"I've got some bad news RJ." You managed to shout across the warehouse from behind your cover, your voice frail against the bullets soaring back and forth as your hands cupped a pool of blood running from your stomach.

"What's up?" He shouted back from behind the barrel of his rifle, nothing more than his hat poking above the dilapidated catwalk supports.

You held your hand up, it's scarlet film immediately catching his eyes. Despite the grenades and gunshots, the room slowly began to fade to black, your vision blacking out completely for seconds at a time. Between the patches of darkness, you could see him sprinting towards you, firing as he ran with what seemed to be a complete disregard for his own safety. It was a good length of time before you were back, you could feel an encroaching heat searing your skin, the brightness dazed you as your eyes opened, revealing a wall of flame around you.

"RJ!" The flames dampened your cries and the smoke filled your lungs; it was futile. Your outstretched hand crawled through a dancing flame; the steel struts of your pistol glowed white as you wrapped your hand tightly around it, trying to ignore the burning, searing agony. Neither were preferable, but you couldn't decide in that moment whether raiders or fire was worse.

The flames crept forward; the distinct smell of cheap alcohol came with it. Time seemed to slow down, you counted three bullets in the clip and prayed that the gun wouldn't malfunction as it did so many times as you brought the barrel up to your temple. Stiffly, the trigger walked backward and you closed your eyes for one final time.

A sharp pain spread suddenly from the back of your hand and the gun flew forward, engulfed fully by the fire and far out of reach. You looked back and through the thick smoke you could see the glint of a scope and the end of a barrel. Heavy boots met with rusted metal and through the cracking and roaring you heard them clambering towards you.

"I'm sorry." MacCready dove through the flames, a damp rag covering his mouth. "Things got a bit... heated." It was hard to understand him underneath his make-do mask. He coughed and spluttered as he hooked your legs, and carried you away.

"You came back?" You asked, the whole world a blur.

"I guess were even now?"

~*~

Written by Charlotte.