#i miss deacon a lot i need to play fo4 again without it CRASHING

[siribear]

the brotherhood, apparently, doesn’t have the resources to pick them up. even when the new trio makes it back to greentop nursery, they’re told to make most of the journey back to the airport, and they’ll be picked up once they get closer. danse is understanding, as is brandis; whisper feels like they’d have been picked up as far out as the bunker if she wasn’t part of the group.

we don’t abandon our own. whisper runs her hands through her hair with a sigh. just a few more days, then. if elder maxson wants to be petty, so be it.

-

danse and whisper take turns watching over brandis even in the safety of the nursery. the older paladin stirs and talks in his sleep. sometimes he wakes in a panic, and it’s then that they have to calm him. their progress is slower on their way toward the city, but brandis does his best to keep up. halfway back, danse has to change out his fusion core when his gait slows to a crawl and his armor stalls in the middle of a field. whisper changes it out for him, struggling with the removal until brandis lends a hand. with a grunt, he turns the latch handle, warped from their skirmish at the satellite array, and together they remove the fusion core.

‘thanks,’ she says, standing on her toes to insert the new fusion core.

brandis hums in acknowledgement. ‘astlin was about your height,’ he muses, a smile twisting his beard. ‘she had trouble with this too.’

the fusion core clicks into place, power humming through the suit once more. ‘i’m sorry it took so long to find any of you.’ maybe if she had followed the distress signal when she found it, if she hadn’t held onto it for leverage -

brandis holds up the collection of holotags. ‘but you found me. and them. and as long as i live, i will not forget them.’

whisper twists her wedding ring, sighing as her thoughts go to its partner tucked away in her bag. and her partner tucked away in the depths of vault 111. ‘i know how you feel.’

‘we’ll be at the airport soon if we keep up our pace,’ danse says, slowly. ‘thank you for the assistance, alice. we should get moving.’

-

there is no welcoming party for them at the airport, just the familiar noise of soldiers moving supplies and working machinery. a few of the idling knights recognize them as they walk across the ruined tarmac. danse signals to one, who radios up to the prydwen, and they don’t have to wait long for a vertibird to descend from the airship. danse and brandis stand at attention as elder maxson steps down to approach them. whisper crosses her arms.

‘the brotherhood is glad to have you back, paladin brandis. paladin danse,’ he greets the two members. ‘general,’ he adds.

‘elder.’ she looks over his shoulder, into the vertibird. no power armor. she holds back a sigh. a waste.

‘paladin danse, if you’ll escort paladin brandis up to knight captain cade for a full evaluation. he’s expecting you. also, you’ll find the general’s... reward,’ - there’s a notable, if questionable, pause - ‘has been set aside. bring it down once you’re done.’ maxson stands aside. ‘i’d like to talk to you,’ he says, to her, ‘in the meantime.’

brandis shakes her hand and departs with a sincere, ‘thank you.’

‘now,’ maxson says, after the two have left. ‘follow me.’ she does, to a more secluded area of the airport, away from lingering soldiers. ‘i apologize for being curt with you, but i admit i had my doubts, even now. but one moment after another, you’ve proven yourself, alice.’

‘thank you,’ she says, carefully. he’s leading up to something. wants something. ‘didn’t want your subordinates to hear you praising a minuteman?’

he bows his head, his eyes harder when he looks back to her. ‘no. but that is what i wanted to talk to you about: your being a minuteman. their general.’

‘and what of it?’

‘how much have you been able to do with them?’ he interrupts her before she can respond. ‘not for them. what have the minutemen been able to do for you, alice? remember, you had to come to us for help.’

she scoffs. ‘and i had to help you, so get to the point.’

‘fine. join the brotherhood. paladin danse told me you turned us down before, but i’m offering again. leave the minutemen and join us. together, we can find your son and take down the institute, much quicker than you can with the minutemen.’

whisper frowns. ‘those are my people, elder maxson. i can’t leave them any more than you could leave the brotherhood.’

‘i see. then we’ll leave our truce as it is, though my offer stands.’ the sound of a vertibird draws their attention: danse in a different suit of power armor. ‘paladin danse will have your armor, as you asked. good luck, general.’

-

whisper removes the fusion core from the brotherhood power armor. the moment she entered the armor, an alert appeared on the display inside her helmet: a warning for the fuel level in the fusion core. ‘did i get someone’s old, used fusion core?’

danse winces. ‘it’ll last until you return to the castle.’ there’s an unspoken, understood maybe.

she bites back a growl. the fusion core back in sanctuary might get her out to the glowing sea, but back? ‘the quartermaster - ’

‘isn’t allowed to sell one to anyone outside the brotherhood.’

well, shit. maxson’s slight for not joining them. or maybe it’s her punishment for working with them at all. the railroad - she’ll go to the railroad, instead. tinker tom has to have a spare fusion core lying around -

danse’s hand on her arm stops her before she can climb back into the armor. ‘here. i noticed the alert, so i bought a few replacements. these should last you through the glowing sea.’ he pulls a pair of fusion cores from a bag on the ground and passes them to her.

‘i - won’t elder maxson be upset? obviously he didn’t want to give me any more supplies than he had to.’

danse shrugs, surprisingly cavalier about going against the elder. ‘it’s in our best interest that you make it to the glowing sea, isn’t it? this shouldn’t be an issue.’

the fusion cores fit into her bag, tucked in next to her other supplies and random salvage. ‘thank you.’ whisper places a hand on his cheek. with a soft kiss to his other cheek, she says, ‘you’re a good man, danse. if only you were a minuteman.’

-

whisper listens to the radio, hooked up to the internal speakers of the power armor from her pipboy, as travis reports on her past week’s exploits. with his own twist, of course, praising the her for continuing to expand the minutemen in the same breath he worries about her working for the brotherhood. and worrying, of course, that they’re all going to die before quickly switching to the wanderer.

in another life, she caught nate singing along to the song on the radio in the late morning. in another life, he kissed her and made her dance with him until the end. the kitchen had smelled like burnt eggs the rest of that morning. whisper hums along.

the old, familiar songs carry her back to the road before the castle, until the fuel warnings blaring in her ears drown out the music. though she mutes the alarm, bright red text still flashes in the corner of her vision. a few of the minutemen clearing debris from the neighborhood pause to look at her, some even following behind. another runs ahead of her, ducking through the castle’s repaired doors.

one if by land - a brotherhood soldier approaches the castle.

preston emerges, flanked by two other minutemen. whisper doesn’t halt her approach, instead removing her helmet as she gets closer. ‘running on fumes,’ she explains. the two minutemen part the way for her. preston falls into step beside her. ‘i want to park this thing inside.’

preston nods. ‘let sturges know,’ he says to one of the minutemen. ‘welcome home, general.’

home. ‘thank you, pres-’ the armor refuses to take another step, just in front of radio freedom. she sighs and wonders again if maxson planned this all out. ‘thank you.’

‘still not used to that armor, huh, boss?’ sturges teases as she wobbles, stepping down from the armor. ‘how’re you gonna make it across the sea like that?’

she huffs. ‘just have to learn how to swim. i have another project for you, though.’

‘anything you need.’

she raps a knuckle against a metal arm. ‘how good are you at painting?’

sturges smiles, lopsided and pleased. ‘preston told us we might be needing some. managed to find some cans in garages down the road.’ whisper tells him to start in the morning, and he dismisses himself with a lazy salute.

‘you’re sure this is a good idea?’ preston asks. he steps around the armor to stand in front of her.

‘it’s only a new coat of paint, preston.’

‘i don’t mean that, though i can’t say i like having anything with the brotherhood insignia here. i mean going to the glowing sea. nothing survives out there.’

the sun begins to set on the water, turning it bright orange. ‘an institute scientist did.’

he groans. ‘let me come with you, then. i can’t let you go out there alone.’

'hey,’ she begins, softly, exhaustion beginning to set in. she wants to sleep. to rest somewhere she knows is safe. maybe that’s home. ‘you don’t have to mother hen me, preston. i can take care of myself.’

he sighs, his shoulders sagging in defeat. ‘i know. but if there’s anything i can do...’

‘keep this place from blowing up for a few hours so i can sleep?’ she offers.

when he laughs, it’s genuine. ‘i think i can manage that. good night, general.’

-

if deacon has planned his arrival correctly, whisper should have returned to the castle just the day before. and he has planned it correctly. his contacts have been keeping him appraised of any new changes in the commonwealth in the past few weeks, and two things have stuck out: minutemen territory has expanded further east, and a mismatched squad of brotherhood soldiers was seen returning to the airport. basically, his partner has been busy. and if the lone power armor tracks heading up through the castle’s neighborhood tell him anything, it’s that she was successful.

not that he’s surprised. he follows her for a reason, and it’s because she’s efficient. that’s all.

or so he would have told himself before. even if whatever happened between them in goodneighbor was a fluke, he can’t say he doesn’t enjoy traveling with her just to travel with her. he believes in her, in what she’s doing. what she wants to do.

he sighs to himself. getting old, deacon. lost in his own thoughts, he finds he’s wandered halfway down the newly built up neighborhood. little shops and homes have started popping up. skeletons of pre-war buildings housing whisper’s future. it’s a testament to her that he even feels safe enough to walk openly down this road without fear of being ambushed.

one minuteman makes to approach him, gun at the ready, before another stops him. the other deacon recognizes as one of the minutemen that helped them take the castle. guess he does take breaks from manning the radio. he catches the tail end of ‘- he’s with the general‘ before he completely passes them. he absolutely doesn’t puff out his chest in response.

nah.

inside the castle, there’s some bustle. an older woman he doesn’t recognize orders around a group of minutemen, each one looking more green than the woman’s army fatigues. ah, fresh recruits. it’s almost adorable how hard they try not to poke each other’s eyes out with their laser rifles. just opposite them, a guy in dirty overalls surrounds himself with scrap metal as he works on a gun bigger than he is tall. deacon looks up the walls of the castle, to another minuteman standing in front of another huge gun, this one operational. goddamn. no one mentioned the minutemen managed to arm themselves with artillery.

he’d be worried if across the courtyard wasn’t his favorite person, overseeing a project of her own. she leans in close to garvey, points across the way and gestures; preston moves closer to listen over the din and nods at whatever she’s saying. deacon might have been delirious with fever at the time, but he remembers what he inadvertently interrupted in the rain. thankfully, everyone’s too preoccupied to notice deacon walk faster.

‘i told you,’ deacon hears her say. ‘that shade of blue looks so much better. we need to make that part of our uniform. create some unity here instead of...’

‘old colonial jackets and army uniforms?’ preston finishes for her.

‘exactly. maybe even just a patch so we can recognize each other.’

‘i’ll do what i can.’

she beams at him in a way only a wife who’s gotten her way can. deacon steps up next to her, puts an arm on her shoulder and leans. whisper shifts immediately to take his weight.

‘howdy, partner.’ he tips the brim of her new, overly sized hat. he definitely doesn’t remember her having that before. ‘preston.’ preston nods in acknowledgement before turning his attention away.

‘deacon,’ she returns, still smiling. ‘welcome back.’

‘and yourself. congratulations on surviving the brotherhood.’ he stands up straight, removing his weight from her shoulder, but still finds himself leaning into her. ‘how’d you manage to swing that?’ he asks, gesturing toward the power armor currently getting a minuteman makeover.

‘i asked nicely, of course.’

deacon raises an eyebrow. ‘asking nicely took you two weeks across the commonwealth?’

there’s that grin, wicked and knowing. because he shouldn’t know that she went so far, but he does. ‘preston, if you’ll excuse us,’ is all she says before half-dragging deacon back into the secluded corridors of the castle. ‘what happened to not going back to your stalking days, hm?’

‘can i help it if travis makes it easy to follow you? anyone paying attention can read between the lines.’

she exhales heavily. ‘i see. and - what are you wearing?’

took her long enough to notice. maybe two weeks without him put her out of practice. ‘this old thing? tom had it just laying around.’ he picks at the sleeve of his hazmat suit, dug out of, indeed, tom’s stash. the genius was almost unwilling to part with it - ‘it blocks radiation in the air and the institute’s brain control waves!’ - until deacon mentioned he needed it to assist whisper. and once desdemona heard that? it was as good as his.

‘oh,’ she says quietly. ‘so you are coming with me?’ said soft enough to break his heart.

‘like i said,’ he half-turns, looking out into the courtyard, because even behind his sunglasses he’s afraid he might give too much away. ‘i’m with you.’