Note: Well, I counted chickens. Not the last chapter.

Ruby laid her hand on the leg plating and leaned her head into the power armor, closing her eyes and feeling the sickness in her stomach not abating. She knew it was nerves―couldn't do a damn thing about that. Danse's small talk went unnoticed as she tried to collect herself enough to finish the repair work.

He wandered off after a moment, probably to go patrol or something. Always was out walking about, on his own. She'd tried to encourage him to spend more time talking to the others, but he was still coming to terms with himself. One could only do so much, even with someone who―by all rights―had earned his place in the settlement.

Ruby felt the metal warming up under her forehead. She reminded herself to stop thinking about Danse, and start about the coming fight. She had no idea what to expect. She didn't even know what the Institute really looked like. Once they got inside, would it―she paused, staring blankly at the dull metal of the leg plating. Would it be like the parts she had seen? What sort of combat could she expect? Would the scientists fight, or would it be nothing but synths?

She couldn't believe it was the time, now. To deal with everything. Time to go in and let loose on the monsters under the C.I.T. ruins, to get rid of it all. To remove Shaun...

Where would Shaun go, if she forced the people in the Institute out? If he even wanted to leave. God, that... she hadn't actually thought about that. What was she going to do with him, after clearing out the synths? She shuddered. If she had to kill him―

"You know he's in love with you?" MacCready said, all of a sudden. He'd moved up behind her, crouched down as close as he could get, and was rubbing his nose when she tilted her head in his direction.

"Who?" she asked, frowning. Her thoughts had been so dramatically interrupted...

"The tin can." MacCready didn't look pleased, his face drawn downward. "Said he's in love with you."

Ruby closed her eyes again, leaning more weight on the power armor. "Okay," she muttered. Right now, that was so far down the list of things to worry about, she couldn't be bothered to react.

"How come you didn't pick him?" MacCready sounded downright mad, now.

Ruby pulled away from the power armor and stared at him, her eyebrows drawn together and frowning deeply. "How―what?" She squinted at MacCready, confused.

"How come you didn't pick him," MacCready repeated. "You're taking him to the Institute. You left him follow you around the settlement all the time. Danse is your sidekick, not me. How come you picked me?"

Ruby looked at him, her face registering a series of bewildered and annoyed looks. "MacCready―" she started. She sat back on her heels and pulled herself up, looking down at him as he stood. "I told you. I want you. Not Danse. The last thing I need is―some bossy jerk with existential angst, pushing me to my limit and setting me off in the middle of important stuff."

"So why are you taking him to the Institute?" MacCready crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her.

"Because that jerk values my hide as much as I do," Ruby groaned, rubbing her side where she'd been hit by the Deathclaw. Still hurt, a little. Hancock's wasteland surgery was lacking in finesse, but at least she'd survived. "I trust him to cover me in combat. And I know he'll do his damnedest to destroy synths. Danse has a personal stake in this, MacCready. Neither you nor I have the right to take that away."

MacCready's angry expression faltered some, and he dropped his arms. "I don't like this," he muttered, looking away. "Don't want you to get hurt."

"R.J.," Ruby replied, her voice more confident than she felt in her heart. "If you went, and you died, then Duncan wouldn't have anyone left. You grew up that way. Would you wish that on him?" She watched his eyes drop to the ground. "I will get hurt, but with Danse at my side―with the Minutemen behind me, with..."

Her voice started to wobble. She swallowed and composed herself before continuing. "...With someone to come back to," she went on. "You don't realize how important that is. Having someone to come back to―after―" she closed her eyes, feeling the emotion lumping in her throat.

"I know," he said, his own voice sounding very weakened.

"I came into this world with no one left." Ruby opened her eyes and looked at him, letting her frustration and sadness show. "Everything was gone. I'd lost Nate. I'd lost Shaun. I gained... so much more, looking for him, and then I lost him again. You..." She stifled a sob, putting a hand to her mouth. "You would be leaving Duncan like that, too―"

MacCready grabbed her, pulling her into a hug. He crushed her to his chest, leaning his head down on her shoulder and rubbing his nose into her Vault suit. Ruby moved her arms around him and sighed, pushing her head into his shoulder and letting the sob she'd been fighting show.

"I love you," she mumbled, burying her face in his ratty coat. "You can't go, I won't let you."

"I love you, too," he replied, his breath against her neck hot. "I don't want you to go."

"Don't ever let Duncan go," she whimpered. "Don't ever―"

MacCready squeezed her tighter, shaking his head as he lifted it. "Never," he promised, his breathing coming in fast little puffs. "Never."

"I'll come back," she strained out, digging her fingers into his back. "I mean that. I will. I'll―"

"Ruby―"

They stood there for a moment, the silence drawing out and holding each other. Ruby could care less who got an eyeful of this show. MacCready never had, she thought. Her ears started to hurt with the pressure building up in her head. Needed to let it out, but...

"Can I kiss you goodbye?" he asked, his voice trembling, but teasing underneath.

"Am I still that hard to read?" she sputtered, still trying to contain her crying.

"Always," he breathed, but moved a hand up to her head, cupping her cheek and pulling her away from his shoulder. "But I'm learning."

Ruby choked back a distressed laugh, feeling the swell in her chest and trying not to lose herself right then and there in a spill of tears. "Learn quicker, please," she stammered, looking up at him and putting on a difficult smile.

One corner of MacCready's mouth curled up and he leaned in, pulling her face into his for a kiss. Ruby sighed, grabbed the sides of his head, and kissed him, desperately. For all she knew, she really wasn't coming back alive―

Down the rabbit hole. Ruby led the way through winding back-way tunnels, seeing the devastation to this part of the Institute. At a junction in the tunnels, she'd been forced to leave her power armor behind, which relieved her. It was so hard to move around in the armor―

Danse followed her, dutifully. He said nothing to her other than standard combat direction and his normal Brotherhood banter. It was comforting to hear him triumphantly saying, "Ad Victoriam!" when they'd fought off so many synths and turrets. She regretted that Danse had turned out to be a synth; he was an excellent soldier and she would have stayed in the Brotherhood if not for―

Ruby shook the thought from her head and focused on the fighting. Didn't need to get distracted, now. It was too important.

She managed to keep herself from getting terribly wounded until they got into the Institute proper. Slid down the wall by the door, as they entered a more modern and clean-looking area, clutching at herself and wondering why she kept taking hits to the abdomen. Winced at herself, applying pressure to her stomach. One hand went to her chest, popping open a pouch on the leather strap, trying hard to ignore the seeping feeling as the blood oozed around her fingers. Not to mention the pain. Even the Deathclaw attack on the roof hadn't been this painful.

"Ruiz!" Danse turned, kneeling down awkwardly in his power armor and lowering his rifle. "Are you―"

"I got it," she muttered, stabbing herself with the stimpak.

"You should stay behind me," he said, firmly. "My armor can provide cover, if you utilize it."

"I'm alright," she said, sorely, watching her side stop bleeding. "I just need to sit here for a moment."

"Ruiz," he said, again, but with more concern lacing his voice. She glanced up at him, saw his eyebrows drawn together. Her eyes dropped back to her hand and she peeled it away from her skin. The pain had gone away, but the feeling of the semi-coagulated blood sticking to her hand and seeing the sticky strings of blood made her a bit nauseous.

She leaned her head back against the wall, watching Danse's expression out of the corner of her eye. His jaw was moving―looked like he was grinding his teeth―and his eyebrows were still pulled together over dark eyes.

Danse really did have a very handsome face, she thought, offhand. He was nice to look at. She supposed he was made that way, on purpose. Built to be perfect. The best soldier,the best replacement, the best spy... the anger inside her, building up against the Institute, against Shaun, against the bastards that put Danse into place, finally settled in her head. She was right to bring him here. He needed this fight.

Ruby smiled at him, glad he was concerned. "I'll live, Danse. Don't worry," she poked at him.

He dropped the worried look for one of perplexion. "Do not push yourself," he said, in a strange voice, pushing himself up from the floor and moving down the hallway a bit.

She breathed out, slowly, then grabbed her rifle and stood. Thank God for stimpaks, she thought. She moved forward and lifted the rifle, nodding at Danse. "You ready to do this?" she asked, noticing the wavering nature of his face.

"I have trained for this moment my entire life," he said, his tone becoming dire toward the end. "If nothing else, I must prove that isn't a lie."

Ruby nodded and hit the door release with a fist, as hard as she could.

The fight was hectic, even with the Minutemen providing support. Danse focused on what he'd been taught, taking out the enemy and providing suppressing fire for Ruiz as she swept through the entirety of the place. It was a whole different world inside the Institute―the pristine interior clashed with his memories of living in Rivet City, the ramshackle places he'd visited throughout the wastes, even the marvel that was the Prydwen.

For a moment, he wondered how his birth had been achieved. How he had been made, how he'd... He did not wish to dwell on such things. Danse turned and dealt with another synth, seeing Ruiz breathing hard and noting the sweat on her brow. She was bleeding along her hairline, blood seeping into her eye, and a laser burn through the knee of her suit was evident.

Minutemen streamed around her, calling out to each other and surrounding their General―Paladin General Ruby Ruiz, leader of the Minutemen and former aspirant to the Brotherhood of Steel―and though he was not satisfied that she'd given up her pursuit of a career with the Brotherhood, he knew she would do just as well with this group of dedicated protectors.

The main body of the enemy appeared to have been eradicated, shortly after the Minutemen swelled around their leader. Ruiz moved out from the impromptu shield of bodies, heading for a stairwell. Danse followed, his footsteps loudly echoing through the Institute. A hushed conversation between the Minutemen and Ruiz left them guarding the stairs as she hobbled upward.

She was limping up the stairs, one bloodied hand on the railing leaving a trail. Danse could hear an odd snapping noise as she put her injured leg down, hear her swear in a high-pitched voice. His hand shot out as she fell, grabbing her by the back of her collar. Ruiz made a horrible choking noise, her arms jerking forward as she grabbed at the stairs for purchase.

"I am sorry―" he said, lowering her gently.

She coughed, interrupting him, and shook her head. "It's fine," she said, her voice distant. She remained on the stairs for a long time, on her hands and knees, breathing slowly.

He wasn't sure of this... somewhat apathetic attitude toward her own health, but it wouldn't be in their best interest to remain in this spot. Danse removed a stimpak from his storage compartment and swiftly jabbed her with it, startling her. She looked back at him, confused and alarmed. Danse tossed the injector, pulled her up onto her feet, and gestured to the floor above them.

"Let's go," he said. "I know you might not wish to face the outcome but I, for one, am keen to see this ended."

Ruiz's eyes moved over his, and she grabbed the railing again. Slowly, she nodded. He could see she was blinking back tears, even though her face was empty of everything else.

"Let's find that terminal," she said, blankly.

The trip up to the next floor was full of silence. Ruiz led him into a room similar to the rest, her footfalls stopping at the sight of an elderly man in a specialized bed. The man turned his head slowly to face her, looking tired as only the dying could.

Danse respectfully kept himself back, watching the interchange. Ruiz started to cry, turning her head away from the older man, putting a hand to her mouth, and trembling. "Why are you here, Mother?" the man asked.

This was Shaun. Danse turned his eyes from them, tilting his head down. This was not what she'd thought to find. This was not her infant son, nor was he the ten-year old she'd expected from Kellogg's memories. This was not even the adult that Danse had thought she'd referred to, in the past.

This was an aged man on the cusp of death itself, stubbornly holding onto life to see the goals of his twisted organization to fruition. It was no wonder that Ruiz had evinced as much pain as she had, when she first arrived in the Institute.

The ache he felt inside grew intense as Ruiz spoke to him, her sorrow plain as day. She begged of Shaun to help her help those who could be spared. Her words were plaintful, but she was successful in her persuasion.

Danse turned his back onto the scene, breathing slowly through his mouth and trying to put the agony from his head. MacCready had been wrong to assume he could not feel; those emotions he had a difficult time with only made him feel and act more human, and those emotions had been put into place by this―this Father, the man once known as Shaun, who caused Ruiz pain as well.

He did not know how long he stood there, but he was aware that Ruiz had come up beside him. She placed a hand on his arm, and moved to look at him. "Danse," she whispered, sniffling a little, but otherwise more composed than she had been. "We've got to go."

He realized that she'd set everything into motion while he was avoiding the strain―felt ashamed of himself, then. He nodded at her, gripping his rifle more tightly.

They moved onto the reactor. He was thankful that the hardest part of the mission was over.

He was wrong. As soon as the two of them hit the top of the elevator and moved into the teleportation area, intent to leave the Institute, Ruiz paled and began shaking again. She didn't even need to hear the information that Sturges was relaying to her about the―

Danse cringed on the inside. The boy. The one who had been sent to live with Kellogg, to give him memories that Ruiz would have had to see. The synth child stared up at her and started pleaded with her to take him with her.

"Please, mom! Don't leave me here, I want to go with you!" he said, staring at her.

Ruiz didn't react right away. Didn't reply to the child. Danse watched her, carefully. He was unsure how he himself should react; this was her battle, not his, and... and he was still programmed to destroy synths.

"You're not my son," she finally said, bitterly. "You're not Shaun."

"I don't want to die!" the boy told her. "Please, just think about it―"

"Why should I?" she answered, staring at him with anger in her eyes.

"I promise I won't get in your way," he replied, his words rushing together in their franticness. "I can take care of myself. You won't have to do anything. Please, just don't leave me here!"

Sturges cleared his throat. "General," he said, his words unsteady with emotion. "I don't mean to rush you, but we need to get this show on the road."

Ruiz turned away from the boy for a moment, her shoulders lowered and her hands moving up to her face. Danse moved forward, placing a hand on her shoulder. He leaned forward and cleared his throat.

"You may find this a surprise," he began, slowly, "but the boy will only be destroyed if he stays here. I may have... advocated for the destruction of all synths, but..." he sighed. "It is in the interest of all things living to survive, Ruby."

She glanced up at him, blinking rapidly, her face tortured. "He's―" she shuddered once. "He's not my son, he's only a synth―"

"As am I," Danse told her, gently. "And you spared my life, went out of your way to protect me, even though I had asked you repeatedly not to. Is this boy so much different than me?"

Ruiz swallowed, wiped her face, and sighed. "Why would you..."

"Perhaps this is a chance for you to reclaim the past," Danse murmured, leaning down closer. "To have destroyed the Institute is enough to guarantee that no more synths will be made, and no more will terrorize the wastes. To take this child home... would allow you to have what you've wanted, even if he's not fully human."

"You shouldn't be talking like that," she moaned, covering her eyes.

"No. But I have every reason to want for you to recoup," he pointed out, his voice lowering further. "This boy represents everything that you wanted, everything that you were looking for, when you came out of your Vault. It is a tangible link to the past for you―a memento of what you shouldn't forget."

She breathed out, lowered her hands, and looked up at him. "...You're right," she said, dully. "If I left him here I would be no better than the rest of those assholes."

"The Institute will no longer be a problem, and the synths that remain are unlikely to cause concern," Danse told her. "I am, if anything, a prime example of that." He tilted his head to the boy. "With your guidance, this child will experience life as I have... and I value that life."

"Okay," she said, turning back to the boy. "Thank you, Danse."

Danse nodded, straightening himself. If... he knew, if she were to leave the child here to be destroyed, she would agonize over the loss. In the time after the Institute was gone, he expected that her slipping into depression would be a severe setback. And...

He stared at the child. It looked so much like her. Having the boy in her periphery would give her comfort, something lost of her past that she needed to confront and to hold onto as hard as she could.

His own impossible nature, his own memories that were false... Danse sighed, watching Ruiz telling the boy to join her. He had nothing in his past to hold onto; nothing that he could verify as real beyond his arrival in Cambridge. Haylen and Ruiz had remembered for him, so that he knew some memories were real.

From this moment onward, he would exist for no purpose other than to doubt himself. He could not allow Ruiz to do the same.

She ordered the Minutemen out, motioning at Danse to follow her as they stepped into the teleporter―