In the following days, it became harder to keep a positive attitude. Most of the Brotherhood seemed to view her as an outsider and ignored her if she was lucky. If not, if the more aggressive Knights would see her, they would give her dirty looks or make rude comments. She didn't really understand why they treated her badly when she tried her hardest to stay out of the way. She devoted her time to her assigned work, which helped greatly to take her mind off things. Proctor Quinlan absolutely loved her summaries of the technical documents he would give her and his eyes were so hopeful she couldn't help but to take another stack of documents on her way out. It was never ending, and probably the most exciting part of being a scribe since Neriah had made it clear she didn't want Johanna within sight. She almost missed the police station, where the company had been less hostile.

She knew that Danse and Haylen noticed how unhappy she was. She never mentioned her treatment, but she thought they knew anyways. The two of them seemed to take to watching over her in turns. She rather wished they wouldn't have bothered because it made her feel like a burden, but Jo appreciated their effort too much to say anything. Everyone else kept their distance when either of the two were around and she noticed that the chatter died down if they entered a room.

Haylen's idea of a good time was usually studying or asking her a million questions, which was okay. Johanna thought that soon Haylen would know everything that she did, if they kept meeting for these study sessions. She had compiled a thick stack of notes on Vault 75 from their interviews and one equally as large concerning her questions on the subject of quantum physics. It was hardly her area of expertise, but Johanna recited everything she could remember from her textbooks and secretly enjoyed watching Haylen's excited eyes as she scribbled notes down. Apparently the Brotherhood library only held one, partially destroyed book on the subject. Jo was more than happy to share what she knew.

Danse preferred to spend his time with her in the training yard and shout encouragements to her as she failed spectacularly in pretty much everything. The shooting range was the easiest, since she had already had extensive weapons training, but she could only laugh and shake her head when the Paladin offered her a mini gun. She figured she'd be more likely to shoot Danse than the target and told him as much when he frowned and she remembered that he was her superior officer.

They would spend hours just walking around the outside areas of the base. Conditioning, Danse had called it. Johanna didn't understand why they spent so much time on this, she was a skilled runner. Her speed was probably the only thing that had saved her life in the vault, since she constantly had to dodge her aggressors in sparring matches. Secretly, she liked spending her time with Danse the most. They would explore the standing buildings at leisure to scavenge and he didn't ask about the vault or why she never socialized with the Brotherhood. She found that it was easy to forget about all the little, trivial things when you could be attacked at any moment. It was thrilling. She had realized one day what Danse had meant when he used the term conditioning. He was preparing her for battle. She was starting to become more excited than scared when she and Danse would come accross any mutations and it showed in her confidence with a gun. Of course, she still relied heavily on Danse, but Jo liked to think that she wasn't a hindrance anymore.

"You're getting better with your response times. Maybe you won't kill us both after all," he had teased.

It was hard to adjust to this new routine and it showed mostly in the dark cicles forming under her eyes. She saw this haggard look in everyone she had met Uptop. Perhaps it was the sheer lack of safety. It was difficult to rest properly when there was always the threat of death looming over your head. Sleep came more easily after the days she spent with Danse. She would always return from these sessions ready to collapse into her bed and usually she wouldn't wake until breakfast. Unfortunately, Danse had been sent away with the rest of his recon team, including Haylen, a few days ago and Johanna had been left behind. She understood when Danse had told her that she "wasn't ready", but it still bothered her. And now, she hadn't had a civil conversation with anyone in days and was becoming restless and quick to lash out at the group of Knights that had been harassing her. One in particular, a young man with bright red hair named Alan Murdoch, had been the most vocal about his disapproval.

He had approached her one night at dinner, pulling out the chair directly next to her and surprising her into spilling her drink. It was obvious with the way he sat that he was arrogant, but not so much as to forget to keep his wits. He reminded her of a young Arthur Maxson, maybe before the years of acting as Elder had changed him. Darker blue eyes held the same intense stare, but his face remained neutral.

"Scribe Polowski. Is that what I should call you?"

"My first name is Johanna, if you prefer," she replied uneasily, trying to gauge his intentions.

"You're very pretty, Johanna," he had said, shocking her. He nodded, unsmiling. "Really. It's too bad you won't be around for long, we could have made the prettiest babies. This world is going to eat you alive and you don't even know it yet."

"Oh. Well. Fuck you too, pal." She knew it wasn't the wittiest of comebacks, but her mind was still reeling from disbelief at his audacity. Seething, she stood and left the cafeteria without even clearing her plate and utensils. The past few weeks had been a learning experience, and she now knew several things for certain. There was absolutely nothing she could do to to get the Brotherhood soldiers to accept her as one of them. Proctor Quinlan had no work available that actually posed a challenge. Neriah would never let her become involved with her delicate experiments. If there was a place for her on the Prydwen it would be hard earned.

On top of everything, she was starving and losing weight fast, since she had deemed most of the food Uptop to be inedible. She had become so weak and tired that she was practically force fed by Danse learned of the reason behind it. There was pity in his eyes, but he assured her that she would adjust to it.

"Eat up, soldier," He would watch her pointedly until she raised the fork to her lips. He did this for almost every meal now. And despite his absence, Johanna still went through the motions of eating the strange food and trying to keep it down. Most of the time she failed.

Brahmin steaks. Mirelurk stew. Mole rat on a stick. Wild dog meat, which Johanna had flat out refused. One day she had tried bits of something called Yao Gui with noodles, for a "rare treat" the cook had said. Apparently the meat was difficult to find. It was all disgusting and her body rejected the foreign substances violently. She had been sick for days now from mole rat and she estimated she was at least ten pounds lighter than she had been upon leaving the vault.

She would have taken anti radiation medicines, but couldn't afford to buy them with the currency used in the Commonwealth when all she had were stacks of pre-war paper money that were no good to anyone. At any rate, Johanna wasn't sure that radiation was the only cause of her symptoms. In theory, she should develop a slight resistance soon after exposure and she waited eagerly for this to occur.

Johanna was becoming hard pressed to find comfort in her life Uptop lately.

It was becoming her new bedtime routine. To become so restless that sleep refused to come, though she would lay there for hours with her eyes closed while her mind refused to shut down. After three AM the Prydwen was deserted as everyone had long since returned to their bunks, other than a few on patrol. Maybe it was a lack of better options, but Johanna found this to be the perfect occasion for some rare alone time. Even her sleeping quarters were shared and it had been days since she had the opportunity for some breathing room. Growing impatient as she waited for sleep to come, Johanna decided it was useless. She kicked her thin blanket off and grabbed up her shoes. No one around her stirred as she set off for her new favorite haunt. Her feet carried her to outer decks of the ship, to a secluded area away from the docks. It had become familiar to her in recent days. It was nothing spectacular. Just a little area of the top deck that dead ended into her own private alcove.

With a deep sigh, she sat on the deck and let her legs dangle over the edge. The wind was harsh tonight and Johanna wished she would have thought to dress warmer. Already her skin was stating to tingle underneath her thin vault jumpsuit. She had been given a Brotherhood issued jumpsuit, one matching the bright orange of Haylen's. It remained in her trunk, mostly because the bright color made her eyes hurt. It was only slightly thicker than her vault suit anyways. For a brief moment she considered returning to her bed, but couldn't stand the idea of lying awake for any longer. She braced herself against the chill and let her eyes wander over the Commonwealth. From this height she could still see the tall monument with electric lights in the distance. Danse assured her that they would investigate it soon, but only when he thought she knew enough not to die. It had been hard to argue with that. So she watched longingly from the deck of the Prydwen and tried to imagine what the people would be like, if it was a settlement as she suspected. The Commonwealth had proved to be a dangerous place so it was likely they were well armed and skilled enough to defend their territory. Intelligent enough to create a lasting source of electricity, for the lights in the distance were always visible once the sun started to fade. Were there many people with different skills? Were they friendly? Were they even human? The unanswered questions burned her and she tightened her grip on the railing without meaning to. The rust dug into her soft palms and she relaxed almost at once. Johanna sighed and she hoped Danse would return soon.

The Prydwen was starting to feel like a prison and she wanted to escape, just for a little while.

Johanna heard the footsteps before she saw the figure approach. She had resisted the urge to bolt, but found herself wishing that she had ran, once she saw who approached. He hadn't seen her yet, Johanna was sure because Maxson's usually steely gaze was fixed on the ground. She noticed that he didn't wear his thick coat, only a plain white shirt and black pants. Most shockingly, his shoulders were slumped with fatigue. It was such a contrast to what Johanna had seen of the Elder that she suddenly felt as if she was witnessing something not meant for her eyes.

He finally saw her sitting on the deck, looking up at him in wonder. She dropped her eyes and felt her face heat up.

"Elder Maxson, I'm sorry. I was just..."

"Don't apologize, Polowski. It's unbecoming of a soldier." She fell silent at his laid back tone and brought her eyes up to meet his once more. He had corrected his posture immediately, and so perfectly that Johanna almost wondered if she hadn't been seeing things. How could Arthur Maxson be anything but the strong, proud leader in front of her now? His eyes told a different story. He couldn't hide the weariness in them, the dark circles, or the creases in his forehead. To look at him, you would think he carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked like a man in desperate need of a long rest. As if to add evidence to her thoughts he sat down on the deck next to Johanna, letting his legs dangle in the same fashion. Their shoulders were only a few inches away from each others and it made her slightly uncomfortable.

"I like to sit out here and relax some nights," she explained, hoping she had judged his mood correctly. She smiled and hoped Maxson wouldn't reprimand her for not addressing him by title.

"Understandable," he nodded, but otherwise remained still.

"When I can't sleep, I come here and just feel the wind. I've never felt it before recently, you know. " This piqued his attention.

"It must be something to behold," Maxson motioned with his hand in the direction of the Commonwealth, "after living your entire life underground. How are you adjusting?"

"The food sucks," she blurted out without thinking. To her complete shock, Maxson laughed heartily and looked on in amusement.

"That's it? That's your complaint?" Though embarrassed, Johanna nodded once admiring the sound of his laughter and the way some of the lines on his face disappeared when he laughed. He looked like a much younger man.

"I've never consumed irradiated food or water before. It's making me sick," she admitted. His features lost all traces of amusement and she realized that, once again, her social skills were lacking.

"You're not taking Rad-X with meals." It wasn't a question. She suddenly felt childish and squirmed slightly under his stare. He was much too close to her, too close to give her that intense gaze. As her breath started to come in shorter bursts, Johanna wondered if Maxson did it on purpose. He had to know how intimidating he was. Perhaps he enjoyed seeing the reactions he got.

"No, I used all that I had. I can't afford Cade's prices. For as much as I need them, I mean. I have no resistances at all."

He was quiet for a long moment and Johanna was acutely aware of the sound of her rapid breathing. She knew Maxson could hear it too because he let his gaze fall from her eyes and scanned Johanna with some emotion that could have been concern mixed in with a clinical detachment.

"You look unhealthy," he finally said. "I'm shocked that Paladin Danse would let your condition deteriorate to this extent. Polowski, you're to ask me directly if you should need anything. You're no good to me dead."

"It's not Danse's fault," Jo objected. Her tone was too sharp and she knew it. "He expressed his concerns. I was trying to build up a resistance against the radiation."

"That's a stupid idea," Maxson replied hotly, narrowing his eyes upon hers again. "Are you trying to die of radiation poisoning? Of all the things to get you in the wasteland, that's a pretty pathetic way to go. Probably how most vault dwellers die though, if that was your goal."

They stared at each other for a few long moments, but Jo conceded defeat. As much as he made her blood boil, Johanna could not forget that she was speaking to the current leader of the Brotherhood.

"Thank you for your offer, Elder," she muttered, feeling like a rebellious child.

"You'll report to my quarters before you return to yours. I have a few bottles of Rad-X. And I'll expect you to take the medication before every meal until Captain Cade says otherwise."

"Yes, sir. I understand, sir." Jo failed to keep the sarcasm out of her voice.

To her surprise, Maxson smiled and it was so genuine that her irritation completely disappeared. "I thought the vault wanted to keep you because you were compliant?" he asked with amusement.

"Well none of the administrators ever ordered me around either," she replied quietly. "I think it will take some time to get used to."

Maxson didn't respond, but that didn't bother Johanna. His expression was much softer when he observed her again. The silence they sat in was mostly comfortable, but she couldn't escape that tightness in her chest that seemed to spread to her belly. Other than that, she was strangely relaxed, more than she could remember feeling aboard the airship. It was much easier to meet his eyes now they didn't hold all the troubles of humanity, and she held his gaze with a small smile on her lips.

Johanna found herself wishing she knew what he was thinking. She wondered if he thought she was just as much of an outsider as everyone else seemed to. If he was just using her for some ulterior motive. It was possible, she decided, even with his show of concern. Maxson was used to wearing an expressionless mask that made her observation skills useless, he could easily blur the truth or even lie to her face. She would never know what was in store for her until he was ready for her to know. The thought didn't frighten her as much as she thought it would. She was unable to explain why, but Jo couldn't deny she felt some degree of trust in Maxson. She had no evidence that he was an honest man. Nothing that suggested he actually cared about her as a person, not just another soldier. She supposed that hearing Danse talk about him so much may have done its damage after all. It certainly hadn't been the originality of his speeches.

"Does anyone ever call you Arthur?" Jo asked, forgetting about protocol once more. It was obvious her question took him by surprise. She was sad to see the furrows return to his brow as he considered this.

"No one."

"Even your friends have to call you Elder?" She joked, then she saw the truth in his eyes. Arthur Maxson didn't have friends. He probably didn't have a single soul on the Prydwen that he could confide in, since he was the last surviving member of his family.

The silence between them was suddenly uncomfortable, as Johanna had grown to expect nearly every time she spoke. Learning adequate social skills had not been her priority in the vault and it showed in almost every conversation she held. But in the previous weeks she had grown impartial to embarrassment and she held his gaze without blinking.

"An Elder of the Brotherhood of Steel doesn't have much time for socializing. If any," Maxson said, finally. He looked genuinely disinterested in the subject.

"You have time now," She replied softly. Perhaps feeling a hint of awkwardness, Johanna finally pulled her eyes away from his and let them settle on his knees. "Is it improper for me to speak to you like this?"

"Yes," he said, without hesitation.

"I'm sorry-"

"No, don't apologize," he interrupted her. "It's... refreshing. To speak with someone as an equal. I've forgotten..."

His eyes grew cloudy and unfocused and Johanna knew that he was becoming lost in his own thoughts. She let him just be, and did the same for herself. They weren't commander and soldier for a short time, just two people brought together by circumstance, each with their own reasons for another sleepless night.