11. Uranium Fever

The reason for the random skeletons in the lobby became apparent as they reached the second floor. The remains of a few protectrons were scattered around, some more skeletons lying nearby in contorted positions. Danse warned Quinn to watch her step and tried to refrain from grabbing her arm to guide her through the mess. Her skin was flushed and eyes glossy, her slow movements telling Danse that she did not have a proper grasp on the situation anymore. She had however promised to ask for help when needed and he respected that.

"Such a waste," said Quinn, sadness in her eyes. "All of this could have been prevented. They didn't have to die. And the robots were destroyed as well… they would have been useful to get from here." Danse appreciated that line of thinking. She is finally thinking in terms of what could benefit the Brotherhood. I guess the training has paid off.

They reached a room lined with filing cabinets. Most drawers were open, displaying their stacks of yellowed folders and papers. In the middle of the room was a table that was mostly empty, save for one note, a mug and a peculiar small box. The skeleton that leaned on the table still had its fingers wrapped around the mug. Danse slipped on some paper scraps and caught hold of the table to avoid falling. That sent the skeleton crashing to the ground, making Quinn wince as her arms flew towards her ears to shield them.

"Sorry for that, the mess in here is not made for walking." Danse picked up the paper and let his eyes skim over the lines, eyebrows drawing into a frown. Quinn leaned closer to read as well, but gave up very quickly and leaned against the table.

"Could you read it out? I can't focus properly." Danse could tell that the question took a lot of effort from her side. Admitting weakness was not her forte.

"Sure." Danse wetted his lips with the tip of his tongue, feeling the dryness. Despite all the water he had drunk, it didn't seem to be enough. His stomach was protesting as well, demanding the lunch and dinner they had skipped. And who knows, perhaps breakfast as well? He had lost all sense of time.

"Everyone else left tried to get into Bergman's lab to get the password for the Isotope Containment, but he rigged up some kind of gun. Ericka was killed. Most of my hair is gone from the radiation and I can barely see. There's no way I can finish the research on my own now, so I've chosen to make it a quicker end."

He hesitated before reading the last lines. She knew those people. I'm not sure how painful all of this must be for her. For once, the abominations are actually people she had interacted with. This must be one of her worst nightmares come true. He finished reading out the note, his voice raspy from thirst and reluctance. "Jon Elwood, I'll see you in hell. Tom Franklin."

Quinn let a heavy breath out, visibly deflating under his concerned glance. "They all died and it was his fault. They all died here." She pulled her hands through her messy hair, arms shaking. "No. This was Jon's fault. He locked them in. Wil was just trying to get out and the things he did were out of desperation."

Danse didn't respond since she seemed to be talking more to herself than him by that point. He looked to the side, giving her time to pull herself together. We have to keep moving though. Her condition is only going to get worse and the radiation dose I got will soon start affecting me as well. We have to get out before both of us die here – or worse, turn into ghouls.

She must have come to a similar conclusion, since she pushed herself up from the leaning position against the table and wiped her eyes. "Alright, let's go. We still need to find the isotope. And I'm assuming this blown up ceiling is our way in." There was a ramp of sorts created as a strip of the ceiling had fallen to the floor, one end still attached at the top. She stumbled when starting to walk towards it, but managed to stay upright, determination on her sweaty face.

He could see her knuckles turning white as she grabbed the side of the ramp. Righteous Authority in her right hand, the other desperately grasping the jagged edge of the metal ramp, she made her way up to the top of the ceiling. Danse followed her closely, ready to catch her in case she lost her footing.

They were both relieved to find that the way to Bergman's barricaded lab was not actually inside a ventilation duct. Instead they found a spacious tunnel of sorts, with the ventilation duct running on the left side and various pipes along the right side and the bottom of the tunnel. In some places, the ceiling tiles had broken away, leaving a gaping hole with just a thin strip of metal for walking on.

Quinn was wobbling on her feet, but still staying upright without voicing any complaints. She stopped in front of the first hole, hesitation on her face. "I think I need help with this one." Her voice was so quiet that Danse could barely hear her, not to mention that he wasn't sure what he heard was actually correct. Wait, is Quinn actually asking for help? She must really be struggling.

Danse relieved her of her rifle and slung it on his shoulder. He was the first to step on the edge, using his left hand to grasp the pipes for balance. He reached out his other hand towards Quinn who was still standing near the hole, slowly blinking her eyes and swaying a bit. "Just hold on, I won't let you fall. And tell me if you need a break."

She took hold of his hand and made a hesitant step forward. Danse could feel the fever that was burning her – even her hand was as if she had been lying in the summer sun for too long. He didn't dare to think what would her body temperature be at that point.

They made their way to the opening above Bergman's lab, Quinn leaning more heavily on his arm with every hole they had to cross. Her eyes were barely open when Danse took a peek down the final hole, contemplating how they should drop down. The dark room did not look inviting in the least and he did not like the idea of going in without knowing what was waiting for them in there. There was no other option though, so he was forced to make a decision. "I'll go first so I could support you. I'll let you know when it's safe to join me. Until then, just sit down and wait."

She agreed to the plan and sat down near the edge with a sigh escaping her chapped lips. Danse arranged the two rifles on his back so they wouldn't fall with the jump. With no backup weapons available, they could not afford losing anything. He took a deep breath and lowered himself into the room. His feet hit the ground with a painful thump; taking care of the weapons didn't allow him to roll for softening the landing.

The darkness and silence around him made him feel uneasy. The only way he could scout out the room properly was getting Quinn down there with her Pip-Boy light. "Get ready to drop," he told the waiting Knight. "I'm waiting just under the opening."

Quinn slid her legs over the edge and tried to slowly ease the rest of her body down, but her arms did not have enough strength for that. She went tumbling over the edge, with only Danse's expecting arms saving her from crashing to the floor. He held her up until she managed to find her footing. Her flashlight was illuminating half the room, allowing them to see that this lab had not escaped the destruction either. A skeleton was just a few metres away from them, some bones blasted to pieces.

The small circle of light darted around with Quinn trying to find the door, hesitating over a pile of torn clothes in the corner. By the time they realised that the pile was very much alive, it was already launching itself towards them. Danse shoved Quinn unceremoniously behind his back, reaching for a weapon with his other hand. The first one he grasped was Righteous Authority, so he pointed that at the ghoul who was already clawing at him. As attempting to shoot it at that range was pointless, he used the rifle to whack the creature over the head, bashing its skull.

The ghoul screeched as it fell to the side. Danse fired several shots in its withered body before it managed to wring its fingers around his ankle, pulling him down as well. Danse hit the ghoul with his elbow. The abomination lashed out with its free hand. Danse felt a warm and wet streak sliding down his throat where the ghoul had slashed at him. He grabbed Quinn's rifle and hit the creature again. Accompanied by a shriek, the ghoul closed its bony hands around his throat.

Arms reached out over Danse, smashing a heavy microscope into the ghoul's head. Its skull gave in with a sickening crack and the grasp on Danse's throat relaxed enough for him to be able to pull the disgusting limbs off him. He pushed himself up and saw Quinn standing above the ghoul, the microscope still grasped in her cramped fingers. She was shaking all over, making the light from her Pip-Boy dance around in a jerky pattern.

Danse peeled her fingers gently off the piece of lab equipment and set it aside on a table. There was a high chair at the counter next to them, so he guided her towards that and made her sit down. She had big beads of sweat on her forehead, some of them sliding down her face and making her squint as a few ended up in her eyes.

"Quinn?" His voice was hesitant. She is burning up. I have to get her out of here. She needs a doctor right now.

"I think we just killed Wil." The sentence was almost inaudible. Quinn drew a shaky breath, head stubbornly pointed away from where the ghoul was lying. "If this is his lab, we just killed him. My god, I killed Wil. I killed Wil."

The sweat on her face mixed with tears as she broke down. Danse stood awkwardly to the side as she cried, her shoulders shaking. She kept repeating her last sentences until the words turned into a chopped wail. Danse patted her shoulder, feeling the heat of her skin through the fabric.

"It was a ghoul. This was not the person you knew anymore." She was still crying, but turned her head upwards towards him. Encouraged by that, he kept talking, hoping to calm her down. "The person you knew was long dead. If anything, you did him a favour. A favour for him and everyone that he got killed with his reckless behaviour."

That was a wrong move. Quinn's breath turned to pained gasps as she neared a panic attack. Her fingers found their way to the front of his shirt, grasping at it with despair. He let her pull him closer in and lean on his chest as she cried. He moved his arms hesitantly, wrapping them around her shaking body and making a soothing noise as if he was trying to calm down a small child. He got a flashback to when he had comforted Haylen in a similar way. She, too, had lost someone she had cared about.

He stroked her back until her sobs quieted and she let go of his shirt, her head turning to the opposite direction to avoid looking at him. He was reluctant to remove his arms from around her, afraid she might fall from the chair or do something rash in her grief if he's not holding on to her anymore. You're her Commanding Officer and this is not appropriate. She will ask for support if she needs it.

He took a step away from her, not wanting to increase the awkwardness she must have been feeling. Despite her despair, she was pulling herself together to finish their mission. Eyes barely open from exhaustion, she let the light from her Pip-Boy illuminate all the corners of the lab room. A container was on a nearby counter, the metallic shine blinding them for a moment. Danse picked it up and confirmed it had U-238 written on the side. "We got what we're looking for. Time to get back to the machine."

Unfortunately, the only door was locked. Danse looked at the hole in the ceiling, considering lifting Quinn out through there. Even if she had the strength to pull herself up, he would still have been stuck in the lab and she would probably fall through a hole if she lost her balance even once on her way out. Not an option. The only way out was the door and that was secured through the terminal on the wall.

"Do you feel like you could hack this?" Danse looked at Quinn who nodded and tried to stand up. Her legs gave in the moment she put her weight on them, causing her to buckle to the floor.

"Can you help me to the terminal?" She still looked embarrassed, but at least she acknowledged that she would require assistance. Danse squatted down and wrapped his arm around her back, doing his best to avoid the areas that were the most damaged by the ghoul attacks. She gritted her teeth, eyes watering, but managed to stand up with his help.

Danse was impressed by her ability to handle the terminal in her condition. She is either much tougher than I expected or she has done this so many times that she could almost literally do this in her sleep. I wouldn't really be surprised if it were the second case, considering her actions on the Prydwen. We really need to get a security expert up there at some point to Quinn-proof the place.

Quinn entered the last command and the door slid open. Danse struggled with holding on to the isotope container and two weapons while dragging Quinn out with him and crossing the thin strip that remained of the balcony that connected Bergman's lab to the rest of the compound.

The machine was still running the analysis he had started earlier. He lowered Quinn back to the sofa, put the rifles and the container away and returned to her side with a first aid kit. "We still have a few meds left. They should help you pull through until we get out of here." He took out a big syringe, the vial filled with a purplish liquid. He frowned as he clinked his fingernails against the vial. Med-X was highly addictive, but it was the best painkiller they had available.

She should not suffer this much. He didn't allow himself to continue that train of thought as his subconscious told him that they might both die in that lab complex. If neither of the containers that were being analysed ended up being the missing component, he might as well go fetch the poison from the second floor to save them from further pain. His radiation sickness was not as bad as what she had, but even his pain and nausea were getting worse by the minute.

"This will make you feel better," he explained to Quinn as she peered at the syringe with half-closed eyes. "We just have to wait for the machine to be done with the analysis. Then we can finish the experiment and get out." And if not… He coughed and sat on the edge of the sofa to administer the med-X.

Quinn winced as the needle went in and the vial emptied into her vein. "Still not as bad as rat bites," she joked weakly. Danse smiled at that and disposed of the empty syringe. Quinn's eyes were following his movements, brow scrunching up. "Danse, is there still something for cleaning wounds in that med kit?"

"Did the ghoul injure you?" He turned back towards her, scrutinising her body to look for new wounds. She raised an arm to point at his neck.

"No, you took all of it this time. Come here, my turn to play the nurse." Danse obliged and sat next to her on the sofa. Her eyes were already clearer than before, but he knew that was just the kick of the chems. Her hands were shaking as she cleaned up the gash on his neck and applied a bandage to keep dirt from getting in the wound. "All done." She gave him a small smile as she handed the kit back to him. He put it aside, taking note of how few things remained in the box.

"Thank you." He made himself comfortable on the sofa before sitting up straight again to look at her. "Would you want me to vacate the sofa so you could take another nap?"

She waved her arm dismissively. "Nah, it's fine. You haven't slept at all since we came here, if I recall correctly. Just sit down and rest for a while, I won't be able to sleep with these meds anyway. I feel weirdly energetic on this, it's strange."

"That's why the Brotherhood limits the usage of med-X to extreme cases. The high it gives gets people hooked too easily and then they fool themselves into thinking they can't achieve anything without a little chemical help." The disdain in his voice made his mouth curl into a snarl, remembering a time when a squad mate had to be restrained during his withdrawal period.

"Yeah, I've seen something similar happen." She wrapped her arms around her knees that were pulled up to her chest, her eyes focused on something in the distance. "When I was studying in CIT, there were some people who used various pills to pull off their all-nighters before exams. Of course later they had such fucked up sleeping patterns that they kept going through the semester like that until their bodies gave in. Quite a few of them ended up in the hospital before they admitted they had a problem."

Danse was surprised. Not by the chem usage – he knew such vices were common even before the Great War. No, he was surprised that Quinn was telling him anything about her pre-war life without being wasted out of her mind while doing so. Then again, med-X is a worse offender than liquor.

"What was it like?" He paused and refined the question. "I mean, what was it like to go to CIT? Was it something like these labs, with experiments and innovation?"

She took a moment to think, her tongue darting out to wet her chapped lips. "Uh… yes and no. I mean, there was all the theoretical material we had to learn before we were allowed to even think about stepping inside a lab. But yes, after a certain amount of time most of the courses turned more practical than theoretical. That's where the real fun started."

A smile spread over her face, remembering her student years. "I pretty much lived in CIT for a few years. Nate was off on his deployments more often than he was home. I didn't really want to go to the empty apartment, so I stayed on campus until the last places shut down. I joined any and all after-class activities that seemed even remotely interesting to me. A small acting club? Sure, it's a great way to practise lying to my mother whenever she tries to get me to visit her. A group of students gathering to practise writing code and hacking existing code? Count me fucking in!"

Her expression turned melancholy and she wiped her face with a sleeve, removing some of the gathered sweat. "That's how I met Wil, Jon and Ericka. They were all older students when I was a lowly freshman. Whatever faults they had, they all believed in educating others. So they were in quite a few of those clubs as well, helping rookies learn."

Danse reached for two of the bottles he had stashed around the sofa. He opened one and handed it to Quinn before claiming the other bottle. The water had an odd after-taste, but it was still drinkable. Quinn poured half of hers down her throat in one go, barely stopping to swallow.

"Ahh, thank you. Now where was I… ah yes, the clubs. Well, my studies were mostly concerning robotics and artificial intelligence, so I didn't have much to do with ordinary terminals. Most of the stuff I knew came from my schoolyears where I fixed up schoolmates' electronical equipment for a fee. Helped me buy some food whenever mother had wasted all the money on her skank-ass vodka again."

"You studied artificial intelligence?" Danse's eyes widened. She might be more of an asset against the Institute than she realises. Could she reprogram synths?

"It was nothing as impressive as you'd think it was," responded Quinn, sloshing some water on her trousers as she waved the bottle around. "I mean, it was mostly some basic crap. I could handle a Mister Handy and other smaller things like that, but those robots were always under the control of their code. None of the stuff we dealt with was about properly self-determining machines like what those newer Institute synths are. I mean, of course we toyed around with the idea, but always as a theoretical future possibility, not anything real."

"Ah, you got what I was aiming at. That is unfortunate, such skills would be really useful in understanding how the Institute creates the nightmares they send to the Commonwealth." He finished his bottle and put it aside, his thirst demanding another one. He refrained from taking a new bottle of water, since Quinn would need it more than he did and he didn't know how long they would remain stuck in that hellhole.

"Yeah, can't really help with that. I can make a mean targeting system for a turret though. And thanks to Wil's not entirely legal teachings there should be very few terminals that are safe from me." She laughed, her eyes squinting in mirth. "I kind of get his reasoning. If companies were stupid enough to sell terminals with gaping security holes, it wasn't really that bad to exploit those holes. I mean, it was their own fault for not hiring proper professionals, if even students could crack their security."

Danse couldn't agree with that statement, but he was too engrossed in her story to ruin it by scolding her. Her memories and experience were a treasure trove, really. The only people who knew what pre-war life was like were some ghouls (with whom he was not about to have any kind of discussions, even if they weren't feral yet) and this woman sitting next to him on that tattered sofa. The kind of things that he had only read about had been her everyday life. He found it fascinating.

A low beep from the machine interrupted their chat. The analysis was ready. He rushed to check the results, his heartrate spiking with anxiety. That result would determine whether Quinn could still be saved before radiation did irreparable damage to her internal organs. His vision was getting blurry, forcing him to squint to read the bright green letters on the screen.

"Tungsten." He wasn't entirely sure anymore, but this was probably not what they had been looking for. One glance at Quinn's worried face confirmed his suspicion. He wiped his brow that was developing a thin film of sticky sweat and concentrated on the screen again. "Gold." He looked at it again to be sure. "Gold! That was the other one we needed, right?"

"Yes!" In her excitement, Quinn found the strength to get up and walk over to the machine. "That's it! Gold and lithium hydride. Now we just have to put them both in here and I guess the isotope goes in the other clamp on the right. We did it, Danse!"

She held her arm up in the air for a high five. Danse laughed in relief and clapped his hand against hers, holding on to it for a moment before they both let their arms fall down again. With feverish speed, Quinn helped him set up the machine for the production process. Both were holding their breath as the entire machine powered up, the whining of the engine filling the room with eerie noise. Their jubilant feeling was somewhat dampened by another progress bar that was ever so slowly moving towards the end, the machine grinding along.

"This will take ages," groaned Quinn. She faltered and leaned heavily against the machine, nearly pushing a few of the buttons. I guess the med-X high is already wearing off. Damn faulty old chems. He helped her hobble back to the sofa, where she slumped down with a faint smile on her face.

"Hey, Danse. Stop looking so glum. We did it, we'll be getting out. As soon as that stupid machine is done, we'll be out of here and never coming back. Someone else can come and pick up all the stuff and record the instructions on the terminals, I will not set my foot in here again." Her mouth quivered, erasing the smile. "Do you think someone would agree to bury Wil though? He was pretty much my mentor through my worst years in CIT; feels wrong to leave him to rot here."

"I will put in a request." He tried to mask his disdain and lied through his teeth. As much as he meant to her, this is not happening. He knew no Brotherhood soldier would waste their time to bury a ghoul. The most they would do was to drag the bodies to a field and burn them, if the compound were to be used at some point. Whatever his own sentiments on the topic were, he was not about to tell Quinn about them. The last thing she needed in her condition was to worry about dead bodies.

She had started shivering again. Danse fetched the jacket and wrapped it around her, despite her protests that she was fine. "Try to get some sleep. The meds will wear off soon and I'd rather not inject you with anything more if that can be avoided. And yes, I will wake you once the process is done."

She looked like her mind was ready to argue with him, but the body was giving up. She tried lying down, but pushed herself back into a seated position with a hand clasped over her mouth. After a while, her arm slid down next to her, a frown on her face as she drifted off to sleep. Danse had intended to stay awake to watch over the process and her health, but tiredness took over shortly after he sat on a chair next to the machine.

Danse woke with a start, a piercing beeping noise letting him know that the process was finally finished. Feeling disoriented due to his sudden wake-up call, he stumbled as he got up. A cloud of dust flew into the air, making him cough. Having cleared his eyes, he squinted at the terminal. It claimed the production test was a success. But where was the result? There had to be something he could show to that blasted robot so they'd be released.

He found an opening with a conveyer belt. Reaching through the rubber flaps that concealed the view, he touched something metal. It had a very familiar shape. After a moment of hesitation, he pulled it out.

A power armour chest plate? That's it? It's done? He turned to share the news with Quinn, but the noise had not woken her. She had drooped towards her right side, head lolling without support. A string of blood and saliva trailed from her mouth to the sofa. No. No-no-no. Please be alive.

Danse rushed to her, letting the chest plate fall to the floor next to the sofa. He used the cleanest part of the jacket to wipe the blood off her face and put two fingers on her neck to check for a pulse. He let out a breath of relief as he felt the heartbeat. It was weak, but still there. Despite his nausea and rising headache, he grabbed the power armour piece and hurried to the clean room.

He banged on the window, trying to catch the robot's attention. "Come here! We finished the experiment. Let us out!" His voice was not as loud as he had hoped, so he punctuated his shouts with more thumps against the glass. His rage was calling bloody murder by the time Molly floated into his line of sight.

He shoved the power armour plate against the window for the robot to see. "See, we did it. The result is here. Open the damn door."

Molly moved closer to inspect the object through the window. The rusty arms spun into action in excitement. "Splendid! Let me just open this. I'm sure the director would want to see you." Danse considered punching one of its eyes out as the robot opened the door, but refrained from doing so. It would not help him nor Quinn if he started a fist fight with a malfunctioning robot. Instead, he let the power armour piece fall to the ground and rushed back to the main research room.

Having strapped both rifles to his back once more, he picked Quinn up from the sofa to carry her out of the labs. She was completely blacked out, her head dangling from side to side until it slid against his chest and stopped there. Even with his own beginnings of fever, he could feel the heat of her body burning his arms and chest. By steel, if she dies like this, it will be my fault. I should have taken over earlier. I should have said something about leaving our armour behind. I should have-

His thoughts got cut off. He had rushed past Molly, who still insisted they should see the director, and reached the reception area. Before he could push the main doors open with his shoulder, someone else opened them from the outside, nearly toppling him over.

"Paladin Danse?" Rhys looked at him with a concerned frown. "We came to find you after you didn't return from the mission. You've been gone for two days."

Two days? Did I fall asleep at some point before? How could it have been this long? Rhys was still standing there expectantly, two other soldiers behind him. "We got locked in. Managed to break out only now. Got hit with rads; Knight Quinn needs immediate medical assistance."

One of the soldiers stepped forward, offering to carry Quinn as the Paladin himself didn't look overly well. He refused, tightening his hold around her passed out form. "I can do this. She got heavily radiated and it would be tactically irresponsible to spread the rads any further. I'm already hit as well, so it doesn't make much of a difference in my case."

He pointed his head towards the building behind him. "Retrieve our armour and backpacks from the dressing room. A bit further is a piece of power armour that Proctor Ingram would find interesting." He paused, his eyes darkening. "And Rhys, put down that robot in the reception area. That pile of metal has caused enough harm."

"With pleasure." Rhys grabbed his rifle, ready to go. Danse turned his attention to the third soldier who was still waiting for orders.

"Initiate, you shall cover me on our way back to the base. The others will catch up as soon as they are done clearing this compound of valuable assets." Quinn seemed to become heavier in his arms with every moment that passed, but this was his burden to carry. He got her into that and he was the one who would get her back to safety. It was his duty to ensure the safety of those under his command and he had to get at least something right. I can still make this right.

With a heavy heart and an even heavier burden, he headed back towards the base, Quinn's clammy face accusing him every step of the way.

Author's notes:

So, this has become rather heavy over the past few chapters and there's other rough topics coming up. I'm trying to still insert little bits of lighter material and jokes to keep it from being too glum. Is it getting too much? Should there be more light topics or is the balance good for now? If you have any thoughts on this, I'd love to hear your feedback.

And in any case, I'll just be happy that you're reading. Seriously, thank you so much for sticking with the story! This fic was pretty much started on a whim and I'm occasionally overwhelmed by the responses I've received (either as reviews or in private messages) and the visitor stats + follows. Makes me glad there's people who enjoy reading it as much as I enjoy writing :)