Toy Soldiers

All was silent, the landscape coated by a quiet that could crush and choke. The inhabitants of The Slog stood at the ready, armed and poised at the boundaries of their home. Some stood firm, others trembled. Arlen Glass was a statue, rusted crowbar in hand; Wiseman clutched a rifle, the barrel trembling over the edge of the barricade. Flanking them all were two hulking figures of metal, staring out into the void.

"When they arrive," Quinn said, her voice a whip crack in the stillness of the air, "follow the paladin's lead." An outbreak of murmurs began, and she spoke louder to drown them out. "If you want to live, trust me. And trust him. He's experienced. He's fought them more times than any of us put together. Follow his lead and he will keep you safe." Danse nodded to her as the the mutterings died away, the hush sweeping over them again.

The minutes ticked away, stretching into eons as the night grew thick and black. They waited.

In the distance, there were footsteps. Loud, stomping footsteps. Danse shifted his weight and peered through the sights of his rifle. He held up a hand to the others for them to wait, took careful aim, and fired. Red streaked through the air, firing up the dark and revealing a dozen super mutants ahead, their lipless mouths and staring eyes lit up scarlet in the gloom. The shot hit one in the head, knocking it clean off its feet. It was like a dam breaking loose, the fury of the super mutants crashing down onto them.

Screams filled the air, both mutant and human, as the enemy charged. Quinn ducked as bullets flew past her head, burying themselves in the dirt behind her. Danse stayed above the barricade, ignoring the bullets pinging off his armour and firing. "Hand to hand, stay where you are! Ranged, hold position and keep firing!" Several mutants went down as the combined power of the guns and the turrets bit back, but they were still coming. It was then that Quinn heard an odd, beeping noise. It was faint, but it was getting closer. The other mutants ran back while the hounds ran forward. "Focus on the dogs, don't let them get close!" Danse yelled, but then he froze and let his weapon fall, staring out into the distance. Quinn followed his gaze and saw what had captured his attention: a small, red light, flicking on and off.

"What is that?" she shouted, but Danse had leapt to his feet, cutting her off.

"Get back, everyone get back!" he roared. "Get back from the perimeter, go go go!"

What the-?

Danse fired a few more shots, and then turned to her, motioning to the machete-like blade which Quinn had been sharpening stakes with earlier. She tossed to him and he caught it, wedging it haphazardly into the utility belt on his power armour. He threw himself over the barricade, tearing off towards the horde. Quinn struggled up and tried to follow, but Danse yelled over his shoulder at her. "Stay back, soldier! Get them out of here!" He ran on, guns blazing, and by the light of the laser blasts, she finally saw what had set off his panic. Thundering straight towards them was a super mutant, eyes wild and mouth screaming obscenities, a fatman shell with and a detonator tucked underneath its arm. Shrieks of terror rippled through the ghouls behind her, the splat of mud sounding as they turned and ran. A mutant hound bounded past her, but before she could take it down, there was a dull thud as Arlen Glass leapt from the shadows, swinging at the dog with all his might. It staggered, snarled, and lunged for him, but a crack snapped through the air and the hound fell dead, a hole between its eyes.

"Come on, Arlen!" Wiseman yelled, shakily reloading. "We can't do shit out in the open!"

"Are you alright?" Quinn cut across Wiseman. Arlen nodded and she turned on her heel, sprinting after Danse. Seconds later, an explosion threw him off his feet.

"Get back from the perimeter, go go go!" Danse signalled for the machete, caught it with one hand, and sprinted on, barely aware of what he was doing with it. Quinn was trying to go with him. A fear ripped through him like he had never felt before. She could not follow. He had to take this thing down now, whatever the cost, whatever might happen. He threw back an order over his shoulder, "Stay back, soldier! Get them out of here!" Before he could check that she had obeyed, a hound snapped at his leg, nearly knocking him over. He hit it with the butt of his rifle and shot it until it crumbled to ash. Danse looked up. The mutant was still running, laughing manically as it sprinted towards him. It was right at the edge of the safe distance; if the bomb went off now, the settlement would be unscathed...but he wasn't sure about himself. Would the armour protect him? He could shoot it down, but if it didn't die...if he missed? It would be better to retreat, perhaps. They were only ghouls after all…

A familiar stomping sound made him turn around. Quinn was running full pelt towards him, despite his order for her to stay behind. If she got any closer, she'd be in the range of the nuke. Danse's mind was made up. He pulled the machete from his belt and hurled it as hard as he could; it spun through the air and cleaved clean through the mutant's arm. The mutant howled, clutching at the gaping wound at its shoulder, and ran back after the nuke, which was rolling away towards the other mutants. Most of them scattered when Danse took aim, but some of the larger ones saw the threat and acted. Bullets hailed down on him, sparks flying off the metal, but Danse shrugged it off the way only a paladin could do. Ad Victoriam.

The earth shook and Quinn staggered, the weight of her armour the only thing holding her in place. A huge fireball bloomed out as debris and dust whirled past her, filling the air with a deep, grimy smoke that made her think of morning fog on the Boston coast. Despite the air filters in her suit, Quinn found herself coughing as the acrid smell hit her nose. But where was Danse? With mounting worry, she raised her rifle and moved forward, trampling through blood and scorch marks, the Geiger counter ticking away as she made her way to where she had last seen him. His rifle lay on the ground, the metal glowing slightly. It'll be a miracle if the parts haven't melted together, Quinn thought. She looked around desperately for some sign of him, and spotted what looked like a heap of black rock in front of a set of deep furrows in the ground. Quinn ran over, his rifle in her hand, and knelt down beside him. "Danse?" She shook him. "Danse?"

The mound of charred steel groaned. "What have I told you about shaking the injured?"

"Humans! Die!" Apparently some of the mutants had survived, though Quinn couldn't fathom how for the life of her. A spray of bullets hit them, and she moved herself in front of Danse without thinking, dropping his gun and raising her own. A cry came from her right.

"Get them!" The ghouls were back, running across the battlefield with a mixture of weapons at hand. Only Wiseman remained behind at the barricade, firing a series of quick, successive shots at every mutant that moved. Quinn grabbed hold of Danse, and with some considerable effort on the part of her armour, hauled him back up.

"Your rifle is fucked," she said, thrusting her own combat rifle into his hands. "Take this and stay here. You'll do better with long range."

"What about you?"

"I have my shotgun. Stay-" Quinn began to say, but Danse wasn't paying attention, staring straight past her. She turned to see what he was looking at and saw, in the outskirts of the main fight, a small ghoul pelting the mutants with rocks. Danse pushed past her without a word and sprinted off, his path crooked as he staggered with speed. Swearing loudly, she pursued, shouting his name, but he ignored her. He stooped down to pick up the twisted remains of a bumper sword and hit a mutant with it, taking away half of its face with a single swipe. He moved on without finishing the job, dropping Quinn's rifle and opting for sheer strength to carry him through, smashing and slicing his way through the enemy. Reaching the centre, Danse threw the sword like a spear. It took out the nearest mutant, and he darted forward and hurled a punch into the other, knocking it out of the way. Grunting with effort, Danse scooped Sarah up into his arms, turning his back to the battle to use his body as a shield. Quinn caught up, rifle reacquired, and blasted the brains out of a mutant about to bring a pipe down on Danse's head.

"We've got this!" she bellowed. "Get her out of here!"

Danse didn't need telling twice. His limbs ached and screamed, his vision spinning, but he stomped on as Sarah struggled against him, throwing rocks from a bundle in her arms back at the mutants. Danse slipped and tripped his way across the settlement and kicked the door to the building open, ducking inside and setting Sarah down. She tried to pull away from him, but he held on as tight as he dared.

"Let me go! Let me go!"

"Sarah-"

"I said let me go!" She beat her small fists on his armour.

"Enough!" Danse winced as she flinched and cowered, but he didn't let go. "You have to stay here. If you don't, you will die. Do you understand that?"

"They killed my dad!" Her eyes were brimming with tears. "You said they killed him! You said they were animals! I want to kill them too!"

Did she really take my words so much to heart? Danse shook his head. He'd think about that later. "Yes, they did, and I understand that, but you aren't strong enough right now. We are here. We will kill them. Anything else will be a waste of your life. Would your father want you dead on his behalf?" Sarah didn't answer. She sat quietly for a moment and then burst into tears, clinging onto Danse. It was one of those rare moments where he didn't know what to do. His head hurt. He had to help Quinn. He had to kill the scum outside. But he couldn't leave Sarah alone like this.

"Sarah?" Arlen Glass ran inside, crowbar ready to strike. He dropped it as he saw Danse. "Is she hurt?"

"No, but she needs looking after. Stay here. Help her." Danse peeled Sarah away from him and handed her to Glass. She took one look at the older ghoul and buried her face in his shoulder. Good. He stood up and felt the room spin, forcing him to grab hold of a nearby work surface.

"Are you alright?" Glass asked, patting Sarah's back while he frowned at Danse.

"Fine." Danse mumbled, staggering back outside. The fight was still raging on. He ran back as fast as he could manage, ignoring the urge to vomit, searching the floor for a new weapon. Instead he found a ghoul, covering in blood and lying curled up in a ball, whimpering. Danse looked down at him, back up at the mutants, and then grabbed the ghoul, dragging him back to the building. "See what you can do for him," Danse said, setting down the ghoul next to Glass.

"I...I don't know anything like that," Arlen stammered.

Danse paused, glanced back at Quinn – who was using a super mutant's face as a punching bag – and hesitated. The ghoul continued to whimper in little, breathy intervals; he knew what Quinn would want him to do. He set to work, ripping open the ghoul's shirt and opening the basic medical set on his armour. A rag was placed between the ghoul's teeth to bite down on, and then, using a pair of special, elongated forceps, he removed the bullet in question. Glass held the ghoul down while he worked, and watch with a pale face as Danse cleaned the wound as best he could, injected a stimpak into the affected area, and then dressed the injury to stem the bleeding. The ghoul patient had fainted twice during the procedure, but now he was awake, sweat pouring down his face as he looked up at Danse with alert eyes.

Danse ignored him. He had wasted enough time here. He needed to get back to the fight. Dragging himself to his feet, he strode for the door. The world jolted out of his control, everything becoming a violent blur, and he found himself crashing to his knees. The need to vomit was overwhelming and the floor wouldn't stop moving. Sarah shrieked from somewhere far away, but it didn't seem important. Was he concussed? Probably. It didn't matter. He had to keep going. He had...

His surroundings lurched forward, the ground flying towards him far too quickly. Everything went black.

Danse?

He could feel a smooth cool surface beneath his fingers, hard, comforting...he twitched his hand, waiting for the familiar clunk of his armour, but heard nothing except the click of his own wrist. With a groan, he tried to open his eyes, but the light above sent shockwaves of pain through his head. Better to keep them shut for now. "Where's my armour?" he murmured.

"Danse?" A pair of hands gripped at his shoulders, tight, digging their nails in. He lifted an arm of lead and touched them. They felt soft beneath his palms. The hands relaxed a little. "Danse, are you okay?"

"Light is a bit bright...turn it down..."

"Cut the lights!"

There was a click and Danse sensed the darkness wash over him. Bliss. He finally forced his eyes open, to find himself flat on his back, Quinn leaning over him, her frantic features highlighted by the dim glow of the lights outside. It hurt too much. He closed them again. "Sorry. I tried to get back out, but..."

"Don't be sorry," Quinn said, her voice cracking. "If it wasn't for you...you know, no one died? You took out most of them with that explosion."

"I have my moments."

Quinn laughed and hugged him carefully, smiling as he gave her a clumsy pat on the back. When she righted herself again, she saw he'd opened his eyes once more, though they looked unfocused. "Deirdre used to be a nurse, before the war. She says you've got a concussion, but that it's not serious. According to Glass you were only out for about five minutes, but she wanted to wait for you to wake up again before we gave you this." Quinn held up a stimpak. "It'll have to be injected into your head."

Deirdre joined them, taking the stimpak off Quinn and bustling over Danse. There was an unpleasant noise as the needle went in at the base of the neck angled up towards the skull, and she saw him clench his fist tightly with a grunt. All at once, his body slackened. Deirdre cleaned off the needle and threw it into a nearby bucket. "He'll be a bit funny for a few minutes while the stim kicks in, but then he'll be as right as rain."

"A bit funny? Since when do stimpaks make you high?"

"No, it's nothing to do with the stim. It's just the way his head injury will clear up. A concussion is soft tissue damage, brain injury. Nothing to laugh about."

"He's brain damaged?"

"No, no. It sounds a lot worse than it is, sorry. All you need to know is he'll start talking shit for about five minutes while the stimpak does its work, and then he'll be fine." Deirdre smiled. "I'll leave you two alone while I see to Jones. He took a nasty shot, but your tin can friend here patched him up alright." She swept away.

Danse stared up at the ceiling, eyes still unfocused, a huge grin on his face. "This is a good place to be," he slurred.

"Why?" Quinn asked, resisting the desire to giggle.

"Here...with you. Killing mutants. Saving your son. Doing good. Reminds me when I first joined. Not responsible for the death of my people. Just...doing my job." A look of sadness fell onto his face like a shadow. "I hope Krieg is proud of me."

"He will be," Quinn replied, her stomach churning. She contemplated taking his fingers and squeezing them, but decided against it. The ring at her neck was burning her for the thought. She sat in silence with him until his eyes drooped shut and almost immediately snapped open again. Danse sat up, rubbing his face, and looked down at his body.

"Where's my armour?"

Quinn pointed to the doorway, Danse's armour in a horizontal heap on the floor, the back cracked wide open. With her help, he stood up and wandered over, inspecting the damage. Despite its new, soot-black coating, the power armour was relatively unscathed. His rifle, however, was another matter. Most of the metal had fused together, and when he opened it up, several of the key components were ruined. He didn't say much as Quinn pulled up his armour whilst inside her own, but once he had climbed inside it, he seemed to cheer up. He stomped around the perimeter with Quinn's rifle, checking the bodies of each and every super mutant, adding another bullet to their heads for good measure, and then dragging them away from the settlement and out into the wasteland. Quinn tried to help him, but he waved her away. "Go talk to them and check there's nothing else before we leave."

Apparently, Wiseman didn't seem to think so. He shrugged, beaming at her. "I think that's it. They're dead, we're safe. I don't know how we can ever repay you."

"Just..." Quinn shot Danse a guilty look; he was just visible on the horizon. "Just remember that the Minutemen helped you. That's all." The Minutemen...the Minutemen would have been slaughtered. Without Danse, without the power armour, the settlement would have been nothing more than a meat house for the mutants. There was a lump in her throat, which only increased when Wiseman said they would be forever in the debt of the Minutemen.

Things were quiet as Danse and Quinn walked west, their helmets tucked beneath their arms. He didn't seem to remember what he'd said to her whilst he'd been lying on the floor, and she had no intention of reminding him. It was then she noticed he hadn't brought the laser rifle with him. "Where's your gun?"

"You saw the state of it. I can't use it now."

"I know, but I thought you would have at least tried to repair it."

Danse shook his head. "Beyond repair. I left it there as scrap. They gave me one of their old rifles in exchange."

"I'm sure we can find a place that will sell us an old laser rifle," Quinn said. "I'll fix it up for you, if you like."

"Do you know how energy weapons work?"

"No." She flashed him a grin. "But I'm sure I can learn."

"Then...I look forward to the result."

Quinn laughed, and after a moment, he joined in. They continued on, side by side, as dawn began to break over the Commonwealth.

In the dim light of his workshop, Arlen Glass bent over a twisted piece of metal, working furiously. The laser rifle was badly damaged, completely irreparable, but...some components had survived. With the delicacy of a master, he lifted out what he needed, and patched together the rest, before adding them to a toy. The toy he had wanted to finish. Her wound was still fresh after all, and any bit of light he could give, he would. What a surprise it had been, when the paladin had approached him, his bulk seeming to fill every space in the room, and handed him the rifle. He could have kept it. He could have thrown it away or scrapped it for parts himself. Instead, with a confused, uncomfortable look on his face, he had given it away – given it to Arlen. He plucked another piece from the gun and transferred it to its new home, from bad to good. It clicked into place, and he knew he was finished. He sealed the toy up and checked it over, closing his eyes as it made its childish noises. His daughter would have loved it. But if he couldn't provide for her, then very least he could do is make the world a little brighter for someone else.

Clearing his throat, he turned to his open workshop door. "Sarah!"

A/N: So basically I must be insane. I couldn't decide what to do with my day off, so I decided to write another chapter even though I only posted chapter 5 today. Massive thanks to dragonifyoudare for their amazing beta skills.