Supplicanti parce, Deus
The stench of decay was probably oppressive, but Annie had no way of noticing it. She had foregone her power armour, only to come across one just outside the building Deacon had led them to. She had asked to take someone else with her, and he had agreed the moment she had let on that she wanted Nick Valentine there. Apparently they knew each other. Valentine had agreed, but Annie was wondering if that wasn't more for Deacon's benefit than hers, and she couldn't blame him. Boy, had she fucked up.
'You're awfully quiet in there,' the synth said as they watched Deacon hack one of the many computers.
She made a gesture that encompassed the room they were in. 'These people were slaughtered. And I worked for them.'
'You didn't do this, Annie.' Nick sounded sympathetic. 'You need to keep it together.'
'How is he keeping it together? He knows these people by name, every time we come across a rotting corpse he tells me who they were and what they did. How can he stand it?'
Nick's gaze, resting on Deacon, was wistful. Annie would never have thought he was capable of that much expression before now. 'He can stand it because this needs to be done and because no-one else is going to.'
'What about Glory, though? She looks like she can handle it.'
'I want Glory to keep her innocence,' Deacon answered without looking at them. 'Don't get me wrong, she knows how to kill things just fine, but this would haunt her forever.' The computer gave a satisfying bleep and a door next to him opened. 'Glory, you see, is a much better person than I am and much more valuable.'
'Don't sell yourself short, Deacon,' Nick said gently.
Deacon met his eye in a wordless exchange. 'Anyway. We're nearly there. Let's move.'
'What are we looking for even?'
'A prototype.'
'For what?' She shrugged, which was futile, of course because such a small movement didn't really translate to the power armour. 'If you don't trust me, why take me here at all?'
'For starters, because you cannot possibly trace us from anything you find in here.' Deacon took a deep breath. 'There are two things I want. I want the prototype Carrington developed. It's kind of a stealth boy, but modified. And I also want a gun. Before you get smart, I want a specific gun.' A smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 'And to show you that, in fact, I do trust you as much as possible in the current situation, I'm going to give said gun to you. You're going to love it.'
