scooping her up to pull back the bedsheets. While going out with her sounded fun, he had to admit a quiet night of cuddling in an actual bed sounded pretty fucking good, too. “Alright, Anne, don’t pass out yet, lemme get you all tucked in.”
By the time he’d set her down she was already half-asleep. He knew how much she hated sleeping in her clothes that she’d worn in the Wasteland, so he took matters into his own hands. Off came her pants and her socks, leaving her clad in her dingy t-shirt and her pair of cotton panties. It was quite the sight, and John licked his lips before she groggily pulled the covers up to her nose and spread her arms out as an invitation. “Cuddle me.” She commanded, her voice raspy with sleep. He grinned.
“Don’t have to tell me twice.” He stripped himself of his coat and shirt, dropping his pants and ditching his boots until he was in nothing but his boxers. He slipped into bed and Annabelle nearly attacked him, wrapping herself so tightly around his body he thought he might suffocate. What a way to go. He pulled her just as close and buried his nonexistent nose into her hair. “Goodnight, baby.” He sighed happily, ready to fall asleep right after her.
“John?”
“Yeah, Anne?” He ran his mangled fingers through her hair, enjoying the peace of the moment. He was pretty sure a Deathclaw could maul him right then and he could die happy.
“I need’ta…” she moved slightly and he pulled back to give her room, her freckled face illuminated by the glow of the moon peeking through her windows. He swore she looked like an angel. He played with a strand of her golden blonde hair with his index finger and waited patiently for her to continue. “…need’ta tell ya somethin’…”
“Go ahead, Anne, I’m listening. Promise.” He pressed a soft kiss to her nose and watched her face scrunch up as she tried to stay awake, like what she was about to say was so important it couldn’t wait until tomorrow.
Her hand found his cheek and the moment suddenly seemed so much more intense. She was always touching his face, always finding some excuse to be close to him, but for some reason the way she did it now seemed to have more meaning behind it. He hung on every word. “I think I’m in love with you.” She finally murmured, and his heart stopped cold in his chest.
John blinked dumbly, unsure if he had heard her correctly. “What?” Was this some Jet-induced haze? She couldn’t have actually said that.
“I think I’m-” she inched closer, her thumb tracing a particularly deep crack in his weathered cheek before continuing. “I think I’m in love with you, and-” she sniffed, her eyes opening slightly and revealing those baby blues that drove him crazy. “I’m terrified.”
She loved him? This was new. They’d admitted they had feelings for one another, even gone as far as putting a label on their relationship. He called her “love” as a pet name but they’d never actually said “I love you” to one another. Sure, John knew that he had been absolutely head over fucking heels for this woman since the day he had first seen her. He could said those three little words the day she woke up in the Old State House on his couch and he would have meant it. But he didn’t think she felt the same way. He just assumed, well, what had he assumed? That she had just been making up her feelings all along? It just seemed too good to be true.
“Why are you terrified?” He decided to ask first, mainly because out of the entirety of her confession this concerned him the most. Her hand found the one caressing her hip and entwined her fingers with his, her digits playing with his idly.
“Because-” she sighed, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I’ve never…felt this way about anyone in my life. I’ve never really even been in a relationship before, actually. I never thought I’d find someone I wanted to share my life with. And now here I am, falling in love with you.” His heart leapt in his chest. “And I’m just afraid that I’ll mess this up somehow and you’ll find someone else…”
John stared at her blankly and for a moment Annabelle was worried that she had said something wrong. Was it too soon to tell him this? Fuck, she’d already screwed it up. She was scrambling for something to say to excuse what she’d done when he grabbed her face and met her lips with such force it nearly knocked the wind out of her.
She never tired of the heat behind every one of their kisses, the way he poured every ounce of focus and purpose he had into the moment, into her. His lips had long withered away but still felt soft all the same, their mouths moving frantically against one another with more passion than she’d ever felt in her life. He pulled her body flush against him and she gasped against his mouth, John using the moment to slide his tongue past her lips and massage the roof of her mouth. She wanted nothing more than just to melt into him; to freeze that moment and replay it for the rest of eternity until the world burned once again. He pulled away suddenly and Annabelle immediately longed for his lips against hers again.
“You’re afraid of losing me?” He asked, his breathless composure making her smile a little. “Are you fuckin’ serious? Y’think I’m gonna walk out on you?”
Annabelle laughed nervously under her breath. “Well, yeah, I mean-”
“You honestly think I would walk away from the woman of my dreams. Who I never, in a million fucking years, would even give a freak like me the time of day?”
“John!” She squeezed his hand. She hated hearing him talk like that. “You know I think you’re the most attractive man in the entire Commonwealth.”
“Still don’t know why.” He muttered, and she hit him in the chest lightly. “Anne, baby, I’d be a god damn fool to walk away from a goddess like you.”
She blushed deeply. “Even for someone that can use a shotgun correctly?” She was halfway kidding. She always worried that he would grow sick of having to do all of the work out in the ruins.
He chuckled. “Annabelle, honey, if I didn’t like protecting you out there I would have hauled your ass back to Goodneighbor and put you through Fahrenheit Bootcamp a long time ago.”
Annabelle giggled and sighed, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him close again. She nuzzled her nose against his cheek happily. “Okay.” She murmured, pressing another kiss to his lips.
