Cleaning out some old short story files and came across some Fallout 4 headcanons and shorts. This is one of the few finished ones. Ah, my Deacon. My Sole adores him. (also please don't come for me for changing Dogmeat's name - it's just such a weird name for the most goodest boy ever. Rocky comes from Red Rocket where she found him and there's a story behind the name but it's not important for this go round)
Looking back on it, she was actually pretty surprised he told her his name. Sure, he had trusted her, and only her that she knew of, with a small glimpse into his true past. She knew about his youth...and Barbara. But his name was a secret she’d thought his heart would never release. A part of himself that was locked away.
They were holed up in a half destroyed house somewhere south of Diamond City. At some point someone had dragged an old mattress into what had once been a bathroom and patched up the biggest of the holes in the walls and ceiling. To enter, they’d had to duck through a crumpled doorway and traverse a broken staircase that had held their weight pretty well considering the condition of the rest of the building. Outwardly, the house looked like it was useless as a refuge meaning there was little chance of them being attacked. The way his nose had crinkled in approval meant he’d already mentally added this place to his short list of safe places to camp out for a day or so. She didn’t bother to remind him that the Railroad didn’t need so many safehouses anymore, with the Institute gone and the Brotherhood retreated.
He’d been silent for awhile. He had been most of the day. He got like that sometimes. His glibness would fade away and he’d be quiet and watchful. Once or twice now he’d simply disappeared for a few days. He always returned.
“Can’t leave you alone for too long. The wild things you get up to. Liable to come back to a rowdy quilting party or something.”
They could have stayed at one of the settlements, always welcoming to the Minuteman General and her companions, but she’d sensed his lack of desire to be around people and had drifted them toward this little camp, hoping it would ensure she didn’t wake up alone wondering when (or if) he would appear again.
They had enough corn cakes and mutfruit to forego a fire and the night was warm enough they’d just laid down to sleep. She’d intended to keep her distance but he’d surprised her by scooting himself closer after she’d settled herself down.
They’d lain quiet for some time, both dozing - or so she’d assumed. Suddenly, he’d spoken, voice soft. A single word. A name.
“Hmm?” She was half-asleep, one hand methodically scratching at Rocky’s ears. The dog was, as always, draped over her, his big head nestled on her hip.
“That’s...uh...that’s my name.” A beat. “My...real name.”
Even in the dim moonlight, green eyes were able to meet soft blue ones. She repeated the name.
“Yeah. Not all that impressive, right? But...there it is.” Another beat. “I just thought...you should know it. You know. Confession time.”
She considered him silently. She prided herself on being one of the few people who had always been able to tell when he was spinning the tales he’d blanketed himself in for so long. This was not one of those times.
“So you want me to call you that from now on?”
“I...uh...I don’t know.” He sat up. “I haven’t been him in a long time. Not since Barbara. I’m not sure I know how to be him anymore.”
“Who says you have to be? I’m not the same person I was before either. Obviously.”
She pushed Rocky off her and sat up as well. She started to slip an arm around his waist and felt him tense. She waited. They were no longer just friends, but the relationship they’d been forging since the fall of the Institute was still new and fragile for both of them. After a moment, he relaxed and she took that as a cue to wrap both arms around him and lean her head against his shoulder.
“Deek, none of us stays the same forever. The world changes. We adapt.” She laughed softly. “I should know.”
“I know.” He laid a hand over hers. “Maybe it’s time for me to adapt again.”
“If you’re thinking about going in for one of your face mods, you’d better think again.” She touched her nose and then a gentle kiss to his rough cheek. “I rather like this one, thank you.”
“Ha. Poor you. Stuck with this mug.” He let out a soft snort. “Nah, I was just thinking maybe...maybe I don’t have to do the whole mysterious stranger thing as much.”
“Well. Not with me anyway.” She considered it. “You were Deacon when I met you. It fits.”
“Plus if I changed it I’d have to get new business cards, huh?”
He twisted so he could look at her fully. “We, uh...we good?”
“Always.” The word came softly, followed just as softly by his lips against hers.
He laid back down. The way his whole body seemed more relaxed told her the brooding silence of the last few days was over. She joined him, snuggling herself fully into him and tucked her head under his chin. Rocky huffed, a reprimand for his rest being disturbed, and resumed his place half on top of his mistress. He poked his warm nose into Deacon’s hand and snuffled with satisfaction when the man took over scratching between his ears.
“Oh, that’s a mistake right there. He’s never going to let you stop now.”
He hummed into her hair. “Guess I’ll have to stick around then.”
2087
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