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It was one of those lazy afternoons where there was nothing to do. She's been flipping through an old issue of Live & Love, spread out on the bed; reminiscent of her college years when exams were just around the corner — though the company much better now than her annoying roommate. She glanced up from the magazine, a soft smile spreading on her lips; Danse was sitting on the sofa, lost in a book while Shaun tinkered with something at the desk — flipping on the radio that hummed with an upbeat song quietly.
The General's quarters became their little family home, spending most of her time at the Castle. It wasn't as quiet and peaceful as Sanctuary was; though nothing could really compare to the comforts of the old world. The space was a little tight though, with Shaun moving in to what was her and Danse's private spot before — a blessing in the bustling and ever awake fort.
The song changed after a short intermission, now playing a soft jazz song. She didn't think anything of it as the first beats filled the room — and then couldn't ask Shaun quick enough to turn it off. Her breathing turned heavy with gasps as the first lines of the song drifted across to her, the words mocking her for losing her hold on reality.
You got to accentuate the positive
Eliminate the negative
Her hands trembled, knuckles pale as she gripped the sheets; why did it have to happen again. She was faintly aware of Danse pulling her into a hug, his features blurry — she was safe now, she had to remember that. The noises in the room, probably Danse giving instructions to Shaun, faded into the background as she focused on staying there with them — muttering to herself against Danse's chest. No, no, no. She didn't want to cry, to go through this again — she should've said no to Preston and be the one to take Shaun someplace safe.
As she watched the Institute go up in flames, the scene changed before her eyes; replaying the October morning when the bombs fell — the song achieving the same. It was their song with Nate, many a memory attached to it; a first dance, engagement or the night she was so blue during her pregnancy.
Nate disappeared after dinner, telling her that he'd be back withing half an hour but there was an errand to run. She kissed him goodbye then headed to their bedroom; planning to read some before sleeping — maybe waiting up for him to return. Five minutes couldn't have passed when she flicked the magazine across the room; some teenagers making a racket outside and throwing pebbles at houses — she hasn't been happier to be wrong in her life. Peeking out the window, she saw Nate on the grass, a small holotape player by his feet; a box of chocolates and a bouquet of flowers in his hands. She remembered the first time Nate gave her a serenade; back in high school — Nate a year her senior.
But now the song only reminded her of what she lost; the fear and uncertainty of their future that filled her heart even centuries later. It was stupid, a tiny, weak voice called in her mind, she had a family now, Danse and Shaun, the Minutemen; the Commonwealth was prospering — there was nothing to fear. Her fingers felt heavy as she pressed a hand against Danse; she just had to focus on his heartbeat, match her own to it.
She started to become more aware of her surroundings; the worry etched onto Danse's face or the guilt on Shaun's — she probably scared him. Fingers combed through her hair, easing her out of the bad memories with quiet whispers — she didn't know what she would do without them.
"Hey, Shaun. Come here." Her voice was hoarse, from the crying or just the emotions overwhelming her mind, she wasn't sure — only that she wanted to comfort her baby boy that it was fine, that it wasn't his fault. He watched him stalk closer, the pout still on his lips — his face buried against her shoulder when she wrapped an arm around him. "It's okay, honey. I'm not mad at you."
"It's all right, mom. Danse told me it sometimes just happens with you. And best if I just let him deal with it." She chuckled softly, glad that Danse explained it to Shaun instead of yelling at him — though she shouldn't have been worried, he was a sweetheart even if Shaun wasn't his son.