Author's Note: Spoilers ahead!

After the memorial service Maxson didn't return to the medical room. He had decided to resume his normal responsibilities. Knight Captain Cade disagreed with his choice, and told Tatum so. However, Cade let it slide, he knew that if things got worse Maxson would come to him.

A week passed since that day and Cade kept Tatum very busy as his apprentice. On their downtime he had her reading medical journals and practicing different techniques. Every night when she returned from her 12 hour shifts with Cade, she would collapse into bed. Her body ached and her brain hurt too; there was so much to learn and process that she often felt like quitting. However, being a medic-in-training did leave her with a sense of accomplishment when her head hit the pillow. She felt like she was actually doing something useful.

Even the other members of the Brotherhood had seemed to forget how angry they were at her and started to acknowledge that she was one of the family now. Family. The word still felt strange to her. How could she ever truly forgive them for killing her family? Yes, it was an accident, she would tell herself, but a nagging feeling deep inside her wouldn't let her forgive them, even if it was an accident.

Tatum also felt like no one discussed the important things around her. Such as where they were heading next or who they were killing. She heard the words: the Institute, several times but she didn't know what it was. She knew it had something to do with the robotic men that were in Senior Scribe Neriah's lab, but other than that, nothing. She wanted to speak to Elder Maxson several times throughout the week but whenever she sought him out he was always busy. She would retreat, defeated, back to the medical room.

In the past week she had also been given free reign of the ship and the use of the vertibirds to fly down to the airport for a bathroom break. She learned that the Brotherhood had a schedule. Every so often a group would board the vertibirds and fly down for the restrooms. When Cade gave her a break the two of them would go to the airport together, then when they returned they would either grab some food from the mess hall or jump back in to work.

Knight Captain Cade held the same beliefs as the rest of the Brotherhood, something that Tatum was slowly coming to terms with. He believed that humans were the only race that deserved to strive, but only to a certain point. Technology was a dangerous thing, as the Great War had proven, and needed to be safeguarded from the general public.

Tatum had overheard Paladin Danse speaking to a Knight he was sponsoring, he had told her that the Brotherhood commandeered technology from the commonwealth, and all over the US, so that people couldn't misuse it again. He had said that the US Government had pushed technology past their own limits and that's what led to their destruction. Tatum didn't know if she agreed with him but she hadn't seen much of the world to completely disagree either.

After all the wounds she had seen in just one week, she knew the world was a terrifyingly horrible place. Raiders, feral ghouls, supermutants, Deathclaws, Mirelurks, and mole rats. There were, of course, more awful things out there and the Brotherhood was the commonwealth's only real defense against them. It made her happy to be a part of such an extraordinary group, but the bad dreams she had nightly reminded her of her family.

She worried, as she laid down for bed, that she would be haunted by another nightmare. They were relentless, every time she closed her eyes, another horrifying dream seeped in to her head. Sometimes she dreamed of her father, others it was Derrell and Rachelle. Recently though, it had always been about Elder Maxson.

Arthur Maxson closed the door to his private quarters. He didn't know the exact time, just that it was after 2200 hours. He rolled his neck around his shoulders and removed his coat. The last several days had been exhausting. Paladin Danse's new Knight was a remarkable woman; he knew that if she was on the mission, it would be a success. However, there was talk that her loyalty wasn't genuine. Maxson had a full time job trying to quiet the rumors. That, on top of all the other duties he was responsible for.

The Institute was still a threat that loomed over the Commonwealth. Maxson knew it was the Brotherhood's duty to free the people from this threat, but with what little information they had on them, it was proving to be difficult. Other, smaller problems had arisen, supplies had gone missing from the logistics division, several crates worth. He would need someone to look in to that as soon as possible. Also, there was a group rising up that called themselves the Minutemen. Their general had an impressive suit of power armor. That was another issue that would need investigating.

Maxson poured himself a shot of whiskey and drank it all in one go. He sighed as the liquid burned down his throat. It was his first drink since coming to the Commonwealth. He filled another cup and poured that one down his throat too. He set the shot glass upside, on top of the whiskey bottle so that the cup covered the lid.

A long sigh escaped his lips as he unclipped all the belts and buckles on his uniform. He lazily pulled it off of his body, looking down at his Deathclaw scratches. They were healing well, thanks to the stimpaks he injected in to himself every night. The stim would send a rush of numbing through his torso, and numb was exactly what he needed every now and then.

It wasn't easy being 20 years old and commanding the Brotherhood of Steel. A lot of the men and women he commanded were older than him. It was a strange feeling, having his elders looking to him for direction and calling him "elder".

He pulled a pair of pajama pants from the middle drawer of the dresser at the foot of his bed. He slid them on and sat at the edge of his bed, looking at the bottle of whiskey. Maybe one more. He thought as he stood back up. He stopped in his tracks as a quiet knocking pounded on his door. Great. He sighed and answered, pulling the door open. Tatum stood there, her eyes puffy from crying and her hair a mess. She was looking at the ground.

"I…" She started but stopped. Maxson looked through the door to see if anyone was around, thankfully they weren't. Without waiting for her to finish what she had come to tell him, he grabbed her wrist and pulled her in to his room. When he touched her she finally looked up and noticed that he was only wearing pants. Her face flushed and she hid her embarrassment in her hands. He closed the door behind them and walked over to the table, grabbing the shot glass off the bottle.

He poured the amber liquid into the cup and held it out to her. "Here." She peeked through her fingers at him. "You look like you could use a drink." She slowly uncovered her face and took the glass gingerly.

"I've never had alcohol before." She said as she stared in to the cup. Maxson smiled but quickly tried to hide it. He spun on his heel and went to get another cup from his desk.

"Try it." He encouraged, eagerly awaiting her reaction. She looked at the little cup in her hand and gave it a sniff.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed. Maxson smirked and threw back his freshly poured cup of whiskey. He exhaled contently like it was a refreshing ice cold Nuka Cola. Tatum frowned but put the cup to her lips, taking a tiny sip. As soon as the fiery liquid touched her throat she held out the cup like it had just bitten her. "Oh no." She shook her head with a disgusted face. "No, thank you."

Maxson chuckled as he grabbed the cup from her hand and finished her drink. The liquid pooled in his belly like a warm campfire. He could feel the heat spreading to his face and decided that he shouldn't have any more tonight.

"Did you need something?" He asked as he set the glass on the table. "You looked upset."

"I had another bad dream." She looked at her feet, not ready to look him in the eyes. Her thick wavy hair shielding her face from his view. Maxson reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear, she lifted her head and looked at him with a surprised expression.

"Do you want to tell me about it?" He asked and she nodded. He knew that it would be more proper to sit at the table with her, but he had had a long day and the bed was slightly more comfortable. Slightly. "Sit down." He said as he gently led her to the bed. He sat on the edge and she followed his example.

"Um…" She said looking at her hands as she rubbed them together nervously. "You died, again." She didn't look at him as she spoke, uncomfortable being so close to him. "This time we were on a vertibird and it malfunctioned. There was only one parachute and you gave it to me. I had to watch as you crashed and burned."

"Easy, you won't have to ever worry about that happening." He said as upbeat as he could. She looked at him and waited for an explanation. "We don't have parachutes. You and I would burn together." He smiled at her cheerfully, maybe feeling the effects of the alcohol. Tatum couldn't help but laugh as he spoke so happily. It was nice to see him smile, he didn't do it often.

"Well, good." She said. "Because I'd rather die with someone than live alone." She had meant to say it jokingly but it came out completely serious. She watched as Maxson's face fell in to a melancholy expression.

"Me too." He said as he gently caressed her cheek. "You said that I don't seem like I'm afraid of anything, but that's not true." He confided as she swallowed, feeling the butterflies flapping around in her stomach. "I'm afraid of a lot of things: failing, dying…" He looked in to her hazel eyes, "rejection." Their lips met delicately, neither one used to kissing.

Maxson carefully stroked her cheek with his thumb as his other hand tangled in her hair. He ran his tongue over her lips and she opened her mouth to let him in. Her hands glided over his bare chest, careful not to touch his wounds. He was warm to the touch and his mouth tasted like whiskey. Is he only kissing me because he's drunk? Tatum hesitated in her movements and Maxson stopped as well. He looked at her concerned.

"I'm sorry… I'm just not ready." She said, knowing that he had just told her he was afraid of rejection.

"It's alright." He didn't look upset. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No!" Tatum put her hands up and waved them from side to side. "I liked it. I… like you." She blushed a deep red and Maxson smiled.

"Good. But, slower?" He asked and she nodded her head. "Alright."

"Um…" Her cheeks turning even deeper red, "I know this is forward but… And I don't mean anything by it." She hesitated and Maxson waited patiently. "I don't want to sleep alone." She snuck a quick glance at his face. It took him a moment to understand what she was asking.

"Yes." He answered, his brain going foggy from the alcohol. "You can stay with me tonight." She blushed even darker, tears brimming her eyes. "If that's what you want." He added quickly, worried that he had completely read her wrong. She blinked several times and bowed her head with a nod.

"Thanks." She said as she crawled into bed behind him. "Do you have a favorite side?" She asked, still embarrassed. He swallowed hard, he had never had a woman in his bed before.

"Not really." He answered quickly, his nerves getting the better of him. "I'll get an extra pillow." He got off the bed and walked across his room to the tall dresser where he opened a drawer and pulled out a fluffy white pillow. He handed it to her and she gently took it from him.

She placed the pillow under her head and made herself comfortable, laying on her side, facing Maxson's side of the bed. Does she want to cuddle? Maxson thought panicked. His wounds were healing well enough that it probably wouldn't bother him if she touched them. He was more concerned about the growing bulge in his pants. He didn't want to scare her away with that, but if he turned his back to her, it might seem like he was ignoring her.

"I can leave…" Tatum said looking up at Maxson who was still standing by the bed.

"No, I was just making sure you were comfortable. I'll get the lights." He spoke with a clear voice even though he was crumbling on the inside, Deathclaws were no problem, but a girl...

She nodded her head and he turned to click the lights off. He carefully walked back to her and got in beside her, sharing the sheet. He laid on his back, hoping she wouldn't notice anything. She breathed a content sigh on his shoulder.

"Good night." She said, entwining her fingers with his. He held her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze.

"Good night." He whispered back.

In the morning, both Maxson and Tatum were woken up by the ringing of his alarm clock. He reached over and shut it off. Tatum snuggled up to his arm, her body warm and soft.

"Morning already?" She asked sleepily. Maxson watched her pleasant expression, her eyes still closed.

"Unfortunately so." He told her as he gently used his free hand to caress her face. "But you still have an hour before you are needed for duty." She smiled and wiggled up closer to him.

"You're the boss, don't you make the rules? Can't you stay a little longer?" She asked finally opening her eyes to meet his gaze. He smirked and shook his head.

"I have a lot to do." He gently pried his arm free and sat up, stretching.

"Then I'll get up too." She said and mirrored his stretch. He chuckled and pat her on the head. She rewarded him with an adorable giggle. He liked seeing her like this, warm and happy, freshly woken up.

"I have to get dressed." He hinted and she stared at him blankly. "You can stay if you want…" He offered while untying the pull strings on his pajamas. He knew she wouldn't take him up on that offer.

"Oh!" She bolted out of bed, nearly falling in to him. "I'll go!" He gently caught her arm and placed a kiss on her cheek. She looked away shyly. "Goodbye Elder." She quickly left the room and Maxson stared at the closed door for a while, lost in thought. It was such a perfect start to his morning; he had no idea what lied ahead.

Tatum snuck back to her bed and changed out of her clothes and in to the brotherhood uniform, snapping each buckle happily. She couldn't stop the warm feeling that was spreading through her and she wasn't sure she wanted it to stop.

Practically skipping, she made her way to the mess hall. "Good morning!" She said with a huge smile.

"Good morning." The Mess Officer, that everyone called Sparks, replied. "Sleep well last night?" He knew that she had been having troubles sleeping, he could tell by the way she always had dark circles under her eyes.

"I did, actually." She smiled like she had won the lottery. "Any chance you can make pancakes?" She looked at him hopefully. He bit his lower lip and started scrounging around for ingredients.

"Hmm." He hummed in surprise. "Looks like I can. Although there won't be any syrup to go on top." Tatum shrugged, it wasn't going to bring down her mood. "I do have…" He paused dramatically as he reached under the counter and brought up a bar of chocolate. "This." He presented it to her, watching her eyes widen in amazement.

"Is that—" She gulped. "Chocolate?!" She had only eaten it once before in her life, on her tenth birthday. A little present from her father.

"Sure is." Sparks smiled broadly. "How about I chop it up and throw it in the batter?" He suggested and she nodded her head eagerly. He got to work straight away, using a kitchen knife with amazing speed and skill, in no time the chocolate bar had been diced in to little pieces. He mixed the flour, water, eggs, sugar, salt and milk together. The last ingredient Tatum didn't recognize. Then he added the chocolate to the bowl.

She watched with great interest as he mixed everything together. He set down the bowl and pulled an electric hot plate from below the counter. Placing it on top, he plugged it in. She watched eagerly like a puppy waiting for its meal as he grabbed a frying pan and spatula, giving her a smile every so often. He greased the pan and set it on the hot plate. Carefully he poured the batter on to the pan and Tatum watched as it sizzled and eventually bubbled.

Once it was bubbling all around, he stuck the spatula under the pancake and flipped it in the air. Tatum giggled as he caught it and set it back in the pan. He looked at her with a strange, but kind expression.

"Sorry." Tatum apologized. "If I'm being weird I can go sit over there." She pointed to one of the tables.

"No, not at all." He had a soft sort of melancholy look on his face. "I was just thinking of my daughter. You remind me of her."

"You have a daughter?" Tatum's eyes lit up. Maybe she was around her age?

"I had a daughter." Sparks replied with a kind smile. "She would be 14 this year." He said more to himself than her.

"I'm so sorry." Tatum said sincerely.

"Thank you." He gave her a small smile as he slid the finished pancake on to a plate. He handed it to her and reached for a fork. "Supermutants got her. I couldn't do anything to stop them." He said as he poured another pancake on to the frying pan. "Got my wife too." He stared at the orange coils on the hot plate, his mind going back to places he had tried to forget. "That's why I joined the Brotherhood." He said as he looked up at her, giving her a small smile. "So that I would be able to protect people. People that are just like what I used to be like. I thought that if I could save even one child, I might be able to forgive myself for not being able to save my daughter." His eyes stared off in to the distance, back to the past.

Tatum was watching him closely, she hadn't touched her food. He chuckled as he refocused on the girl in front of him. "Sorry, didn't mean to ruin your breakfast. Eat up!" He jabbed at her plate with the spatula. "If it's any good, maybe I'll have one too."

Tatum nodded her head and gave him a smile. Her fork cut through the pancake easily and she put a piece in her mouth. Even without syrup it was delightful. The chocolate was a perfect combination of melty and rich. "Mmm!" She exclaimed and took another bite.

"That settles it then, this one is mine." He said as he flipped the cooking pancake. He looked over at the bowl of batter. "I made quite a bit. You're going to have to eat another." Tatum smiled and nodded, her mouth full. He chuckled and the two of them ate pancakes until they were stuffed. Two pancakes remained.

"Can I give those to Elder Maxson?" Tatum asked, feeling giddy with excitement. The Mess Officer looked surprised but nodded his head.

"I think that would be OK." He smiled at her and she grabbed the plate and a fork. With a quick "thank you" she was off and running. She still had a couple minutes before she needed to report for duty. Tatum made her way to the meeting room, where she knew Maxson would be, but as she approached she could hear him talking with someone. He didn't sound happy.

"Paladin Danse's DNA is a perfect match for a synth they called 'M7-97'. To make matters worse, he's gone AWOL. Disappeared without a trace." Maxson's voice barely contained his outrage. Tatum was frozen in her tracks. She didn't know what to do. She knew she should leave, he was having a private conversation and she was eavesdropping. But curiosity won over when he had mentioned Paladin Danse's disappearance. She listened to their conversation despite her gut telling her not to.

"His sudden absence simply reinforces our conclusion that 'M7-97' and Paladin Danse are one in the same." He continued. "I'm finding it difficult to believe that he never confided in you and then swore you to secrecy."

"You have to believe me. He never told me he was a synth!" The woman's voice rang out, obviously distressed.

"Hmph." Maxson breathed. "It seems I've misjudged you. Which means I've decided to take you at your word." His voice raised slightly as he used a commanding tone. "However, that doesn't absolve you of your duty. Danse is a synth. He represents everything we hate… a monstrosity of technology."

Tatum could barely believe what she was hearing, and from the sounds of the gasps that the woman was making, it was clear the Knight was having a hard time as well.

"Our mission in the Commonwealth is clear. The Institute and its creations need to be destroyed in order to preserve out future."

Tatum blinked, is he going to kill him?

"Which leaves me facing the most difficult order I've ever given. I'm ordering you to hunt down Danse and execute him."

"There has to be another way." The woman begged.

"Absolutely not, my decision is final." He said sternly. Then added, "Listen, I'm not blind to the fact that Danse was your mentor and this isn't an easy burden to bear. But if we're to remain strong, we can't afford to make exceptions… even when it means executing one of our own."

Tatum couldn't listen to anymore. She spun on her heel, leaving the pancakes on the railing, and ran. She thought she would go to her bed, her safe little island, but Knight Captain Cade caught her.

"Where are you going?" He asked, stopping her in her tracks.

"I—" She fumbled for the words but couldn't say anything.

"Well, you're five minutes late." He informed her, looking a little annoyed. "Ready to get to work?" He asked and Tatum nodded her head. She figured she could use the distraction. Maxson had said that he would kill one of his own… that didn't sit well with her one bit.

As the two of them worked, refilling syringes of med-x, Tatum was lost in thought. Even if she didn't like Paladin Danse, which she didn't, he was still the most loyal man she had ever seen. He seemed to live and breathe Brotherhood. He's really going to kill him? She thought with a frown. His own family…

"Knight Captain Cade?" She asked quietly.

"Finally going to tell me what's been going on in that head of yours?" He questioned.

"What's a synth?" She heard the word often but never really knew.

"A synth?" Cade looked at her in surprise. "You mean you really don't know?" She shook her head. "Oh, well… A synth is a robot, created by the Institute. There are several models, some look robotic—"

"Like the ones in Neriah's lab?" Tatum chipped in.

"Yes, like those. There are also ones that look a little more human-like, with hard plastic for skin and yellow glowing eyes. Then there's the really bad ones." She was staring at him, taking every word in with great interest. "The ones that look so human, you can't tell that they're not. Half of them don't even know, from what I hear."

"Do they have feelings?" She asked, trying not to sound suspicious.

"No. They have programming which is often confused for feelings. But they are machines, nothing more." He had a look in his eye like he knew what she was talking about, but neither one would truly broach the topic. He sighed deeply and set down his syringe. "Say you have a guy that's been a farmer his whole life, and he loves doing it every day. Now say the Institute abducts him and replaces him with a synth that looks exactly like him. They program that synth to have all the farmer's memories and knowledge. The synth goes about his business, tending crops."

Tatum nodded to show she was following along.

"All's fine and dandy, right?" She nodded hesitantly in response, not really sure how to answer. "Wrong." He said seriously. "First of all, that machine just replaced an actual living person." The thought did send a chill down her spine. "Second, everything that synth is doing, everyone he meets and everything he sees is most likely being transmitted to the Institute." He let that soak in a moment before continuing. "They could have eyes everywhere… even here."

The weight of that realization was almost too heavy to bear. She felt so conflicted. Paladin Danse and Tatum had never seen eye to eye, in fact she was pretty sure that he would have killed Derrell and Rachelle even knowing they weren't feral. But a feeling deep inside her told her that it wasn't his fault, he was just doing what he thought was right. He didn't deserve the fate that was decided for him.

"Knight Captain Cade? May I be excused? I'd like to go see Elder Maxson." She asked trying to sound confident.

"Do you really think that's a wise choice right now?" He questioned her and she nodded her head.

"Yes, I have to talk to him before it's too late."

"You're going to try to save Danse?" His eyebrows almost touched the top of his head. "The guy hates you."

"I know he does." She whined but shook her head and cleared her throat, speaking in a more mature tone. "Please." Cade sighed and gave her a nod. She saluted him and left quickly. When she arrived at the meeting room, Maxson wasn't there. She looked around for a moment and noticed that the pancakes she had left were missing. She searched for them by looking over the banister, they hadn't fallen. A sinking feeling was settling in to her gut, he probably knew that she was listening and was probably angry.

Wait! A terrifying thought occurred to her. What if he's not here? What if he went after Danse himself? She hurried towards his private quarters, praying that he would be there while simultaneously hoping he wasn't. She felt sick, her hands shook and sweat beaded on her forehead. When she reached his door she was panting. Catching her breath before knocking, she nervously tightened her ponytail. OK. She thought. You can do this.

She knocked on the door and waited for a response. After a moment it opened and Maxson stood before her, looking as intimidating as he had the day they met. He stepped aside and let her in the room. She could smell the whiskey on his breath as she passed.

"Arthur…" She used his first name which caught him off guard. "I think you're making a mistake." She took a deep breath after the words tumbled out. No going back now. She thought as she straightened her shoulders and back.

"Excuse me?" He replied darkly.

"Paladin Danse deserves to live." She stated boldly.

"Live?" He repeated, anger lacing his voice. "He is not living, initiate. He is a machine. Nothing more than a computer."

"But he is completely devoted to you and the Brotherhood—" She tried to argue but Maxson stepped towards her menacingly and she backed up until the back of her knees hit the bed.

"He is programmed to be loyal, it's not real. None of it." He shook his head with a scowl. "He has betrayed my trust and betrayed the Brotherhood!" Tatum watched closely as he yelled about Danse's subterfuge. The more he spoke the more obvious it was that he was hurting. "I trusted him with everything and this is what I get!?" His lower lip trembled and Tatum wrapped her arms around him before she could think.

"I'm so sorry." She said in to his chest. He was too surprised to respond. "I can't even imagine how you're feeling right now." Above her head Maxson closed his eyes, his lip giving another tremble. He bit it to keep it still. "You said that the Brotherhood was a family and that includes Danse. Please don't kill him, he deserves to live."

Gently, Maxson pushed the girl away from him and went to his desk. His back towards her as he took a long swig from a bourbon bottle. With a sigh he wiped his mouth and said barely above a whisper. "It's too late. I've already given the order."

"No it isn't! Go to him. Stop this from happening." She pleaded.

"Enough!" Maxson threw the bottle against the wall and it smashed in to pieces, glass and alcohol everywhere. She flinched in surprise and drew back in fear. "I will not have some girl that doesn't know anything about the world telling me what I should and should not do." He didn't move from where he stood, afraid that he might actually hurt her if he did.

She barely held the tears back as she looked in to his face, contorted with anger and despair. Her eyes fell to the ground as she thought of what she should do. She wanted to comfort him and convince him that killing Paladin Danse would be the biggest mistake of his life. She knew that he would never forgive himself. When she looked back up she noticed the plate of pancakes sitting on his table, untouched.

"Elder, please." She spoke softly. "Paladin Danse is a huge jerk but he's not a bad man. There isn't a single thing he wouldn't do for the Brotherhood."

"But that's exactly it, isn't it?" Maxson looked her in the eyes, his composure coming back. "He isn't a bad man because he isn't a man at all. He is a machine that was probably built to infiltrate our base. He is a threat to the entire Brotherhood and he will be eliminated." He ran his hand through his hair and put it back in place. "I will not risk the lives of my people for one robot." His words were crystal clear and Tatum knew there was no convincing him otherwise.

"Yes sir." She said with a salute before leaving Maxson alone in his cold metal room. She didn't feel like working anymore but dragged her feet back to medical anyway. Cade took pity on her and allowed her to do easy, mindless tasks for the rest of her shift.

When she finally returned to her bed it felt cold, unlike how warm Maxson's had been the night before. She laid down with the feeling that his bed, tonight, might even be colder than hers.

Author's Note 2: Thank you all for reading my story! I love seeing that people are enjoying it. I just wanted to say that I've kind of hit a bit of writer's block, (other stories keep occupying my mind) so updates won't be as frequent anymore. But I DO intend to keep going on this one. I have lots of ideas for it still, I'm just trying to sort through them.

Again, thanks for your support!