Chapter 11: Home Sweet Home, Never Trip Alone

Sunlight slanted in through the cabin wall, prying open Ilya's eyelids. The warmth on her face was invited, but the volume of light in her eyes throbbed right into her brain. Slowly, she lifted herself up on an elbow and peered around. Dogmeat was absent, and so was Danse. Probably on patrol or taking a piss. Both things could apply to either of them.

Pushing herself up fully, Ilya was reminded of the many cuts on her hands. She lifted them before her eyes to inspect the field dressings Danse had given her, and she remembered the feel of his hands on hers. Hands that were firm and calloused from years of use and experience, but so very gentle. That simple skin-on-skin contact had set her insides blooming, and when he had pulled her into him to comfort her, it was something she had never expected him to do. She recalled flirtatiously asking him once if he would hold her if she ever needed it, like he had with Haylen. Remembering the look on his face and how he had stumbled over his words made a grin sneak up on her.

Danse snuck up on her just then, appearing in the doorway in power armour with his rifle casually in hand. "Ah, good to see some rest has done you well," he greeted with a pleased smile. He looked a little tired himself, however, with darkness hazing around his eyes. Ilya quickly wondered how often he had come in to check on her while she slept. "How are you feeling?" he added after she returned his smile.

"Better. Thanks... for last night."

His smile stayed in place, but his face softened a notch, along with his voice. "I'm glad I could be of some help."

There was a slight silence, but Dogmeat quickly shattered it by barging in through Danse's legs and scampering over to Ilya with ears back and tail wiggling excitedly. She greeted him in her usual way, let him sniff her wounded hands, and then watched in surprise as he darted back over to Danse and sat right at his feet as if it was nothing new.

Danse made a grumbling sound. "I think there's something wrong with Dogmeat. He insists on following me everywhere I go. It's becoming quite irritating."

Ilya considered his almost child-like complaint, the complete look of seriousness on his face, and then the all-too-perfect picture of him standing there with a scowl as Dogmeat sat happily at his feet. She snorted out her laughter.

Danse took on a look of dismay. "Why are you laughing? This behaviour could mean he doesn't trust me with your safety. He's liable to turn aggressive at any moment."

"Danse," Ilya quieted him with her hand, still laughing softly. "It's not because he doesn't trust you. You saved his life out in the Rad Lands. I'm sorry to say that he's going to be eternally grateful."

The man's thick eyebrows ascended in the revelation, and slowly, he looked down at the canine, who was now looking back up at him with his tongue lolling out to one side. His tail gave a slight wiggle at the eye contact.

Ilya mashed her lips together to suppress further laughter. This was too perfect. Danse had always had reservations about Dogmeat tagging along on their adventures, but now he would be forced to deal with the canine on a more personal level. The two of them together like that was the most adorable thing she had seen since... since... Nate and Shaun had learned to laugh together...

She felt the sudden dip in her mood like a weight in her chest. Were Danse and Dogmeat subconsciously her replacements for her husband and son? Was she that messed up that she was finding excuses to cling to any resemblance of her past?

Danse must have noticed her change in demeanour. "Is everything alright?"

She caught her breath deeply and shoved off the drag on her mood, forcing a smile to reassure him. "Yeah." She worked herself out from under the rug, grabbing for her pack beside the mattress. "Aside from being starving. Have you eaten?"

Danse shrugged, still standing idly in the doorway. "A little, from what I grabbed at the police station."

"I have some InstaMash in here that I grabbed for both of us. The rest are gifts for the others. I forgot to hand them out before I left for the Prydwen. Blamco Mac and Cheese, for Deacon. A few packets of Bubblegum for Piper..." She dug deeper into her pack, shoving aside the boxes of ammunition. "Fancy Lads for Preston, Yum Yum Deviled Eggs for both Hancock and Cait, some Sugar Bombs for MacCready's sweet-tooth," she chuckled at that. "I got this hat for Codsworth, I think it would suit him." Holding up a bowler style hat for him to see, Danse only nodded and continued to watch as she dived back inside her pack. "Umm... let's see. Nick had been looking for a new tie ever since his was torn off by a raider one time when we walked into an ambush, so I found a pristine one in the Institute for him. Strong, I got him the biggest chunk of Brahmin meat I could find at Choice Chops." She stopped to toss a slab of raw Brahmin meat to Dogmeat, who pounced on it immediately and then trotted outside with it. "That's Dogmeats... And for Curie... I wasn't sure what to get her, but I found this dress on sale at that clothing store in Diamond City, and thought maybe she'd like it. I dunno," she scoffed at herself and looked to Danse for his opinion, then realised he looked a little out of his depth. Ilya cleared her throat, and held out a box of Dandy Boy Apples. "I, uh, got this for you."

He stared at it blankly for a moment. "How... how did you know that was my favourite pre-war food?"

Ilya grinned widely. "You kidding? It's the first thing you always go for whenever we stay on the Prydwen."

A slight flush crept up his cheeks, and he shrugged again in an attempt to own his embarrassment. "Well, they do say that an apple a day keeps the radiation poisoning away..."

"Exactly," she continued her grin and jiggled the box at him, "so, here you go, Dandy Boy."

He chuckled helplessly then, before stepping in to take the box from her, gesturing with it in gratitude. "Thank you."

"No problem." For a flash of a moment, Ilya pictured him on a billboard, shirtless with a fresh apple in hand, quoting about an apple a day.

"What's yours?"

"Hmm?" she looked back at him from her packet of InstaMash. He was trying to figure out how to open the box with his giant metal hands.

"Your favourite pre-war food."

She thought on that. Would he even know what chocolate was? She had barely seen much of it out in the Commonwealth, aside from a few bars that were so melted and shrivelled inside the wrappers that she hadn't dared to try them. "Does chocolate count?"

Danse gave her a knowing look and nodded. "I have heard of it. Never tried it, however. People seem to be fond of hoarding whatever they can find of it, and not too fond of sharing. Especially back in the Capital Wasteland." He seemed to be lost in a certain memory as he bit into his first caramelised apple, and Ilya could only wonder where he was.

After washing down some dry mashed potatoes with water, she stood and gestured to the mattress. "You should catch a few hours sleep. I'll take watch."

But he held his last apple between his teeth while he reached for his rifle from against the doorframe. "No need," he said after taking the apple in his free hand on the grip of the stock. "We're close to Sanctuary. I'll catch up on sleep once we're there." He had already turned and was stepping through the broken porch before she could make any protests.

During most of the hike back to Sanctuary, Dogmeat followed tightly on Danse's heels, occasionally darting off to investigate a scent, but always latching back onto his new pack member with unrelenting exuberance. Danse kept the grumblings to a minimum, but he did mention more than once that having Dogmeat so close to him was 'tactically inefficient' and was 'severely testing his temperance to no end.' Ilya knew it irked him to have to worry about trampling on the canine or if he got in the way during a firefight, but she also found the whole situation absolutely hilarious. She did, however, make it an objective to keep from further irritating the already-irritable man.

The trio returned to the homely settlement unscathed, and Ilya led her companions right into its centre, where most people gathered on a lazy day. She breathed in the calm atmosphere and sighed out tension she wasn't aware she was carrying, watching the farmers cultivate the land and the traders laugh with their customers. Over by the big tree in the roundabout were Nick, Piper, Curie, and Preston, hanging around the outdoor seats they had set up. Piper looked like she had them all enwrapped in a story she was telling with animated enthusiasm, and Preston was giggling along while the two synths just stood there listening with amused smiles. It was always so peaceful here. She was glad to be home.

The thunder of Danse's approach drew her attention. "I'm going to catch some shut-eye," he stated, eyes narrowed on something in the distance behind her before they settled back on her with sudden intensity. "If you need anything at all, you know where to find me." With that, he lumbered off to one of the old patched-up houses they used for a barracks. Dogmeat appeared torn by the separation of his pack, but ultimately decided to stay with Ilya.

Ilya wondered on the intensity in Danse's eyes, and the underlining of his words. He wanted her to come to him if she needed to talk, and by that he meant talk. The simple gesture caused a warmth to curl around her heart. Turning, she then understood his hasty retreat. Deacon and MacCready were watching her from the bench in the outdoor bar they had set up, a beer in their hands each. Once they saw they had caught her eye, they both approached with loose strides and welcoming smiles.

"We were just talking about you," Deacon opened the exchange before handing her a beer, a hint of sly intent beneath his sunglasses.

"Oh really?" Ilya replied with goading suspicion, cracking open the bottle.

"Yeah. MacCready here was giving me all the details on his dirty dreams of you while you were away."

"What?" MacCready snorted incredulously from behind him.

Deacon paid him no mind. "You should really hear it for yourself. Some of it is actually quite nasty."

"Bull," MacCready dismissed before turning to Ilya. "That's a load of bull, don't listen to him. I would never—I mean, not that you're not—argh! Damn you, Deacon."

Ilya shook her head and chuckled at their boyish antics. Deacon really loved to cause uncomfortable situations. "Home sweet home. I missed you guys."

"We missed you more," Deacon chanted. "So, spill, how did things go with the Brotherhood? You were away longer than we expected for just some negotiations."

"Yeah, about that..." Ilya trailed off. "Things with those raiders are bigger than we first thought. You think you could round the crew up later tonight, maybe after dinner, for a briefing of sorts? There's a lot to go over, and I want everyone's input on this."

"Sounds kinda serious," MacCready said with a worried frown. "We'll get Codsworth onto it. I'm sure he won't mind the hassle."

Ilya smiled thankfully before tugging at her pack. "I also got a few things for everyone. These are for you two. No occasion, just felt like it." She handed MacCready his Sugar Bombs, and Deacon his Blamco Mac and Cheese, gaining a wash of pleasure from their looks of joy. They both thanked her. MacCready tucked into his cereal box right then and there.

"Damn, it's been too long since I had these," he exclaimed with a mouthful. "Takes me back to when I was a kid. Now I know why it's so good to have friends. The perks."

"The Sugar Bomb Perk. Free, lifelong supply, for all your diabetes-seeking needs," Ilya played along, chuckling at him in-between a sip of beer.

"Hell yes, that's what I'm talking about!"

She swung her pack back over her shoulder. "Enjoy. I need to speak with Hancock. You guys know where he is?"

Deacon hummed in thought. "Last I saw, he was chain smoking with Cait and some of the settlers down by the river near the bridge."

"Thanks. I'll catch you later."

As she headed off in search of Hancock, Deacon called after her. "Oh, hey, your breakfast is still in your shack, just so you know..."

She waved back her acknowledgement, and bit her lip in guilt. He had made her breakfast that morning before she left for the Prydwen, and she had completely forgotten. Oops.

Sure enough, Ilya found Hancock sitting leisurely on some rocks, a feather of smoke drifting up from the cigarette between his gnarled fingers. Cait was beside him, along with some of the settlers who took on guard duties. She only noticed once coming nearer that they were all watching Strong in the distance, racing through the shallow waters after something out of sight, his sledgehammer held high in his wrath. At least he had found a way to entertain himself. She approached from their rear.

"Slacking off, I see."

They all turned in surprise, and both Hancock and Cait vocalised their greetings simultaneously.

"Hey, you," Hancock applied smoothly.

"Shite. Finally!" Cait was much louder, and more enthusiastic as she jumped up to meet Ilya at level height. "This place has been a snore while you were gone. Not even a feral come to play. What took ya so long?"

Ilya summoned her most charismatic smile. "Murder and mayhem. The usual. There's going to be a crew meeting later tonight. You'll get the details then."

"Good," Cait puffed restlessly. "I'm gettin' tired of sittin' around here with me thumb up me arse."

Hancock blew the last of his smoke and stubbed his cigarette on a rock, hauling himself up to join them. "This meeting business sounds heavy. Does this mean we're a go for getting those Ghouls outta the quarry?

"Things with the Brotherhood didn't go down well," Ilya supplied him, feeling her anger frothing beneath her surface. "So we have some decisions to make about moving forward from here. I want everyone's opinions."

"Well, whatever you decide, I'll have your back," Hancock assured with a glint to his black eyes. "Those raiders will wish we were a nightmare."

Cait shared his eagerness. "Yeah, same here. It's been too long since I picked a fight."

Ilya had hardly doubted either of them in this. In fact, she was almost certain that everyone would be willing to join the assault on the quarry. That was, if she could convince the Minutemen. Still, hearing it from them with such unwavering loyalty gave her the mettle she would need to push ahead.

"I never doubted it," she rewarded them with an authentic smile. She felt that her smiles were growing more and more forced with each passing day, and with each one that could muster itself without her dredging it out, came a tiny morsel of her former self.

Hancock was fishing out another cigarette from a pack. "Come on. Take a load off and join us. You look like you could use some R&R."

"Actually," Ilya uttered, "I wanted to talk with you, Hancock. Privately."

The flesh on his face lifted with intrigue. "Alright, then. Let's go somewhere secluded, shall we?" He made it sound more sinister than he needed to, which left Cait watching after them with an interested cast to her eyes.

Ilya led him into the backyard of one of the houses, where she stopped and leaned up against the back wall, kneading her hands together in her reluctance to start.

"You got something that needs doing?" Hancock started for her, eyeing her with dark curiosity. "Just give me the word and I'm all over it."

"No, nothing like that," she let him down easy, then stalled by scowling over at the grass.

The Ghoul gauged her thoughtfully, then changed tactics by moving to lean against the wall alongside her. "I gotta say, you're not looking too good, sister. A little pick-me-up could help with that."

That was the perfect entrance she needed. "You read my mind, I just didn't know how to ask without sounding like a scavver. Hit me up."

His skin stretched in a wicked grin. "Gotten a taste, have we, sister?"

"Me and Jet go deep. Full budding soulmates," Ilya jested, matching his grin. It was half-true, at least. Just not the full story.

"Glad to have you on the wild side."

Following Hancock to where he hid his stash, Ilya felt a phantom of regret brewing in her core. Each step she took was a war she fought with herself, but it was a losing war, she knew. Her mind was racing to rationalise her decision. She needed the Jet. She would be no good without it. If she wanted to help those Ghouls and cripple the Dark Bloods and their uprising in the Commonwealth, then she needed to be at the top of her game.

Hancock stopped behind another old house, where the hatch to the bunker was. "Folks don't come back here often, so I thought it would be the perfect place to keep my stash. Not that I'm ashamed, myself. But not everyone appreciates being out in the open for all eyes to see when I'm dealing out a few chems here and there."

"You supply some of the settlers here?" Ilya queried in surprise. The last thing they needed was their guards high and twitchy on duty.

Hancock took on a look of innocence. "Well, who am I to turn down someone seeking a trip or few?" He read her arched brow and was quick to extend. "Don't worry, I haven't turned the entire place, just a select few."

Ilya sighed and eased off. She wasn't looking to be a hypocrite. Hancock crouched and dug out a chem box from amongst the bushes, keying the lock and flipping the lid to present an assortment of goodies. "Ride of choice, sister?"

"Jet," she heard herself say without hesitation.

"The cult classic," Hancock commented with an approving nod. He handed her several inhalers. "Now remember to go easy on it, unless you wanna end up shootin' things that aren't there. Been there, done that. Wouldn't recommend it."

She grabbed the pouch where she kept her bottle caps. "How much?"

"For you? On the house. We're partners in crime. What's mine is yours. Besides, if it wasn't for you, Bobbi No-Nose might well have nabbed my entire supply. Then I wouldn't have anything to give you."

Ilya sighed, but this time in relieved appreciation. "Thanks, Hancock."

"What would you do without me?" He tossed her a wink, then held up his own Jet inhaler and grew a charming smile. "Never trip alone."

The world decelerated in that delicious familiarity, creating intervals of highs that promised to bring a faster pace to the bliss. Within an hour, Hancock's charisma had loosened Ilya's tension and soon after, utterly obliterated any remaining traces of self-loathing she had possessed. They sat together on the roof of the same house—Hancock had led her up a fallen tree log that served as a sturdy path.

"I'll never forget the first time you waltzed into my office as the Silver Shroud," Hancock reminisced loudly after they had finished their second hit of Jet. "Right then, I knew you were crazy, deep down. And I knew I wanted to hitch a ride with you." His leathery finger pointed right at her nose, and Ilya found herself focusing intently on its tip in fascination. "You feel me?" he finished with a wide delay, also focusing intently, but on her nose, for whatever reason.

"I feel you," Ilya agreed wholeheartedly.

His finger wavered around her nose, then he seemed to catch his balance and wagged his finger at her nose more intently. "You," he began, seeming to try to convince her of something. "You have a nose."

"You don't have a nose," she observed in kind.

"Really? Well, that's a fucker, ain't it," he returned, and Ilya couldn't tell if there was sarcasm in there or not, she was too fascinated by his finger.

"Damn," she breathed, eyes narrowing on his finger. "Hancock, your skin is so smooth."

He blinked in consideration, the skin around his eyes pulling down in a frown, and then he drew his finger back and brought it right up in front of his eyes to see for himself. After a moment, he said, "I think you're a little further gone than me, smoothskin."

Ilya just hummed and continued to stare.

"Say something for me, as the Shroud," he then incited, taking advantage.

"Fear not! For the Silver Shroud is out for... JUSTICE! And you," she leaned forward and pointed her own finger at him, right where his nose didn't exist, "Mayor Hancock, have been a bad Ghoul, getting the Shroud high on chems!" He chuckled at her accusation. "But! Justice shall have its rightful way! Fear the vengeance of the Silver Shroud!" She poked at his nasal cavity, and he sneezed on reflex.

"Home five minutes, and already high on chems..."

Both Ilya and Hancock caught their balance at the intruding voice of Deacon. They twisted in all directions, but couldn't locate him.

"Down here, geniuses."

So they both peered down through the broken panelling of the roof to find Deacon inside the house, leaning up against a wall with his arms crossed.

"I didn't even have to activate my sneak mode to find you two," Deacon commented dryly.

"Deacon! You slippery bastard," Hancock greeted in fond rowdiness. "Come up here and join the fun. We were just getting started."

"I'd love to, Hancock, but maybe another time. I would like to steal Ilya away from you, though. If that's cool?"

Hancock's throat produced a grumble that almost sounded feral. "Right now? Is it really that urgent?"

"Oh, it's that urgent. Matter of life and death, actually. Real serious business."

So Hancock allowed it, reluctantly. "Fine, then. Let's get you down from here," he said to Ilya, standing and preparing to help her amble across the roof.

But Ilya had a better idea. "I can just—" she grabbed a firm hold of the steel railing along the roof's structure and lowered herself beneath the panelling. Before Hancock or Deacon could stop her, she swung down and landed softly in the house. "—do that," she finished with a proud grin.

"Monkey," Hancock gibed from above.

"Someone needs to separate you kids before you end up hurting yourselves," Deacon chided playfully, but even through the cloud of bliss, Ilya could tell he was pissed at her.

She tried to ignore it. "What's up?"

But Deacon wasn't playing for long, opting for the stern route. "Other than your toxic blood levels? Ilya, the first thing you do when you get back is get yourself a hit from the shadiest guy here—excluding myself—and go at it for hours. I'm worried. So much for cleaning yourself up."

Ilya sighed loudly in exasperation, licking dry lips and dumping her hands on her hips as if they were a burden. "I've just got back from two days in hell, I think I earned myself some off-duty hours. I'm a grown woman, Deacon. I can look after myself."

"That's just it. You're a grown-ass woman, but you're acting like some wild-child raider, running around getting high and looking for anything to fight, up all through the nights either staring into space or pacing non-stop, mumbling under your breath with that knife in your hand. And yes, I've stalked you before, and I'm still doing it. You creep me the heck out sometimes."

"Deacon, I'm high, I'm not in the mood for this right now..." she moaned.

"Take a look at yourself," he went on, gesturing to her body, "you're wasting away. Sooner or later, someone's gonna jump you and you won't have the strength to fight them off."

"Come on, it's not that bad."

"It is that fucking—" he cut himself off, both hands going to his pompadour wig to press at his hairline. "Look, Ili," he started again, decreasing his tempo. He even used his nickname for her. He really was trying his damnedest to butter her up. "This is all coming from a place of care. Remember how we're friends? Yeah, that whole thing. Well, as a friend, I would really appreciate it if you could slow yourself down, and just, take it easy. How does that sound?"

He was right. Ilya knew it like she knew the back of her hand. But acknowledging that she had a problem would make it all that more real, and force her to deal with it. She didn't have time to deal with it, not now, while things were heating up out there.

She forced her eyes to needle right at his glasses and show him that she had her head on straight. "You don't need to worry, Deacon. I've got this under control. Trust me."

He inhaled deeply and crossed his arms. "Ilya..."

"Do you trust me?" she pressed.

"That's not fair."

Screw it. She smothered a grumble. "I'm going to take a bath." Her shoulder brushed past his on her way outside, where she stumbled right past Codsworth's hovering approach.

"Miss Ilya, how are—" There was a silence as she left him behind. Even Dogmeat was hesitant to follow.

A/N: The response on the previous chapter really was amazing, from the helpful feedback, to the kind compliments, and the funny comments, they all made me smile or laugh. So thanks, you guys are awesome!

-Had a little too much fun with this one. Wanted to lift the mood after the last chapter, and mess around with some of my other favourite companions. Just something light before things get dark again :P