Way Back Home

"You need to go back."

Quinn rolled her eyes at Danse and forged ahead, ducking past some dead weeds as she scoured the landscape. She had been on edge ever since they'd left Goodneighbor that morning, claiming that the mismatched duo of her and someone wearing the X-01 series would be enough to draw the attention of any passing Brotherhood patrols.

Danse disagreed, but there was no arguing with her. If anything, he was more concerned that she seemed unwilling to follow Maxson's last orders and return to the Prydwen, doing everything from changing the subject to outright ignoring him to avoid the discussion.

"Quinn," he said, stomping to catch up with her.

"Mmm?" Quinn replied, not looking at him. She crouched down, staring intently at the bunker, and then lowered her weapon. "I think it's clear."

"Quinn."

"What?"

"Stop pretending you don't know what I'm asking, Quinn." He loomed over her in his power armour, a move that usually worked well in getting what he wanted.

Quinn stared up at him, unimpressed.

Danse sighed. "You need to go back and help the Brotherhood."

"No, I don't." Quinn straightened up and walked down the hill to the bunker's entrance, edging inside and checking the corners, gun barrel first.

"Yes, you do."

"For the love of—why?" She lowered her weapon and hit the elevator button with her fist, glaring at him. "Why do I need to go back there? Why would I want to go back there? They tried to kill you—turned on you without even attempting to find out your side of the story first. Why would I stay with a group that would just as easily throw me to the wolves as well?"

Because you're human. Because you matter to them, he wanted to say. But Danse knew that would be the foothold Quinn needed to make the argument about him. So instead he said, "Because your absence would be suspect. Whether you know it or not, you've provided a great deal for the Brotherhood. Not only that, but your friends would want to know what happened to you, the same way I wanted to know what happened to Cutler."

He paused as he followed her into the elevator, a lump in his throat, and shook his head. "Maxson could be forced into an investigation of your whereabouts, especially considering how the Prydwen is in the Commonwealth. If they find me, both you and Maxson could be at risk—"

"After everything that's happened, you still care about him?" Quinn said incredulously, lowering her gun.

Danse took his helmet off and nodded. "Some things won't ever change, Quinn."

Quinn opened her mouth as the elevator pinged and the doors slid open, an angry look on her face. Perhaps she was about to call him an idiot. Danse would never know, because at that precise moment, a shrill voice cut through the still air of the bunker.

"Sir?"

Quinn and Danse spun on the spot to see Haylen standing near the old terminal, eyes wide, her mouth trembling.

Danse's stomach dropped. He'd intended to let her know he was still alive, but with the events of the last week or so, Haylen had completely slipped his mind. He stepped out of the elevator, his helmet tucked under one arm as he struggled to think what to say next.

Haylen didn't give him the chance. She flew across the room, her body hitting him with a dull thud as she clung to his armour. Danse tried to remember what he'd done last time this had occurred, but the helmet under his arm prevented him from holding her. Feeling somewhat awkward, he raised a steel-plated hand and patted her carefully on the back.

After a few minutes, Haylen sniffled, "Maxson said you were dead. Said she'd killed you." She gave Quinn a small nod.

"Quite the opposite," Danse replied, and he smiled as Haylen glanced up at him. "I wouldn't be standing here without her."

Haylen let go of him and wiped her eyes, before considering Quinn. Then she gave a smile of her own as she said, "Thank you. Thank you for listening to me."

Quinn shook her head. "I wasn't gonna do it in the first place. I just couldn't openly say so on the Prydwen."

Haylen nodded, but Danse just felt confused. He was missing something here, but before he could dwell on it, she said, "When Maxson gave his story, I feared the worst. But when Quinn didn't come back either, I began to wonder. So I went looking for answers."

Haylen gestured to the newly decorated bunker. "Seeing it like this gave me some hope, but it wasn't until just now that I…"

"How are things on the Prydwen?" Quinn asked, shouldering her rifle and taking a seat at the terminal desk.

"Chaotic. People are starting to whisper because you haven't returned. Maxson's filtered through a rumour that you've gone on another mission for him, but because he went after Danse personally, people are...talking."

Danse shot Quinn an angry look. "You need to go back."

Quinn snorted. "For Maxson? He can burn for all I care."

"If it had been anyone else in command, both of us would be dead," Danse snapped. "I don't think you realise the leniency he showed over this. Or the danger he's put himself in by letting me live."

"He's the Elder! What possible danger could he be in?"

"He's the Elder of the Eastern chapter of the Brotherhood," said Haylen quietly. "Not the entire order. He holds a lot of sway, but he's always at odds with the Elders of the West Coast. If word got out that he let Danse live, not only would there be a risk of a revolt within our own ranks, but the West itself could retaliate...and it might not just be Maxson who is punished."

Quinn said nothing for a few moments, staring at the floor. Then she slammed her fist down on the terminal keyboard. "Fuck!"

She stood up, kicking her chair over and strode across the room, before saying again, "Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck fuck!"

"It's not ideal, I know—" Haylen began, but Quinn interrupted her.

"Of course it's not fucking ideal! It's about as far from ideal as it could possibly get!" Quinn spat, but she paused when she saw the ugly look Danse was giving her. He glared at her for a few seconds longer. Whatever the situation, Haylen didn't deserve to be spoken to like that.

Quinn sighed. "Sorry, Haylen. I shouldn't have...sorry."

"It's alright," Haylen replied lightly, though she looked alarmed. "But I agree with Paladin Danse. The next step is to show willingness to Maxson and take things from there."

Danse winced at his old title. "Haylen, just...just call me Danse."

Haylen blinked and then flushed. "Sorry, sir—I mean—sorry, Danse." She paused. "God, that sounds weird."

Danse laughed and the awkward spell was broken. He turned back to Quinn, and despite the seriousness of their conversation, had to bite back a smirk. She was pulling a face like a molerat eating a tato.

"I don't want to leave you here on your own," she said, folding her arms. "After everything that's happened—"

"We've been over this," Danse said with an edge of exasperation. "I'm fine. I know how to look after myself."

"But who knows how long I'll be gone—"

"I'll stay for a while," Haylen chipped in brightly. "Help you tidy up the place a bit more and drop in when I can." She turned to Quinn. "I'll give him company. Don't worry."

Danse didn't like them talking as if he wasn't there, but if it made Quinn go back, he could tolerate it. He fixed Quinn with a determined stare and nodded. "I'll be alright. But you need to return to the Prydwen."

Quinn glanced from him to Haylen and back again, chewing her lip. Then after a few seconds, she sighed.

"Fine." She marched across the room, picked up a rucksack, and began stuffing it full of ammo.

"Fine," she repeated, zipping open one of its pockets and jamming in a handful of stimpaks from the nearby shelf. When it was full, she shut it again, strode over to her armour, and forced the bag inside a gap on the inside after a brief, but fierce, struggle. Quinn followed, sealing the armour behind her and turning to Danse, picking her helmet up off the table.

"I didn't mean you had to go right now," he said quickly, feeling a jolt of anxiety. Had he come across the wrong way?

Quinn shook her head. "I know, but…" She gave him a small smile to show she wasn't angry at him, and then put her helmet on. "If things with Maxson are riding on me showing my face on the ship, then I better get back and nip things in the bud before they escalate. I'm not letting all my hard work be for nothing."

With that, she strode over to the elevator and ducked inside, hitting the button to take her back up to the surface.

"Stay safe," she said as the doors shut, blocking her from view.

Danse waited until the whir of the elevator faded away, before saying quietly, "You too."

Haylen's knuckles rapped against his armour, making him jump. He glanced down at her and saw she was smiling.

"I'd heard some of the rumours about you and the vault dweller at the police station, but I didn't believe them." She grinned. "Always thought you were too married to the job."

"I didn't realise the rumours had carried that far," Danse said airily, though his cheeks felt hot. "Who told you?"

"Rhys." Her grin widened. "He likes to pretend he's the dedicated soldier, but he's such a gossip."

Despite himself, Danse smirked back. Rhys had always been enthusiastic when it came to the Brotherhood. He reminded Danse of himself, when he had been younger.

Danse paused, a sudden pain in his head. What concept did he have of being younger? For all he knew, his entire past was a fabrication, and he had replaced the original Danse at the whim of the Institute. Quinn had insisted that couldn't be true, given him countless reasons why he was an original and not a spy, and yet...

Perhaps Haylen took his silence for pining, because she suddenly said, "You care about her, don't you?"

Danse thought about the sleepless night Quinn had endured, tossing and turning in their room in the Hotel Rexford, before waking up and calling his name. Her eyes, blank and caught in the haze of sleep, would meet his, and then they would relax, her head hitting the pillow again once she had seen Danse beside her. He would watch over her until the cycle repeated, bitter in the knowledge that he was the cause.

"Danse?"

Danse returned to earth with a bump and gave Haylen an abrupt nod. "I do."

He set his helmet down on the table and walked over to the power armour station, exiting his suit with some difficulty. The X-01 series was slightly taller than his old armour, and he was still adjusting to the differences.

Although he tried his best to pretend he hadn't noticed Haylen's watching eyes, Danse could feel that the conversation with her wasn't over. It didn't matter. Discussions about Quinn were far outside of his comfort zone, even when the other participant was a friend. Especially when that other person was Quinn herself. Clearing his throat, Danse picked up his screwdriver from a shelf and studied his new power armour.

"It's a shame the Brotherhood never managed to acquire the X-01 series," Danse said, more to himself than to Haylen. "The differences between the T-60 series and this are staggering."

Haylen didn't reply, and after a few awkward moments of silence, Danse gave in. He turned to her to find her standing with her arms folded, a knowing look on her face.

"What?"

Haylen hesitated, chewing her lip anxiously, and then gave a weak shrug. "I just...it seems that...well, maybe...do you...do you love...?" She stopped, her face bright red, and dropped her gaze to the floor. "Sorry, sir."

Danse stared at Haylen for a beat, the question throwing him off guard. Then he turned back to his armour and began tinkering in silence, lifting up the plating and inspecting the wiring underneath. The quiet in the room grew, but Danse refused to buckle again.

Eventually, he heard approaching footsteps and he tensed, waiting for her to press on the subject. Instead, Haylen walked over to the shelves, picking up an old T-60 chest mod.

"I know a little bit about the X-01," she said, turning the component over in her hands. "With a bit of work, I think we can adapt the earlier power armour models to fit this one. Any upgrades in particular you're thinking of?"

Danse stared down at the part in her hand, and shot her a grateful look. She smiled and held it out to him, her cheeks still tinged with red.

He took it, surveyed it for a moment, and then said, "I have a few ideas."

"Reporting as ordered, Elder."

"You took your time," Maxson snapped, his eyes twisted into a cold, sharp glare. Everything about his posture suggested a heightened level of stress, and though Quinn could feel his anger, she also sensed the relief, hidden just out of sight.

"You told me to say my goodbyes, sir," Quinn said, holding her ground. "I wanted to ensure everything was dealt with first."

Maxson considered her for a moment and then nodded. "Before we continue, I want to make one thing clear." He shot a look down the corridor, towards the guards that flanked his office, and lowered his voice. "This conversation will be the last time we speak about Danse. As far as the Brotherhood of Steel is concerned, he's dead. Do you understand?"

"What story did you give them?"

"That Danse had already been dealt with by the time I arrived. That the remains were incinerated afterwards, to make sure the job was done. This is the story you will tell too, if anyone asks. Now I say it again: do you understand?"

"Understood."

The relief broke through fully, and his face relaxed, his voice returning to its normal volume. "Good. Of course, Danse's execution creates a missing link in our chain of command."

Quinn froze. Was he saying what she thought…?

He was.

"That traitor held quite an important position with us. I'm certain that you'll make a fine replacement. His quarters and all his possessions are now yours, including his personal suit of power armour. Congratulations, Paladin."

Paladin.

The revulsion was almost too much to bear. Maxson must have planned for this, must have meant to make her Danse's successor, even before Maxson had decided to let him go. As far as the Brotherhood was concerned, the man wasn't even cold in his grave before his murderer leapt into his place.

"I'm honoured, Elder," Quinn said, surprised that she was managing to keep her voice steady. "Though I have to ask...why me when there are so many more experienced soldiers?"

They both knew what she really meant.

Why me after I fought for Danse to live?

Maxson looked as if he was asking himself the same question. Eventually, he said, "A Brotherhood of Steel paladin is the symbol of our organisation: a living embodiment of our morals and our code."

Well, you've picked the wrong fucking person then, thought Quinn. But she let him talk.

"But it is of my personal opinion, that while the doctrine of the Brotherhood encompasses all, a good paladin still shows the capacity for compassion and independent thought. My word is final, but that does not mean I want mindless drones to take charge of my soldiers. The ability to lead does not come from blind obedience.

"You've earned this by your own actions. By proving that whatever your beliefs, you put the best interests of the people around you at the forefront of your mind. The same way your predecessor did...as did mine."

There was a long silence. Maxson stared at her intently, and she could feel him willing her to understand. Quinn fumbled at her lessons with Stephen Cooper, the echoes of Owyn Lyons ringing around her head. But then it was gone, and she was left more confused than ever.

"I trust you won't disappoint your new charges...or me." His face returned to its usual serious mask. "In any event, we still have the Institute to contend with and a lot of work to do before we can begin our final assault. Familiarise yourself with your new duties. You'll have work soon enough. Ad Victoriam, Paladin."

"Ad Victoriam, sir," Quinn said, saluting him. She left as quickly as possible, glad to be away from the wretched man. After everything Danse had done for him, this was the way he was repaid? Everything he owned, everything he was, pawned off to his successor before the dust had settled on the grave of his memory.

Quinn shook her head, the insult bitter in her mouth. Slowly she made her way to the last remaining piece of his life on the ship.

The power armour station floor was empty, Ingram and all her staff still working on Liberty Prime at the airport below. Thankful for the privacy, Quinn approached Danse's suit, which was stood silent and foreboding in the abandoned workshop space.

She remembered the first day she had met him, a hulking figure of dark grey and red steel, throwing himself in front of Rhys to protect his injured squad mate from a charging ghoul. Quinn had nearly left them to their fate. Nick had mentioned once or twice that the Brotherhood didn't like synths, and they were only there to collect a holotape about Eddie Winters. If the Brotherhood had died in the attack, Nick and Quinn could have gotten the tapes, no problem. But then her morals kicked in, and Quinn had stepped in to help, ordering Nick to wait while she talked the Brotherhood around.

Quinn placed a hand on the metal chest place of the armour, her throat tight, the metal cool beneath her fingers. How things had changed...

Only one thing consoled her: Danse would be pleased that she was the one to take his place. Or at least, he would be less distressed than if it was anyone else.

Trying not to dwell on the idea of giving him this news, Quinn headed towards the sickbay: the one place on the ship guaranteed to hold Carson.

To her greatest surprise, Carson was not there.

Instead, she was greeted by the sight of Kapraski, leaning heavily on an exhausted looking Casey, a battered crutch wedged under his left armpit. The mess of the sickbay had intensified since her last visit, empty syringes of med-x scattered amongst piles of papers and open folders. In the corner sat Cade, his head tilted against the back of his chair, mouth hanging open as he snored softly.

Casey shot Quinn a guilty look and then glanced at Kapraski. "Tom, maybe we should take a break. You know Knight-Captain Cade won't be happy if—"

"I don't give a damn what Cade thinks," Kapraski snapped, though he kept his volume low, his eyes briefly flicking towards the doctor. His skin was tinged grey, his hair damp with sweat and plastered to his forehead. "You heard what Kells said. You know I have to get better."

"I know," Casey said softly, and Quinn was struck by how odd it was, seeing the scribe back to her old, gentle self, the ferocity of Boston long gone. Casey paused and then tried again. "Tom, there's no rush. Kells' offer still stands. You have all the time in the wor—"

"I want to get better now," Kapraski snarled.

Quinn was taken aback. She had never thought she'd meet a mellower, kinder person than Preston Garvey until she had encountered Kapraski. Tall and stocky, he was an impressive figure, and yet held such a soft demeanour that he seemed almost out of place in a military organisation like the Brotherhood.

Now every trace of that pleasantness was gone, replaced by an ugly savagery that made him near unrecognisable.

Quinn turned to Casey, silently searching for answers. The scribe gave her a helpless look and then said, "Kells visited a few days ago, after Elder Maxson announced that Danse was dead. He told Tom that because he had shown great skill and bravery in landing the vertibird and ensuring everyone survived, he was being promoted to the rank of Lancer-Knight."

"Congratulations!" Quinn said, though she was now even more perplexed. Why had such good news reduced Kapraski to this?

He answered the question for her immediately.

"When I'm back on my feet again," Kapraski said sourly, glaring down at his missing leg. "I need to get better, and the quicker I can do that, the quicker I can return to work."

"Cade told him that these things take time," Casey went on, shifting her position under Kapraski's weight. "But Tom's adamant that he can do more...even without Cade knowing."

"And you're helping him," Quinn said pointedly. Casey flushed a dark shade of red.

"She doesn't have to," Kapraski said, glaring at Quinn. "I'm not making her help me."

"She knows you'll try to do it yourself if she isn't here," Casey retorted. "She knows you'll just hurt yourself even more if left on your own."

"Oh, give it a rest."

"Don't talk to her like that." Quinn fixed Kapraski with her best scowl, and for a moment, she thought he would back down. Then he bristled with indignation.

"Says who?"

"Says the new paladin aboard this ship, that's who." Quinn hadn't intended to pull rank so quickly, but given the way the conversation was heading… "So button it and sit your ass back down in your bed before you give yourself another injury."

Both Kapraski and Casey paled, their mouths falling open in unison at her words. There was a long silence as the news sunk in.

Casey straightened up, muttering a hurried, "Ma'am," but Kapraski's eyes gleamed with spite, as if looking for a weak spot in her armour. He quickly found it.

"You only got that position because you killed Danse," he snapped, his mouth twisting with malice. "After everything you said at Sanctuary, you just went and—"

"Enough."

Everyone's heads snapped in the direction of Cade, who sat up, his tired face radiating annoyance. All at once, Kapraski seemed to deflate.

"Knight-Captain, I—"

"I don't want to hear it," Cade interrupted, slowly getting to his feet and squaring up to Kapraski. Cade only came up to the other man's chin, and yet Quinn could see he was a force to be reckoned with. Kapraski bowed his head, staring at the floor as Cade's reprimand broke over him.

"She is your senior officer, Lancer. I don't give a damn what your opinions are on her position—they are irrelevant. Elder Maxson has chosen her as his new paladin, and you will respect that to letter. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"If it wasn't for the fact I know this is your current condition talking and not you, I would be reporting you for insubordination. But if I hear you speak to her—or any other officer on this ship—in such a manner again, then amputated leg or not, you will be disciplined. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir."

Cade said nothing for a moment, glowering at Kapraski, and then turned to Quinn. "Ma'am, you still hold authority over this situation. Do you want to take this further?"

Being called 'ma'am' by someone like Cade threw her, and she blinked stupidly for a few seconds before remembering she needed to answer. "Uh, no. That is sufficient, Knight-Captain."

Cade nodded and snapped his head back towards Kapraski, who now looked like he wanted to sink into the floor. The doctor glared at him for a little longer, and then his face relaxed.

"Tom," he said gently, "look at me."

Reluctantly, Kapraski met his eye.

"All of us are here to help you. But to do that, we need you on our side. Get some rest and we'll start your physiotherapy again in the morning. Alright?"

"Alright." Kapraski hung his head again, and with Casey's help, made it back over to his bed. The pain was clear in his face, which went from red to grey faster than Quinn thought possible. He stared at his stump and then said, "I'm sorry, Casey."

"It's fine—" Casey began, but he cut across her.

"No, it's not fine." Kapraski glanced up at her, sweat glistening on his face. "I've been awful to you, and to Liam, and I—"

His voice broke at the mention of Carson's name, and he stopped, clenching his bed sheets in his fists before turning his attention to Quinn. "And I'm sorry Qui—ma'am. I didn't mean what I said. I was just…"

"I know." Quinn smiled at him. "I went through a similar sort of anger myself, not too long ago."

Kapraski looked relieved, and Quinn continued to smile, but her heart felt heavy. Was that what people thought of her now? Would they hate her because they thought she had killed Danse? Think she had gotten the position only for his murder? Or—even worse—would they love her for it instead?

Casey and Quinn took their leave while Cade settled Kapraski down for the night. Only when Quinn was sure she was out of earshot of the open door of the infirmary, did she turn to Casey.

"How long has he been like that?"

"Since the last you were on the Prydwen, ma'am," Casey replied with a long sigh. "Liam's been getting the worst of it."

"You don't need to call me ma'am when it's just us. In fact, I'd prefer it if you didn't."

"Oh." Casey nodded and gave a slight smile. "Good. It's a bit weird, y'know?"

"I know."

They walked in silence for a few minutes, while Casey frowned. Quinn got the impression that Casey wanted to say something, but didn't know how. Quinn waited, unsure if she even wanted to hear it herself.

"Quinn…" Casey said after some time. "Um...about Paladin Danse…"

"Yes?"

"Did he...was he…?" She licked her lips nervously. "There are lots of rumours, but...I wanted to hear it from you, if you don't mind talking about it." Casey paused, and when Quinn nodded, she continued. "Danse...was he a traitor?"

Quinn sighed and shook her head. She could never say the truth, but maybe she could preserve some of his dignity. "No, I don't think so. He didn't know what he really was. He only found out when we did, panicked, and ran. When I caught up to him, he...he wanted to…"

This is Danse, former Paladin of the Brotherhood of Steel, signing off."

"He wanted to go?" Casey finished for her. Quinn nodded, her throat tight. Casey thought on this for a moment and then said, "If it's what he wanted, then you did the right thing."

"Yeah." Quinn stared ahead, the empty feeling returning. She had forced him to stay when he had wanted die. She had made him live. Had she done the right thing, or had she simply extended his suffering because she couldn't let him go?

"Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up," Casey said quickly.

"Where's Carson?" Quinn said, not caring that she was obviously changing the subject. "I thought he'd be glued to Kapraski's side at this point."

"Well, uh…" Casey coughed, looking uncomfortable. "They had a fight yesterday. A really big one. Or as big a fight as those two can have. It wasn't loud or anything, but you could just see in Liam's face that he'd had enough."

Quinn blinked, shocked. "He's had enough?"

"Tom's been a little bit…" Casey gave a vague hand gesture, "difficult lately."

"That's a fucking understatement."

"I know. You saw his behaviour. Triple it and that's probably close to what Liam's been putting up with." Her brow furrowed with worry. "When he was first injured, he seemed to be handling his situation. But as time's gone on, I think it's finally sinking in that he's lost a leg.

"Anything and everything has been Liam's fault as far as Tom is concerned. I don't think Tom really believes it, but Liam's never been any good at handling conflict. He just kind of freezes up, so Tom's been taking everything out on him. But after Kells' visited, he just got...worse. And Liam stood up, said he was done with him, and walked out. He's not been back to sickbay since."

Quinn frowned. That was worrying. "And how's Kapraski taken it?"

"Acts like he doesn't care, that he doesn't need Liam, but…" Casey shrugged. "He's lying. He knows he's messed up big time, but he won't admit it."

Quinn gave a long, weary sigh. She couldn't leave the Prydwen alone for five minutes without the place falling apart. She was tempted to ask about Rachel, but then decided that could wait until after she had resolved whatever was going on with Carson.

"I don't understand, Casey."

"Understand what?"

"Understand you." The two women stopped and stared at each other at the edge of the sleeping area. "You were an absolute demon in Boston. Took down all those mutants without so much as blinking an eye. And you were prepared to...to do the worst if it looked like you were about to be captured. So why is it when you're back here, you become so shy again? Why have you been letting Kapraski treat you like shit?"

"Because that person in Boston," Casey replied quietly, "isn't me. That person isn't who I want to be." She hugged herself, looking small. "Some people thrive in that kind of environment and think good of themselves for it. I have the potential to thrive, but I don't want to. I'll survive when pushed, but that life...that coldness." Casey met Quinn's eye. "I won't be her. Not when I don't have to."

Quinn considered this for a moment, and then nodded, pointing to the beds. "Get some sleep. You look like shit. I'll go see if I can find Carson and sort this mess out."

"I don't know if—"

"Sleep," she said again, and Casey hesitated.

"Alright. If I see him before you do, I'll let him know you're looking for him. 'Night, Quinn."

"Goodnight." She watched Casey trail off towards the sleeping area, and then made her way towards the stairs, carrying Casey's words with her. They gave her hope, in a strange sort of way. Casey was a survivor, through and through. But she hadn't given up who she was either.

Maybe I can come out of all this intact, Quinn thought as she climbed higher through the Prydwen. Maybe I can keep some of who I used to be.

But that could wait. Right now, she had to find Carson. The only other haunt of his she knew of—besides the sickbay—was the top of the ship, the same place she had seen him first kiss Kapraski.

However, Carson was not there either. Frowning, Quinn paced up and down the walkways, scanning the rest of the ship for a glimpse of her friend, but he was nowhere to be seen. The last place she could think of was at the very bottom of the Prydwen. But there would be others down there, with their alcohol and their peep magazines, not at all to the taste of the quiet and sometimes shy knight.

Her worry mounted as she threw one desperate look around the top of the ship. After the way he had fought so hard to save Kapraski's life, to the point of challenging Danse himself, Quinn couldn't imagine Carson simply walking from his relationship. And yet his continued absence hung over her, causing prickles of anxiety across her skin. She had to find him and talk to him—he needed friends now more than ever.

Just as Quinn was making her way back to the stairs, she heard a clang and a panicked voice at the far end of the walkway she was standing on.

"Just stay there. Stay! I'm getting help, alright? I'm getting Cade. I'm getting—no, don't!"

Another bang, and the voice became muffled again.

Instinct told her she had to move fast; Quinn turned around and sprinted the length of the ship to the source of the noise. The door leading to the outer deck loomed into view, the deck where Danse had taken her to listen to Nate's tape so very long ago.

The muted voices grew louder again, and the door flew open, revealing a harassed Carson, fear written across every inch of his face. His eyes locked with Quinn's, and he looked at her like she had descended down from the heavens above.

"Carson, are you—?" Quinn began, alarmed, but he cut across her.

"Quinn, help me!" He shot a glance over his shoulder through the open door, and turned back to her, his breathing sharp and shallow. "Help me. It's...fuck…"

"What?" She tried to peer around him to see what was there, but Carson's frame blocked the deck from view. Under the sound of the howling wind, Quinn could hear crying. "What's wrong?"

Another frantic look behind him.

"Rachel. It's Rachel."

A/N: There may be delays next chapter. I have managed to hurt both my hands, which makes typing very painful. I'm currently resting my hands to see if they improve, but that's putting a delay on writing. Even typing this up right now is causing me pain, so at the moment I won't be able to write a full chapter.

Please check my 'bnc updates' tag on my tumblr to see if next chapter is definitely gonna be delayed or not.

Thank you for your patience with me, and I'm sorry for all the delays.

(Usual thanks to my wonderful beta, waiting4morning!)

Alternative title for this chapter:

"Put That Quinn Back Where She Came From (Or So Help Me)"