TITLE: The Price of Brotherhood
CHAPTER: 11, The Price of a Future
AN: Thinking about how to draw the story to a conclusion, I realized this is about Arsen and Danse, not about the politics of the Commonwealth. I'll save politics for my other story; It's a Long, Long Road.
"Three Laws of Robotics: A robot may not injure a human being or, through inaction, allow a human being to come to harm. A robot must obey orders given it by human beings except where such orders would conflict with the First Law." ―Isaac Asimov
"We need not be afraid of the future, for the future will be in our own hands." —Thomas Dewey
If Arsen could keep the ghosts of guilt and despair at bay until dawn, he would count himself lucky. Evil and sly they hung in the shadows ready to tear a man down at the first sign of weakness. Arsen intended to stay vigilant for Danse while the Paladin alternately paced the room, stopping long enough to rail against the fact of his very existence. If Arsen kept his eyes on Danse, and neither man acknowledged the presence of those phantoms they would make it through the night. For now, they were alive, and together and that counted for a lot. If only he could convince Danse.
When he could get him to sit down for a moment, their bodies canted toward each other. When in the darkness guilt and despair threatened to overcome Danse, Arsen soothed the troubled man with comforting hands and met each doubt expressed by Danse with words from his heart. If Danse needed a damn list, he'd make him one.
The trust Danse placed in him when they were naked and vulnerable. The honest desire in a pair of wary brown eyes that held just a bit of fear. The man's dry humor that always made Arsen laugh. The way he gave his heart and soul into everything he did. The friendship that bonded them in ways that nothing and no one could breach. The memory of their first night together when they'd undressed each other with nervous fingers.
"Danse?" He asked, lifting Danse's face to his. "Would a machine touch me the way you do? Would a machine care if I lived or died? If it's siblings, you want. You have brothers and sisters right outside that door. They are the best of the people I've met here. If you'll only let them in."
He talked about being scared. Arsen had never seen Danse actually frightened of anything, and that scared 's what frightened him. If Danse had thought about suicide then if he left him alone might he follow through?
"I should have stayed on the Prydwen and faced my fate."
"Teagan would have shot you for the caps."
"And no one would have lifted a voice in my defense."
"Danse, give me some credit for having some insight into what you're going through and for understanding that you're more than a little lost. Listen to me. I must go, but I cannot leave you here. I'll take you to the Mechanist's Lair where you can get cleaned up and rest. RJ and Cait know they way in they can get you inside."
But Danse was already shaking his head. "I can stay here. Make it more livable."
"I'm pulling rank on you, Paladin. It's the Mechanist's Lair."
"What is the Mechanist's Lair?"
"It's my Man Cave."
"What is a man cave?"
Arsen shook his head and remained silent. As the night drew out he offered support with the touch of his hand or expression. They talked about Maxson and grieved together over Haylen. If a few tears found their way down the man's cheeks, Arsen pretended not notice. Of all the strange events of the last twenty-four hours that this world no longer included Haylen seemed the most intolerable. Who would fuss at him about gathering tech? He could never tease her again in the dust and shadows of Cambridge Police Station or watch her guarded smile shine when he handed her something new. He knew her secret doubts about the BOS's mission. Then, for her to die so violently. Arsen pulled Danse into his arms and held him still. The two Paladins stayed close until the first glow of dawn found its way inside the bunker of Listening Post Bravo.
When Gage knocked on the door, Arsen was holding Danse's hand examining the calloused fingers and scars in the dim light.
"I love your hands," Arsen admitted with a chuckle.
"Boss? Sun's coming up. Better figure out what to do with these bodies. Me'in Deacon got 'em wrapped up."
Arsen reluctantly released Danse's hand, "That's Gage. We need a plan."
Eyes glancing everywhere but on Arsen, Danse replied, "There is only one path open to you. You are a Paladin, the senior field officer who reports directly to Elder Maxson."
Arsen dropped into the chair. "You're right. I hadn't thought it all out. I'll take them back to the Prydwen in Maxson's vertibird."
"And say, what?"
Exhausted Arsen rounded on Danse with anger so palpable Danse took a step back.
"Jesus Christ, Danse. You still doubt me?"
Danse caught Arsen to him with a hand on the back of his neck. "No, not you. I doubt my own body, my ability to breath, to function, to live in the world."
Arsen gave into the pressure of Danse's hand and grabbed the sides of his face. "I'll tell them we sold our power armor in Diamond City, got married and moved to Taffington Boat House to raise orphaned kids. You stubborn idiot. Come here."
The kiss he pressed to Danse's mouth was brutal in the intensity of its meaning and filled with the anxiety of someone who needs desperately needs to be understood. After a sharp sound of hesitation, Danse gave in hauling Arsen against him and returned the kiss.
"Say, it. Look me in the eye."
A ragged breath later, Danse managed, "If I cannot accompany you to the Prydwen then know that I am with you in spirit."
Arsen nodded, "I like the sound of that. That's what I feel when I'm away from you. That you are with me, guiding me and watching my back. Why do you suppose it feels that way, Danse?"
"Because you love me."Danse's eyes cut away. "A-And, I love you."
Arsen stepped away, gathering his weapon and pack, "Then, tell me. Are you alive or dead?"
Something yanked on the armor cowl and Arsen felt his center of balance shift. Before he could catch himself, he was staring at the ceiling of the bunker.
"Alive," Danse said before Arsen could find his feet. The door locked from the outside.
Pounded his fists against the door. The fool would get himself killed.
"Danse!"
~o0o~
Paladin Danse settled the vertibird into its berth and cut the engines. When no one came out to greet him, he dropped to the deck and glanced up at the guard. Danse got his answer when the Knight tipped his head as if speaking into a radio.
Palms open Danse lifted his arms away from his power armor. Then hatches opened, and four Knights joined the first. They didn't hesitate to level their miniguns at him.
"Paladin! Identify yourself."
"I am Paladin Danse. I bring the bodies of Elder Maxson and Scribe Haylen."
"You know we were ordered to shot you on sight?"
That order has been rescinded."
"By whom?"
"By me. Stand down and await further orders." As Senior Paladin, he needed to take charge now before anyone else tossed in doubt or idea. Danse dragged in a breath, squared his shoulders and removed his helmet.
One of the Knights hit the back of his legs with the minigun.
"Strike me again, and I'll test your armor integrity by throwing you off this deck. Make a line," Spitting orders before anyone could draw a breath, Danse jumped in with both boots. He could only hope they'd respond to him and not kill him out of hand.
Danse began issuing orders, hoping that his voice sounded louder than the herd of death claws churning his gut. The Knights pulled together shoulder to shoulder.
"Remove the bodies and take them directly to MedBay. Stay there and guard the room. No one, but Knight Captain Cade or I allowed in or out. You, take that vertibird and bring Knight Rhys to me. Say nothing to him. Clear?
A chorus of "Yes, sir," let him know they'd heard him. Good. "Turn to. I'll be on the observation deck."
In a fair imitation of Maxson, Danse stood with his hands clasped behind his back staring out at the Commonwealth. The claustrophobic armor stood silently next to him. The maelstrom of thoughts bounced in his head to the beat of his heart.
I am a synth. Is that what gave me the strength and perseverance to become such a successful soldier? Was infiltrating the Brotherhood of Steel my mission? If so, what part did he play? He'd done nothing to undermine the BOS. If they knew one of their runaway synths was seen at the airport, why had no one come looking for him before now? According to Arsen a Courser would have come and wiped his memory.
That thought drove his gut into overdrive.
What if Danse were programmed to create a relationship with him? Shaun would know about Danse and Arsen. Intimacy with Arsen provided the BOS avenues into the Commonwealth they could not have achieved on their own. And Danse was different, special even. Determined, focused. Until Arsen, Danse had walked this world alone. Hindsight reminded him that in those moments of intimacy, skin against skin each of them vulnerable and trusting he always felt he held something back. Was it simply his greater strength and not wishing to hurt Arsen or something else? It wasn't something that would have to be faked. Programmed to do anything a synth wouldn't have to fake affection, or devotion or loyalty. Was he programmed to operate in a manner that ensured mission success?
Danse swallowed hard and knotted the trembling hands at his back.
~o0o~
Arsen rolled to his feet. With the sound of the vertibird in the distance, Gage and RJ burst through the door.
"We couldn't stop him, Boss!"
Forcing his thoughts away from Danse, he found only the memory of his son. The things his Shaun said to him about the Institute's mission and goals. The gray-haired man and his insane ideas about the world he'd never seen. That had not been his son. Any fantasy, or expectation of the man his son might have become ended that day. The little boy he'd helped bring into the world died with his wife as surely as if Kellogg shot him too.
The idea of fatherhood hadn't been real to him, even after Shaun's birth. He often felt as if he were sleepwalking through his perfect life. A good father did this. A good husband did that. The best neighborhood, the right car in the driveway, a beautiful wife, and a child. The day Shaun was born, Nora's father clapped him on the back, thanked him for giving him his first grandchild. 'A boy,' he'd said with a grin and handed him a check for one hundred thousand dollars.
Arsen accepted the check and thanked his father-in-law. He'd never seen that much money in his life. Less than a year later, the money was rendered meaningless in the firestorm that devastated Concord and the world. What would Nora's father think about this new world, where a man could live, not on nickels and dimes or one hundred dollar bills, but bottle caps? If you stayed sharp, you could live on a few caps a day. There was always work that paid enough to purchase food or a roof over your head.
Arsen headed out the door with his companions on his heels. When they were clear of the building, Arsen fired off a flare.
What if they didn't get to Danse in time?
~o0o~
"Paladin Danse? Knight Rhys reporting as ordered, sir."
Startled from his thoughts, Danse turned around too quickly to hide the emotions etched into his face. He resisted the urge to sniff or scrubbed at his face. Barely.
The usual grimace was absent today. Rhys stared into his face searching for answers. What had he heard?
Danse poured Rhys two fingers of Elder Maxson's good whiskey and waved him to a seat.
"Scribe Haylen did a very brave thing last night and paid the price with her life. She sacrificed herself to save me from Elder Maxson. She's dead. She defended me, Knight Rhys. She defended me with her life. She didn't care if I was a synth."
Without making a sound Rhys, twitched in his seat. The glass rattled to the ground. A pool of brown liquid spread across the deck. The shattered glass reflected the lights.
"I-I'm sorry. It happened very quickly. Arsen and I didn't even know she was there."
Grief was the ghost looking over his shoulder. An apparition that taunted him with what ifs and guilt over his actions. The young man next to him tried to breathe but managed a sob instead. Danse sat quietly allowing Rhys to have his moment.
"I thought we had time." Rhys' admission came out like a child waiting for an adult to tell him everything would be okay.
"She's in the Infirmary. Would you like to say goodbye?"
Rhys scrubbed at his face, "Yeah, I-I'd like that."
"Come on then. I'll kick Cade out, and you can shut the door. Knight Rhys?"
Danse's slight change of tone brought Rhy's head up. Arsen had told him he was capable of compassion. Time to put that to the test. "I understand. You know I do, but I'll need you at 100% to help me with what's ahead. Things are coming whether or not we are grieving."
Rhys cracked his shoulders square, "Understood, sir. Sir?"
Danse stopped.
"I don't give a damn if you're a synth. You're the best soldier I've ever had the pleasure of serving under. You're a good man, sir."
"Come on." Danse walked Rhys down the corridor walking slightly in front of him to partially shield the anguished man from inquisitive eyes. Danse gave Knight Captain Cade a nod when they arrived.
On the far side of the room were the remains of Scribe Haylen. Cade had covered her, so all that was visible was her face. Someone had washed the blood away and smoothed her hair.
"Would you like to be alone?"
"Yes. No. I don't know. Why her?"
"Rhys, a long time ago I accidentally read her diary. In it, she talked about her career in the BOS. She also said she'd begun to doubt the wisdom of the violence in Maxson's methods. I never told anyone about it. Rhys, what she did last night was brave and selfless. In spite of what she knew about me, Haylen sacrificed herself to protect me from Maxson. I miss her too, and I will for a long time, but let's try and remember the good things about her and honor her memory and her deeds."
"Aye, sir." Rhys bent over Haylen, and in a gesture, Danse never imagined seeing kissed her cheek and murmured, "I love you, Hayley."
Paladin Danse backed out of the room and headed to the central bay. Exhaustion gnawed at him, teasing him into laying down. The events of the last twenty-four hours had worn him thin. How much he had left to give he didn't know. But as he remembered one of his favorite sayings, 'the only way home is forward.' He keyed cleared his throat and opened a mic.
"Attention, all hands. This is Paladin Danse. All crew members not on guard duty report to the repair bay immediately."
Ingram arrived first, her brown eyes full of questions. Proctor Teagan and Knight-Captain Cade followed her in. Last came Lancer-Captain Kells walking slowly behind his bridge crew, his face set in a mask of control. Proctor Quinlan unexpectedly appeared at his side.
He could be certain he had their respect, but how they might react to this news might leave him dead on the floor in the next five minutes.
Who would tell, Arsen?
"I will count on your respect, if not for me, then my rank, to hear me out."
Lancer Captain Kells said in a voice that made sure everyone heard him, "No one will harm you, Paladin. That is a promise."
