It was by coincidence that he watched her bleed out like that in front of him. An immediate initiative after the trials was to begin purging the immediate area of super mutant hives. The hive they'd come upon was the closest to the Citadel, only half an hour or so by flight. And a decision he'd made, one that most of the Brotherhood disagreed with, was that he would personally see to the purgings. He was cooped up and frustrated. The sacking of the Institute and the subsequent battle at the airport had reawoken a need to be on the front lines. He was a fighter at heart. It wasn't common for the Elder to participate in fighting, but it was also not unheard of. Especially for Maxsons.
The fact that they saved her only by coincidence made him angrier. He was stewing in his frustration, snapping at anyone to dared utter a word at him. His temper couldn't be reeled in even when he removed his power armor and the adrenaline wore off.
He was, quite frankly, pissed. He couldn't remember being this angry since he was a teenager and it was entirely her goddamned fault. He stormed to his quarters, not even looking at the guard who nodded to him. When he closed the door, he yanked the curtains open and watched the courtyard while drinking directly from a bottle of whiskey. Damn he wanted to smoke, but he didn't want the smell to cling to his bedroom.
Cade came for him sometime later, wisely not mentioning his temperament. He remained professional, updating Shiloh's status as well as he could. She'd bled out a lot, but the bullet only grazed her and would require stitching.
"Use the upgraded stimpaks."
"Yes, sir," Cade could have argued, said that those were saved for more dire circumstances, but Maxson's expression kept him quiet. He was being biased, sure, but he would commission for more if it was that big enough of a deal.
Eight days later, and he got news she was awake. His temper had only gotten worse, thanks to Giovanna making her leave to Chicago. The older woman was upset she didn't get to talk to Shiloh more, and warned him to make things right with her, but he'd waved her off and bid her a goodbye. Truthfully, he felt her absence. She was by all accounts his closest friend. But he couldn't let emotions overwhelm him. His poor furniture could only take so much abuse.
A scribe knocked on the door and he opened it, wishing he'd had a proper office to stew in but it was later in the day and he was openly drinking again. He almost missed the command deck. The Great Hall was as much of an office as he could have, but the room made him feel claustrophobic. The scribe introduced herself as a nurse to remind him of her caretaking of the Sentinel. She was clearly annoyed, but kept her words crisp as she let him know Shiloh had briskly woken up, removed her IV, got dressed, and went to sleep in her own room. He rolled his eyes, openly annoyed, but dismissed the scribe with a thanks.
It was the next late afternoon when he left a meeting with Ingram in the Great Hall. He headed for the courtyard. He was planning on checking in on progress with the drill sergeant. The Paladin saluted him, rambling off numbers and which recruits needed more work. He gave his permission to promote those who earned it before the Paladin brought something up to him.
"Sir, the Sentinel's been out here all day. We've left her to her devices, but something seems to be bothering her. We haven't approached to keep our respects."
Frowning, Maxson nodded in reply. "I'll deal with her, Paladin."
He hadn't even seen her in the shooting range. She was working with a gun not personal to her, a standard laser pistol. She was dressed warmly in pants and a hoodie, but her stance was uncomfortable as she was trying to use the gun with one hand. A recruit was standing near her, watching intensely as she spoke to him, "It's important to practice with smaller guns and at a disadvantage. You'll never knew when you only have one hand to pull the trigger." She seemed to speak from experience and only stopped when the recruit saluted him a little too loudly.
"Elder Maxson, sir!"
"Stand down, soldier. I need to speak with the Sentinel." The recruit nodded and Shiloh shifted uncomfortably, clutching the pistol close like it was precious. He crossed his arms, "Since when have you needed weapons training?"
She looked at the pistol in her hands, "I'm not good with anything one-handed more advanced than a .10mm. I prefer rifles. And that super mutant wrangled it from me easily."
"Yeah, I know. Follow me, Sentinel. That's an order." If she was offended at him bossing her around, he really didn't care. He wasn't going to blow up in front of the whole Brotherhood.
He strode right past the guards to his quarters, not even acknowledging them. He was being a little violent with the door, but tried to remain as calm as possible. When he shut it, he faced her with arms crossed.
She didn't look scared, not exactly. But she was clearly bracing for his anger. She wasn't used to direct confrontation because the only one who ever did that with her was Sarah. Breaking the silence, he tried to keep his voice even as he spoke, "If you want to leave the Brotherhood just say so."
She blinked in surprise, "Arthur-"
But he didn't let her finish. "I thought I made it clear that you and I were to stay on the same page. Apparently you're more interested in running away and getting yourself killed."
She bristled, "I had work to do."
"Infiltrating super mutant camps without backup is your job, now? We have trained units with power armor and superior weaponry to face them."
"I'm studying super mutants for a friend in Megaton. And I've taken on super mutants before."
"It only took one to down you. Don't bullshit me, I fucking watched him shoot you."
"This is what I do, Arthur. Why are you surprised by this?"
"I'm not surprised. I'm tired, and I'm not going to sit idly by and allow you to get yourself killed."
"So, what? You're going to kick me out if I don't comply with your regulations?"
"I have no regulations for Sentinels. I'm strongly suggesting you bring back up."
"No," she suddenly looked terrified, "no, no backup."
"God damnit," he slammed his fist on the wall, "are you running away because you've got a death wish?"
"I get people killed," they were both yelling in earnest now, "I can't get anyone else killed."
"These soldiers," he pointed toward the window, where the curtains were closed but the light peeked through, "know what they signed up for. For you to die because you think they can't back you up-"
"Please," her voice dropped to a whimper, "please don't ask me to kill any more companions."
He sighed, running his hand through his hair, "If you don't want to be here-"
"Stop saying that."
"Stop running away," he glared at her. She seemed to shrink from the intensity of it.
"I-I have to leave sometimes. You knew that."
"I didn't say stop leaving. I said stop running away."
She backed up a little, still looking terrified, but not at him. Something was scaring her. "Arthur, don't."
He sat on the edge of the bed, head in his hands, "When Sarah died, you were already gone. Did you think killing The Shepherd made me feel better? She was all I had. Now," he frowned at the floor, "you're all I have."
He didn't see her, but he heard her tentatively approach to kneel in front of him. Her hands wrapped around his wrists as he continued covering his face. Tugging slightly, she pulled his hands from his face and leaned close to press her lips to the side of his head. He looked up, still frowning at her.
As much as he wanted to be angry with her, even step away from her, his arms wrapped lightly around her waist. She placed her hands on his neck pressing her forehead to his, "I'm sorry. I'm not...I'm not used to this. To having a home. I want to be here with you. I'm just scared."
He ran his fingers across her spine, "You don't need to be scared with me."
"It's not that easy."
"Stay here with me."
She blushed slightly, allowing him to help her to her feet as he stood up, "Here?"
"Yes." He wasn't going to say much more than that.
Gently slipping under his sheets, she watched as he removed his jacket and belt. He remained mostly dressed, not wanting to give her the wrong impression, and laid down next to her. He groaned in relief, his back hurting from hunching over paperwork all day.
She was watching him, still looking slightly teary-eyed. It seemed she didn't want to make any moves until she knew he wouldn't reject her. Of course he wouldn't. He watched her eyes widen when he turned over and wrapped her in his arms. He was gripping her a little tighter than he meant to and had his head buried in her hair.
"Arthur?" she whispered, running her hand over his arm soothingly. She could feel how tense he was.
"Just...let me have this." his voice sounded broken, so she stayed silent. He could hear her soft breathing until she fell asleep. He played with her hair, noticing how long it'd grown since he'd first touched it.
He fell asleep then, not waking up until he felt her begin to squirm in his arms. He blinked, groaning as he lifted his head to see morning light filtering through the curtains. It was still mostly dark in the room, as he'd turned off the light in the middle of the night.
Shiloh twitched again, beginning to whimper. His arms loosened around her as he shook her shoulder lightly until her eyes opened. She was trembling slightly.
"Shiloh," he said her name until her eyes opened fully and she looked up to him.
"A building fell on me," he blinked in confusion until she continued, "a few days before the super mutant attacked me. Since then I've been dreaming of them. The companions who died with me. It's like I'm cursed."
He sat up groggily, rubbing his eyes, "Jesus, Shiloh."
She sat up with him, hugging her knees, "It was at another super mutant hive. One came at me with a mini nuke in his hands. He'd activated it and was going to take me down with him. I shot it right in his hands and took my chances with the building instead. If I had had someone with me, they would most likely be dead."
"Because you make reckless decisions," he didn't mean it as an insult. It was a fact.
She didn't seem offended, "I make in-the-moment decisions. Many of them are reckless. It's been a long time since you were active in the field. Can you say all of your decisions were sound and logical?"
He remembered the deathclaw attack, rubbing at his scar absently. He remembered Danse having to stop him from beating up a teammate who asked him about Shiloh after she died. He remembered beating The Shepherd's face in. "No, I can't say that."
"Try to understand," she reached over and grabbed his hand, lacing their fingers. "I won't excuse running away. It was wrong and I was a coward. But you'll never be okay with how I act in the field and I won't change that. We don't live in a world where I can do jobs and free slaves without putting myself in danger. And I'd do it again."
She leaned over, pressing her lips to his scar. He ran his thumb along her hand. It was warm from their shared body heat. "Shiloh, I-"
They both looked up when someone gently knocked on the door, "Sir, you're needed in the Great Hall." The voice didn't sound urgent, as he was a light sleeper and didn't need a harsh wake up call.
He sighed, calling out an affirmation before standing up to put on his belt. Feeling almost defeated, he let the subject drop, but Shiloh had other plans.
"Arthur," she called as he picked up his jacket. He looked at her questioningly as he straightened the sleeves to put it on. She was blushing and had a determined look on her face. She rushed forward and hugged him tightly, practically throwing all her weight into it. He was still gripping his jacket as she hugged him and he cleared his throat.
She let go, still blushing as he pulled the clothing item on. She straightened his lapels for him, standing so close he could feel her body heat. More comfortable now, he pulled her into a hug and she sighed happily.
He opened his mouth to speak, just a quick reminder that they would talk later and a promise to see her. But she spoke first.
Right into his neck, too loud to be a whisper: "I love you."
He froze, taking a moment to let that in before he pulled back and gripped her shoulders lightly, "What?"
Her hair was drifted across her neck, framing her face as her eyes locked on his. Only, he was staring at her lips as she said it again, "I love you, Arthur."
"You-" he was frustrated with his own inability to form a coherent sentence, "you-"
She nodded, smiling slightly. Another knock at the door, this one more impatient. He was still looking at her. She patted his chest. "Your meeting. Go, go. We'll talk later."
He nodded dumbly, still in shock as he left the room to walk with the impatient head scribe. Of course she had to say that right before he had a day of work to do.
Sitting in the Great Hall with a bored expression, he watched the gritty slideshow as the head scribe droned on and on about Brotherhood history that needed to be archived and the locations of some important artifacts. Cade sat next to him, a scribe in nothing but name, but still required to attend these meetings.
He raised an eyebrow when the expression on Maxson's face shifted to a slight smile. The doctor was whispering something to him, but he wasn't paying attention. Truthfully, he hadn't been paying attention to the head scribe repeating himself for a while.
She loved him.