"Holy shit! Are you okay?"

Rose hovered near Danse as he sank down on one knee, breathing heavily. His power armor was still steaming; she didn't touch it for fear of scalding herself. It wasn't her intention to start a Brotherhood of Steel barbeque in the middle of Arcjet, but he had been surrounded by way too many synths and their ammo had been running low. Starting up the rocket engine had certainly fried any robots… but Danse had still been in the room when she had set it off. Oops.

"I'll be fine," Danse grunted, finally pushing himself to his feet. "I got fried, but the power armor blocked most of the damage. Nothing a stimpak or two won't fix." He looked around at the charred remains of plastic, metal, and circuitry. "That was pretty fast thinking."

"Inspiration in desperation," Rose said wryly, but despite her sarcastic tone she was relieved to see that the paladin was okay. Being roasted to death wasn't a fate she would wish on too many people, even someone as generally aggravating as Danse.

"Were you able to reroute the power to the elevator?" She nodded. "Good. Let's get out of here before even more synths show up."

"What exactly is your issue with synths anyway, Danse?" Rose asked as they stepped into the rickety elevator. The gears groaned under the weight of his power armor, but it began to climb to the top of the building, albeit slowly. She hoped that she hadn't gone through all that trouble to power it up only to have the cables snap.

She couldn't see Danse's face, but she could feel the frown building there. "I'm assuming you mean other than the fact that they spent the better part of the last two hours trying to kill us?"

"I mean synths in general, smartass." She reloaded as they talked, just in case more Gen 1's decided to pop up outside the door. "And ghouls too, for that matter. I can understand not being the biggest fan of supermutants- I don't really like the idea of being torn apart and eaten myself- but the others are individuals, as much as you or I."

"It's a long story," Danse said gruffly.

"And we've got a long walk ahead of us. So start talking."

His sigh sounded raspy through his power armor. "Very well." He thought for a moment. "I grew up alone in the Capital Wasteland. Spent most of my childhood picking through ruins and selling scrap. When I was older and had a few caps to my name, I moved into Rivet City and opened a junk stand. While I was there, I met a guy named Cutler. We got along pretty well, watched each other's backs, and kept each other out of trouble. When the Brotherhood came through on a recruiting run, we felt like it was the best way out of our nowhere lives, so we joined up."

"I can see how that would seem more appealing than a lifetime spent selling junk. Gotta say that I have a hard time picturing you as a merchant, though."

"Clearly I was ignoring my calling."

They had reached the top floor and departed the building, relieved when they encountered nothing but the fractured remains of synths they had already destroyed. Rose felt a weird sense of satisfaction as she stepped over the shattered robotic limbs and torsos… whatever the deep range transmitter was for, apparently the Institute had been after it as well. The fact that she helped deprive them of something they had been searching for counted as a victory in her book.

"Anyway, about a year after we were posted to the Prydwen, Cutler vanished on a scouting op," Danse continued, removing his helmet once they got outside so she could see his face. "It took some convincing, but I was able to convince my CO to let me assemble a squad to go search for him."

"You had to convince him? What, was he just going to let Cutler and the others go MIA indefinitely?"

"Having a squad go dark isn't unusual," Danse explained somewhat defensively. "Technology in the wasteland is unreliable, at best, which can make long-distance communication challenging. And there are often unforeseen circumstances that can extend the duration of an op." His face clouded as the memories resurfaced in thoughts. "Cutler had been gone for over two weeks, though, on a mission that should have taken two days. It didn't feel right."

"Did you ever find him?" she asked, though the sinking feeling in her chest told her she already knew the answer.

"It took almost three weeks, but we tracked his team down to a supermutant hive." Danse's voice gained a razor-sharp edge as he spoke. "Those wretched abominations had slaughtered everyone but Cutler. He should have been so lucky. Those bastards used their FEV to change him into one of their own kind."

"Damn," Rose swore softly. "Danse, I am so sorry."

"He wasn't Cutler anymore," Danse said. "I had to… it was my duty to… to put him down."

Her brow creased. "There wasn't anything else you could do?"

"The effects of the FEV are irreversible, and he would have gone on to kill a lot of innocent people if I hadn't acted." Danse sounded like he was trying to convince himself more than her. "Even if I hadn't been bound by the expectations of the Brotherhood… I wouldn't have wanted him to live on like that. I would hope that he would have done the same for me."

Trying to keep her tone gentle, Rose asked, "So you hate all 'non-humans' because of what those supermutants did to your friend?"

"Wouldn't you?" Danse demanded, suddenly incensed. He wheeled on Rose, intimidating in his massive armor. "Cutler was the only true friend I ever had, and those things corrupted everything he was. I had to gun down my best friend!"

"I wouldn't presume to know what that's like," Rose said evenly, not backing down from the soldier's anger. "But condemning the many based on the actions of a few is wrong, Danse."

Danse scowled and turned away. "You don't understand."

"Maybe not… but I do know that some of the first people to reach out and help me when I woke up in this world weren't what you consider human," she countered. "My friend Nick is a detective in Diamond City who has been helping me search for my son… for free, I might add. He's probably one of the best people I've ever met, and he's a synth. And Hancock…"

"What is it with you and that ghoul, anyway?" Danse asked sharply. "How you can even stand to be near him… aren't you worried about radiation poisoning?"

"What, you mean like when we're having sex?" Danse made a disgusted noise and turned away, uncomfortable. "Yeah, that's right; I've slept with him. And not that it's any of your business, but no; being around him has never made me sick."

"He's a violent drug addict with a criminal history. How does an educated woman like yourself get mixed up with someone like that in the first place?"

She wrinkled her nose. "God, you sound just like my father. Hancock is not a drug addict; he likes chems, sure, but he isn't addicted. I don't know that ghouls can really become addicted to chems, at least not in the way that we can. And violence is really par for the course out here in the wasteland; if that's all you've got to judge him with, then you don't really have a leg to stand on."

"You didn't answer my question."

She arched an eyebrow at him, but deigned to answer. "I met him when I went into Goodneighbor looking for leads on my son. He helped me to take out the man who murdered my husband, and he brought me back after I was snatched up by a raider gang, with help from Nick and our friend Piper. I'd be dead a hundred times over if I hadn't had him with me to watch my back."

"And yet he left."

Her heart sank as she remembered their fight. "Yeah, he left." She kicked at a rusted-out iron railing as they walked, knocking it into the dust. "Stubborn jackass."

Danse didn't hesitate to take advantage of the opening. "I wish you'd reconsider joining the Brotherhood. It'd be a much better use of your skills… we need soldiers like you. Bold, unafraid to do what needs to be done, passionate." He shifted a little awkwardly, and then continued, "I'd be willing to personally sponsor you, if that were the case."

Rose's steps faltered for a moment. "Wow. That's… I appreciate the vote of confidence, Danse. But I can't abandon the search for my son to run ops to further your goals. And running the Minutemen is responsibility enough." She chuckled, trying to lighten the rejection somewhat. "Besides, I'm terrible at taking orders. I can't kowtow to someone just because they have a higher rank than me. I'd be more trouble than I'm worth."

"The offer still stands, if you ever change your mind." Another minute or so of silence, and then Danse asked, "So what's next for you, then? You're going after that courser?"

Rose hummed an affirmative. "I'm going back to Goodneighbor first though."

"For your pet ghoul."

"Watch it," she warned. "And yes. John acted like an idiot, but I think I understand why. I'm not giving up on him because of one fight, even if he's behaving like a hardheaded jackass. He'll have headed back to his city… I guess I'll either talk things out with him or beat him into submission. Whatever works." She glanced up at Danse. "That last part was a joke, by the way. In case that wasn't clear."

"I do possess a sense of humor, as much as you believe the contrary to be true." Danse sighed. "I wish you wouldn't go back there, but walking through Boston is dangerous on your own… especially for a female. If you like, I can escort you back safely. I owe you that much at least."

"I'd appreciate the backup, thanks." She grinned. "Don't worry, I won't make you go in and say hi."