A little bit of overview for the readers who I hope don't get too cross with me. This is obviously a Fic derived from Fallout 4 (IF YOU HAVEN'T COMPLETED IT YET, SPOILERS ARE WITHIN, SO HALT!) I was dying to write some Sole Survivor/Danse romance. He's an amazing character with, what I felt, tons of layers of angst. But if you've ever gallivanted the Commonwealth, you'll find there isn't a lot of dialogue to work with, so some of his lines may be a tad out of character, bear with me.

On another note, this is my first piece I've written since I had my son two years ago, so the flow will seem a bit choppy and for that I apologize. This is also my first time experimenting with first person (which generally I'm really opposed to) for any errors, I again, apologize! With that being said, I hope you enjoy!

This story is M and is suggested for only those 16+

This story has adult themes throughout, I'll tag incoming bits with an M. Feel free to skim over it if you'd like!

THE GLOWING ONE

The night of Gideon's arrival, I couldn't sleep. I tossed and turned on my dingy mattress relentlessly. After an hour of staring at the ceiling, I stood up and wandered around our makeshift home. I looked into Danse's defense terminal, drank a Nuka Cola (which in hindsight was poor decision making) and played cards by myself. I always despised Solitaire. I watched my grandmother play as a child and though she taught me well, it was just so boring. I thought the same thing now as I did when I was ten. Who plays cards alone?

It wasn't long before I heard some rustling from the floor above us. Danse snoozed peacefully on his own mattress, pushed up next to mine.

I stared at him a moment, recollecting the conversation we had had before he drifted easily off to sleep. He had asked me why I loved him. I considered his question for a moment and smiled softly into my straw pillow. He tilted his head and placed a hand on the small of my back, his other hand propping up his head. I so enjoyed the talks we had when the light had drained out of the world and there was nothing but us and the darkness.

Finally, I answered him, "I don't know, I just do. You don't really decide to love people Danse, it just happens," I crooned, rolling slightly from my stomach to my side. He seemed to analyze my answer before replying.

"I'm still getting used to all these human emotions. I hope you're patient with me," his voice was gentle, hitting my face softly in the dark.

"Do you mean, love?" I had asked, pulling his hand up with my own to rest over my heart.

"Yes, like love," he said somberly. I dug my teeth into the corner of my lip, interlacing our fingers. "I don't really have much to compare it to. I loved the Brotherhood. I would do anything to protect it. I would do the same for you, too," he sounded like he was delving very deeply into this. I leaned forward and whispered softly into his lips.

"Stop worrying about all of that."

In retrospect, I should have let him speak his mind. If he was having doubts I wanted to know. But when he got his mind set to something, the man was relentless. I felt bad almost, for dismissing his concerns. I would bring it up again, if he didn't.

I stepped barefoot into the elevator, blindly mashing the button with sluggish hands. The machine whirred slowly to the top, groaned unhappily and opened its doors reluctantly. Eventually it was going to breakdown, I just hoped it wasn't with me in it.

I looked around the room, which was illuminated by a cooking fire. Greeted by the harsh notes of a harmonica, I tiptoed onto the cold cement, passing under columns of light running through a hole in the roof.

Gideon say sprawled before the cooking fire, harmonica in his hands. His back was to me, so he didn't notice my midnight intrusion. He played a sad, somber song. The notes long and sullen. I stood there a moment, admiring his skills. As the song came to an end, he sighed deeply and dropped his hands.

"That was nice," I said softly from my place in the shadows. I expected him to jump, the child in me wished he had. He spoke through a smile.

"Isn't it rude to spy on people?" He looked over his shoulder at me. I smiled gently and toed over to his side, sitting on an old wooden bench he had pulled up beside him.

"I do believe you spied on me first," I quipped playfully, wrapping my arms around my shoulders.

"Lies and blasphemy," he replied, a look of faux shock on his face. "I'd never do such a thing." I only rolled my eyes and warmed the palms of my hands over the fire. We sat together in silence, no light save for the flicker of his campfire.

"Where did you learn to play?" I asked, breaking our silence. He sighed inwardly into the bitter night air.

"Oh, me dad before he died." I found it odd how randomly his accent faded and appeared. It was nice to hear someone not monotone sometimes.

"Were you, close?"

"Very. He taught me everythin' I know. How to shoot, what's right 'n wrong. He even taught me how to talk to girls," he winked at me then, his grin revealing those pearly whites.

"Not a very good teacher then," I said, shaking my head.

"Speaking ill of the dead! That's not very nice," Gideon said, placing a hand over his chest and bowing his head. "Besides, you haven't seen me in action," he said waggling a brow. I snorted.

"Oh, well I bet that's quite a wonder to behold."

"Not as much as you are," he replied with all charm. I looked at him sideways, squinting my eyes.

"Very nice," I said, containing a chuckle.

"Women are... very simple creatures," he said as if he was speaking to a classroom. He stood up and paced back and forth. "They like three things," he said, placing his hands behind his back. "They like when you listen to 'em, ask questions, act interested," he said holding up a finger, "They like when you compliment them, not just their appearance" he said holding up a second, "And they like it when you show 'em who's boss," he said, holding up the third and final finger. He eyed me seriously and I let out a trill little laugh.

"I'm not too sure about most women, but it takes a little more than those three things to seduce me," I said shaking my head. "Your father must have been horrible with women." Gideon shook his head and sat down next to me once more.

"The man was a genius. So tell me about you and your family," he said, leaning back on his elbows.

I pursed my lips, "My family was... different," I sighed, picking up a splintered board and throwing it into the fire.

"Well tell me," he said with an expectant look.

"Well... my father was in the military. Hardly ever home. My parents weren't as close as married people should be. My mother was, well, she was a little unhinged. Schizophrenia, to be exact. When I was ten she left my sister and I. We never saw her again. My father had to pick up all the pieces. We stayed with my grandmother, sent clear across the country to live with her. I saw my dad a handful of times before he died. After that I was sent to boarding school," I explained, my voice soft, full of sadness. "I grew up, attended law school and the rest is history," I said flippantly.

"What about after all that?" he asked, letting his head roll to the side and rest on his shoulder.

"Oh, all rather boring," I said scrunching up my nose.

"You're the least boring person I know," he said with a tsking sound. I smiled a faded grin and shook my head.

"There isn't anymore. Not now," I said flipping my eyes to the ceiling. I looked down now and met his eyes. They flickered with the reflection of the fire, a soft smile on his lips. "What?"

"You," he said kicking a piece of wood with the heel of his boot.

"What about me?" I asked curiously.

"Somehow you manage to look beautiful no matter what ya' do. Even 'n the dark," he said gently, shaking his head and swallowing his smile. I swallowed a lump in my throat and offered him a sheepish smile.

"You're kidding us both. I'm battered to hell, and, I should probably do something with this hair," I said, pinching a strand between my thumb and forefinger.

"You women are always concerned with how you look," he said with a sigh.

"Hey, that's not true," I snapped, tossing a glare at him.

"It is so. Your hair, your makeup, your clothes. Can't a man compliment you and you just accept it?" he said incredulously.

"Fuck you, I don't even wear makeup," I argued, pushing my brows together and rubbing my eye with my knuckles.

"Fuck me? Well if you insist. It's been a while though, so you'd better be gentle with me," he replied with faux nervousness.

"You're deplorable," I said with playful disgust.

"You're adorable."

"Stop that," I said exasperated. I could feel the hot red rush into my cheeks.

"Oh, she blushes," he said excitedly, "I knew you liked it," he added smugly.

"I hate it," I said quickly.

"Liar," he said just as quickly, meeting my eyes and pressing his lips together trying to contain a grin. I picked up his pillow and threw it at him. It his the side of his face and bounced into the darkness. "That wasn't very nice," he said with a frown. He sat there silently, looking down at the ground, hanging his head. Before I knew it he had jumped up and grabbed the pillow, throwing it back. It gently hit me square in the nose.

"Hey, you can't hit a girl," I said, picking it up and cocking my arm behind my head. Before I could throw it, he had grabbed my wrist. I tried to yank it away but was met with surprising strength. He was a lot stronger than he initially looked. I stood up and yanked harder, pushing with my other hand against his chest, "You are really asking for a ripe pillow beating," I laughed. He didn't let go, containing me with so much ease it was making me angry. I tried to out maneuver him but he quickly brought me into a bear hug, squeezing me against him in an impenetrable prison. I gasped, "Jesus I can't breathe," I said wiggling. As a last ditch effort, I made my entire body go limp. Much like a tantrum-throwing two-year-old.

"Uh oh," he said and we toppled forward. As we hit the ground, I quickly pulled my wrist loose, arching my hand again for a pillow head-shot. But he moved faster, pinning my hands back above my head. I growled, kicking like the two-year-old again. I noticed he was staring down at me, his eyes seemed full. They softened, waned with the brief flicker of firelight. Slowly, he kissed me. Not hard, nor insatiable, but soft. Like the way you kiss someone when they're asleep. He leaned back, smiling like he'd just won the lottery. I couldn't imagine the look on my face was anything other than shock. My eyebrows raised, mouth slightly agape. "I told you," he said confidently, "Listen, compliment, show 'em who's boss," he chuckled. I shoved him off of me and scrambled to my feet.

"That was extremely uncalled for," I said angrily.

"I was jokin'!" he said, putting up his hands in defense and laughing.

"You don't go around kissing people willy nilly just to prove a point!" I replied, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

"Well, ya' didn't seem to object too much," he said, still laughing. I picked up the pillow and hit him hard in the torso.

"I don't find anything about this funny," I said, hitting him again. He kept laughing, so I kept hitting him until I felt I better.

"Better?" he said with a repulsive little grin. I hit him one more time for good measure. He grabbed the pillow and reeled me in, despite my struggling. "You tell me that pin-straight Brotherhood boy kisses ya' better," he said finally prying the pillow from my hands and dropping it.

"He's... he's a phenomenal kisser," I rebutted, crossing my arms defiantly. He laughed again, crossing his arms to mock me.

"His kissing is wonderful sir, as protocol requires." Using a mockingly robotic, accent-free voice. I shoved him but he didn't even sway.

"It's none of your concern anyway." My voice seemed ridiculously defensive and he was having field day with it.

"I think all girls should be kissed the way they want to be kissed. It's my personal goal to see that happens," he said, "Especially the pretty ones," he added.

"You are infuriating, you know that?" I said, turning around to sit down by the fire once more. He followed me. "You can't just- just kiss people without asking them! It's rude and I will not stand for it," I ranted. As I sat down, he knelt in front of me. I recoiled my head, squinting my eyes at him. "What?"

"I am sorry, for you kissing you without clearance first ma'am," he said and I nearly punched him in the mouth. He laughed lightly, "No, no, I really am," he said looking at me with those rich pools of hazel. "But some people need ta' be kissed," he said gently, shrugging his shoulders. "I wanted to know what it felt like," he said simply. "Not as nice as I imagined it though."

"Oh, what- hey you- you asshole. I'm just fine at kissing. I was kissing before you were even born. I was kissing before your mother was born, I-".

Gideon kissed me again, this time a hand behind my head, grabbing a handful of my hair. His lips touched mine and parted them gently. This time it was the way you would kiss someone if you were saying goodbye. Like you were never going to see them again. His other hand was on the side of my face, he paused for a breath and went back again. Everything inside of me was screaming in unison. Wake up stupid. I put both my hands on his chest to break free of whatever trance I was under. But I felt like hot wax, dripping away into a messy, little puddle. Finally, he let me go, coming up with a toothy grin. My chest fell and rose and I stared back at him for a moment, trying to orientate the room and get my bearings. I swallowed hard.

"That time I did it to shut ya' up," he said. "Looks like you enjoyed it though," he added, running a hand through his thick russet hair. I blinked, running my fingers over my lips. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing came up. He stood up and resumed his seat next to me on the ground. "You are a good kisser," he breathed, laying his head back on the bench.

"I should go to bed," I finally replied. I stood up, walked to the shadows and glanced back to him. "Goodnight," and with that I stepped into the elevator and left.

"Sweet dreams," he said.

The following morning was awful. My mouth felt dry and my throat ached. When I opened my eyes to the sullied light, I found the mattress beside me empty. I placed a hand on the empty spot and sighed. I could hear Danse a room over, moving around. I laid there, closed my eyes and went over the night in my head. I was hoping I had just had an elaborate dream. But the tightness in my chest reminded me it was all too real. I gripped the front of my t-shirt with one hand and squeezed it. I acted like a complete fool. I should have never let any of that happen with Gideon. I tried to make excuses. I was tired, he was too strong, I let my guard down. But in the end I knew I let him because I was curious and well, curiosity killed the cat, after all.

I mentally kicked myself, repeatedly. I imagined how I would broach the subject with Danse. "So, hey, I made out with Gideon, it's all cool though. I was just curious. We're good though, right?" I groaned into my pillow.

"You overslept."

I recoiled so hard I nearly punched myself in the face. I cracked open one eye to see Danse looming above me. He was in his white t-shirt, his ever-present dog-tags tucked inside them. He sported jeans today, which I found really odd and a bit unsettling. He looked like he had shaved. I held up a hand and spoke with a cracked voice.

"Where is Danse and what have you done with him?" I said still looking at him through one hand.

"What do you mean?" he said with a confused look.

"Never mind. I'm just going to die right here, okay? Cool, bye." I pulled the blanket over my head and hid away like a little bed hermit. He pulled the cover away.

"Where did you go last night?" I felt a sudden surge of panic.

"Oh," I said slowly. I hoped he didn't notice my reaction. My eyes widened and I rubbed them groggily. "Just, heard a noise," my voice cracked. I stretched and sat up.

"Oh. I didn't hear anything," he said, still staring at me.

"It was nothing," I sighed. He nodded slowly.

"Good," he replied. "Now come on, get up. I thought we could go scout the perimeter today," he said, reaching down and pulling me up. I stood before him and gazed up at his eyes. He kissed my forehead gently. "If your leg is up for it," he added.

"Oh, it's much better," I yawned, still rubbing the sleep from my eyes.

"Good," he said, putting a hand under my chin and brought my lips up to meet his. His hands snaked down to my waist and he kissed me gently and then walked away. I bit my lower lip, trying to push last night out of my mind. It was going to be very hard not to think about it whenever Danse kissed me. I mean, come on. I groaned and fought the temptation of crawling back into bed.

Danse spoke to me from across the room, "Your friend is still here, unfortunately," he sighed as he tossed me my pack. "How long will he be here? You know he started a fire inside?"

"I know, I know," I said waving a hand at him dismissing him. "I'll speak to him," I breathed. I grabbed a bottle of water and downed it all at once.

"Sooner than later," he said eyeing me with a raised brow as he put on his uniform. I rolled my eyes, turning my back to him and pulling on my own uniform. I was already in a bad mood, I hoped Danse didn't plan on bitching about Gideon all day. I might just commit suicide.

We gathered all the necessary gear; ammo, water, stimpacks and extra weapons. I made Danse promise me he wouldn't wear his power armor. It was an exhausting conversation which ended in both of us fuming. In the end, he let me win, but begrudgingly.

We boarded into the elevator and he punched the button, still unhappy with me. I prayed Gideon was either asleep or out. I didn't need the headache of the two interacting. It was like cats and dogs.

We dinged to the top floor and I stepped out first, shouldering past Danse. Thankfully not an Irishman in sight. I breathed a relieved sigh and led the way to the entrance. Danse followed me quietly, probably crying tears of blood having to walk past his armor. The sun was in the middle of the sky, hot and dry as usual. I put a hand up, blocking it from view. I glanced back at Danse.

"Where should we start?" I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. He looked around a moment and came to stand next to me. He pointed straight ahead of us. He took point and I trudged behind him, thankful my leg felt almost normal. He had helped me bandage it before we left and it seemed pink and healthy. He remarked on how quickly it was healing. I guess I was still healthy as a horse, despite being exposed to so much sickness and radiation.

I breathed in the air, looking around at the wasteland surrounding us. There wasn't a soul around, which seemed odd. Usually there was a dog, a radstag, raiders, something. But it was remarkably quiet. Danse must have noticed to and stopped in his tracks, scratching the side of his face.

"Something seems off," he said slowly, looking over his shoulder at me. I imagined he was aching to be wearing his power armor right about now. "I think someone has been through here," he added, kneeling down and looking at a recent track in the dirt. I knelt beside him and looked at it. I couldn't really tell if it was fresh, but he seemed to know what he was doing. "Safety's off," he said to me, giving me a very serious look.

"I found lunch," said a familiar voice from behind us. I felt my eyes roll to the center of my head and back again. Please, for the love of everything good.

Danse and I looked up to see Gideon, holding his shotgun, at his side, the barrel popped open. He was grinning that toothy grin of his. I wanted to throw up and die.

Danse sighed a very audible sigh and stood to his feet. I slowly stood next to him and stared at Gideon. The visual tennis match began as my eyes darted back and forth. "You're going to meet the unfriendly end of a gun if you keep skulking around like that," Danse said with annoyance.

"Don't be too sore about it Cap'n, I wont scare you anymore, I promise," Gideon goaded. Danse's eyes frosted over and I put a hand on his shoulder. I had to diffuse the situation, quick.

"We were just scouting the perimeter," I started, "And sneaking up on people isn't the smartest thing to do," I finished, pushing my brows together then raising them.

"I thought you heard me, my apologies. Guess I'm a bit more stealthy than I thought," Gideon replied, rubbing the back of his neck. I slowly nodded, my eyes glancing back to Danse who I could only imagine was mentally decapitating our visitor. "Anyway, I guess I'll join you. One more set of eyes couldn't hurt," he said, whipping his gun up and clinking the barrel shut.

"That's alright," I began, but Danse inserted himself without hesitation.

"Don't you have someone else to annoy?" I groaned inwardly.

"Don't be silly Danse, I always have time for you," Gideon winked, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder.

"Perhaps I'll escort you back," Danse said, I swore I saw hackles protruding from the back of his neck.

"Oh a piggyback ride, I love those," Gideon's wit was as sharp as his kissing. I clenched my eyes shut and pushed the heels of my hands to my temples.

"I was thinking a body-bag," Danse quipped, I watched the grip on his gun tighten.

"For you or me?" Gideon maintained his confident grin even as Danse started moving in his direction.

"Okay, okay, children," I shouted, placing myself between them, though I probably wouldn't stop them from eating each other alive. I was a good foot shorter than both of them, at least. "Can I get a rain-check on this bullshit, please?" I said angrily. Danse turned away, inspecting whatever happened to be near him. Gideon chuckled and smiled with his eyes.

"Your boyfriend is a little to tightly wound," he whispered, widening his eyes a flicking a brow at me. I sighed and ran my hand over my face. I stepped towards him and pulled him aside.

"Look, I know you want to help, but it's probably not the best idea." My voice was hushed, nervous.

"Why, is this about last night?" he said a little more loudly than I appreciated. I gave him a glare that said I will destroy you and all you love.

"This isn't about anything. You can't go three seconds without goading him," I said through my teeth.

"I'll behave, I promise," he said, giving me a mock frown. I growled and glanced back at Danse, who was now a few feet away, scanning the horizon.

"Fine," I said in a deflated voice. He happily started after Danse and I followed, quickly cutting him off so there was space between the two of them. I cleared my throat, "Danse, if you don't mind, Gideon will be accompanying us," I said with a fake smile. "Of course unless you'd rather he stay at the bunker alone," I added giving him an expectant look. He eyed the leather-clad man and sighed deeply.

"Very well," was all he could muster out and took off again. I was right on his heels. I didn't want him to say anything that would start another pissing match. We couldn't get anything done when they both decided to act like children. Danse had good reason to dislike Gideon, even though he wasn't aware. His reasoning was based on my own mistake of bringing him back. That and Danse just disliked people as a general rule. Especially the ones who talked too much. I could tell you that through personal experience. My own struggles with him were many and it took me a long time to even gain his trust. I think I really was the only exception when it came to people with Danse. And I considered myself beyond lucky to have broken down those walls he had so perseveringly constructed. Gideon had a zero percentile chance of even drilling a hole though that wall- not that he even wanted to. It was an inevitable feud that would exist until both of them ended up corpses. While I would like to say the cause of all this was me, I knew it was just in their nature, woman present or not. Of course my presence wasn't making things easier.

We continued on, making a half circle around the perimeter before coming to a stop in front of a broken down shack. It wasn't much to look at, overgrown with weeds and saw-grass. A lonely water pump stood just outside its door, rusted beyond repair. The front door, half missing, swayed back and forth in the wind, clattering, opening, clattering shut and opening once more. It seemed mostly uninhabited from our viewpoint, but Danse, forever cautious wanted to inspect it on his own.

He started forward, gun raised in his hands. We watched his approach the shack with carefully honed skills. From our position behind him, Gideon and I baked in the hot midday sun. Gideon wiped his wrist across his forehead and heaved a deep sigh.

"I bet you woke up thinkin' about that kiss," he said as if he were just talking about the whether. I made a disgusted noise under my breath.

"Hardly," I lied, adjusting the weapon in my hands. He only laughed at me, deciding not to push the subject any further. I welcomed the silence. I could only handle so much of him before I wanted to shove a rust screwdriver into my ear.

Suddenly, the unmistakable sound of a feral ghoul pierced the air like a siren. I looked up to see one running at Danse, head down, arms open like an angry football player. Danse sidestepped and unloaded a few rounds into it, turning the monster into dust. Three others stood up from the tall grass, like prairie dogs. Two headed towards Danse, charging at full speed. A withered ghoul, pale and thin from the sun and hunger made a beeline towards Gideon and I. I took aim and pierced it's upper torso twice, but it didn't even stagger. Gideon let a slug round out, hitting its left arm and completely obliterating it into a fine, red mist. It continued to charge without faltering. He fired his second round, hitting the other arm at the elbow and leaving it hanging by a single tendon. It swung madly at its side like a hangnail. I took a few steps back and fired again, each round reaching the target with practiced accuracy. The withered zombie was relentless, closing the gap with intrepid determination. Gideon quickly reloaded but not quickly enough. The ghoul screeched with fervor and lowered its head like a linebacker. Gideon sidestepped and the monster passed him, stumbling and rolling forward into the swatch of dust and grass behind us. It rolled around for a moment, armless and pitiful. I loaded the rest of my magazine into it until it was motionless. I despised those things.

I heard Danse's voice, hot and angry on a gust of wind. He was firing madly into the shack. He backed up, quickly. I could see the dull radioactive radiance from a Glowing One. My heart skipped a beat and without equivocation, charged forward. The grass, waist high was difficult to maneuver through. I felt a tendril of guilt for making Danse leave his armor behind. In a messy panic I rushed up behind him, feeling the sharp paper-cuts from the saw-grass on my hands and wrists. Before I could react I felt arms around my waist as Gideon hoisted me up and flung me over his shoulder. My rifle clattered to the ground, disappearing in a tangle of grass and weeds. I shouted, kicked and screamed at him. I could hear him fire two rounds at the ghoul, the splinter of slug on skin splattering behind me. I tried to crane myself around, elbowing him in the process.

"Settle down," he yelled at me, adjusting me on his shoulder.

"Put me down NOW," I bellowed, fighting him with every ounce of strength I had. Finally he relinquished me and I thudded to the dirt on my stomach. The wind was pushed from my chest in a violent burst of air. I groaned, my hands clutched my stomach for a moment but I couldn't waste any time, Danse needed my help. I rolled to my back and attempted to scrambled to my feet.

"Delta!" Danse shouted loudly over the wail of the ghoul and screeching of ruthless wind. I caught a glimpse of his face, through the tops of the grass, panicked and fearful. Like something I had never seen before. His eyes were wild and alight with terror. Suddenly, he was blocked from my view by the glow of the ghoul, who was three, maybe four feet in front of me. It dug its heels into the loose dirt, took its mark and charged me with untamed fortitude. My hands gripped the dirt, my heart thudding in my ears. It all seemed to move so slowly, like I was watching a movie. I tried to stand, tried to back away, but the monster was much faster. Its left arm connected with my chest like a metal beam. I could hear the sickening crack of its withered bone snap against me. The force of its hit was so devastating, I hit the dirt again like a bag of wet cement. I wheezed, sounding much like the wind, as every ounce of air was purged from me. My chest shrieked in pain, fiery and excruciating. My hands found their way to my chest, clutching it with shaky fists. I clenched my eyes closed, gasping for air.

Somewhere, hazily in the distance I could hear Danse's voice. I tried to speak, to protest, but all I could manage was a pathetic whimper. I felt a hotness in my leg- my wound surely bleeding profusely now. The pain in my chest was intense, but it had spread to the back of my head. A sticky wetness was dribbling down my neck, pooling at the collar of my uniform. My eyes sputtered and rolled backwards, but I begged them to open. The sky reeled above me, wisp's of blue and white fading from view.

The last thing I remembered was the sound of the ghoul screeching behind me. The splatter of something wet over my face and blackness.

I don't know how long the darkness had claimed me. But I could feel the pain though my body like water was boiling in my veins. My head thudded like a steady drum beat. With every heave of my chest came tendrils of pain tantamount to a thousand tiny daggers. My leg pulsed and with every beat I could feel my wound breathe and sputter forth blood. All I could think was I was dying. That I was dying in the dirt, in a field where no one would find me. I would be meat for the scavengers. Picked clean and recycled like nothing. I thought back to the last few days and felt the sting of hot tears.

I knew death was inevitable, I just didn't know it would be like this. I'd taken on my fair share of ghouls and came out alive on every count. I imagined my death being... dignified. In the heat of a great battle, or slipping slowly into death's arms surrounded by those I loved.

Suddenly, I could hear the whisper of distant voices. I prayed my eyes to open, still on that coppery cusp of unconsciousness, they refused. It was like sleep paralysis, I could feel everything happening, but could do little to stop it. The sound of fabric ripping echoed through my head. My chest screamed, heaved and protested at whatever touched me. The ghouls were eating me. I could feel their nub-like teeth gnawing on the back of my head. I screamed inwardly, tears running down my face. Finally, my body awoke, my eyes sprung open and I sat up, my arms flailing in front of me.

"Get off of me!" I screamed, despite the pounding in my head. "Get off!" I felt a pair of hands on my shoulders, pinning me back down. I screamed at them, my vision still blurry. There were only shadows and colors, nothing more. I fet my body shudder, as if it were giving up once more. I screamed so hard my lungs ached.

"Fox!" my eyes rolled forward, my hands clenching. I thought I could hear Nate calling me. I really was dying. I was passing over to the other side. This as it. "Fox!" I murmured his name and let myself just die. Just die and be done with it. I could feel the sticky hot salt of my tears run down my cheeks and pool at the dimples of my collarbone.

"It's finally over," I whispered into my blackness, which now felt cold and empty. I was fading and quickly. I welcomed it now, letting myself fade away into nothingness. But before I could let it, a sharp pain traveled up me from my thigh. I just wanted it to be over already.

The pain was followed by the a cool, rejuvenating rush of energy. I gasped, clutching at my chest. My eyes rolled forward once more, sore and tired. My lids, heavily lifted and I was greeted with blue and white. I blinked away my tears, staring out at the broad blue sky. A flock of birds wheeled overhead, black dots against the horizon. I slowly say up and clutched my head in my hands. I groaned into them. What was happening?

"Oh thank god," I recognized the voice. I dragged my tired eyes up to Gideon. His face was smeared with blood and dirt, a nasty gash on his brow. He reached down and made sure I wouldn't attempt standing. My eyes shifted lazily forward and found Danse on his knees, heaving heavily. Without a word, he reached forward and placed his hand on the back of my neck. He leaned his forehead against mine and let out a noisy breath.

"I thought I lost you," he said with enough emotion to make me widen my eyes. I blinked lazily.

"Not getting off," I started to speak but my chest ached so badly I actually gasped, "That easily," I squeaked. A ghost of a smile was on his face and he moved a strand of sticky hair from my mouth. He backed up then, standing to his feet. I could tell by his movements that he was angry. But I did very little to stop him. I couldn't feel my hands, as they clenched and unclenched fistfuls of dirt.

I saw him, from the corner of my eye punch Gideon squarely in the jaw. I opened my mouth, tasted the bitterness of blood and tears and let my body thud back to the ground. I laid there and listened to them scuffle a few moments. I closed my eyes and only listened, unwilling and unable to intervene.

"You son-of-a-bitch, she nearly died because of you," Danse shouted. I nodded slowly, I did almost die. I was pretty sure of that.

"Me? It's your fault for even dragging her out here in the first place!" Gideon replied hotly. I scowled.

"Trust me, she would have come regardless of my permission or not," Danse spat back. I nodded again.

"You think you can make her live out here and protect her from all of this?" I laid motionless in the dirt. "She deserves better than that!"

"And you think you could do better?"

"I wouldn't let her waste away in a bunker miles from everything, that's for damn sure. Ya' wont always be there to protect her, you've made that abundantly clear."

"What do you suggest then? Take a look around pal, this is as good as it gets."

"You can keep lying to yourself but there is safety in numbers and all it takes is you taking your head out of your own arse to realize that!" Danse was silent. I felt bad for him. None of this was his fault. It wasn't anyone's. Things happened. That was the reality of the Commonwealth. "She isn't from here and you and I both know she would be safer in the city."

I finally sat up again. They both swiveled their heads to look at me. "Though you both raise good points, don't you think it's up to me to decide where I will stay?" I said between breaths. "I'm not a child," I said softly, holding the back of my head with one hand. It was slick with blood.

No one said a word after that. We had a long walk back and I was wounded. We trudged on in silence, both men taking turns in assisting me. I couldn't tell you what lie between us and bunker, I was tired and aching I paid little attention to anything other than staying on my feet.

When we finally reached our makeshift home, it was nightfall. Gideon retired to his campfire and Danse took me below. He went about mending me the best he could. As he inched me out of my tattered, bloodied uniform, my body objected. I stood there, half-naked and battered to all matters of hell. He looked at me sadly.

"Do you think he's right?" Danse said softly, dabbing my bruised chest with a wet rag. I blinked there in the hazy darkness, illuminated by nothing more than a lantern.

"Of course not," I replied wincing as he touched me. "What I think is that you were both angry," I said gently.

"I put a lot on you," Danse said, pausing his work and looking up at me. I gave him a softened gaze and brought his hand to my lips, kissing his fingers.

"It's nothing I can't or won't handle," I replied sternly. He stood up and crossed the room, stopping in front of a table and placing the rag into a bucket.

"I think you should go back with him," he said softly, bracing the sides of the table with his hands. I reeled at the suggestion.

"I wont go anywhere without you," I insisted.

"As long as you're with me, there will always be another battle to fight," he sighed, "And I know you can hold your own, but I don't want what happened today to ever happen again."

"I'm not going, Danse, so you can stop trying to convince me. I belong here, with you."

"Dammit Delta, I'm telling you I want you to go. Can't you listen to me for once? Who are we kidding? I'm a machine. An exiled one at that. People kill synths for just existing and as long as I'm alive the Brotherhood will kill me on sight."

"I don't care about that," my voice sounded small and distant.

"This will never work," he was putting up those walls I had worked so hard to rip down. Brick by brick.

"Stop it," I chastised him, walking up behind him and placing a hand on his back. He turned around and took my wrist roughly.

"I don't love you."

It was like someone had punched me in my stomach. Like that ghoul had tackled me all over again. I yanked my wrist away and took a step back, coiling up like a viper.

"You're lying," I accused in a shaky voice.

"Why do insist on trying to make me a human? I'm not and I never will be. I can't love you. And I never will," he said, lingering on the words bitterly. I could feel my chest tightening, aching.

"Why would you say something like that to me?" I held back a sob. "After everything we've been though. It's like slapping me in the face."

"You need to hear it." He was angry, fuming almost.

"I'm not going anywhere and you can't make me," I said. All that was missing was an angry foot stamp. I could see his anger broiling in his russet eyes. "You can say whatever you feel like you have to say to make me leave but I won't do it," I seethed, my eyes watery and hot.

We went to bed, Danse electing to move his mattress across the room. I said nothing, too stubborn and too tired to object. I don't know how long he laid there awake, or if he even did. I hoped he did. But sleep graced me gently and I was thankful to escape, even for a moment.