Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Nora had a lot of nicknames. General. Vault-Dweller. Blue. She didn’t mind them, typically. It was kind of nice to know how people saw you, where you stood. But there was one that was really starting to grate on her.

“Civilian. You’re back.”

Danse’s voice was tinny through the speakers of his helmet. He stood on the porch of the police station, rifle cradled in his arms as he kept guard in the fading evening light.

“Yep. Got some supplies for you,” Nora said, gesturing to the duffle she carried as she made her way through their barricade and decided, yet again, that now wasn’t the time to get into an argument about titles. She was technically a civilian in the eyes of the Brotherhood. She wasn’t part of whatever new-world military Danse and the others were representing out here. But she was the General of the Minutemen, for crying out loud. Didn’t that count for anything? Shouldn’t she outrank Paladin Danse? Even when Danse and Knight Rhys tested the utmost limits of her patience, she hadn’t raised that point. Nora had a feeling it would lead to some lecture on Brotherhood history and hierarchy, and she certainly didn’t want to sit through something like that.

It irked her that Danse, Rhys, and—to a lesser extent—Haylen spoke down to her. They acted as if she couldn’t possibly understand their work here in the Commonwealth. Nora had been in the service before the war, before everything that had happened since she’d left the vault a few months ago, and she still remembered what it was like to be a soldier. The closeness of the Brotherhood’s bond, their sense of righteousness—it made her think of her own days in the military. Part of her missed it. Part of her wanted to smack all of them and tell them to wake up. Nora wasn’t sold on the Brotherhood’s ideology; they sought domination and left no room for compromise. But she had to admit that it was refreshing to see people out here trying to make the world a better place. Nora had come across all sorts of people since leaving the vault, and not all of them had honest intentions. Some, while not outright raiders, still just wanted to mooch off others. Some things never changed. 

The Brotherhood seemed like it could be a powerful ally here, and those were in short supply. She liked helping the Minutemen, but she knew those people were mostly farmers, not soldiers. If the need arose, it might be useful to have a Brotherhood paladin on her good side. Nora decided could play along when necessary, follow Danse’s orders and stand at attention. She got the feeling that Danse appreciated that. If there was a bit of sarcasm to her actions, she didn’t let him see.

Nora had seen Danse’s combat capabilities at ArcJet; he had some serious firepower and a good head on his shoulders. He was a good leader and battlefield tactician. So Nora hid her eyeroll at Danse’s military jargon, bit her tongue when he waxed poetic about the glory of the Brotherhood. But the man was testing her patience with every monologue.

Despite how high-and-mighty Danse and Rhys acted, Nora still felt a pang of sympathy for their plight. The Brotherhood outpost at the police station had become just one more settlement Nora visited periodically. The three soldiers there making their stand against a hostile world struck a chord with her. Nora knew they wouldn’t take kindly to her sympathy, so she kept that hidden deep down. But hearing Danse’s voice grow taught when he’d talked about the men they lost, hearing them speak so hopefully about their siblings in arms coming to support them…it tugged at Nora’s heartstrings. They were just trying to survive, like everyone else out here. 

She brought them supplies when she could: some produce from the larger farming settlements, ammo and meds she found while picking through ruins. It felt good to be able to lend a hand. It gave her something to focus on, a sense of purpose when everything else was strange and terrifying. 

“Supplies? I don’t recall requesting anything. Was that Haylen’s idea?” Danse asked as Nora made her way up the steps toward the door.

“Nope,” she said, blithely skirting past him and entering the station. 

“You’re back,” Haylen said with a note of enthusiasm. She was always more welcoming, seemingly more practical about their situation here: no matter how much it hurt Danse’s and Rhys’ pride, they could not afford to turn down help. “How are things out there?”

“Well, it’s still an irradiated wasteland full of monsters,” Nora pointed out dryly, “so there’s room for improvement. But in better news, I managed to scrounge up some food and ammo for you.” She set the duffle bag on one of the empty desks and unzipped it to reveal her stash.

Haylen’s eyebrows raised as she looked it all over. “Wow. What do we owe you?” she asked, turning some tatos over in her hands. Nora wondered how long it had been since they’d had fresh food.

She feigned nonchalance and shrugged. “Let me share a meal and spend the night here, and we can call it even.” Nora had tried, some time ago, to convince the Brotherhood scribe that she didn’t want any caps in exchange for bringing them supplies. She usually bartered a meal and a night’s rest, and both women pretended that made them even. Perhaps later Nora could broach the topic of what she really wanted from them. “You know, the settlements the Minutemen have established are doing pretty well. If you reached out to them, maybe they could—”

“We don’t need anything from some bedraggled group of wastelanders,” cut in Rhys’ gruff voice as he entered the room. “We’ve got our own help coming.”

Nora had to force herself to relax her jaw and stop grinding her teeth. “Well that bedraggled group of wastelanders grew the food you’re eating tonight, so speak with a little more respect, okay?”

Rhys rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. “Whatever, civ.”

“Both of you, enough,” Haylen said before Nora could respond. “Nora, thank you for the supplies. We would be more than happy to have you stay for the night in exchange, wouldn’t we, Knight?” she said pointedly to Rhys.

“Yeah. Sure.”

About an hour later, after the sun had sank fully past the horizon, Danse made his way inside the police station. It had been quiet all day– quiet the past few days, in fact. Perhaps they had finally made a dent in the ghoul population and warned off the other local riffraff. He could concede that maybe they didn’t need to maintain their constant shift of guards; it was difficult with only the three of them, anyway. Nora and Haylen were seated in the reception room talking when he came in. 

“Rhys is cooking,” Haylen reported. “Nora brought us some provisions from a local settlement.”

“Nothing they couldn’t spare, I hope?” Danse asked, removing his helmet. Nora had a habit of bringing them supplies, casually saying it was surplus from a farm or something she had scavenged from somewhere. It was not common for civilians to assist Brotherhood operations. Especially in the Commonwealth, they had found that people were cagy and clannish, unwilling to part with resources. She was an exception. Nora had proven herself a capable gun in their excursion to ArcJet, and had followed orders well, but Danse was still on guard around her.

“They’re doing well. Oberland Station, across the river, has a pretty big farm nowadays. Got about a dozen people there,” Nora reported. Danse thought he noticed a hint of boasting in her tone, but chose to not comment. It was impressive, after all, to scrape a living from such a harsh landscape. 

“Well. Thank you,” he said haltingly. He wasn’t used to accepting handouts, but it had become clear that their backs were to the wall here. “I’m sure we can arrange a trade for supplies–”

“We’ve been through that already,” Nora cut him off, nodding to Haylen. “Room and board for the night, and we’ll call it even.”

“Food’s up,” came Rhys’ voice from down the hall in the makeshift kitchen, cutting off any further negotiations. Haylen stood and made her way out of the room, and Nora moved to follow as Danse exited his power armor, leaving it near the reception counter where it would be ready on short notice. He stepped out, feeling Nora’s eyes on him. 

“Yes?” he asked, feeling somewhat self-conscious. He preferred to use the armor as much as possible, but mealtimes required fine motor control that was impossible with the suit’s bulky mechanical limbs. He ran a hand through his hair; sometimes the helmet made it lie too flat.

Nora cast her gaze down at the floor momentarily, as if realizing she’d been staring. “Nothing. I just don’t see you without the armor that often. I’m not used to you being at eye level,” she explained with a little laugh. With that, she turned and headed for the kitchen.

Danse drew himself up to his full height and followed. He was of average height at least, and built more broadly than most due to his Brotherhood combat training. He knew that the power armor gave him a more imposing stature, but he liked to think he retained some of it even without the metal framework. Danse caught himself wondering what Nora thought of him without the armor, whether she would respect his authority if he didn’t wear it—but he cut off those thoughts as he made his way across the creaking floor of the hallway and into the kitchen. He would not entertain that line of thinking.

Rhys was a decent cook, which went a long way for the morale of a team. The four of them sat in the kitchen on battered chairs, the yellow light making the room feel unexpectedly cozy as they ate.

“Any trouble with guard duty, Top?” Rhys asked him.

“Nothing to report. It’s been quiet lately. Unusually so. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?” Danse asked, training his gaze on Nora. 

Nora shrugged in answer to his question. “The Minutemen have established some settlements around here. We’ve been doing our part to keep the area secure,” she said matter-of-factly as she took another bite. 

“Well. Thank you,” Danse said, feeling a little awkward. It was the second time that evening he’d thanked her for her help. It irked him to be so reliant on an outsider, a civilian who didn’t know their ways or share their ideology. Sure, it was good of her to lead the Minutemen, to establish settlements for the wanderers out in the wastes, but that was a far cry from the noble cause he and his siblings in arms had pledged themselves to. “I wish we were able to patrol the way we normally would when establishing an outpost for a long-term mission, but with so few of us here…” he trailed off, feeling frustrated that they weren’t able to pull their weight and keep the area secure. Yet another failure. 

“Don’t mention it,” Nora said simply, tactfully letting the matter drop.

They continued to eat, chatting more or less amiably. At the end of the meal, Rhys brushed off their praise, no doubt feeling embarrassed at the compliments to his cooking, and Danse collected their dishes. He took them to the sink as Haylen and Rhys went about their business elsewhere in the station. As he rinsed off a plate, Nora silently held a hand out, a clean dishrag in her other hand to dry it.

“You don’t have to do that,” Danse assured her. “You’ve done enough for us. Don’t pretend like a dirty cot to sleep on is sufficient payment for all that ammo and food,” he added, his tone light.

Nora focused her attention on drying the plate in her hands. “Well, to be perfectly honest…there is something I was hoping you could do for me,” she said, setting the clean plate down on the counter and picking up a freshly-washed fork.

“What is it?” Danse asked. He wasn’t surprised she had some ulterior motive for her assistance. He was only surprised it had taken this long for her to bring it up.

Nora cast her gaze to Danse. She’d turned this over in her mind several times, thinking about how to phrase it, how to get him on her side. “There’s a settlement nearby that’s getting harassed by super mutants,” she began. “It’s a good location, plenty of farmland and water, but with those things so close, no one wants to stay there long-term. I want to clear the super mutants out, give those people a chance. But…I’ve scoped out the spot and there’s too many of them for me to take on alone. So. If you’re willing, I’d appreciate some help.” Nora stood tall, looking Danse in the eye as she spoke, trying not to fidget, thinking back to her time in the army. She knew Danse was a no-nonsense type, someone who expected others to follow rules and show respect for his rank. Nora had no problem following orders if everyone was working toward a common goal. There were definitely worse people to team up with. 

Danse met Nora’s level stare. In all the time they’d known her, Nora had never asked them for assistance. She had given them plenty, but asked for nothing in return. Danse figured the situation must be dire indeed if she was actually turning to him for help. And hell, when was he ever one to turn down the chance to exterminate some super mutants?

“Where is this location?” Danse asked, washing off the last of their dishes and drying his hands. He didn’t want to acquiesce too easily and give her the wrong idea. The Brotherhood were not soldiers for hire.

“Northeast, a couple miles from here,” Nora said, bringing up the map on her Pip-Boy. “See, this is the settlement, County Crossing. And this satellite array over here is where those mutants are holed up.” She scanned through the map on her wrist, showing him as they stood in the middle of the empty kitchen. 

The remaining members of Recon Squad Gladius had made a habit of sticking close to the police station after everything that had happened. It seemed like every venture out into the Commonwealth brought tragedy, and Danse was not prepared to lose any more of his team. This was farther out than he typically ventured. 

“I would have to leave Scribe Haylen and Knight Rhys alone here,” he pointed out. It was a minor concern. Those two could handle themselves, for the most part. But he wanted to test this civilian’s acumen, see how well she’d thought this through. He had to know his teammates, after all. Danse leaned against the table and crossed his arms, waiting to hear her arguments. 

Nora could see he was testing her, gathering intel. She fought the urge to roll her eyes and instead stood up straight, meeting his gaze. “You said yourself that things are quieting down around here,” she pointed out. “Both of them have proven adept at combat scenarios, and the police station is well-fortified.”

“Don’t try to butter me up by complimenting my squad, civilian.”

“It wasn’t a compliment, sir, it was a statement of fact.” Nora had never referred to Danse as “sir” before. She had done it on instinct; the tone he used was so much like that of her old C.O. He had an air of authority that she couldn’t deny. Nora hated to feed his ego any more, but she was used to men like him; this was the surest way to get what she wanted. And she wanted to help her people. “Provided everything goes according to plan, this should only take two days, three maximum,” Nora went on. “Your squad will be able to handle themselves for that long.”

“And what if things don’t go according to plan?” Danse asked, raising an eyebrow. They rarely did, in his experience. 

“County Crossing can be used as a fallback point. The woman running it has some medical training. There are two other settlements in the vicinity should that one be overrun.” Their voices echoed off the mouldering walls of the police station as Nora laid out her plans. The sky outside had darkened as the night turned overcast, and the single working bulb overhead wrapped them in a pool of yellow light. 

Danse nodded slowly and stood up straight from where he’d been leaning against the table. “Good to hear you’ve thought this through,” he acknowledged. “We can settle on the finer logistics in the morning. I would be glad to lend you my aid,” he said, holding out a hand to her.

Nora shook it. His grip was firm and solid but, thankfully, not so tight that it crushed the bones of her hand. Some men seemed to think handshakes were a strength contest. “Thank you, Paladin.”

“Let’s get some rest. Sounds like we’ll have a big day ahead of us.”

They left early the next morning, making their way through the crumbling streets as the last traces of fog burned away in the rising sunlight. They talked little, Nora giving directions when necessary, Danse advising her to watch her step over some particularly loose rubble. The clanking of his power armor made any attempt at stealth impossible amid the decaying buildings, and the two instead kept their eyes and ears open for ferals or other undesirables. But the first hour or so of their trek was uneventful.

Danse had been skeptical of Nora’s story at first. It sounded incredible, even with everything he’d encountered out in the wasteland. But the Pip-Boy and vault suit indicated she had at least been to a vault, and her unfamiliarity with common jargon, places, and recent events made him think that she was either telling the truth about her time in cryo, or she was an excellent liar. He hoped, for all their sakes, that it was the former. He could tell that she was being truthful about her military history, at least. She was certainly skilled with firearms, and the way she moved—both through the landscape here and back in ArcJet labs—reminded him of his fellow soldiers. Whatever her origin, he hoped it would serve them well out in the field. He hoped he wouldn’t have cause to regret lending her his aid.

“Hold on, there’s something—”

“Movement up ahead—”

They both spoke at the same time, eyeing the decaying highway above them. In between the ramshackle wooden walls that had been erected as a shelter, they could see movement. Nora holstered her pistol and slung the laser rifle off her back, holding it at the ready. 

“Let’s get off the road,” she suggested, moving to the cover of some shrubs. “If they’re hostile, we won’t be able to get a good shot from here anyway.”

“Affirmative,” Danse agreed, his voice low as he followed her slowly. The sound of his power armor was somewhat muffled by the vegetation, and they managed to skirt the potential ambush without incident. 

They made a wide arc around the highway, continuing east toward the satellite array. At this rate, they could get there by just after midday, take some time to scope out the perimeter and make a plan of attack before nightfall. They walked in silence for another few minutes before Danse spoke up.

“You still use that rifle?” he asked, eyeing the firearm in her hands. It was the one he’d given her. She’d done just fine taking down synths with her standard 10mm pistol, but he’d figured that a laser weapon would get the job done a little quicker if she was going to continue encountering the Institute’s abominations. That rifle had served him well during his years in the field as a Knight, but he’d gotten better gear since then. It was nice, in a way, to know that it was still seeing action, rather than gathering dust in the police station.

Nora glanced down at the gun in her hands. “Yeah. It’s a bit better than the ones I scavenge off raiders,” she said dryly, giving him a smile as they made their way up an embankment. Nora figured Danse had had some attachment to the weapon at one point; the barrel of the rifle bore the words Righteous Authority carved in meticulous, angular lines. She ran her thumb over the name, feeling the letters. It had become a surprisingly calming gesture, when she found herself wandering the wasteland all alone. “I made some modifications to the barrel and sights,” she went on, throwing a glance at him as they walked. “I wanted something more long-range.”

The uneven ground beneath them didn’t trouble Danse in his power armor. He swiftly stepped up onto a ledge and held out a mechanical hand to Nora. She took it and he hoisted her up. “Well done. Being able to modify and repair your own weaponry makes you more self-sufficient in the field.”

Danse could turn any conversation into a lecture, Nora thought. Did he really still doubt she could handle herself? 

“The Brotherhood trains its soldiers to work as a team, to follow orders unhesitatingly and apply each individual’s skills for the betterment of the whole. But a squad is only as strong as its weakest member, and cultivating a wide-range of knowledge and experience is crucial for each soldier.” Danse’s voice droned on, blending into the background noise of the Commonwealth.

“You sound like a recruitment ad,” Nora quipped. 

“I believe in the cause I’ve pledged my life to,” Danse retorted, bristling at her tone. “Humanity’s last hope is to unite under a common cause and fight back against the horrors unleashed by the recklessness of our ancestors. The Brotherhood is fighting to reclaim this world and make it safe for civilians like you,” he explained. He was used to ingratitude, to people not understanding how important their mission was. It was not something he let slide, however.

“Civilians like me?” Nora repeated derisively. “I’m a General!”

Danse let out a laugh at that. “I’m sorry, but a ragtag group of farmers with pipe pistols hardly compares to the might of the Brotherhood of Steel,” he pointed out.

Nora knew he had a point, but she wasn’t going to let him see that. The Minutemen didn’t have much of an army to speak of yet. “What about the United States Army, then?” she said, squaring her shoulders as she faced him. 

“The army that allowed foreign powers to amass and launch nuclear warheads, you mean? I don’t think—” His retort was cut off by a loud bark, followed by several low growls from behind a stand of trees up ahead. “Hostiles incoming!” he alerted as the pack of feral dogs ran at them.

Nora spun around and took aim, landing a hit on one as it bared its teeth at her from several yards away. She moved a step behind Danse as he took the lead, letting his armor shield the both of them. Her own armor consisted of a mechanic’s jumpsuit and some pieces she’d taken off a dead raider; it did the job, but Danse was almost impenetrable. As Danse fired at the beasts leading the pack, Nora kept her eyes on their flanks, picking off any that tried to get at them from the sides. It was a quick fight, and soon the landscape grew quiet again.

“All clear. Report,” Danse commanded, falling into his old habits as he finished scanning for hostiles. His gaze fell on Nora, looking her over as his adrenaline levels fell. Perhaps, he conceded, he didn’t need to be quite so formal if it was just the two of them. “I mean, are you injured?”

Nora caught her breath and glanced up at him. He hadn’t bothered with the helmet that morning; it hung from the hook on his belt and she could see his brown eyes looking her over. There was a look on his face that seemed like it might be genuine concern. 

“I’m fine. You?”

“Operations normal.” Danse hesitated a moment. He was unaccustomed to interacting with people outside of the Brotherhood. Most of his daily interactions were with subordinates, and he’d fallen into habits that reflected that. He and Nora served similar goals, and it behooved them to show respect to one another. And Danse had always preferred to lead by example. “I… It is refreshing to work with someone outside of the Brotherhood with such good combat instincts,” he ventured.

Nora had been prepared for some comment about how the Brotherhood soldiers were superior to anything in the Commonwealth. Something haughty and boastful that rekindled their earlier argument. This, however, was dangerously close to a compliment. “Thanks,” she said simply. “I thought we made a pretty good team at ArcJet.” Their instincts were similar; Danse was ready to take the lead, to charge in with his armor. Nora followed him up, using a longer range to keep an eye on the big picture around them. They were both meticulous and efficient, good at communicating while in action. There was a reason she’d come to him for help.

Danse nodded. “We did,” he agreed. 

Nora nodded, and that was that. They carried on toward the satellite array without any further reference to their earlier disagreement.

“Two up in the western structure. Three in the eastern. Then two more on the ground here with at least two of their hounds,” Nora reported, lowering the binoculars and handing them to Danse. She was confident in her estimation of their foes, but she knew Danse would want to reconnoiter the site for himself. 

They had arrived in the vicinity a few hours after midday. Nora had pointed out County Crossing down the road as they went by, familiarizing Danse with their fallback point. Now, the pair crouched in a stand of trees on a small hill a short distance from the fenced around the giant satellites. 

Nora’s scouting of the area had been thorough. The place was well fortified, with only one real point of entry at the main gate. Danse’s observations confirmed what she had reported, and he handed her the binoculars back before putting on the helmet of his power armor. 

“Alright. We should keep our distance as much as possible. You said you improved the range on that laser rifle?” he asked.

“Not enough to hit that thing,” she said ruefully, looking up at one of the blurry shapes moving at the top of a makeshift structure. “We’re going to have to get closer to draw them out.”

“Understood. I’ll take point, you back me up.”

Nora nodded. His tone was matter-of-fact rather than the arrogance he sometimes spoke with. She had no qualms following his lead now; it made sense that the one with power armor, the one who would be spotted quicker and who could serve as a shield, would go first. “Got it. You ready?” she asked, rising from her kneeling position and gripping Righteous Authority more firmly.

“Affirmative. Let’s move out.”

“Ad victoriam.”

Danse stared at her for a second as she spoke the Brotherhood’s rallying cry. Perhaps his words were finally getting through to her, he thought. Perhaps this was her way of extending an olive branch. Or perhaps she was mocking him. Hard to tell, and this wasn’t the moment to enquire. Any expression his face may have betrayed was safely concealed behind the helmet of his armor. “Ad victoriam,” he repeated, and led the way down the hill towards the satellites.

They planned to draw at least a few of the super mutants out of their cover. If the pair of them didn’t have sufficiently long-range weapons, it was a safe bet the mutants didn’t, either. Besides, in Danse’s experience, most mutants preferred the carnage of close combat. He ran the last few yards up to the gate, then opened fire. 

The overcast afternoon air broke into a torrent of gunfire, laser blasts, and guttural yelling. Bullets rained down on them as Danse and Nora rushed in and she ducked behind the cover of a low wooden wall. Two slobbering, rotund canines barreled toward them from deeper in the compound and Nora trained her sights on them. She managed to fell one of them, but the other closed in, baring its fangs. She brandished the stock of her rifle, bashing it on the skull and creating some space before she fired again.

Danse, meanwhile, was holding his own against the two super mutants at ground level. He flanked around the side of a pile of debris, getting line of sight on one and landing a barrage of hits. The war cries of the abominations rose above the din of battle, and he answered them with his own. 

Nora fired some haphazard shots at the wall of a structure high above, knowing the mutant inside would not be able to resist such provocation. She had come to understand that super mutants were bloodthirsty and impulsive, always ready to shoot first and think strategically later. She would rather draw them closer than risk ascending up the rickety scaffolding to get to them. Soon, she could see two more targets approaching, and she waited until they were well in range before opening fire in concert with Danse.

The firefight continued, and Nora and Danse were making headway. Their plan to draw down the mutants worked, and the pair concentrated their fire on one target at a time. One by one the creatures fell until there were only two left. With a desperate cry, one of the super mutants ran toward them.

“One approaching from the left!” Nora called out, pivoting and sending a burst of shots at the oncoming mutant. It took the hit to the chest and continued its assault, brandishing a club run through with long metal nails. She stood from where she’d been crouching and backed up, trying to find new cover, something to put between herself and the mutant. Most of her shots went wide as she moved. The creature’s long strides gave it extra speed, and before she knew it, the thing was looming over her, its club raised to attack. Nora struck it in the chest with the stock of her rifle, but it was like hitting a brick wall. The mutant laughed and swung down its spiked club, connecting with her left arm. She felt pain burst through her body as the flesh tore and the force of the hit sent her sprawling to the ground, a horrible crunch coming from her arm. Nora tried to keep her wits about her and not let the pain daze her. From somewhere behind her, she heard Danse yell something, saw a blaze of red energy, but she was too focused on the creature leering down at her. Nora pulled her pistol off its holster at her hip; instinct told her she wouldn’t be able to lift the rifle now. She got two shots off before it brought the club down on her again.

Danse had let the other mutant take his attention, and by the time he’d seen the one baring down on Nora, it was too late to stop it. He saw the creature bash her with the spiked club, sending her to the ground behind a pile of debris. He left cover and opened fire on it, yelling taunts and hoping to draw its attention. He caught it in the chest as it landed another swing on her. One more shot to the head and the target was neutralized, but the damage had been done. Nora didn’t get up, and there was still one more assailant. 

“Civilian, report!” Danse commanded as he turned his attention to the last remaining super mutant. He heard no response. “Nora!” No response. Danse steeled his resolve, knowing he had to focus on the task at hand. The super mutant fired from behind a wooden wall, and Danse sprinted around to where he’d have a better visual. Soon, the sound of gunfire died away, and the battle was over. He did one last sweep for hostiles, making sure to check up above, before stowing his rifle and running back to where he’d seen Nora fall.

“Nora!” he called out again as he went to a knee beside her. Were this an ordinary mission, he would be barking orders at his squad, getting the scribe assigned as their field medic to ascertain her condition. But there was no one else here to help. All Brotherhood initiates received basic medical training, enough to triage in the field. Danse had done additional training in that area, not wanting to rely solely on others to patch him up after a skirmish. In the time since Recon Squad Gladius had arrived in the Commonwealth, he’d had ample occasion to put those skills to use. And his training told him that Nora needed urgent attention.

She was unconscious. Her left arm hung at an odd angle, and the bracer she wore was tattered beyond repair. Underneath, he could see the flesh of her forearm was a bloody pulp. The second hit had connected with her torso, and there was a large gash in the side of her jumpsuit. Danse couldn’t tell from looking whether she had sustained any internal damage or broken ribs. At least she was breathing.

“Fuck,” he spat, reaching into his pack for something to stop the bleeding. “Civilian, are you with me?” he asked. He put an armored hand on Nora’s good arm, shaking her lightly. “Nora?” She groaned weakly. A good sign. “Don’t move. You’ve been injured.”

“No shit,” Nora mumbled, opening her eyes slowly. 

“I’m going to administer first aid, but we need to evac to a more secure location. Hold this against your side,” Danse ordered, putting a clean cloth in her good hand. Nora did as she was told, applying pressure to her wound as Danse located a stimpak. 

“Are they all down?” Nora asked through gritted teeth. She tried to fight against the pain that wracked her body, tried to breathe evenly. Her vision was edged with black, her field of view narrowing as the world wavered.

“I wouldn’t be doing this if they weren’t,” Danse pointed out tersely. “Can you walk?”

Time felt like it was slowing down. Nora didn’t realize she’d hesitated until Danse repeated the question. 

“Civilian, respond. Can you walk?” Danse prompted her, shaking her lightly. He had a feeling he knew the answer from the unfocused expression on her face. Through the reinforced glass of his helmet, Danse watched as she turned her blue eyes up at him, staring helplessly.

“I’m gonna pass out.”

Her head lolled to the side as she made good on her words. “Dammit,” Danse breathed. The stimpak was doing its work, knitting her skin back together, but she needed a safe place to recover, and something more substantial for the broken arm. Danse stowed their gear and got to his feet, gingerly lifting Nora into his arms. That settlement she’d established wasn’t far, and Nora had said there was a medic there. It was their best chance.

Nora was taller than average height for a woman, and had the muscle mass of someone who spent their days fighting off abominations. Despite her build, though, Danse carried her with ease in his armor. He had one arm around her shoulders and one under her knees, leaving no option of a weapon. Danse felt vulnerable as he hurried down the cracked asphalt of the road toward their established fallback point; the severity of the situation left him no recourse. He hoped he would have no cause to regret risking his own safety to save her.

He was still a ways off when he heard a chorus of startled voices at the settlement. 

“What is that?”

“Something’s coming, get ready!”

Danse raised his voice and addressed them. “Don’t shoot, your General is injured. I’m an ally,” he called. An ally of hers, at least. He approached the collection of buildings clustered around a weed-ridden garden. Not much of a settlement yet, then. Five people stood by warily, three of them with guns, only one holding it like she knew how to use it. Their eyes went wide upon seeing Nora in his arms.

“Shit, he weren’t lyin’,” one man breathed.

“Who here has medical training?” Danse asked, taking command of the gawking crowd.

“Me,” said an older woman, stirring to action as the shock wore off. “Everybody move. Bring her in here,” she said, leading the way to a shack. “Danny, go get the med kit. Rachel, bring some soap and clean water,” she called out as they went. They entered the shack, which was furnished with two beds pushed together in one corner, a bureau, and a dining table with a few mostly-intact chairs clustered around it. The woman picked up some books off the table and tossed them aside, gesturing for Danse to lay Nora down. 

He did so as gently as he could. Nora had stirred in and out of consciousness during their trek from the satellite array, and the movement made her blink wearily again.

“Huh…?”

“Hey there, General,” said the medic gently as the other residents brought in supplies. “It’s Miss Paula. We’re gonna get you patched up, don’t worry. Just lie back, sugar, okay?” she said, speaking soothingly as she removed the sleeve of Nora’s jumpsuit with a rather dull-looking pair of scissors. “What happened?” she asked, looking up at Danse where he stood on Nora’s other side.

“Our objective was to eliminate the super mutants out at the satellite array. One struck her with a bat covered in nails,” Danse reported. He set to work quickly, unzipping her jumpsuit and pulling it down to better survey the damage to her side. The flesh there was torn as well, and she was still losing blood. He found a rag to press against the wound. “She’s sustained a broken arm. I suspect there may be internal injuries, though I have not ascertained the extent of them.”

The medic—Paula—narrowed her eyes and looked up at him. “Are you a robot? Or do you just look and sound like one?” she asked, a hint of wariness in her voice behind the sarcasm.

“I’m Paladin Danse of the Brotherhood of Steel,” he snapped. “Let’s stay focused.” He was still applying pressure to the gash in Nora’s side, so he gestured with a nod to her bag. “There are stimpaks in there. I’ve administered one in her arm already. We’ll need a splint, to make sure the bone aligns properly while it heals,” he ordered. There were protocols to this, steps to follow when someone sustained an injury. Danse closed his mind to everything else and focused on the methodology. It was easier to think of her as a list of symptoms, rather than an ally lying bleeding on a table. But still a sense of urgency burned through him. He could not lose anyone else.

Paula took his brusque demeanor in stride. She got the supplies out of the bag and set them within reach. Then she tipped one of the wooden dining chairs onto its face and stomped her foot against the slats of the back. She picked up one of the broken slats and handed it to Danse. “Splint.”

He nodded and pulled the rag in his other hand away from Nora’s wound. The flow of blood had stopped, from what he could tell. “Get some bandages to bind her arm,” he said, but Paula was a step ahead of him, already holding a roll of clean cloth. Danse held the wooden stick against Nora’s arm, moving her as gently as he could so Paula could tie the splint. Nora gave a little gasp of pain as he did so, and his eyes snapped up to hers. She still looked dazed, semi-conscious.

“Hold still, honey, this won’t hurt for long,” Paula said to her, deftly winding lengths of cloth around the injury and tying it tight. “You’re gonna be right as rain in just a minute.”

Somewhere in a deep part of his mind, Danse thought about reprimanding this woman for speaking to the General of the Minutemen as if she were a child. But perhaps a bit of maternal care was warranted, given the circumstances.

“What…?” Nora mumbled groggily. 

“Shhh,” Paula soothed her, tying the last knot and turning her attention to the gash in Nora’s side. The stimpak was already working, knitting her skin back together and (hopefully) healing any internal injuries. Paula reached into her own medical kit and pulled out a syringe.

“What is that?” Danse demanded, wary of any unfamiliar drugs. It certainly didn’t look like a stimpak.

“Painkiller. It’ll make her sleep for a bit. Can’t have her moving around too much and pulling at all the new skin,” Paula explained. Something in Danse’s physicality must have expressed his skepticism, because she handed the syringe to him. 

He looked at it, unsure of what he had hoped to see. But Nora trusted this woman. Danse grit his teeth and handed it back to Paula, who administered the shot into Nora’s good arm. Under Danse’s hovering gaze, she cleaned the wound in Nora’s side and applied an adhesive bandage.

“Well then,” Paula said, clearing up the empty syringes and bloody rags into an enamel bucket, “she should be out for a couple hours. Might as well leave her on the table, don’t want to risk jostling anything around.” She scrubbed her hands with soap and a bit of the clean water then turned to Danse. “Your turn. Step outta that tin can and let me take a look at you.”

“There’s no need, I assure you,” Danse said, straightening up and wrenching his gaze away from Nora to face the other woman. “My armor requires some repair, but I sustained no injuries.” If he had, he probably would have noticed by now. 

“Alright then,” Paula said with a shrug. “Supper will be up in maybe two hours or so. I’ll come get you.”

“I had not intended to…” Danse trailed off.

Paula chuckled at that. “Where you gonna go? She’s stayin’ here, and I’m guessing you’re stayin’ with her.”

Danse exhaled. The woman was right. He wouldn’t just leave Nora lying unconscious in a clapboard shack in the middle of nowhere. “Thank you. Both for the hospitality and for your medical assistance,” he said sincerely. 

“You’re mighty welcome, Mr. Paladin Danse. After everything the General’s done for us, I guess she deserves all that and then some,” Paula said. She hoisted up her med kit and supplies. “Feel free to rest in here or come on out for a spell. I’ll come find you for supper.” With that, she left the shack.

The quiet was heavy in his ears. Danse sighed and removed his helmet, latching it onto the hook on his belt. He ran a hand through his hair, matted down from spending all day in the suit. They had eliminated the super mutants and Nora would make a recovery. On paper, their mission had been a success. But Danse knew there was always room for improvement. He would much prefer that Nora hadn’t gotten injured, for one. She looked so different, lying on the table, her bandaged arm over her chest and her other limbs hanging down. She looked peaceful and unguarded. Her dark hair was escaping the ponytail she normally wore it in and pooling around her head, heightening the pallor of her skin after losing so much blood. Danse pulled out one of the sturdier-looking chairs and sank onto it, his back bent, elbows on his knees. The adrenaline was finally fading from his system and he felt worn out. He replayed the moment she’d gone down, replayed the whole fight in his head, wondering what he could have done differently. Communicated better, ensured they were both on the same target. Put himself more firmly between her and the enemy. Something. She easily could have lost her life today, and he would be to blame for it. He couldn’t stand losing anyone else. Nora wasn’t technically his soldier, wasn’t even part of the Brotherhood. She certainly wasn’t his friend; he had sworn long ago that he was done making friends, done letting people get close to him. It always ended the same way, and one heart couldn’t hold that much grief. But despite it all, despite the way they bickered, the way she rolled her eyes at him when she thought he wasn’t looking…Danse found he liked fighting alongside Nora. He liked talking to her, liked getting to know her. He sighed and stared at the floor. Things had not gone according to plan.

Chapter Text

The sunlight through the empty window frames had turned to the warm golden of early evening by the time he heard Nora stir. Danse wasn’t certain how long he’d been slumped in the chair, his rifle over his knees, staring into space. Probably close to two hours, at least.

“Nora?” he called to her gently. The sounds of the others working and talking outside were a far-off murmur, and Danse pitched his own voice low in the stillness.

She groaned. “What happened?” she asked, blinking and beginning to shift on the table.

Danse stood, moving to her side. “Don’t try to move yet,” he advised. “You were injured. Your arm was broken.” He looked down at her, watching her awareness come back fully. There was a lucidity in her eyes that he hadn’t seen since she’d gone down. 

Nora felt her senses catch up with her as she woke. She was lying on a table inside somewhere. Her left arm was tied against a stick. Her legs dangled down off the table and her back hurt from the way she’d been lying. Everything hurt, in fact. She groaned. “Where…what…?”

“County Crossing,” Danse explained. “A mutant battered you with a club. I performed triage as much as I could, but decided you needed more help. I carried you here. The medic, Paula, helped tend to your wounds. You’ve been asleep several hours,” Danse explained. “We administered stimpaks, so your body should be fully regenerated by tomorrow evening, by my estimate.”

Nora let his words wash over her as she slowly sat up, careful of her injured arm. She shook her head in disbelief at that last part. “Medicine has come a hell of a long way in two hundred years,” she muttered.

“Lucky for you, yes it has. How are you feeling?”

She looked up at him, bleary-eyed and exhausted, her jumpsuit top missing a sleeve and stained with blood. “If you can believe it, Danse, I’ve been better,” she said, deadpan.

Danse smiled at that. “Still able to muster up some sarcasm, though, so I’ll take that as a good sign,” he pointed out. He felt lighter talking to her. The knot of worry that had been forming in his stomach seemed to unravel just a touch. 

“Yeah, that’ll be the last thing to go,” she muttered. “Can you help me up?” He moved quickly to her good side, putting one mechanical arm around her waist as she slowly moved off the table. Nora leaned on him, trying to take deep breaths without sending a flare of pain through her abdomen. “My legs feel weird after dangling like that,” she explained, bending her knees slightly to regain feeling.

“Take it slow,” Danse advised, looking down at her. In his armor, he was more than a head taller than she was. He adjusted his grip, moving his arm around her back so she could lean into his side. Nora looked up at him, her eyes startlingly blue in the golden evening light.

Nora saw Danse without his helmet fairly often, but never this close. His dark hair was surprisingly long for someone of military bearing. He had stubble along his jaw already, despite the fact that he’d shaved that morning. There was a long scar on his chin that traced a thin white curve up to his mouth. There were wrinkles on his forehead, lines of worry at the corners of his deep brown eyes. She held his gaze as she spoke, her voice quiet, pitched to carry just the few inches between them. “Thank you for saving my life, Danse.”

Danse blinked, disarmed by the earnestness of her words the depth of feeling behind them. “Of course. All part of the job,” he said simply.

Nora chuckled and moved away, the spell of the moment broken as she stood on her own two feet and he removed his arm from around her. “Not really,” she pointed out. “Our agreement was to eradicate the super mutants. You could have finished them off and left me there.”

“Do I strike you as the type who would do that?” he asked, somewhat wary of the answer.

“No,” Nora admitted. “But still. Thank you.”

“Knock knock!” came Paula’s voice as the older woman simultaneously tapped on the door and pushed it open. She looked Nora over, giving Danse no notice whatsoever. “Miss Nora, glad to see you’re up! How you feeling?”

Nora smiled and gave Paula a one-armed hug on her good side. “Feeling alright, and I hear that’s thanks to you,” she said warmly. Paula was charming and welcoming, a mother to anyone who wanted to try their hand at the settler lifestyle, but Nora knew she could also be stern and authoritative when the moment called for it. She was a true matriarch. She reminded Nora of her own grandma. Paula filled a void Nora hadn’t realized was in her heart.

“Me and this metal man of yours,” Paula said, finally casting a glance at Danse. She raised an eyebrow and looked him up and down. “Well I’ll be. You got a real face under there after all.”

“Of course,” Danse said, furrowing his brow in confusion. He caught Nora smiling at that.

“Well, we got supper on in the big house. Come on, I’ll get you something fresh to wear and we’ll head over,” Paula said, crossing to the bureau.

Danse tactfully stepped outside. Now that the situation wasn’t so dire, he took a proper look around the settlement. There were three other buildings in addition to the one they’d been in. One was undoubtedly “the big house;” it stood on a slight rise overlooking the others and had a second story. On the roof, a turret whirred back and forth in a slow arc. In the center of the plot was a garden, tatos and corn growing in rows. He saw a woman, the one he’d picked out initially as knowing her way around a firearm, patrolling the perimeter. All in all, a decent start at a community. 

He exited the power armor and left it near the door to the shack where he could resume it quickly, should the need arise. He flexed his hands and shook out his arms; he’d been in the suit since morning. It felt good to have some time out, even if it meant he was more vulnerable. 

After a moment, Paula and Nora emerged, the latter now dressed in a pair of gray trousers and a blue workman’s shirt. Paula led the way to the main building where everyone was gathered for the meal.

It was simple fare but hearty, and all of it fresh. Danse thanked their hosts sincerely and introductions were made. At everyone’s behest, Nora told the story of their assault on the super mutant outpost, with Danse filling in some detail towards the end. They all seemed impressed, shocked that anyone would willingly go up against those creatures. 

They remained gathered at the table until the evening light turned to dusk, then disappeared completely. Nora chatted with the residents, asking them about their work, the travellers that came through, their personal lives. It was a side of her that Danse hadn’t yet seen. She fit right in with these people, despite the fact that she hadn’t spent much time with them. She was charismatic and personable, and seemed genuinely interested in their daily toils. Danse himself was no stranger to leadership, but this kind was new to him. Nora may have been their general, but she was their friend as well. 

Danse tried to follow her lead, but he didn’t have the same people skills that she did. Frankly, he wasn’t interested in these strangers’ crops, or the mole rats that burrowed into their land. He listened politely as the conversation went on, and contributed what he could when someone addressed him, but mostly he just listened.

When the question of their travel plans arose, Nora headed off the conversation. “We’ll be leaving in the morning,” she said, catching Danse’s eye as she did so. Not that they’d discussed it, but she was sure he’d rather move on than continue relying on the hospitality of strangers. “I can take a look at that turret before we go and teach you how to fix it. Sounds like it’s just a sticky actuator,” Nora added, addressing a man named Danny. 

There was some discussion over sleeping arrangements as everyone rose from the table. The woman who had been on patrol came in, handing the rifle to someone else who ducked out into the night. 

“I would be glad to lend assistance to your patrol,” Danse offered. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in what felt like months, and he knew he’d be lying awake for at least two hours yet.

“Another pair of eyes and ears is always welcome,” Paula said. “Just make sure yours are rested enough to be worth a damn when it counts,” she added pointedly.

Everyone said their goodnights and Danse followed Nora back to the shack they were to stay in. 

“I’ll re-equip and join the patrol,” Danse informed her, gesturing to his power armor as she opened the door.

“You sure you’re not tired?” Nora asked from the threshold. 

“Negative. Besides, I…expect to remain awake for a few hours, at least,” he reported. She didn’t need to know about his insomnia, about the dreams that plagued him. He twisted the valve on the back of his armor and stood back as it opened, busying himself with the task. 

“If you’re sure,” Nora said warily. She felt exhausted, even after spending most of the afternoon unconscious. “We can leave in the morning. I know you probably want to get back to the police station.”

“If you would prefer to stay, I can make my own way back,” Danse informed her as he climbed into his power armor. “I don’t want to drag you away on my account.”

Nora looked up at him, surprised. It had never occurred to her that they would part ways here. But they could. Their mission was done, and he was perfectly capable of making the trek back to Cambridge alone. “Is that what you want?” she asked slowly, inwardly wondering why she dreaded the answer.

He hesitated a moment as he looked down at her. He should remain impartial. Nora wasn’t part of the Brotherhood’s mission. He had worked so hard to keep all his relationships professional, to keep everyone at an arm’s length. He was good at doing that. Usually. “I want whatever is the most practical,” Danse said. His voice sounded stilted and tight, even to his own ears.

Nora pressed her lips together and nodded once. “Safety in numbers,” she pointed out. If he really wanted to be rid of her, he could say so. She wasn’t going to give him an out.

Danse felt his heart jolt at her words and relief flooded him. He pushed away the feeling without investigating its source. “Affirmative. We’ll discuss logistics come morning,” he said, slipping the helmet onto his head and latching it into place. 

“Yes, sir,” Nora said, giving him a lazy salute and a smile. With that, she headed inside and prepared for bed.

Nora had become a light sleeper, and the beeping of Danse’s power armor as he exited it and left it near the door woke her. She nestled back into the bed—luxuriously equipped with bedsheets and a pillow—and kept her eyes half-open, trained on the door. Danse entered a moment later. The night was cloudy, but there was enough moonlight streaming in through the window for her to see that he looked exhausted. 

“Hey,” she murmured, letting him know she was awake as he softly pushed the door closed behind himself. 

Danse fixed his gaze on her. He’d expected her to be asleep already. But she lay on her right side, back to the wall, keeping pressure off her injuries. A thin wool blanket was draped over her. “Hey.”

The two bedframes had been pushed together when they arrived, but while Danse was out, Nora had edged them apart. One now sat just far enough away for someone to move between the two.

“Find anything interesting on patrol?” Nora asked. He could still detect a hint of sarcasm in her tone despite the lowness of her voice in the stillness.

“If we had, I would have alerted you immediately,” Danse pointed out. He figured she knew that. Patrol had been uneventful, thankfully. Danse had paced the perimeter of the settlement, hoping that the movement would tire him enough to be able to sleep for at least a few hours. Though he kept his eyes and ears alert for danger, his mind had been far away. 

Something had changed between himself and Nora today. In examining his own behavior, he found he was now less guarded with her, less circumspect. They had grown closer. That was not something he was used to with people outside of the Brotherhood. Even with his siblings in arms, he made an effort to keep everyone at a distance. He’d learned that lesson the hard way. But Nora had somehow slipped past those defenses, despite his best intentions. It gave him a lot to think about.

Nora gave a wordless “mhm” in acquiescence. Danse unlaced his boots and left them at the foot of the bed before lying down in his uniform jumpsuit. He didn’t think it wise to take it off, both for modesty’s sake and in case of incident during the night in unfamiliar territory. He stared up at the plywood ceiling, listening to Nora’s even breathing and the hum of insects in the still night. His mind refused to quiet.

“I owe you an apology,” Danse breathed after a few minutes, as quietly as he could. He almost didn’t want her to answer, and he kept his gaze fixed on the ceiling.

Nora stirred a little at that. His tone was different now, devoid of the bluster and military jargon he often used. More honest. She didn’t move, afraid that he wouldn’t continue if she sat up, made this a real conversation. “For what?” she prompted him. He’d saved her life today, certainly that absolved him of anything else.

“For misjudging you. I am not blind to the fact that I can come across as…condescending,” Danse began. “I assume the worst of civilians because that attitude generally proves to be correct. I still believe that the Brotherhood of Steel is humanity’s best and only chance at salvation, but…” he hesitated, resolutely keeping his voice even and his body still. He wished he’d moved the bedframes further apart; he was acutely aware that she was less than a foot away, staring at him. “Your work with the Minutemen, with these settlements, is impressive. As are your skills in the field. I think perhaps I should have spent less time lecturing you on how the Brotherhood expects people to behave, and more time seeing how you chose to behave. Because you embody our tenets better than some Paladins I know. Your fortitude, tenacity, and sense of justice are admirable,” he went on. “If you ever do wish to join the Brotherhood, I will sponsor you wholeheartedly. I…I believe we make a good team, and I would be amenable to continuing our partnership in the future,” he concluded. It sounded stilted, too rote. The words were accurate, of course, but Danse sighed and threw rank and formality to the wind. “All of that is to say,” he went on, “I’m sorry for acting like an ass.”

Nora couldn’t help chuckling at that. “Apology accepted,” she said, just so he knew where they stood. “I know I can be a…strong personality, too.”

Danse turned his head toward her a little, hazarding a glance in her direction now that he’d said all he needed to say. “Understatement,” he observed, a hint of teasing  in his tone.

That earned him a smile from Nora, and she reached across and swatted him lightly on the shoulder. “Goodnight, Paladin,” she said teasingly.

He smiled despite himself. “Goodnight, soldier.”

“Soldier? I thought I was ‘civilian’ to you,” Nora observed. 

“Not after today. Besides, it seems to spark an argument whenever I call you that,” Danse pointed out.

“I guess we’ll have to find something else to argue about, then,” Nora murmured, settling back down and closing her eyes.

“Can’t wait.”

It was still dark when Nora was awakened again. She slowly came to consciousness, trying to register what it was that woke her. Next to her, Danse’s breathing was uneven and shallow. He groaned in his sleep, and his brow was furrowed in consternation. A nightmare, Nora figured. She reached out across the space between them, resting her hand on his and entwining their fingers. 

“Hey, it’s alright,” she whispered soothingly. “I’m here. It’s okay.”

After a while, he seemed to calm, whether on his own or from her touch, Nora wasn’t sure. She fell back asleep still holding his hand.

The sky beyond the glassless window was just beginning to lighten when Danse woke. Nora had at some point reached over and put her hand on his mattress, and his fingers were curled around hers. He stared at their hands for a moment, confused, before slowly releasing her, hoping to not wake her up. He took the opportunity to stare at her unabashedly in the dim light. This woman from the past had upended so much, both for him personally and throughout the Commonwealth, if the rumors were to be believed. Danse wondered where they would stand now, after their conversation last night. The uncertainty worried him.

He lay in bed a while longer, making a plan for the day, thinking about their route back to Cambridge. They wouldn’t travel before sunup, at least, so there was no rush. Besides, he knew Nora needed rest to continue healing. After a while he heard her breathing change, and a few minutes later she stirred.

“Morning,” Nora mumbled. She stretched a little, then suddenly remembered her arm was still tied to a splint and eased off.

“Good morning,” Danse said. “How are you feeling?” he asked as he sat up and swung his legs to the floor, his back to her.

“Better than yesterday,” Nora said, gingerly flexing the fingers of her left hand as she sat up.

“You nearly died, so that’s not saying much,” Danse replied, deadpan.

He heard Nora laugh at that, heard her stand up in the narrow space between their beds. “I feel fine. You?” 

He felt her put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing tightly and beginning to massage it. It was not a gesture he was accustomed to. But he had to admit, it felt very nice. He leaned his head to the other side just slightly, giving her more space, a small part of him hoping she would continue. “Fine,” he reported. 

Nora allowed herself to smile down at him while he couldn’t see her. She pressed small circles in the base of his neck with her thumb, feeling his muscles loosen beneath her touch. It was rare to see him so unguarded, and Nora found she liked it. Danse let out a long exhale, then a second later seemed to think better of it and rose to his feet. 

“Thank you. That is, ah— We have a long journey ahead of us. If you’re still willing to travel together,” Danse said, averting his gaze lest she see how red his cheeks were. He busied himself with putting his boots on. 

“Sure thing,” Nora said, hiding her smile. She could imagine how he must feel; Danse was obviously not the type to let people get close to him, to open himself up. Last night had been an anomaly, and one that Nora prized. Behind the gruff exterior, the drill-sergeant bearing, Danse could be earnest and sincere. She had been wrong about him, she realized. But she didn’t want to push him too far. She got the sense that he wasn’t the type to make friends fast. “I’ll speak with Danny and Paula when they’re up. We should be able to get going by mid-morning, at the latest.”

“Understood,” said Danse, retreating behind the stiffness of his Brotherhood training.

Their trek back to the police station was largely uneventful. They both kept their heads up, alert for any dangers, weapons at the ready. They chatted intermittently. Nora could sense that some barrier had been let down between them; Danse showed more of his dry humor, was less formal in the way he spoke. He even, at one point, caught himself while giving her a lesson on Brotherhood ideology and let the matter rest. She, consequently, made an effort to be less belligerent when he said something she disagreed with. Things had undoubtedly changed between them. All it took was her nearly dying, apparently.

Nora had taken the splint off before they’d left County Crossing. Her arm and her side felt much better; medical science had made some significant advances while she’d been frozen in the vault. The pair ran into some hostile wildlife as they made their way back to the city, but nothing they couldn’t quickly dispatch. At one point they decided to detour around an area that showed signs of Gunner occupation; it cost them over an hour of travel, but they both considered it preferable to tangling with an Assaultron. They were making their careful way through the city streets, the shadows lengthening in the early evening light, when Danse cleared his throat, the sound tinny through the helmet speakers.

“I would ask that you keep some of the details of our excursion to yourself,” Danse said cautiously. He thought back to last night, to waking up with her hand in his. “Some of the things I told you were of a…personal nature.”

“Of course,” acknowledged Nora. She had no intention of telling Rhys and Haylen anything more than necessary. Danse had shown her a side of himself that not many people got to see; that was precisely what made it so special to her. 

They said no more about it and walked on. A short while later, they approached the fortifications in front of the police station. “Paladin Danse!” came Haylen’s voice from atop the scaffold of the guardpost. “Glad to see you both back. I take it the mission was a success?”

“Affirmative, Scribe,” Danse reported as he and Nora made their way through the main gate. “How are operations here?”

“Nothing to report, sir. Watch has been quiet. No hostiles sighted since you two left yesterday morning.”

“Good to hear. Join us inside for debrief.” Haylen descended the metal stairs and the three made their way into the police station. Rhys was inside, seated at a desk looking over a map and making notes. He stood at attention as Danse entered. 

“Knight.”

“Paladin. How was the mission?”

“We neutralized the abominations. There were some injuries sustained, but we employed the assistance of a civilian medic at a nearby settlement.” Danse undid the latch of his helmet and pulled it off. 

“Glad to hear you were successful. I hope this makes us even for those supplies,” Rhys said, turning to Nora with a scowl.

“Well, actually,” Nora spoke up, “your Paladin glossed over the part where he saved my life. So technically, I now owe him.” She looked at Rhys and smiled. “Looks like you’re stuck with me a while longer.”

Rhys rolled his eyes and went back to his work. Danse exited the power armor and spoke with Haylen about events during his absence. Nora hauled the bag she’d been carrying into one of their storerooms and unloaded the produce Paula had given her when they parted that morning. After a minute, she heard Danse’s footfalls approach. He stood in the doorway and she straightened up, looking at him expectantly.

“Will you stay?” 

She knew he meant for the night. Dusk was rapidly approaching and the darkness would bring more monsters out of hiding. But Nora let herself imagine, just for a moment, what it would be like to stay here long-term. To give up her wandering, give up trying to scrape by, trying to sustain herself out in the wasteland all alone. She could join them, join the Brotherhood. She’d have a place here. A clearer purpose. But that wasn’t what Danse was asking, not at the moment, so she only hesitated for a second before replying, “If you’ll have me.”

Danse chuckled at that, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorway. “Since when are you so deferential?”

Nora returned his smile. She liked seeing him so casual. “True. Let me rephrase: yes.”

“Good.” He straightened up and took half a step backward, meaning to go about his business, but he hesitated and turned back to her. “You know…you don’t owe me anything. I didn’t patch you up because I wanted a favor out of it.” Words perched on his tongue about how the Brotherhood always strove to do what was right and to act with justice and righteousness. But he bit them back, not wanting to lecture her. Besides, he hadn’t been thinking about Brotherhood tenets when he carried her unconscious body to safety. He’d just been thinking about her. And how could he even begin to articulate that?

Danse’s words touched her. In a world where almost everything came with strings attached, it was nice to know he had a stronger moral compass. “I know,” Nora admitted. She took a step forward and he followed her lead, exiting the supply closet. “I mainly just said that to get under Rhys’ skin,” she confessed.

He just smiled and shook his head.

Later that night, after bathing and sharing a meal, after she helped Haylen with some technological documentation, Nora went up to the roof terrace. The night was mild and cloudless, leaving a wide expanse of stars hanging above the ruins of the city. She sank down in one of the metal folding chairs, her back to the brick wall, and gazed up, lost in thought until the sound of the door opening behind her brought her back to reality.

“Oh. I didn’t realize you were up here,” Danse said apologetically, backlit by yellow fluorescent light.

“Didn’t feel like trying to sleep,” Nora explained. “You’re welcome to join me if you like,” she offered, gesturing to a chair next to hers.

Danse hesitated for a moment then stepped out onto the flat roof, letting the door swing closed behind himself. He understood not wanting to lie in bed waiting for sleep that would not come. “Sure you’re not tired of my company yet?” he asked, only partially joking.

“No. I’ll admit, I was wrong about you. You’re only half as irritating as I first thought you were,” Nora said with a grin.

Danse laughed as he sat down in the chair next to her. “I’m sure that’s a marked improvement.” She smiled, leaning into him and nudging his shoulder with her own. The gesture was casual, amicable. Not the type of thing many people did with him. Each of them turned their attention out to the landscape stretched before them. The clear night provided good visibility, and Danse could see far-off lights across the water, hear faint sounds of life. 

They were quiet for a long while, each of them alone in their thoughts, a companionable silence stretching out between them. Danse looked over at her and caught her staring into the distance, an expression of unconcealed melancholy on her face.

“It must be difficult,” Danse began softly, “seeing how everything has changed.”

His voice pulled him out of her thoughts and Nora nodded slowly. “It is. But the really hard part is seeing how much things are the same,” she confessed, her voice little more than a whisper. Waking up two hundred years after she should have died…it wasn’t something she talked about often. What would be the point? Everyone in the Commonwealth had faced their share of tragedy. Hers was just more technologically advanced than most. 

Danse felt his heart twist, seeing her like this. He was out of his depth here; he had spent so long learning to hide his own emotions that he didn’t know how to respond now. Being vulnerable was antithetical to everything he lived for. A part of him warned that this was a mistake. Whatever he felt towards this woman, he should wall it off and remain objective. She was an ally in the Brotherhood’s mission, not his friend. Not anything more. Because if he allowed her in, he would eventually have to mourn her loss. 

“I’m sorry for what you have had to endure,” Danse said earnestly. He reached out and placed a hand on her forearm, his touch feather-light on the skin that had been torn ragged only yesterday. “But I am glad that it led to us meeting.”

Nora felt a lump rise in her throat at his words. She nodded, blinking rapidly, and pulled her arm out of his grasp so that she could take his hand. “Me too,” she whispered. She turned to look at him, holding his gaze, and the moment seemed to stretch between them.

Danse felt her lean in, just a little. His gaze flickered down from her blue eyes to her lips. He felt his heart racing. He knew he should pull away. He knew he should say something to break the tension. But instead he leaned in and kissed her.

It was tender and hesitant. Nora squeezed his hand as she kissed him, trying to memorize every detail. But Danse pulled away abruptly, his eyes squeezed shut in a look of almost physical pain.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered desperately, more to himself than to her. “I’m sorry, I…” he looked up at her, the shock in her eyes only making him feel worse. “I don’t know how to do this.”

“Do what?” Nora asked softly, resisting the urge to put her arm around him and hold him close.

“This,” Danse said in frustration, making a vague gesture with his hands. “Show emotions. Let people in. Love someone, be with them, any of it!” He stood, roughly scraping the legs of the metal chair against the concrete in his angst. He paced the length of the roof, trying to burn away some of the restless, frustrated energy that pervaded him. 

Nora was somewhat taken aback by his reaction. This was more emotion than she’d ever seen from Danse. It pained her to see him like this. She stayed seated, afraid to approach him lest he bolt like a wild animal.

He calmed down somewhat after a moment, rubbing his hands over his face and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry,” he said again. “It’s just…” he exhaled a long sigh and stared out over the western sky, standing in profile to Nora and not looking at her. He wouldn’t be able to get through the story if he had to look at her. And he wanted to explain. “I joined the Brotherhood with a man named Cutler. He was my best friend. We’d practically grown up together, always had each other’s backs. …About a year after I became a Paladin, Cutler went out on a routine scouting mission. And his squad never returned. I convinced my superiors to let me lead a rescue team to go find them.” Danse exhaled shakily, trying to push away the memories of that day and relay the facts. “They had been ambushed by a group of super mutants. The whole squad was dead, except Cutler. He was worse than dead. He had been exposed to the FEV and transformed into a super mutant. It was my duty to deliver a mercy killing.”

Nora didn’t interrupt him. She sat with her hands gripping her knees, watching Danse as he shared his past. Even from here, she could see the tension in his shoulders and jaw.

“I was deemed unstable for a while after that and was barred from field work. It was the darkest period of my life,” he confessed. He was quiet for another moment, recalling it.  “That grief lasted longer than I care to admit, longer than my superiors should have tolerated. But eventually…I found purpose in the Brotherhood’s mission. And I vowed that I would never put myself in that position again. I pushed away anyone who attempted to get to know me, and kept all my interactions strictly professional. Because getting close to someone just means that eventually you will have to lose them.” He finally turned and looked toward Nora. “But you…you somehow slipped past all the defenses I thought I’d set up. And now I…I don’t know what to do,” he confessed.

Nora got to her feet and took a small step toward him. “Danse…” She broke off, at a loss for words. “I’m not going to push you into something you don’t want,” she assured him. “We are effective teammates, and I value that relationship. But…I think loss and sadness are going to find you—all of us—no matter what we do. Grief is the price you pay for love.” She was silent for a moment, watching him take in her words. But she wanted to be true to her word and not push him. “I’ll give you some space—” she began, turning back to head for the door.

“No—” Danse reached for her, closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. He took her hand, pulled her close to him. Hadn’t he already grown fond of her? Wasn’t the damage done? Was the desperate, clawing loneliness he lived with really better than grief? “Please don’t go,” he whispered. “I’m sorry I don’t know what I want. I know I’m making a mess of this, but…”

“It’s okay,” Nora said, bringing her hand up to the back of his neck and running her thumb across the stubble on his jawline. “Life is a mess sometimes.”

Danse leaned into her touch, savoring the feeling of her hands on him. He moved one hand to her waist experimentally so that they stood chest to chest. He wanted to say something, wanted to find the words to express the roil of emotions he was feeling. But a sound on the wind caught his attention. 

“That’s a vertibird,” he said, looking to the sky.

Nora dropped her hand from his face and followed his gaze up. In the distance, she could hear the whir of aircraft. They flew in formation, clustered around a large shape, dark against the night sky. She had never seen anything like it in the Commonwealth. “What is that?” she asked warily. 

Danse was rooted to the spot. He couldn’t believe it. “The Prydwen.” He shifted his gaze and met Nora’s eye. “The Brotherhood of Steel is here.”