March 11, 2288

He heard that when she'd appeared, it had been much the way she'd left: the same spectacle of lightning, bright beams of charge dropping her to her knees at the entrance to the airport. She'd keeled over, coughed and choked and heaved onto the ground. The knights standing guard had let her, did little beyond alerting Elder Maxson to her presence, and it had been Deacon that helped her to her feet: quaking, shivering, weeping Nora, testifying without any words at all to the depravity of the Institute and drawing every eye as she slouched against her partner, barely strong enough to keep her knees from buckling. Entropy, as Ingram had hypothesized.

Danse was almost glad he hadn't been there, hadn't seen her that way. War tempered the strong and broke the weak. He'd thought-hoped-she'd seen enough bloodshed in her lifetime to be confident she belonged to the fortunate former but this was decidedly more than what one person could be expected to cope with.

The news made its way to him almost instantly when he returned by way of conversation not meant for his ears but carelessly noisy. But duty came first. It had to, even if his eyes scanned his surroundings for silver hoops and caramel tresses. He sent Nate to Ingram with the magnet and marched into the ship, only to find his elder unexpectedly on the command deck, sagging uncharacteristically under his exhaustion and in hushed conversation with Kells.

They were all losing sleep then, it seemed.

"Sir," he brought his arm up to his chest.

Maxson lifted his head, countenance shifting into something guarded or at least more reticent than the moment before. "Paladin. Report."

"Medford Memorial Hospital has been cleared and the magnet located. It's currently in Ingram's possession."

"Excellent work. I'm eagerly awaiting Liberty Prime's completion." There was a palpable suspense in the air as Danse waited to be informed of Nora's presence. Blue eyes wrinkled at the corners, debating, and when he spoke, the words were stiff. "Nora has notified us that Dr. Li will be joining us once again."

He raised an eyebrow. "When did she return?"

"Yesterday at approximately 1300," Kells volunteered.

"Outstanding."

Arthur stepped forward and clasped his hand, pressing hard plastic into his skin. "Her debriefing. Familiarize yourself with it. We move on Bunker Hill in two days."

Whatever had transpired in the Institute, whatever Nora had seen, had led them to war. It was no longer a threat but a promise and Maxson's eyes glinted with an excitement the paladin mirrored.

It wasn't bloodlust. Just the first eager beats of the exhilaration of battle.

Maxson dismissed him and his objective shifted to the terminal in his quarters. Showers and meals be damned. Nervous fingers pressed the holotape into the slot below the green glow of the screen and supported his chin as he slumped back into his chair, waiting. Seconds later, the telltale tick sounded and the unfamiliar baritone of a scribe followed.

"Institute infiltration mission debriefing, the 10th day of March, 2288. Time: 1543. Recording."

"Alright, Nora. How are you feeling?"

...

"Nora?"

...

"Would you like to speak with someone trained in mental health?"

"...I don't know. I'm..."

"Is this about your son?"

...

"Were you able to locate Shaun?"

"Yes. And no."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he's... not coming back to me. Ever."

"I'm going to bring in a scribe to screen you, Nora. Once you're feeling better, we can continue this."

Click.

"Institute infiltration mission debriefing, session two, the 11th day of March, 2288. Time: 0155. Recording."

"You requested to try again. Start where you're comfortable."

"I'm still... *shaky breath* I don't know if I can do this but I have to."

"Why do you have to?"

"Because they're going to attack the Railroad."

"How did you learn that?"

"Read it on a terminal."

"They let you read their files?"

"Of course not. Dr. Li gave me access."

"You found Dr. Li. I take it that went well, then. I imagine she's returning."

"She is, yes."

"Can you tell us how this started?"

"...I... materialized in some room. It looked like a lab. The whole place does. Like a pre-war doctor's office straight out of a magazine. And there was a console in front of me so I loaded the network scanner into the terminal and then when I finished with that, I stepped into... there was an elevator, I think. And a voice started talking over the speakers-there's speakers everywhere there. And..."

"Take your time."

"It was a man. He sounded like... well, like a scientist, I guess. Cold and detached. I walked through some other rooms to find him but it wasn't hard. It's set up to lead you straight to him."

"What did he say?"

"That he'd been watching me and he expected me. He said he wasn't going to hurt me. He just wanted to talk. Then I got to his room but..."

...

*sobs*

"Do you need another break, Nora?"

"...Shaun was just... in this little glass room."

"Was he alive?"

"He... *clears throat* No. No, he... My baby boy... That Shaun wasn't my Shaun. He... didn't know me. I told him I loved him and I was going to get him out of there and he screamed at me like I was some stranger."

"I see. I'm terribly sorry, Nora."

"Me, too."

"Was the synth a replacement?"

"...he didn't say."

"What happened next?"

"The man came out. Told me he was glad I was there. I don't know. He kept saying things like that. I didn't hear that much, I just kept crying and I couldn't stop. And I asked to hold Shaun. He said a recall code and opened the door and then I didn't want to anymore. Not like that. He looked dead or... comatose. It didn't feel right."

"That's... understandable."

"He apologized. Said it's all very experimental and they don't want to overwhelm Shaun... Jesus. I can't..."

"What did he want from you? Why was he glad to see you?"

"He wants a liaison. Someone to talk them up to the settlers topside and make them look good. Some wastelander they'll trust. They know their days are numbered with public opinion the way it is. If I agreed, he told me I could see Shaun again. We could live down there."

"And if you didn't agree? What then?"

"Then... I was free to go."

"Without Shaun."

"...without Shaun."

"What did you choose, Nora?"

"I'm... playing along."

"What does that mean?"

"It means he thinks I'm here on Institute business. But it doesn't really matter. I'll be found out as soon as our heavies show up armed to the teeth at Bunker Hill. I only did it to buy time. I poked around and I'm sure he knew I would. There wasn't a thing out of place. There'sneveranything out of place in the Institute. But he didn't count on Li's sympathies. She's the only reason I know as much as I do."

"You'll have the support of the Brotherhood. How many soldiers do you need?"

"Arthur-"

"The Institute is our mutual enemy. This is as much our war as it is yours. I'll spare all the manpower and supplies you require."

"Thank you, Arthur."

"What of your son?"

...

"There are ways-"

"No. No. I have no proof that Shaun is even in there somewhere. For all I know, he's gone and they'll be stringing me along with empty promises for the foreseeable future."

"You have my word that we'll tear the place apart before it's destroyed."

"That's... kind of you."

"You were there for three days. Was there anything else to report?"

"I talked to their people and searched anywhere I could without seeming suspicious. Most of it was a dead end. I've reported all I know."

"Very well. Your contributions have been essential, Nora. Recuperate aboard the Prydwen. It's the least we can do to show our gratitude."

Click.

Danse leaned forward and propped his elbows on his knees, rubbing his forehead. Shaun was most certainly not replaced, not if he was a synth to begin with, but she'd implied it anyway. It wasn't that she was untruthful but to call her interview honest would be a stretch. But what else could she have done? It was hardly reasonable to expect she'd prioritize anything over her son, let alone an order that wouldn't hesitate to blow the place to kingdom come, synths and all.

She was doing what she could and he wasn't about to berate her for it. Her voice in the recording sounded jaded, could only come from a woman dead on her feet and running on fumes. He was deeply familiar with burnout, let it ravage his body and mind again and again, but watching it gut Nora was a new kind of torture. It wasn't his job to check on her but suddenly she was more important than food, than hygiene, than paperwork. He all but leapt from his seat and out of his quarters, couldn't get his legs to carry him fast enough to wherever she was.

Not in her bunk, not in the mess, not in the medbay.

He opened the door to the flight deck, abandoned at that hour, and brown hair danced into his field of vision, waving wildly from the confines of a ponytail.

Before he was close enough to reach out and touch her, he noticed the purple pooling under her eyes. She looked the picture of composure from a distance, stronger than when she'd left with her head held high and her spine tall and proud but when she turned to look at him, he could see her fully and how her circumstances were aging her.

"Hey there, sol-"

He crushed her to his chest, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and burying his face in her hair. She let out a squeak and her arms hung loosely at her sides before they settled against his back, fingers curling into the fabric there.

"Crushing me just a little, Danse."

"You're alive."

"Ye of little faith," she smirked up at him. "I can handle myself, you know."

His fingers gripped her jaw and turned her head as he searched for cuts, bruises, signs of harm.

Her smile faltered, shrunk as her eyes watered. "Hey. I'm fine."

"I'm glad," he nodded and stepped back, resuming the role of disinterested paladin despite the the way the lines around her mouth deepened with the effort of holding back tears. He noticed. He always noticed.

She looked down, picking at the sleeves on her jacket. "I'm not a mom anymore," she whispered.

He wasn't sure how much of what she'd said had been truth but seeing her that way was enough of an answer. She'd lost him, in however many ways, and while it would've seemed to anyone else that she was distraught, he knew her better than that, recognized that her tears were angry and not defeated.

Nora wasn't one to give up. Some things never change.

"Mind wipe?"

She nodded solemnly. "I was so happy to find him alive. But it's so much worsethan if they'd just killed him, Danse. He's just a project to them and dammit, I hate it."

His hands twitched and he crossed his arms over his chest to still them.

"It was just an experiment," she grit her teeth. "Everything's a fucking experiment to them."

"What do you mean?"

"They planned it. Shaun, I mean. He was supposed to 'escape', find some wasteland parents so they could observe his development outside of a lab. It just so happened that he chose me and I used to feel damn lucky," she choked. "But now... I feel used. I feel like an idiot. Just some stupid variable."

His eyes widened as he processed her words. It wasn't all that surprising that the Institue had so little regard for ethical boundaries. Any organization willing to kidnap and replace human beings couldn't be expected to observe a shred of decency but this seemed a new low and if it was because it was simply a new tactic he hadn't known them to use before or that this time it was Nora being abused, he couldn't say. His cheeks grew warm, righteous anger heating his blood, and he scratched at his jaw.

"And they're lording him over me now," she continued weakly. "Saying they'll restore his memories if I comply. I'm not even sure they can do that. I've never...the Railroad hasn't ever tried to retrieve anything before. That's not really our business. I should radio Amari tomorrow. She would know."

Planning, always planning, a furious storm when she wanted to be. Pure force, the way she moved through the world, but everything burned out eventually and he could see the signs: the hollows in her cheeks, the wavering flicker beneath her irises. She was draining herself, bleeding herself dry. Zero or 100. It wasn't sustainable.

He placed a hand over hers on the railing and curved their fingers over the metal.

She stared at their hands, chewed on her cheek. Eventually, she leaned into him. Just her shoulder at first and then after prolonged consideration, after moments of oxytocin and body heat and patience, she let her side fall against his.

She looked down, suddenly shy, and studied her boots. "You can have your gun back."

"That's not necessary."

"It's yours. It looks nice."

"I would feel better if you kept it."

She stepped around him and down the catwalk, casting a beckoning glance over her shoulder. She was quick to brush off the sorrow and turn her mouth up playfully at him. "Does that mean I get to rename it?"

He hesitantly followed, slowing as he neared her side to match her stride. The night wasn't still; gunfire reverberated from some far off corner of the city below and sent a tremor through his fingers.

"I'm kidding, you know. I like Righteous Authority. Very badass."

Danse swallowed his embarrassment but couldn't help the reddening of his cheeks. He'd forgotten the engraving along the grip of his rifle. "Language, Adler."

That stopped her, spun her around to reveal an incredulous expression. "You know, I knew a guy in Rivet City like that. Hated swearing and ended up with the most foul-mouthed woman."

"He sounds like a fool."

"Oh, he was. Young and dumb and reckless. I kind of liked it."

"You're a magnet for trouble."

She laughed, shuffled a few inches closer to him. "It just made it all the more amusing when he actually swore. He did, behind closed doors, anyway, but-"

He cleared his throat, feeling the blush burn darker. "Inappropriate, Adler."

"-it carried sometimes when he yelled 'FUCK'," she shouted the last word over the side of the railing, hands cupped over her mouth to amplify the sound. When she looked back at him, it was to a disapproving frown that did nothing to dampen her ear-to-ear grin. "And then she got a noise complaint the next day. Good times."

He couldn't stay stern in the face of her defiance, cracked after only seconds and brought his hand up to scratch his jaw and cover the smile. "In his defense, he wasn't made aware of the complaint."

She shrugged. "She told that lady to stuff it. All's well that ends well."

The wind picked up and pieces of hair obscured her face. A good enough excuse to reach out and brush them away and then to linger. He ran his fingertips over her cheekbones and down the slope of her jaw and she leaned into into it, closed her eyes and stepped forward in blind faith.

With no one watching, after he checked and double checked, he dropped his forehead to hers. She bit her lip and turned her head to the side, to the waves of water crashing noiselessly below them. Her breath caught but then she controlled it, forced the transition to deep inhales before she pulled away altogether. "Strange."

"Hmmm?"

She shook her head, hoops bouncing against her neck, while she popped the joints in her fingers. Dark eyes avoided him, looked at anything else, anywhere but him, and when they returned to his, they shined wetly. "It's different, is all. You're different."

"Does that upset you?"

She shifted her weight onto her back leg, a move away from him. "I just wish I knew what the hell to do about it."

He wasn't any better. He didn't know what to do with the firecracker woman in front of him any more than she did him. Tumultuous, unruly, intensity incarnate and he was level analysis. None of that would matter if they were just on the same side but pitted as they were against one another, he could only see a calamitous future, only ruin and atrophy. Irreconcilable differences, he thought. Too many, a boundless amount, and theirs was a story destined for tragedy. "You're important to me, Nora."

She sighed from lips half-smiling and tinged with sadness. "I know, Danse."

"I..." he stammered. "Our current arrangement..."

She nodded, gulping back tears.

He was just making it worse but he didn't know what to say, how to explain the conflict razing him and just how damn much he cared. She made him a great many things. Aggravated and tense and unsettled. And, more than all of that, strong and weightless and unassailable. Eyebrows drew together over disappointed eyes and demolished him, more effective than a physical blow. He could fix it. Fix them, what he broke when he left in his anger, the relationship he'd severed in a settlement in the capital wasteland. Take back what he'd lost to her or die trying because he'd lived without her and knew it was hollow.

At once, his lips were on hers, a strong hand at her neck coaxing her forward, insistent on her nearness. They were charged yet restrained and the sound of the breath leaving her lungs was the sound of surrender. She thawed under the warmth of his body and molded herself to him, pushed close until they looked like they used to, like twentysomethings entangled and holding on to their living, breathing lifeline. She threw her arms around his neck and his snaked around her waist, where they stayed even when their lips broke apart, breath mingling in the scant inches between them as they took quick and shallow gasps of air.

They didn't speak, a moment devoid of words but brimming with comprehension. If Nora doubted before, now she knew. She was important, his life bound up in hers in too many ways to undo, and come hell or high water, he was unable to be anywhere but by her side.

Beyond the Prydwen, the world was in tatters and people had precious little to their names. But this-them, tranquility and rest, the eye in a raging storm-hadn't wilted and people had fought for less.