Islay Island Dreams

"So, what do you think?" Quinn gave a little twirl as she walked, tripping over her own feet. She stumbled, arms flailing, and staggered forward, righting herself before she ran head first into her own power armour. With the air of a cat that firmly believed it had intended to do that all along, Quinn leaned casually against the armour and raised an eyebrow as she threw a cocky grin at a bewildered Danse. He blinked, and after a beat of silence, started chuckling.

"Where did you find that?" he said when he'd calmed himself down, indicating to her new clothes.

Quinn plucked at the military fatigues. "In a footlocker upstairs. It's a bit big, but it's better than wearing this." She held up the torn, bloodstained vault suit. "There's no way in hell I'd be able to patch that hole up. Shame, really. It has...unpleasant memories attached to it, but…" Quinn let her arms drop, the cuff of the jumpsuit trailing along the floor.

"I could fix it for you."

Quinn shot him an apprehensive look, but the sheer sincerity in his tone made her instantly relax. He wasn't making fun of her. It was enough to make her want to laugh again. "You...you can sew?"

"Yes, I can sew," Danse replied, sounding miffed. It was remarkable how much a man dressed like a tank with legs could look like a wounded puppy when he really wanted to. "The Brotherhood teaches all new recruits to sew. It is imperative that we are able to maintain our own equipment on the field, including our clothes. It's an extremely useful skill, and - why are you still smirking?"

Quinn's shoulders shook with silent laughter as the paladin glowered at her. She couldn't help it. Everything about it, from his indignant defensiveness to his embarrassed annoyance, reminded her of the day Nate had come home from work and tried to sneak his brand new sewing kit through the house without her noticing. She had taken it and hidden it where he had left his screwdriver lying in the kitchen, so naturally he couldn't find either of them until he begrudgingly asked her for help.

Without thinking, she paused for breath and said, "Nate, I-"

An awkward quiet fell over them. There was a heavy, cold sensation in the pit of Quinn's stomach, expanding and freezing all it touched. She shook her head, opening and closing her mouth, but words failed her. Mercifully, the paladin didn't comment on her mistake.

"When we return to the Prydwen, I'll patch the hole for you," Danse said quietly, "if you want."

Quinn nodded, feeling as though her chest would burst with gratitude. "Yeah." She paused. "I'd like that. Thank you." She looked down at her Pip-Boy, tracing her finger around the section where the holotape was nestled, waiting to be activated.

"Would you like me to leave you alone?" Danse was looking uncomfortable now, as if he'd intruded on a wake.

"No, I'd rather you stay." She walked past him, dropping herself onto the bed, and picked up the vodka. As she unscrewed the top, Quinn saw his slight frown, but he said nothing; it seemed there were some hurts he was willing to let her soothe with alcohol.

Quinn cradled the bottle, letting the acrid smell burn her nostrils before swigging from it. She coughed, hating the taste, but loving the warmth that spread through her chest, like a greeting from an old friend. "I used to drink a lot, you know," she said, taking another mouthful with a grimace. "Not as a way to cope, but just because I liked the burn. Whiskey was always the favourite; I felt like I could do anything with whiskey. I had a cabinet full of all the finest brands I could afford, and Nate even ordered me a bottle from Islay when we found out I was pregnant with Shaun."

"He bought you alcohol when you were pregnant?"

"Yeah, his idea of a joke. He knew I'd wanted to try Islay for years, but I'd never gotten around to it. So as soon as Nate realised I couldn't drink, a bottle of the stuff arrives on our doorstep. He presented it to me with such a shit-eating grin." Quinn smiled at the memory. "The ass. I never even got to try it; I was too tired looking after Shaun, and then the bombs…" Quinn sighed. "He could sew, too. That's why I was laughing at you - you remind me of him a little."

Danse stepped closer, looming above her in his armour. "Tell me about him." He paused and then added hurriedly, "If you're comfortable to do so, that is."

Quinn breathed out through her nose, mulling over her thoughts. Tell Danse about Nate? Where could she even begin? "I guess a good place to start would be how we met." Quinn stretched out her legs and looked up to the ceiling, gathering the memories in her mind. "I'd gone out with my friends for a few drinks, and we bumped into a group of cadets." She meant this literally. As it turned out, doing excessive jazz hands all the way up to the bar was a surefire way to get someone's beer spilt down her favourite dress. That someone had been Nate.

She continued, "He was tall. Dark. Handsome. You know the cliche. But a little on the skinny side. Not my usual type, but…" Quinn laughed. "He ripped his own t-shirt trying to wipe his drink off me, and he was so embarrassed, even though it had technically been my fault. I couldn't help but get him another drink to make up for it. Mark - my ex - he dumped-sorry, he had ended our relationship the week before, and I'd sworn never to touch another man for as long as I lived. Well, that promise went out the window pretty quickly. By 3am, I had my arms wrapped around his neck, dancing to Etta James, both of us wearing matching fruitbowl hats being sold by the bar. My friends wouldn't stop teasing me for weeks."

"That sounds...colourful," Danse said, looking slightly bemused. "Were all pre-war courtship rituals like that?"

"Nah, but Nate and I were a special case, I think. Everything we did ended up being completely ridiculous, despite our best intentions. Like our first date. He took me to the Swan Pond in Boston. They'd just pushed the boat out onto the water, and Nate bent down to pull out a bottle of champagne he'd hidden in his coat, just as I moved to take my seat. His ass hit my hip and knocked me straight off the boat. Christ, I was mortified."

Danse was laughing, a mischievous little grin on his face. Any second now, Quinn felt like he would present her with a bottle of Islay. Her chest hurt at the thought, so she pushed it away and continued. "Nate, though...he jumped straight in after me, waving the champagne in the air, and sat down in the pond at my side. Opened the bottle there and then and offered it to me, since he'd left the glasses on the boat. The staff weren't exactly impressed, but we ignored them and took a few swigs. Then he picked me up bridal style, still holding the damn champagne, and waded back out. Got a bit of applause from the park-goers and everything, as well as a free drink each from the little cafe by the water."

"A roaring success then?"

"You know what? I think it was." What others may have considered a bad date became the foundations for their relationship. No matter how rough or stupid things became, they always had each other's backs, through and through. She told Danse as such. "But Nate was that kind of man. He was always there for me when I needed him the most, even after he joined the army properly. He became a lot more serious then; always about the job, always focused, always had his mind on the next task, never relaxing or stopping to consider himself.…" Quinn sighed, running a hand through her hair. "My father didn't help matters much, either. He was an old-fashioned man. He didn't like that Nate was...black."

Danse blinked at her. "Black what?"

"Black skin."

More silence. Quinn could practically hear the cogs ticking in Danse's head. Eventually, he spoke. "I don't understand."

"Me neither." It had been a very outdated view, something her dad had clung to long after the rest of society had moved on, but it had caused problems all the same. Her dad had been absolutely fine with black people until his white daughter became engaged to one, and then suddenly there had been a problem. "My mother always said I had the patience of a saint for putting up with dad's bullshit, but really, the one who turned the other cheek was Nate; he stayed polite, stayed the bigger man. My dad got over himself eventually, but I don't think I ever really forgave him for it. Nate did, or at least, he acted like he did. I don't really know for sure."

Quinn stared out past Danse, lost in thought. After the wedding, she hadn't bothered with her dad. Her parents had been divorced, so she could visit her mother without ever having to see him.

Had he died alone on the day of the bombs, sat in his grotty living room, a beer in one hand? She would probably never know. "My dad was a damn bigot, and Nate endured him for my sake."

"Your husband was a good man," Danse said gruffly.

"He was," Quinn agreed. She tapped her fingers on the case of the Pip-Boy absentmindedly, when suddenly an idea came to her.

"I could talk about him all day...or I could just let him speak for himself." She held her arm aloft, the green light of the Pip-Boy highlighting Danse's kaleidoscopic expression. It flitted from confusion, to dawning realisation, and finally uncertainty.

"Soldier, I…" Danse coughed, shifting on the spot in discomfort. "That's your private...I mean, I would be honoured if you shared, but...I...are you sure?"

Quinn didn't even have to think about it. She smiled and nodded. "I'm sure."

"Then...the answer is yes."

Quinn navigated to the tape, the familiar whirr and click sending pangs of loss and love through her body, a current that drowned her in sorrow. When it began to play, she listened, mouthing each word without realising. She pictured Nate holding Shaun in his arms, jigging him up and down as he talked. Her eyes stung and she blinked fiercely to stave off the tears. How long had it been now? How many times had she heard this? The pain should have lessened by now, but it still felt as fresh as the day she had emerged from the vault. Danse stood completely still, stony-faced, as the tape babbled on. Quinn watched him, noticing again how exhausted he looked. Yet here he was, taking care of her. Supporting her. Standing by her. It suddenly occurred to her that for the first time ever, she didn't feel quite so lonely and lost at the sound of Nate's voice.

"...Bye, honey. We love you."

There was that quiet again. Quinn almost didn't want to fill it; the echo of Nate would be lost if she did. She traced the corners of the Pip-Boy screen with her finger. Less than a week ago, she had been playing that tape multiple times a day. When was the last time she had stopped to listen to Nate's voice? Since the Prydwen? Since she had been taken to the ship's exterior by Danse and left to her thoughts?

"I'm sorry for your loss, soldier."

Quinn started, coming back to Earth with a bump. She looked up at the paladin to see him staring down at her, a mixture of pity and concern written across his features. He stepped even closer, crouching down on one knee, finally making himself level with her. "Truly, I am. I knew that you were grieving, but…" He seemed to grapple with his words. "I'm sorry. I've never been any good at this kind of talk. I just...he was a good man, and you clearly loved him very much. And…" He stopped, a deer caught in headlights, and made a vague gesture with his hand.

"Thank you," Quinn said, and she meant it. He struggled with his words, but he made the attempt anyway, and she felt nothing but gratitude for it. "Seriously, thank you. It helps to talk about it,and if someone else knows what kind of person he was, what he sounded like, what he was; it makes him still feel...real."

"You… you're welcome." The red was creeping back into his skin again. They stared at each other in silence for a few moments, and then Danse stood up and took a step back, glancing around the room. "Still a few more hours until dawn. I don't think it will be safe to move until then; daylight will provide us with maximum visibility to spot any-"

"Danse."

"Yes, soldier?" He turned to her.

"When was the last time you slept?" She folded her arms and stood up.

"Is that important right now?" His heavily shadowed eyes did not meet hers, and he started to inspect the old rifle the ghouls had given him.

"Yes. When was the last time you slept?"

"...I'm not sure. The Slog, I think. But it's irrelevant; someone has to keep watch until morning, and as your senior officer-"

"Yeah, and that someone will be me." She walked towards him, arms still folded, adopting the stern motherly tone she had reserved for Nate when he used to stay up too late in his shed.

"But-"

"To quote someone wise," Quinn said, trying not to laugh as Danse's face scrunched up like a pug at her constant interruptions, "you're tired. How do you expect to fight anything in your state?"

"That is not the same thing," Danse huffed.

Quinn perked an eyebrow. "Oh, isn't it?" She stared him dead in the eye and then made a long, deliberate yawn. Danse's face twitched, eyebrows knotting together in concentration as he fought to keep his mouth shut. Quinn moved closer and yawned again, louder this time. The paladin broke, covering his mouth with a steel plated hand as he let out an even longer, louder yawn than anything Quinn had produced.

Quinn grinned triumphantly and pointed at the bed. "Lie down, Paladin. You know I'm right."

With an exasperated noise, Danse set down his weapon and began the task of climbing out of his armour, taking about five minutes longer than he normally did. Quinn tapped her foot noisily until he finally stood free, still towering over her despite being about a foot shorter now. Throwing her an irritated look, he loped over to the bed and settled on it, drumming his hands on his legs. When Quinn continued to stare pointedly at him, he muttered to himself and lay down, pulling himself under the sheets. Quinn smiled to herself and opened up her power armour with no difficulty. By the time she had climbed inside and picked up her gun, Danse had already drifted off to sleep.

It had been hard not to watch Danse while he slept. For starters, he was a lot more interesting than the ghoul corpses and pre-war skeletons scattered all over the place. But it was also how he held himself while he wasn't conscious. Gone was the rigid posture and frown of concentration, the lines of his face smoothed out to faint creases. Perhaps what Quinn found most peculiar was his position; curled up tight into a ball, arms shielding his face as he slept. Quinn observed him for a while, lost in thought. He had mentioned that he didn't sleep well, but as far as she was concerned, he had gone out like a light and hadn't moved for about three hours. Not only that, but he had been adamant about staying awake, despite giving her the third degree for the same thing earlier.

You are a mystery, Paladin, she thought, watching the rise and fall of his chest.

Suddenly, Danse's relaxed face knotted into a frown. His arm started to twitch, only slightly at first, but becoming more aggressive with every passing second. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and he began mumbling to himself as his breathing quickened and his fists clenched and unclenched. Realisation clicked in her head and she stomped over, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him. "Danse! It's just a dream! Don't-"

Danse lashed out, his yell of panic becoming one of pain as his fist struck the chestplate of Quinn's armour. His eyes bulged and he clutched his hand close to his stomach, head bowed forward, unable to speak. Eventually, he let out a low groan and looked up at her.

"Are you alright?" Quinn asked. It was a stupid question, but she couldn't think of anything else to say.

"Fine, but I've slept enough." Danse kicked his way out of the sheets, still clutching his swollen hand, and stood up. If anything, he looked worse than before. The shadows under his eyes were still present, and his pale skin hada sheen of sweat glistening over it.

He glanced to the window and nodded. "First light. It's time we moved on." Without another word, he stalked over to his power armour. Opening the valve with one hand, he gingerly clambered inside, making small hissing noises between his teeth as he flexed out his arms. Then he picked up his rifle and stomped off, not so much as glancing back at her. Quinn jogged to catch up and followed him through the double doors that led outside.

The sun felt offensively bright after the darkness of the barracks; Quinn squinted through the glare, realising they were shut in by another metal fence and maglock door combination. Danse gestured with his gun towards the terminal, and she immediately started working on it. It didn't take long to crack, and the door opened.

"Good work, soldier," Danse murmured, raising his rifle defensively as he edged out into the open. He threw his hand back when Quinn tried to follow. "Wait. Let me scout the area. If anything should happen, head back inside." He moved forward, slowly, carefully, his weapon darting from side to side as he scanned the horizon. After a few moments, he relaxed and signalled for her to join him.

With Quinn at his side, they edged around the building, heading south, while Danse whispered to her. "Just past County Crossing, there's a bridge that will take us towards Boston. Provided we aren't being followed by the deathclaw, we can follow the riverbank and then take the bridge directly into Diamond City to resupply before we head north-west to your destination."

"Why Diamond City for a supply run? What about Goodneighbor?"

Danse shifted uncomfortably. "As you know, the Brotherhood and the ghoul population of the wasteland do not have an...ideal relationship. While I don't doubt we would get what we need in Goodneighbor, I wouldn't trust its quality."

"We could leave our power armour outside the city and go in posing as civilians."

"Would you leave your armour unattended near Goodneighbor?"

Quinn was about to argue that one of them could stay hidden with the armour, even though she was beginning to see his point, when Danse suddenly stopped and held up a hand, causing Quinn to freeze in place. In the distance, a feral ghoul was picking its way through a pile of rubble. It sniffed the air, moved aside a few pieces of concrete, and then crawled off in the opposite direction of where they were standing. Danse waited until it was out of sight and then began moving again. Quinn looked at the map on her HUD, frowning.

"Danse," she said in a low voice, "can't we skip the resupply altogether and just head north? Diamond City is a massive detour to make."

Danse shook his head. "Negative. We are dangerously low on medical supplies. Another injury without proper kit could mean the death of one of us, or both. I won't have another Worwick on my hands."

"Worwick?"

"He's a- he was a knight under my command. He succumbed to his injuries despite our best efforts. If we had had better medical supplies at hand, perhaps things may have been different. But as it stands…" He sighed. "Now is not the time to discuss this. We head south into Boston with the intention to resupply at Diamond City. After that, we can reassess the situation and move on from there. Agreed?"

Quinn nodded. "Agreed."

"Excellent. Then let's move out."

A/N: Thank you to synthbutts (oolala) on tumblr for their invaluable beta services! And thank you for the reviews, everyone! It makes my day to see people are enjoying this story. :)