FO4 | Book 1: Bombs on Monday Morning ✔️

Ch 15: Deserving

MacCready and I rested before traveling to Diamond City. We went back to the Third Rail where he let me sleep on one of the couches in his usual room. It was a restless sleep due to the noise in the next room and it being an unfamiliar place, but I got the rest that I needed to be fit for travel.

We stopped by the gun surplus store beside Daisy's shop — which was oddly enough run by a Securitron that thought of itself as an independent and sultry woman — and bought a little more ammo for the trip. MacCready looked like it killed him to hand over his caps for more sniper ammo.

I took the liberty of buying a brush from Daisy. She didn't have any hair ties, but she did have some twine that she gave me for free. It took me a few minutes to brush the tangles out of my dirty hair before we left. I used the twine to tie my hair up in a messy bun on top of my head.

MacCready — when he wasn't being a smartass — proved to be an easy companion to travel with. His proficiency with a sniper rifle was phenomenal. He spotted a Super Mutant over sixty feet away prowling the road we needed to take and killed it quickly and efficiently with a headshot.

He had an odd way of avoiding curse words. He complained only a little about how walking makes him tired and how he never seems to have enough caps. He sometimes complained about my hair and how no one had hair this long anymore. Other moments, he decided to complain about my jumpsuit and told me to change it.

I tightened my hands into fists and breathed in and out when he started to get on my nerves. I couldn't afford to lose my teacher, so I thought it best not to fight with him. I've already invested my time and money into MacCready.

We made it to Diamond City that afternoon and walked through the marketplace. MacCready seemed to know where he was going.

"There." He pointed a finger at a sign with a mannequin beside it. "Down those stairs is Becky's shop. She sells clothing in good condition and some other rare apparel."

"Okay, let's go see if she had a hazard suit."

We walked down the steps and into the shop, the little bell over the door ringing upon our entrance. Inside the dimly lit room, there were more mannequins wearing different outfits and a lot of tables covered in folded shirts and pants. There were also a few clothing racks against the far wall with jumpsuits and dresses. I spotted a Vault Suit for Vault 81 in the mix.

"Hello. Have you been here before?" asked a woman that walked out from behind a changing screen. She had a t-shirt in her hands that she was refolding.

I assumed this was Becky Fallon herself. She had gray hair up in a bun. She was slightly pale with dark freckles on her cheeks, and a downturned mouth. She wore an incredibly clean orange button-up shirt — without a single missing button — and a pair of capris. Her sneakers looked almost as pristine as the rest of her attire.

"No, this is my first time."

"I thought so." She looked me up and down. "Some ground rules. This isn't a charity. Clothes are for sale if you have the money. Otherwise, the door's right there." She pointed behind us.

I was slightly taken aback at her assumptions, wondering if she treated all newcomers this way. "I wasn't planning on mooching," I muttered.

"Yeah, all that goes without saying," MacCready added.

"As long as we understand each other," she continued. "Now that that's out of the way, welcome to Fallon's Basement. Happy to show you everything in stock."

Something clicked in my mind then. "Fallon's Basement. Interesting name... It wouldn't happen to be related to the Fallon's clothing store from before the war, would it?"