This weeks Writing Prompt was to write a story based on a song. I picked What a Wonderful World, but it was by a different artist, and it had a completely different atmosphere. That’s exactly why I picked it. People might still take the song for the context that it was originally composed to fit inside of. Some people might listen to it, hear the tones, and think that it’s about the exact opposite.
Warning… uhm… I’m the exact opposite. This is a Fallout 4 fanfic (I do those a lot) that is completely AU, and would never happen to my poor baby Quinn ;-; And yet…
What A Wonderful World
The grave was as cold as the day that I’d dug it, the ground just as wet – I knew that it had stopped raining in the half a year since the shovel had hit the ground, but it didn’t feel like it. Everything was gray, and a blur, and there was nothing but the clouds and the rain. Sanctuary Hills was under the constant cover of lament, and it hadn’t lifted since the day that Quinn had sacrificed himself to save us all.
Our General had died, because I wasn’t strong enough to stand by his side and make sure that he pulled out of the scenario with his life.
The Gunners had attacked, and they’d been more furious than I’d seen in a long time – the man who led them moved with a swift fury and violent opposition that I’d never seen before. At first, I thought that he had to be radiated – that he had to be something… but no, he was just a beautiful man; a beautiful redhead who cut through the outer defenses of the Minutemen as though they were rag dolls and paper.
I’ve never seen such a mixture of fury and void mixed into such lovely lilac eyes, but the man encompassed it all, and he took out men who were equipped in combat armor, who carried laser pistols, with nothing more than a knife.
Quinn had been acting strange for days – his eyes had drifted to the horizon more often than I would have liked, and he wasn’t eating. There’d been a battle outside of Goodneighbor, and I knew that people that he’d cared for had fallen. Paladin Danse, the young sniper MacCready. They’d both been cut down by a group of raiders that had banded with Super Mutants in an attempt to take over the city. Quinn had come home covered in blood, and his eyes had been just as dead as the man who led the gunners.
Only, they weren’t dead when he stood on that day – they were full and burning with something, and he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to my forehead. “Preston, it’s going to be up to you. The world can still be something, if it has a general to lead it.”
“But General–” Quinn hadn’t listened. He’d darted out of the safe walls that we’d built around Sanctuary Hills, and the redheaded man had smiled. I had tried to follow him, but Quinn had done something, and the door wouldn’t open. I could do nothing more than to stare through a grate as he stepped forward.
“Jack, you can’t take it out on the Minutemen. They didn’t do it.”
The redhead’s eyes had narrowed, and his full lips actually quivered for a moment before he sneered. “They were supposed to serve and protect.” And then, his eyes narrowed and focused on Quinn’s face – it was bruised and cut; he’d come back from the fight torn up, and for the first time since I’d known him, I hadn’t seen him use a stimpak. “I trusted you to look after him.”
I could see something close to defeat and pain rock through Quinn’s body, but he held his shoulders straight. “You know you aren’t here for them, then.” He stepped forward, his hands on his pistols, though they weren’t drawn yet. The men behind the redhead had stopped, watching him with a reverence and something akin to fear shining in their eyes. No one dared shoot – no one dared speak.
“I’m here for him.” The word hissed out of his lungs on a tidal wave of pain that rocked through me, though I had no idea who this him that the man Quinn had called Jack was.
“I know.” Quinn’s voice was soft, and he took a step forward – the gunner’s raised their weapons. Without turning, the man named Jack snarled a command, and those weapons lowered. He was looking at Quinn now, and there was something on his face. Another snarled command, and the men and women started to retreat, until it was just Quinn and the redhead there. Night was falling, and they were far enough away from Sanctuary that it was hard to hear what they were saying, hard to see them…
But I watched as Quinn stepped forward.
“Jack, I did everything that I could, I–”
“That’s not good enough!” The silver blade flashed, and it caught Quinn across the cheek. It was dark, but I could still see the rivulet of scarlet that came from his cheek. My shoulder hit the door then. Hard, harder… harder until I could hear it crack.
Harder, until I burst through it and started running towards them.
“I know it’s not. I know it wasn’t. Jack…” Quinn stepped forward then, and he whispered something into the redhead’s ear. Lilac eyes flared, his mouth dropped open, and Quinn pulled back. There was a soft smile on his face, and his full lips were trembling.
“Quinn..?” Red brows knit together in confusion – I could see a mixture of that fury, that void… and a new pain blossoming across Jack’s features. He looked at Quinn as though what he’s just said was crazy, and the General nodded, closing his eyes and dropping his pistols to the ground.
The red knife struck home true – deep and quick into the center of Quinn’s chest. He fell to the ground as the first droplet of rain fell against my cheek.
Jack, spattered with the spray of Quinn’s blood and looking even more lost than he had before he came here looked up at me as I screamed. His fingers dropped the knife that he held, as though they’d gone numb… and then he took one step back – another… and he ran, dissolving into the darkness before I could pull out my gun to shoot him.
“Quinn!” I shouted the General’s name, but he hadn’t answered me… there was a smile on his face, a blood from the corner of his mouth. His eyes were open, but his lids were fluttering. I could have chased Jack, I could have followed him into the darkness and enacted some kind of revenge, but I fell to Quinn’s side instead.
His lips were moving, mumbling… and when I leaned in close, he was whispering something.
“What a wonderful world…” He was murmuring, and I let out a small, pained sound, trying to bring my hands to his chest, trying to stop the blood flow.
“Quinn, please… we need to get back to base. We need–” I wasn’t sure what we needed, because I’d seen wounds like this, and you didn’t recover. but Quinn was talking again, and I had to lean closer to hear the words that came with his fleeting breath.
“Missed you, too, Sil. Fuck, I missed you.” His hand shifted, reaching for something that I couldn’t see, and then it fell to the ground.
I pulled back, my hands sopping heat where they tried to stop the knife wound. I didn’t have a stim on me, and when I looked at his face, I knew that it wouldn’t matter.
Quinn had a soft smile on his face, and one solitary tear was spilling from the corner of his eye – I’d never seen him cry before. But his eyes… those beautiful green eyes that had been so full of fire and passion – that had liberated the Commonwealth from the menace of the Institute… looked up at the sky blankly and saw no more.
The rain had started then.
Wow. So o-o uhm, I know a lot of people who read this won’t understand a damn bit of why this is so sad. But this is the mood that it put me in o—–o I’m just gonna leave this here and go sob in a corner.
Kayla Dore | Prowling Thunder
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I can’t wait to see what you guys come up with! Just remember to keep reading and writing, and keep being awesome!
Author Amanda McCormick
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