Preston Garvey Week Day 3 - You Can Never Have Too Many Friends. Not in the Commonwealth.

ORIGINALLY WRITTEN: Summer 2026

NOTES: One of several entries into Preston Garvey (Appreciation) Week over on Tumblr!

For as long as he could remember, he’s heard about the inner workings of the Railroad. Nothing too specific, given the nature of their work, but enough to figure that they’d be formidable allies should the time come. It did, once Shepard found himself hot on the trail of the Institute. A few exchanged favors, and they were able to build the machinery necessary to break in and make things right again. To end the endless torment and increasingly common abductions of innocent folk. Of course, there was a caveat.

The Institute crumbled, and the Brotherhood of Steel—albeit temporarily—rose in its place.

All the Old World technology, and the new advancements? The birthplace of the Synths? They wanted it all, no matter the cost to those in the surrounding areas. Scouting teams immediately staked their claim on the rubble, threatening passersby as if they posed any credible threat. Tensions rose, conflicts became inevitable, and the people wanted—no, needed—to fight back. Yet those whispers of the Railroad also grew louder, especially when rumors of a few notable Brotherhood of Steel assets defecting to their cause came to light. While this was normally his boyfriend’s area of expertise, Preston needed to know what the situation was.

And besides, he owed Deacon and Noemi a chit chat.

Thankfully that part of his visit was brief, as he’d known just how long the others could go on and on about their shenanigans. Not that Preston ever minded, but he wanted to catch this supposed Brotherhood member before they had the chance to leave. And he did. She was stood next to the latter member of the aforementioned duo, their voices hushed as they leaned in and whispered about something or another. The new face—Lý Phan—leans in closer and presses a tentative kiss to Noemi’s freckled cheeks, earning a beaming smile and the enthused peppering of her own face. They exchange their goodbyes, and it’s as Noemi exits that the other realizes there was a witness to the exchange. Preston bows his head and waves, stepping into the alcove to introduce himself.

Their conversation is brief. Lý seems disinterested, but Preston’s able to parse the reality of her social distance: She’s built stronger walls than those surrounding the Boston Airport. Preston seems determined, but Lý’s uncertain as to why; why her, out of everyone else? It’s clear that he and Noemi know one another. He knows Deacon, too. Why does he need to know her?

The answer doesn’t become any clearer throughout their subsequent interactions. He drops by more regularly, often checking in with the leadership about some event or another. Always extending the olive branch, and getting intel or supplies in return. He stops by her spot each time after the fact, poking his head in and asking for a chat. For some reason, she entertains it despite the growing tightness in her chest. She’s fixing power armor or weaponry. She’s organizing papers and photographs. She’s charting supply lines—and that’s where they begin to bond. His expertise with the Minutemen allows him to offer insight, and the two find themselves lost in strategizing the most efficient routes for traders while avoiding the roaming patrols of her former compatriots.

He asks her about them, and she tells him the truth. All of it. She still doesn’t know why, not even as the pain in her chest vanishes and the tingling of her scars settles. They’re closer now, and she finds herself expecting his visits.

It’s why, when the situation on the surface grows worse, she finds herself confiding in him.

Lý sits beside Preston, gaze unfocused as it fixates ahead. Dark pupils scan over the same few dirt stains hoping that something will change; that an excuse to leave will pop up. They don’t. It doesn’t. She sighs and finally glances to him. When he meets her gaze, she looks away.

When she speaks, her voice is hoarse.

“When all of this is over? I’m getting out of this town.” Her hands fidget with the straps of her gloves. “Soon.”

Intrigue etches itself on his tired features, his posture changing slightly to lean into the conversation. She continues after a long pause, allowing the distant chatter of the other Railroad members to traverse through the crypt’s walls.

“I’ll die if I stay here.” Her gaze jolts to the archway as shadows dance across intangible lights. People pass by without a second thought. “I don’t know how, exactly, but I know it’s true.”

Another quiet moment passes, and Preston’s voice finally finds him. It’s quiet, though not quite hushed. He isn’t trying to be quiet. It’s stuck in his throat.

“If you leave, they won’t have someone to protect them.” He clears his throat. “From the Brotherhood, that is. They’re more than capable of defending themselves—of surviving—but… They don’t know the Brotherhood like you do.”

Lý’s gaze finds him again. It meets his as confusion etches itself on tired features. Her lips purse and she sits forward, pulling herself off the step and onto her feet. She takes a few steps forward as if beginning to leave, though stops when she hears the subtle shifting of cloth as Preston’s posture slumps. Her back finds itself pressed to one of the brick pillars, arms folding across her torso as she turns to face him. The shifting light accentuates the deep scarring stretching across her face.

“Maybe. But it’s my fault they got themselves on their radar in the first place. If I left—”

“Things wouldn’t be better.” Preston smiles a bit at the words, hearing the echoes of those who have told him the same thing time and time again. Sturges. Mama Murphy. Shepard… “But you don’t really know if they’d be worse, either. It’s a risk like that. You leave, and things might stay the same, or they might get worse. You might hear about it, you might not. The only thing you’re left with is uncertainty. And if there’s anything Naomi’s told me about you—”

“Don’t—” She can’t help the way her lips twitch and her voice tilts. There’s a fondness in her eyes as she attempts to chide him, knowing the sorts of gossip her partner could get into.

“It’s that you and uncertainty don’t mix.”

“Does it really ever mix with anybody?”

It was his turn to laugh, his breath hitching as he snickered and shook his head. “You got me there. But… I mean it, you know. I can’t say everything happens for a reason, because that implies we can figure out why they happen, but they happened. What matters now is what you do with that information.”

As much as she doesn’t want to admit it, Lý knows he’s right. If she didn’t know any better, she’d assume that with a mentality like that? That Preston was trained under someone like Danse; she’d heard the same thing from him. Said the same things when he ran away from it all…

She sighs. “And you… well—we know that I can help people. So I should stay. See the fight through… And hope to see the day the fighting stops, yeah?”

“Exactly. Besides helping people and gaining a sense of pride… You gain community. A place to belong. You can never have too many friends. Not in the Commonwealth. The Railroad, the Minutemen… We’re all here. The Commonwealth belongs to us all, and it’s all our jobs to protect it.” He nods, pausing briefly to offer a reassuring look. “And yes, you heard me. We got your back, too, Lý. I got your back.”