This is a series of one shots from Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I do not own any of the characters, of course.
All One Shots are in alphabetical order for your convenience.
Anything with an ➵ and a title has been reread, and (hopeful...
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I smiled to myself, "Ulysses, come check this out. You think it might be something?"
We were currently looking for scrap, and earlier that week I'd found an old tattered American flag. I'd managed to patch it up as best I could, and had hid it from him up until now, when I was ready to give it to him. He put down the wastebasket he was sifting through, and stood by my side, putting an arm around my shoulders. I smiled, holding up the flag, "I fixed this up for you."
I looked to him for a reaction, and he just stared at it numbly, taking it from my hands, and holding it in both of his, running his thumb over the rough fabric. He looked at one of the patches and smiled, looking to me, "This is the second time you've tried to patch America. You know as well as I do that it can't be done, darling."
I shrugged, "I know... but I can still give it a shot... can't I?"
He took my hand, walking us back to our campfire in an abandoned apartment complex with a large hole in the wall I used for sniping four stories above the Divide. He sat down, sitting with me, and wrapping the tattered flag around both of us, and allowing me to rest my head on his shoulder as our feet dangled above the dust we called home. He rested his cheek on my head, "I found something too... An article from our past, if you'd like to see it."
I remembered our last talk about how we were an item before he ran off to the Legion. We were still an item until I'd chosen to take the Platinum Chip instead of letting that other Courier do it. He told me it was that man's burden, and not mine, but I ignored him and nearly died because of it. Thus I was shot, and the part of my brain holding memory's of my past were blown from my skull and into the dirt. He kept a picture of us I'd found in his pocket at all times, so I was curious as to what else he might have gotten his hands on. He shifted how he was sitting to fish something from his pocket and place the two items in my palm.
I stared at them dumbly, "Are these...?"
He let out a soft chuckle, "Yeah. They are."
I stared at the two rings in my hand, my mind fogging and feeling as though it were stuffed like a turkey with the wrong materials. His ring was a thick gold band and mine was a smaller silver band; they were probably the best we could find in the Mojave. I slid mine onto my finger and held my hand out, admiring how it still fit perfectly. I looked to him, "You didn't tell me we were married..."
He smiled, "We weren't. Not yet, anyways. These were bindings of our engagement."
I looked to him, "Will you wear yours?"
He gently took it from my palm and slid it on his finger, taking my hand and tugging on the flag to keep it around our shoulders, "So long as you wear yours, darling."
