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Preston is warm when Danse collapses against his chest. He's tired, and he could definitely use a Stimpak, but that can wait. Preston might not agree with him, but Danse doesn't care. The Stimpak can wait.
"Are you okay?" Preston murmurs against the side of his head. There's blood in his hair and on his face, and he knows he's crying. He's not sure when Preston had started rocking him, but it's comforting.
Danse can't say anything. He doesn't know what he would say if there were words in his mouth. So he drops his rifle and clings to Preston instead, and he sighs when Preston's hand strokes his hair. He isn't okay, he knows that much.
"I've got you," Preston says. He doesn't tell him that it's okay, not once. He knows it's not. He promises instead that it will be. Danse doesn't think he should promise that, but he's too tired to argue. "It'll be okay."
The explosion of the vertibird makes him flinch, even as far away as it is. It's a painful reminder that he's no longer a Paladin, no longer part of the only thing that had meant anything in his life. A painful reminder that he's to be shot and killed on sight, unless he can evade them or take them down first.
He suddenly realizes that Preston is kissing his temple and gently shushing him still. Maybe his new life can be better than his old one; maybe he and Preston can pick up the pieces together and build something better and shinier from the shards.
"I apologize," Danse murmurs when he steps away.
"Hey," Preston says as his hand comes up to Danse's face. "It will be okay."
He's tired, and he could definitely use a Stimpak.