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In just one word, Deacon was concerned. He had watched anxiously as Whisper climbed onto the platform built by Sturges.
And for the handyman’s sake, Deacon knew he was a pretty damn brilliant inventor. He had followed the child-like instructions to a T and created something Deacon knew he himself never could. He had even been tempted to enlist the aid of Tinker Tom, but Sturges had managed to impress the spy, and even had the patience to explain all the little details to him. “It will work, Deacon. No doubt in my mind.”
Of course it would work. Deacon had no doubt either. But his anxiety had heightened even more as the lights started to pulsate and the top began to spin fervently. A tube had even broken loose and started waving around. Deacon had seen Whisper give it a brief surprised look before Sturges hurriedly assured her it was no big deal. Instead of worrying about it, he had continued keying away at the terminal, shrugging the whole thing off. Whisper had turned back to face Sturges but Deacon saw that she had kept eyeing the tube with some caution.
“Alright, here we go!” Sturges glanced over his shoulder at her with a grin. “Three… two… one!”
Right before she had vanished into a flash and curtain of white-blue light, her large green eyes landed on Deacon and he offered a brave smile, nodding once at her. He barely caught her return smile before she was gone.
Now all that was left was to wait. He had no idea how long of a wait it would be, but he would be right there the moment that she reappeared.
If she -... the thought started to form in his head but he abruptly stopped it. No. He could not think that way. Of course, he was no stranger to the fact that things will not always go as planned. As stated, it is just a fact.
He looked around the general area. Sturges was examining the now busted teleportation relay, looking thoroughly disappointed to see it burnt out so quickly. Hancock and MacCready were leaning against the wall of the closest yellow house, talking with each other about all of the possibilities Whisper had down below. What the Institute must look like. A small part of Deacon wanted to join them, just purely for a distraction. But he did not. He did not want to talk about Whisper’s adventure, and he also knew Mayor Hancock was not his biggest fan in the Commonwealth.
Deacon turned away, throwing a brief glance over his shoulder, pleased that no one was paying any attention to him. Even Dogmeat was busy sitting near Sturges, staring transfixed at the spot where she had vanished. The spy made off into the trees, circling around the back of the houses to find the underground bunker he had started spending time in. It was pure luck someone had crafted it behind their house before the war. Deacon had modified the metal doors to look like a pile of leaves and branches, nothing too exciting. The other Sanctuary inhabitants rarely came back this way, anyway. But one could never be too careful.
As he climbed down the ladder and pulled the doors shut over his head, Deacon’s thoughts kept swirling with a franticness he had not felt since the Switchboard.
They could just shoot her on sight…
She is an outsider, surely she will not be welcomed.
They will not take too kindly to a surface dweller just teleporting in like she owns the place. We should have thought this through a little more.
He sat down hard on the mattress that rested on some concrete blocks and wood boards, dropping his head into his hands, feeling his wig shift dangerously close to falling off. He grabbed it and set it beside him, along with his sunglasses.
Along with the worries about what may or may not be happening to Whisper, others thoughts crept into his mind, demanding his attention. When had he started to care so much for her? What exactly are these feelings? It definitely seemed like… infatuation. But, Deacon knew what falling for someone felt like, didn’t he? He still remembered how he had felt when he fell for Barbara. Would it not be the same warm and fuzzy feeling?
Deacon grabbed a can of purified water and popped it open, taking a slow and deliberating drink. Whisper was not like any other person he had ever met before, and it likened that to her prewar status. He liked how she tried to keep as clean as possible and he liked the way her face would light up when she found something prewar, like bubblegum. She was… well, she was just beautiful, inside and outside.
Too beautiful for a face-changing liar like me, Deacon thought with a little bitterness tainting his thoughts. She always said the two of them were best friends, two peas in a friend pod. He doubted she felt anything further than that, she had plenty of others to choose from who would be much better for her-
Deacon’s pondering came to an abrupt halt. Why was he even thinking about that? He finished his water and crushed the can, tossing it into the corner. He could not deny it… he had developed feelings for Whisper at some point and they were coming out.
“This is just great…” he muttered, rubbing his hands down his face and sighing heavily. His best chance was to forget these feelings even exist and continue on like they had been. As friends. The last thing he wants to do is make her feel uncomfortable and stop hanging around him. She has others to choose from… He supposed Preston could be a good match. Or maybe Hancock. When Paladin Danse crossed his mind, Deacon tasted something sour in his mouth and shook his head. No… that one he would have to intervene on and try to stop.
Checking to make sure his overhead doors were latched, Deacon decided to take a nap and recharge. Maybe it would help clear his head when he woke. As well as lessen the time waiting for Whisper’s return.
He knew she would have a lot to tell him… and maybe, just maybe, he may have much to tell her as well.