Fallout: Fury Blood

Chapter 20: Interlude

The aftermath of the first assault was a medley of elation and mourning, the dead being gathered and set out to rest above the quarry to later be buried. The tension brewing between the Minutemen and Brotherhood was palpable, and a brief squabble broke out over whose snipers should be posted where, but eventually, after a hard word from Danse, they settled the matter and had the quarry secured and patrolled in little time. It was a feat in itself that he was acting as mediator between the two factions.

From then on, Kelly's senses were piqued for Danse, eyes following his every move around the quarry as he patrolled and surveyed his men, keeping the tension between the two forces on his leash. She made sure she was always aware of where he was and what he was doing. Just like any good soldier was aware of her comrades at all times, just like any good friend was aware. Not that she was a good friend.

The crew had crowded around restlessly while the Scribes, accompanied by Curie, ushered Kelly over to a slab of cement and sat her down to tend to her condition, pricking her with Stimpaks and wrapping her in field dressings. It irked the shit out of her, especially when they hovered around and blocked her view of Danse, which then led her to leaning past them, and in turn, making it blatantly obvious that she was ogling him like some love-sick puppy.

"You really must take more care for your safety in combat, Mademoiselle," Curie interrupted her spying session. Kelly just hummed in distracted agreement. Most of the damage was superficial, but debilitating, nonetheless, and she was appreciative of the extra dose of Med-X prescribed for her. She kept a tight lip on the fact that she was already swimming in an array of chems.

"Miss Kelly," Codsworth fretted next on gliding approach. "Are you certain that you'll be up to going deeper into that quarry? You do look like you took some rather nasty knocks."

Kelly mustered her best smile of reassurance. "I'll be fine, Codsworth. I've had it worse." And I have chems.

"Well, alright. But one more injury, and I'll be putting my figurative foot down!"

"Nick," Kelly then summoned, while Curie was dabbing and prodding at her bullet wound. The synth came closer and knelt before her, his presence alone giving her a sense of stability. "Preston?" she asked bluntly. She almost didn't want to know.

Nick's lucid eyes blinked solemnly before answering. "He caught one pretty good in the chest, but a Minutemen medic got to him pretty darn fast and managed to stop the bleeding. We think he'll be alright, so no need to worry too much. He did tell us to tell you not to worry." He patted at her knee, like a father would when comforting his daughter.

Kelly released her hostage breath, letting her shoulders fall. "Shit. Of course he did." She peered around at everyone as they hovered, looking every bit like the rag-tag assortment that they were, inspecting them for injuries. "Everyone else still have their ass attached?" They all gave positive answers, and for that she was thankful beyond measure. Even Clay-Crawler was up and full of life, as if his face had never been acquainted with metal knuckles. Maybe the specimen mutations had helped him out with that.

"Unlike yourself," Hancock spoke up, sauntering closer with an impressed tug on his mouth. "You look like shit, sister."

She scoffed, canting a brow. "And you don't?"

A short laugh trickled from him as he languidly sat down next to her. "I'll give you that one. Never expected you'd be such a scrapper. Nice to not be the only muscle for a change."