They found a place to stay for the night in a settlement at Jamaica Plain; Aurora felt she had to repay their kindness by offering her medical knowledge. So, as MacCready rested his leg in one of their wooden shacks, she was out being a nurse to those sick or injured.

All he could think about was what she had told him about Joshua. He still found it hard to believe that she had had a kid; she gave off a cold first impression, one who preferred distance—not at all like a caring mother should be. But now that he's gotten to know her, her natural caring personality made more sense as just being repressed to protect herself.

He could imagine her having a happy, carefree life with a son—the picture of her laughing just fit her. But now, she smiled little, and he could tell she wasn't happy—Joshua being taken from her must have caused her change. How else could a mother and a devoted nurse be driven to become a mercenary?

She had just exposed herself to him—told him her reason and purpose for life. Why couldn't he do the same? Aurora had been so brave to stay with Joshua and hold his hand as he died; on the other hand, MacCready had run—abandoning Duncan to suffer alone. He told himself he had left to search for a cure, but he only kidded himself—he had left out of selfish reasons. He was a coward.

Aurora walked in when it grew evening outside. "How's my patient?"

"Fine; room service here sucks, though."

She cut her eyes at him as she seated on his bed. "Careful; I'm a nurse, so I know medicines that can mess with you." She unwrapped the bloody bandages to check on his wound. "Does it hurt much?"

"No, I barely feel it."

"The stimpak's doing its job, then." Aurora completely unwrapped his leg and replaced the bloody bandages with fresh ones.

No, it's because of the nurse I have.

The thought came out of nowhere and shocked him; he hadn't so much as looked at another woman since Lucy died. Aurora was a beautiful woman and admirable for her strength and her inclination to help others; she also taking part in inappropriate activities—like stealing, breaking into buildings, and cursing—made her even more attractive. There was just something about a woman up for breaking the law; Lucy had been such a stickler about the law that he didn't want to disappoint her by being himself. With Aurora, though, she didn't look down at him—she was right beside him stealing something.

He braced himself to talk. "Aurora, can I—"

A male settler walked in and interrupted. "Aurora, there's a group of settlers that just came in; some are suffering stings from Stingwings. Can I ask you to help?"

She looked at MacCready; he waved her on. "Later; go help."

She gave him a small smile, then got up to follow the settler out to the new patients; he would talk with her later, after he took a nap.

***

MacCready's thoughts running rampant didn't let him sleep, so he went out in search of Aurora. Night had fallen when he limped out of the shack: settlers were seated around campfires talking and eating. The smell of cooking food made his empty stomach growl; he would eat after he talked with his employer.

He spotted her seated on a bench and eating by herself; a fire burned in the wire barrel in front of her, highlighting her face as her black armor blended into the darkness. She picked at the boxed food with a fork—looking to be Cram. He headed over to her.

MacCready sat down beside her on the bench without a word.

"Hungry?" she asked.

"I'll eat later."

Why was he so nervous about opening his mouth?

"I've been... I've been thinking about what you told me and how personal it was; it must've taken a lot to tell me. So, to even the scales, I'll tell you about me."

He saw her face turn to him. "You don't owe me a favor; telling you about Joshua wasn't meant to put you in debt to me. It wasn't anything to tell you."

"To me, it was; it meant you trust me to tell me something close to your heart. I know you didn't mean it to guilt-trip me, but I feel I should return the favor. I feel like I can talk to you, and you'll understand. Just let me do this, Aurora."

She hesitated for a little while; she sighed. "Alright."

"Thank you." MacCready took a heavy sigh. Where to begin? Best just to start at the beginning. "I'm completely self-taught, you know. Picked up a sniper rifle when I was ten and I never looked back."

Aurora stared at him. "You're kidding."

He shook his head. "No bullsh—crap. Always thought it smarter to hit my targets at long range. I mean, why take chances, right? Besides, I had to come up with every trick in the book to survive the Capital Wasteland."

"You're from the Capital Wasteland?"

"Lived underground in a place called Little Lamplight with a bunch of other kids; left there when I was around sixteen. We kind of had a policy there: no adults. When you were sixteen, you packed up and left. Having adults around was something we couldn't trust."

"Sounds like a good policy to me," she said.

"It was, if not uncivilized, with a bunch of undisciplined kids running around. Anyway, when I left, I ended up wandering the Capital Wasteland for a while. I took the odd job here and there, but things were pretty hot with the Brotherhood of Steel running the show. So, I hitched a ride with a caravan and made my way north until I ended up here. Made a pretty decent name for myself, then, ya know—the whole Gunners thing happened. Biggest mistake of my life. I went with them for a while because the caps were good. But I dunno, I guess it started to catch up with me, so I quit."

"That's in your past, now; you can start anew. Don't think about it anymore," Aurora encouraged.

He turned to her. "I haven't thanked you for helping me out."

She smiled. "You don't have to thank me—your soul was burdened, and it needed to be lightened." She chuckled. "Plus, killing Gunners is what I live for."

It's still burdened, though. MacCready honestly didn't want to tell her the rest—he didn't think he could take her looking down on him. But he had come out to tell her, so he just had to take a chance.

"You stuck your neck out for me and I don't forget shi—" He stopped himself. "Err, I mean, things like that."

"Stopping yourself from cursing again? Why do you keep doing that?"

"I figured you'd ask me about it sooner or later. It's not about you; it's a promise I made." He took a breath—here goes nothing. "When I left the Capital Wasteland, I didn't just leave Little Lamplight... I left my family behind. Had a beautiful wife named Lucy and a son we named Duncan. He's the one I made my promise to: a promise to clean up my act and to be a better person. I guess that sounds pretty stupid coming from a guy who shoots people for a living.

"But my son... he's sick; I don't know what's wrong with him. One day, he's playing out in the fields behind our farm; the next he took a fever and these blue boils popped up all over his body. Last I saw, he was almost too weak to walk. I didn't dare ask him to come with me. Honestly, I don't know how much longer he's going to last."

Aurora was quiet. "I don't know what to say..."

"Yeah, you do; you want to say, 'how could you?' and call me a coward for leaving my son to die."

"No; no, I don't. I understand wanting to run, to escape the pain of watching a loved one suffer. Trust me, I do. I thought about running away when Joshua got sick; I felt so helpless, but I didn't go because Joshua needed me. I stayed to comfort him; he was so scared, and I gave him strength by staying by his side. Thinking that I helped ease his passing has been the only thing I've held onto all these years.

"So, no, I don't see you as a coward; I see a father wanting to do everything he can to save his son, even leaving him safe behind to search a dangerous world for a cure."

MacCready hadn't thought of his actions like that; Aurora viewed him as heroic, and he had never had someone look at him that way. She believed in him, and that meant so much.

She blinked away the moisture brimming in her eyes. "Have you gotten any leads?"

He snapped out of the allure of her eyes. "I think so. A few months before we met, I bumped into a man named Sinclair who claimed his buddy had caught some kind of disease. At first, I thought it was nothing until he mentioned blue boils—just like Duncan's. They had plans to find a cure in Med-Tek Research, but Sinclair's buddy died before they could go; he gave me the password to override the security lockdown and wished me luck."

"Do you know where this Med-Tek Research is?"

He looked at her—hope shined bright in her eyes. "You want to go?"

"Of course! I want to help you save your son, too."

"What about Clive?"

She dismissed him with a wave of her hand. "He can wait; your son might not have time."

He was so happy she would be with him. "Yeah, I know where it is."

"Then we'll go as soon as you're 100% again. Knowing how your missions go, this isn't going to be easy."

He chuckled. "No, probably not. But what you're doing... no one's ever cared that much about me before." He looked at her. "Even if it takes me the rest of my life, I'll repay this debt to you; I swear it."

She averted her eyes. "You really need to stop viewing everything as favors or debts; I'm doing this because you need help and I'm here—there's nothing attached to it. Friends help each other without expecting a return."

Friends; she considered him a friend—he never thought he'd hear something like that. "Since when did you consider this hired-killer a friend?"

She laughed. "Not when I hired you to help me kill someone." Aurora thought about it. "Probably when you saved me at The Slate Gate. I know others would've watched me walk off and say, 'good riddance'."

Those that would have were idiots. He caught sight of the semi-eaten box of Cram in her hand; his stomach growled to remind him. "Are you going to eat the rest of that?"

Aurora handed it over.