Woah okay, that chapter took longer than I wanted to. I hope I'll be faster with the third one :D (I planed for six chapters, by the way)
This chapter is brought to you by Blues Saraceno – carry me back home and Nik Ammar - the burnin'. ;) Have fun reading!
The Burnin'
Deacon. This goddamn motherfucker. But how did he... when did he...- no. It didn't matter. Daron promised himself to crush his ugly sunglasses into his eyes, smash his face, wiping out that all-time-stupid-grin from it.
"Deacon. What. Have. You. Done" Daron shouted through gritted teeth. He was still getting cover from those crates but it made him furious to be unable to see what happened to Danse. His heart pouted hard in his chest. Anger. Fear. And even more anger. But he knew he needed to stay focused.
"Danse is fine, Paladin. Or let's say: he will be fine."
"What. Have. You. Done!" Daron yelled again. His hands were shivering; not good when you want to shoot someone as bad as he wanted to shoot Deacon right now.
"You know, Cryzek", he heard Deacon; that bastard must be hiding somewhere south from him but not too far, "Joining the Brotherhood of Steel is so not cool. But working for the Institute? Dude, that's really awful." - "How do you-?! - "Oh come on. We know a lot of things. I thought you understood that when you found the Railroad and chose not to help us. I watched every step you've taken. And 'tis funny, you know? We thought Danse was the one we had to keep an eye on!" Daron heard a short laughter. Yeah, idiot, keep talking. Tell me your position, he thought. There was some shuffling near him. They wanted to surround him.
"But turned out it was me, right? A few more days and I would've raided your little Railroad hideout, Deacon", Daron shouted. Keep him talking. Just keep him talking and meanwhile figure out what you have to do.
"Yeah. Turned out it was you." Deacons voice apparently got colder. Good. He'd hit a nerve. "But surprise! Danse don't need to die in your little war. We will take him with us, reboot him and he'll be a free and save Synth with us."
Darons eyes widened in horror. They knew? The goddamn Railroad Company knew?! He had no time to think about the hows and whys. Slowly and as quiet as he was able to he slid to the left side of his cover.
"Touch him and I will melt your face, Deacon", he shouted while he checked the radar on his Pipboy.
Bingo.
Deacon may have the mechanics to hide from the radar but two of his guys clearly didn't cause he could see someone moving to his position. Like he guessed it: they wanted to surround him.
"You're playing a dangerous game, Cryzek. Maybe the Brotherhood is too stupid to see that you work for the Institute – and the Institute on the other hand is just to arrogant to see your work with the Brotherhood. But we know. And an innocent Synth doesn't need to die in your twofaced war!"
Daron gritted his teeth. Maniacs. Goddamn maniacs! But he told himself to calm down. To focus his anger. He mustn't get blind from wrath. All he needed was the right moment...
One quick look at his Pipboy and Daron saw that the two guys where near enough for a quick attack. One of them yelled and unloaded a whole magazine. Wood splintered, things inside the crates got hit and by the sound of it there were probably Tatos. Daron ducked, hands over his head but the wooden crates held. And that was the moment he's been waiting for. Daron threw himself out of cover, having the element of surprise and shot both men who where trying to come around.
Daron knew he was a good shot. Usually he needed one bullet or two but he just couldn't hold his rage and pierced the two men with every bullet he had in his Revolver. Which was a problem, because Deacon was still alive... and also probably other farmers.
The one he shot but didn't kill in the house.
A few gathered around the farm, probably being with Deacon.
But Daron saw red. He wanted blood and he would get it.
His enemies only needed a few seconds to get a hold of the situation. Not that this helped them. These few seconds were enough time for Daron to run and dive for one of the weapons on the ground. Its former owner coughed blood and was about to kick the bucket. He wouldn't need it anymore...
It was almost like being back at the War. Bullets hit the ground to his feed, there was a graze, but Daron felt no pain. Everything around him was loud, but he suppressed it. He was focused. He knew what he wanted.
If someone would ask him later how he defeated every remaining attacker, Daron wouldn't have an answer. And maybe that was for the better. What he could recall though was that his arm was bloody, his leg was shot and that he kneeled over Deacon, beating the shit out of him.
He would remember screaming words in his bloody face until Deacon finally whimpered in agony but that didn't stop him.
Until finally Daron recognized the silence around him. It was when he gained awareness again, snapping out of his wrath. He looked around the farm. A massacre. Then he looked below. Deacons head was a smashed pumpkin. A bloody, gored smashed pumpkin. The sunglasses broken, part of this ugly mess. Daron closed his eyes in disgust but he felt nothing. No pain. No satisfaction. Even the burning rage vanished and all what was left inside him was... emptiness.
At least for a few moments where he got up, breathing heavy. His leg must hurt, it had to, but he didn't feel it. Same for his arm. But it just felt numb.
But then his gaze wandered to the tree where Danse had sought cover and he saw his body on the ground. The emotions came back and hit him as hard as a truck at full speed.
"Danse" he managed to cough, tears filling up in his eyes. He stumbled towards him, the bloody wound in his leg didn't let him limp faster.
"No. Nononono, don't do this to me..." Daron whispered, nearly collapsing next to Danse. He quickly searched his body for injuries. There was the bullet wound at his arm, but that was nowhere lethal. Danses eyes were closed, his mouth open a bit, almost like he was asleep. Almost. But he wasn't breathing.
Daron saw something stuck in Danses chest. It looked like a very small version of a harpoon shaft and was made of very clear metal. He yanked it out but the amount of blood from the small wound wasn't dangerous at all. But when Daron'd touched it, he'd felt a light, electric discharge. What has Deacon done?! Well Daron sure couldn't ask him anymore. He should've let him stay alive, at least barely enough to tell him what he did to Danse – and how he could unwind it.
None of that should've happened.
If he'd just taken MacCready with him... or at least their Powerarmor... but no. Daron'd decided to go with Danse, to go without proper armor, to be a two faced asshole, to-
Daron gasped. Tears were spilling over. He ran a hand over is own face, wiping away dirt, blood and tears.
"I can't do this again. I can't-" His voice cracked, his head dropped. He closed his eyes with shivering lips.
Daron had no idea how long he's been sitting in the swampy soil that slowly turned into wet mud. It started to rain, maybe a minute ago, maybe an hour.
He recognized the pain in his leg. Maybe he should treat this wound with a Stimpak otherwise there would be no way he could bring Danse back to civilization. Because he won't give up on him. Danse being dead? No that wasn't logical. Not while he remembered Deacons words. On the other hand Deacon was a lying ass... but Daron was sure, he had to be sure, that Deacon spoke truth about Danse. The Railroad wouldn't kill a Synth, would they?
Daron tried to lift Danse body and carry him but he couldn't even walk a few meters with his wounded leg, Stimpak or not, Darons own body was close to collapsing and just giving up, no matter what his head wanted. The Red Rocket was a day march away. He thought about calling a Vertibird, but... would they even see a grenade here, so far away from anything? And even if they got his SOS... what would happen if they saw Danse? He could kill the pilot and hijack the Vertibird, probably, but...
"No. No that won't work. Think, Daron. Think...", he mumbled to himself, unconsciously caressing Danses hair. His gaze dropped and he bit his lip hard, detaining himself from crying again. "You won't die on my watch. I won't let you. Please hold on... I will get us out of here, I just... I just don't know... how."
But then it hit him.
"The Institute", he mumbled, his eyes widened while his thoughts became clear. He searched his pockets for the small teleporter he always had with him. Sure it was dangerous to teleport two people and Shaun and the guys from the Institute would probably give him hell for bringing a stranger to their little secret facility but Daron just gave zero fucks. If anyone could help Danse it was the Institute. They had the machines, and dammit, no one knew better about Synths than them. And after everything he'd done for them... fuck it. They owed him.
Farewell my love
We'll be together soon
I'm resting with the angels
They'll carry me to you
Realize my dear
We'll see each other soon
We'll meet up in the heavens
I'll wait alone for you
Oh! I hear them say
The angels are calling me back home
Good night, my dear
Bestill your worried heart
Keep me in your prayers
We'll never be apart!
Take heed, sweet love
You'll never be alone
I'm watching from the heavens
To keep you safe from harm
Oh! I hear them say
The angels call to me!
And when their trumpets play
The angels will carry me back home!
Blues Saraceno – carry me back home