21. No Voices, No Crying

Mist had settled over Boston Airport, wrapping everything in its damp embrace. Danse strained his eyes, trying to see further than the mist allowed, feeling the gnawing feeling in his chest grow stronger.

It had been nearly two days. Rosa had not returned. She had not come back to the Brotherhood, hadn't returned to him. It hurt Danse more than he wanted to admit. Could she have run off, just taken Shaun and left forever? Would she do that? He squinted at the horizon, hoping to see her figure appear from the fog. Or did she get injured and couldn't return? Did she get captured by the Institute?

He felt a gentle touch on his elbow and turned around, eyebrows drawn together. "What?" Haylen took a step back, startled by his harsh tone. Danse relaxed his shoulders and sighed. "I apologise for being so abrupt. Is something amiss?"

"You didn't come for dinner." Haylen averted her glance, brow knitted in worry. "Again."

"How can I sit down for a meal when she might be trapped in the Institute, waiting for us to rescue her?" He ground his teeth, fingers curling into fists in his pockets as he turned to face the horizon again.

"Starving yourself helps nobody." Haylen stepped next to him, putting on that stern mask she usually used on Rhys when she felt he wasn't looking after himself enough. A small burst of warmth broke through Danse's frozen insides, making him feel less hopeless and alone. Haylen bumped her shoulder against his upper arm, leaving her head leaning on him for a brief moment. "I'm worried about her as well, but I don't see how staring at the fog would help her."

They fell silent for a while, looking at the Wasteland together and enjoying the small breeze that gave them respite from relentless summer heat. He pulled his handkerchief from the pocket to wipe his forehead, but stopped short as he realised he was holding the ink-covered cloth he had used to clean Rosa's face. Why did I even pocket that again?

Haylen had noticed it as well, as was evident by the quirk of her eyebrow. "I had been wondering about the blue splotches on your hand." She continued with a measured voice, her eyes narrowing at him. "Strangely enough, Fox had very similar colour on her face before she got zapped away."

Danse shoved the handkerchief back in his pocket. His cheeks felt like they were burning and he cursed in his head. Like a damn schoolboy. Get it under control, soldier!

As much as he would have preferred to cut that topic there and then, Haylen was determined to not leave it be. "How odd that you both should appear with similar marks at the same time and that you would refuse to talk about it. One could even think that you were breaking Code of Conduct, the way your face is flaring up."

That got Danse talking as he whipped around to face Haylen, his voice indignant. "If you're trying to insinuate that I would take advantage of-"

She cut him off, raising her hands in the air with palms stretched towards him. "By steel, no! I was joking about the Code of Conduct part. I was only trying to hint that I know you have feelings for her." She paused and the corners of her mouth inched upwards. "And by the way, I think it's great. It's obvious she cares for you as well. And if there's anyone who needs some genuine love and caring, you two definitely belong in that group. I'm happy for you."

He was stunned into silence once more. She knew? And she was fine with it, even encouraging him? Then again, relationships within the Brotherhood weren't unheard of, so why would a different set of rules apply to him? He might have to give up being her CO though, to make sure there was no conflict of interests.

If she comes back. I have done nothing to help her so far, I have to do more.

This was not like him. He had always been one to plan things, come up with a strategy to make sure things went as they should – that was why he had been promoted to Paladin that fast. And there he was, wandering around the Airport like a lost cat, wasting two days on nothing but despair. That was not how a Paladin of the Brotherhood should behave.

His heart contracted, sending a dull pang through her chest. Yes, how exactly was a Brotherhood Paladin supposed to behave in such a situation? As usually happened when Rosa was involved in something, Danse found his training to be insufficient, lacking the tools he would need to tackle the issue in the best way. She was unpredictable, fierce, passionate, scared and so alone. And there was nothing he could do, since the teleportation machine was not working anymore and nobody knew how else to access the Institute.

His legs moved him forward, launched him into random directions, made him through the fog to do something, help her somehow. The lump in his throat made talking difficult, but he pushed through it, shouting the first thing that popped in his head.

"Marco!"

Haylen, who had rushed after him, stopped dead in her tracks. "Marco?"

"It's a pre-war thing. With kids and pools and… She can explain it better." Danse shook his head and continued moving. As ridiculous as it felt, that single word made him feel closer to her, as if she was about to respond any moment. You won't find her. She is gone.

Danse pressed his teeth together, anger rising at the cruel voice in his head. No. I will not give up hope. She is coming back. She has to come back. He gathered his voice and shouted again. "Marco!"

More jogging, more shouts. "Marco!"

He careened around an abandoned building, eyes fixed on the horizon.

"MARCO!"

"Polo."

The response was so quiet that he thought he had imagined it. He shouted again, expecting to only hear the wind answering. But there it was.

"Polo!"

The voice was dry and cracking, but unmistakeably familiar. And it was close. He shouted again and again, his heart frantically thumping, Rosa's weak voice guiding him forward through the wreck of the house, making him rush past rubble and stumble upon the remains of furniture, strewn around the floors.

There she was. Crumpled on a scrap of carpet, arms wrapped around her head as she rocked back and forth, her voice reduced to a whisper as she said "Polo" once more. Danse fell to his knees next to her and pulled her into his embrace, tears of relief pooling in his eyes.

She's alive. She's here. Rosa is alive.

He kissed her temple, not caring about the dirt that had built up on her face and the blood that he was getting on his clothes from hugging her close.

Blood?

He pushed himself away from her to check the extent of her injuries. She didn't seem to be shot, but her knuckles were all but destroyed, greyish pieces of stone sticking out from torn flesh. A quick look at the walls and the furniture around them made his heart contract in a painful way. She had trashed the room, as much as it was possible to do in an already destroyed house. Smears of her blood were on the corner of the tilted armchair and in the middle of the broken mirror that had fallen to the floor, drops of blood trailing to where she was on the ground, pooling at her feet.

There was something worse than the blood though. He lifted her head to look her in the eyes, but she didn't look back. It was as if she had left her body behind while her mind explored better places. The eyes were dead, there was no spark of her personality of even of recognising him. Her head lolled back down as soon as he let go of her chin, her shoulders slumping against him.

"Is she alive?"

Haylen had arrived. She knelt next to them both, worry written in every line of her face. Danse wasn't quite sure what was happening around him, other than knowing that he was holding Rosa and that she hadn't abandoned them. She was there.

But where is Shaun?

She had lost her son. There couldn't be any other explanation to this. He was gone, leaving behind the broken mind of his mother, this shell of a person in his arms. Is there a way to come back from that? Can she move on from this, make a new life for herself?

He didn't know. The only thing he knew was that he would be there for her every step of the way, whatever she would decide to do. He had nearly lost her too many times. It couldn't happen again; he couldn't fail her.

As though through fog, the back of his mind registered Haylen moving around them, lifting Rosa's arm and examining her head and doing something with her neck. He felt as if he should understand what was going on, but it all felt unimportant and so far away. The only thing that made sense to him was that Rosa was there.

"She seems physically rather fine, save for her hands." So that's what Haylen had been doing. Of course. "I'm not sure she understands anything that is happening around her though. Danse, we have to get her back to the Prydwen. She needs to get to the infirmary."

"No." He stood, scooping Rosa in his arms. "She hates that place. If there's anything that will make sure she will not want to return, it's getting her strapped to an infirmary bed again."

"…what are you doing?" Haylen followed on his heels, barely keeping up with Danse's long strides as he headed towards the airport. "Danse, where are you taking her?"

"To the Prydwen. But not to the infirmary. There is an empty room in the Knights' area, I'll take her there. She needs some peace and quiet."

"You can't keep her secret from the others, you know. Everyone will hear immediately that she's back from the Institute." Something in Haylen's voice made him stop and turn to face her, eyebrows drawing together as his hold around Rosa tightened.

"I don't have to keep her return a secret. I'll just have to keep the others off her until she feels well enough to talk about what happened. I will not let them hound her for answers before she is ready for it." He looked down at her weak form, her eyes shut and her head leaning against his chest. She had been so strong, getting through everything and fighting for her son. It was his turn to be strong for her, to help her through the grief.

He didn't let go of her as they boarded the vertibird to get to Prydwen. He barely answered to the pilot besides "Just get us there.", leaving the conversational part to Haylen. The journey through the airship was like an obstacle course, causing him to dodge groups of people and bark orders to get them to move out of the way, never stopping for any explanations.

Until he found Maxson standing in his way.

Danse felt his adrenaline levels spike, mentally preparing himself for a confrontation. He didn't want to stand up against his Elder, but he was willing to take that step, if need be. Hell, there is little I wouldn't be willing to do, if it would give her just an ounce of peace back.

Maxson's mouth curled into an approving smile. "Knight Quinn has returned, I see. I assume you're on your way to the infirmary."

Danse gave a shake of his head, his arms tightening around her once more. "You know as well as I do that she wouldn't have a quiet moment there. I know you want answers, as well as everyone else on this damn ship, but for now she needs silence and time for recovery."

Danse's expression hardened as Maxson gave him a quizzical look, prompting him to explain himself.

"Do you see her son with her? No? Then you see why she needs time. I will let you know the moment she is ready to talk. But for now, allow me to do my duty as her CO and get her away from this crowd so she can mourn and heal in peace."

He pointed his head towards the crowd that had been steadily been growing on his heels as he made his way through the corridors, people ogling at Rosa's limp form and whispering among themselves. He let out a sigh of relief as Maxson gave a curt nod. The Elder stepped around him to order everyone to get back to their posts or leisure activities and give Knight Quinn some well-earned space.

The rest of the way was a blur. He didn't know when or where Haylen had lagged behind or whether she had even boarded the vertibird with them. He didn't know how he managed to steer his legs in the right direction, to the Knights' wing that was mostly empty as its inhabitants were either stationed all over the Wasteland or enjoying their post-dinner relaxation time.

Danse nudged the door to the empty room open with his elbow, careful not to let Rosa slip from his arms. His chest was on fire from holding her that close, burning from not knowing whether she was alright or whether she would ever be alright again. She had not uttered a single word after guiding him with the Polo-responses and that worried him. It wasn't often that Rosa was at a loss for words.

He lowered her gently to one of the vacant beds in the room and brushed his fingers across her forehead to check for fever. She was clammy and cold, despite the summery weather outside and the heavy heat aboard the airship.

"Rosa?" He kept his voice low and gentle, hoping to pull her out of wherever she had sunk to. "Rosa, can you hear me?"

Her eyelids fluttered open. Her eyes darted around the room before fixating on his face. A sigh escaped her lips and she pressed her eyes shut, tears finding their way out from between the lids. Danse pulled her back to his chest, as that was the only thing he could do to help her.

Or no, not the only thing. She had been dragging herself through the Wasteland in this relentless heat, she must have felt terrible. "Rosa, would it be okay if I helped you to the shower? We should clean the dirt and blood off you. It might make you feel better."

He tucked a stray strand of her wonderfully messy hair behind her ear, letting his fingers savour the sensation, his heart pounding at having her so close, leaning against him again. She came back.

Danse had almost forgotten what he had asked her by the time she gave a barely noticeable nod. What? Ah yes, the shower.

He left her on the bed for a short bit, promising to return as fast as he could. He picked up a clean change of clothes for her from her bunk, grabbed an extra set for himself and a few towels from his own room and hurried back to her.

Rosa had curled up on the bed, her eyes shut and fingers cramped around the crumpled blanket underneath her. Seeing her like that made the scratching feeling in his chest return, made him want to hold on to her and never let go, to stand between her and all the worries she had.

But the best he could do was a shower. So that would have to do.

This time, she slid her arms around his neck as he lifted her from the bed. He had already taken the towels and clothes to the bench in the bathroom, so all that was left to do was to get Rosa there and clean the grime off her face and body.

Danse held her upright against his chest while his other arm reached out to turn on the shower and test the temperature. Once he had made sure it was pleasantly warm, he wrapped both his arms around her shuddering form and moved them both under the stream of water. It didn't matter that he had forgotten about the clothes that were getting soaked and clinging to their skin. What mattered was that she reacted to the water and slid her arms around him as well, bringing herself closer to him and his heart that was thumping so hard that it threatened to drown out the noise of the water splattering on and around them.

They swayed under the stream, Rosa's fingers clinging to the wet folds of Danse's shirt and his fingers gently untangling her hair, smoothing it out and massaging her scalp to relax her. The faint smell of iron-heavy water mixed with blood and dirt, grounding Danse and allowing him to stay focused on the moment, even when his mind wanted to escape that reality and take them both to a time where this misery didn't exist.

"It will all be okay." He didn't believe the words himself, but he said them anyway. Perhaps they would offer her some comfort. Or perhaps his voice could act as an anchor, as hers had been when she had found him at Fort Strong. He kissed the top of her head, trying to relieve the dull ache that was taking over his entire being.

She still said nothing, but her shoulders were jutting out just a little bit less as the water washed away her tears, her neck feeling just a bit less tense under his fingers, her grip on his back relaxing into a gentle hold.

"Let me take a look at your hands." She didn't protest when he turned her around, letting her back lean against his chest so she wouldn't lose balance. Her battered hand looked so tiny in his palms that it sent another pang of pain through him. Taking care not to hurt her more than needed, he picked out the loose pieces of stone and rubbed his fingers over the dried patches of blood. A swirl of red mixed with the water around the drain as her knuckles started bleeding again, but Danse refused to look at that. He knew she was hurting, he didn't need another reminder of that.

Peeling the wet clothes off her was a challenge, but he was glad to see that at least she didn't have any major injuries. She had bruises and a generous layer of dirt, but no bullet wounds, no ghoul bites, not even any mole rat tooth marks. He planted a kiss on her shoulder, feeling lucky that he was even able to do that. She still didn't say anything, but she closed her hand around his, barely reaching the sides of his palm, and gave it a weak squeeze.

She looked better once they were both dry and sitting on the bed, having shed some of her despair with the filthy clothes that were left in a heap on the bathroom floor. Danse pulled her back into his embrace, as if he was frightened that she would disappear the moment he was not holding her.

"I'm so sorry." His voice was muffled, filtering through her hair that his face was hidden in. "If there is anything I can do, you only have to ask."

"There's nothing anyone can do." She sounded raspy, the words pressed out with effort. "He is gone."

Danse shut his eyes, willing them to pull back the tears that threatened to start pooling. This was no time for him to show weakness, as much as seeing her in this state hurt him. She was hurting more. She needed him to be strong.

Her fingers curled inwards, making her nails scrape his arm. "I saw the head of the Institute. He was there. He mocked me, offering me a synth child as a replacement for my son. How can anyone be this cruel? He must have no understanding of human emotions at all, if he thinks a child can ever be replaced."

His Adam's apple bobbed hard as he swallowed, feeling at a loss for words. The Institute had done a lot of horrid things, but this felt like a stab to the heart. After everything Rosa had been through, the Institute had to twist a knife in her injury, to kick a woman who was already down. This was low even for them.

"How did you get out of there?" This was hardly the most important issue, but he couldn't bring himself to discuss her son. Not when it made her eyes have that vacant stare again, made her look like a hollow shell of the wonderful person he knew.

"I…" Rosa winced and sunk her forehead against his chest. "I had to run for the teleporter, after I shot Father. I mean, the head of the Institute. He called himself Father. I think I might have killed him."

Danse felt a jolt going through him as he heard that confession. This small woman in his arms had singlehandedly found out how to access the Institute, been brave enough to go through a machine that could have ended up vaporising her, and on top of that, taken down the most dangerous man in the Commonwealth. She didn't even seem to appreciate how much she had done.

"That is not necessarily a bad thing. You left the Institute without a leader, Rosa." He realised how cold that sounded the moment the words had left his mouth. She is grieving for her son and broken down over killing someone and you are focusing on the benefits for the Brotherhood? You don't deserve her.

"I don't know where to go from here." She looked up at him, eyebrows scrunched up in worry. "This whole time I kept going for Shaun. I have nothing left."

Danse's throat contracted and he pulled her head back to his chest, fingers cradling the side of her face. "You have me. You will always have me."

She didn't respond, only wrapped her arms around his waist and sighed, new tears soaking the front of his shirt. There was nothing more to say.

Author's note:

I'm so glad to break this hiatus! I hope you can still remember what happened in this story previously and that you will return to reading now that I'm back. It's been a rough two months for me and I have no guarantees that my health won't fail me again, but I'm hoping that I won't need a break again.

While recovering, I found comfort in drawing and painting, so now I'm also posting my art. Head over to Tumblr and find PaladinGarrus to see what I've been up to.

Thank you so much for reading and for sticking with this story!