Whatever Arthur had planned for Nora, it took precedence over Johanna, and that suited her just fine.

It woud keep them both busy for a time, and for that, Jo was thankful. She couldnt bear to see either of them right now, not when the pain was so fresh and real. She had never felt grief before, never having lost anyone she cared about, and she was ill equipped to deal with the emotional responses.

She stood outside the door of Arthur's quarters for a few moments, poised to run and desperately trying to think of where she could disappear.

Her feet took her outside to the flight deck, it was as close as she would come to being alone.

The cold winds were bracing, but brought no relief from her racing thoughts.

It was done. Arthur had killed Danse. She would never see her mentor again.

Suddenly, the issue of his identity seemed quite meaningless.

Synth or not, she would grieve the man he had been.

And she might never forgive Arthur for being so heartless. No matter how much he claimed that his actions had been for the greater good, Jo didn't believe it for a minute. Danse was no threat to the Brotherhood. He had been the embodiment of what made the Brotherhood great. No amount of kisses would change her mind.

"What's up, Princess?"

"I asked you not to call me that!" She turned on Murdoch, tears threatening to spill over. He stood a few feet away, and Johanna inwardly cursed herself for not sensing his presence sooner.

"What's wrong?" he asked, taking in her forlorn appearance with a cautious gaze.

"Nothing. I just wanted to be alone," she hinted with a small glare.

"It's Danse, isn't it?" He asked quietly.

Far from controlling her emotions, Jo burst into tears and began to shake with uncontrollable sobs.

"Hey..." Murdoch seemed at a loss, not knowing what to do about her outburst. He stood there for a few moments as though debating on what course of action to take.

She found herself pressed against his warm chest, arms tightly holding her, stopping her from pushing him away. Her hands rested against his chest naturally, a precarious poition, but she wasn't about to throw her arms around him.

Tears ran down her cheeks, soaking the front of his jumpsuit, but he didn't relax his grip on her.

It felt strange to be comforted like this, she had no experience on receiving condolences, but she didn't fight it. Her energy was being spent mourning Danse.

"It's okay," he murmured, casually running his hands across her back as she continued to cry into his chest.

"He's dead," she whispered against the wet material of his shirt.

"It happens to the best of us," Murdoch offered grimly, attempting to reassure her.

She couldn't tell him the truth. That it had been murder. That Elder Maxson had killed Danse out of some misplaced sense of duty. Why Danse, the very picture of a Brotherhood soldier, had been declared a traitor to the faction he loved so well. He probably died without a fight, laying his life down for the good of the Brotherhood.

She couldn't tell Murdoch any of these things.

So she settled for burying her face into his chest, hiding her red eyes from him and the rest of the world. She allowed him to continue tracing circles on her back with his fingertips, focusing on the solidity of his body. It kept her grounded when she would have otherwise fell apart.

She couldn't think of a good enough reason to detangle herself from the young knight, not until one came and found her some time later.

"Is there a problem here?"

The familiar voice was like a shock to her system, maybe to Murdoch too, judging by how fast he pulled away from her.

Without the warmth of his body hiding her, Johanna was left out in the open with tears rolling down her cheeks as Arthur took inventory of the situation.

She stared at him through her watery eyes, as if she were seeing him for the first time. As a killer. A murderer.

"I'll take her to Cade," Arthur said quietly, glancing over to Murdoch. "You're dismissed, Knight."

"Sir."

Jo watched him walk away in silence, too quickly to be casual. He was in a hurry to get away from them.

She wished he hadn't gone, but what good came from wishing?

She was left alone with Maxson once more, though this time she would have rather been anywhere else on the ship.

"Johanna..." he began, his eyes flashing with concern. "I don't want you to think you can't come to me when you you need comfort."

She drew in a sharp breath at his words, the air passing through her teeth in a low hiss.

"You can't honestly think I'd want you to comfort me about his... murder."

Arthur froze at the word, staring her down with a cool gaze.

"You don't mean that."

She sneered at him, hardly aware of what she was doing.

"I do. I mean every word. I don't need anything from you, Arthur."

"I see," he said coldly. There was a flash of hurt in his eyes, but only for a moment. His expression became steely and indifferent, the mask of the Brotherhood's youngest leader. "Perhaps I should take you to Cade now."

"I just said-"

"It's not a request, scribe."

The sound of her title from his lips made her sense of self preservation appear. A faint flush rose to her cheeks from the words she had spoken to him in the heat of the moment. She was suprised to find that she actually meant them, even now. However, she had the good grace to look embarassed about it as he stood before her as Elder.

She didn't apologize though. She couldn't.

Maybe he was expecting her to, because he stood there for a few more moments as if waiting for her to say something.

The silence stretched on until Arthur cleared his throat and motioned for her to follow him.

Only fear of what might come out of her mouth next kept her quiet as Johanna followed Maxson back inside and into the med bay.

Maxson spoke to Cade in murmurs, though she thought she heard him say "Danse" and "overcome".

In no time at all she was seated on a bed, her arm straight out and ready for the injection, welcoming the sight of the syringe.

Maxson lingered while Cade readied her dose, watching her with steel in his eyes.

She didn't flinch when the needle pierced her flesh and in the next instant she felt a sense of peace that had everything to do with the mind altering drugs she was being given. Though tears had been steadily streaming down her face, she felt her eyes dry up quickly and her vision became more blurted.

Cade left to dispose of the used needle, but Maxson stayed, eyeing her with trepidation.

He needn't have worried, Johanna thought. She was much too affected by the medication to say what she really felt. She let the silence linger between them, thinking of the last time they had been in this position. She felt no desire to touch him this time. No overwhelming need to speak, to make things better between them.

He broke the silence for her, seeming to realize that she wasn't about to throw herself at him and beg forgiveness.

"One day you'll relalize that I did what I had to do," he told her quietly, though with a fierceness he usually reserved for speeches.

Johanna ignored him, instead leaning back on the bed to rest her head. It was spinning slightly with the strong dose of Calm-X working its way through her veins. Her eyes slipped closed for a few long moments and she was losing conciousness quickly, drained from her outburst of emotion.

"What would you have done?" He asked, brushing her cheek softly with his fingers.

"I wouldn't have murdered him," she whispered, putting words to her thoughts. It was harder to do than it usually was. Easier, was pushing his hand away from her face. The rejection she saw in his eyes was tangible.

"Before all else, we serve the Brotherhood of Steel. Something you would be wise to remember, scribe."

Like she could easily forget.