Sacrifices

Chapter 1: Aftermath

Warnings for suicidal thoughts, rape/non-con, strong language, violence, sexual content, it's rated M for a reason.

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"You've been the only thing that's right
In all I've done.
And I can barely look at you"

-Run, Snow Patrol-

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"Are you angry?" In the aftermath of her confession, Jackie couldn't bear to look at him. Twisting and churning, her gut was in knots, this place held enough heartache but she couldn't keep this from him.

"I don't know," Danse admitted, gaze fixed upon the ceiling. Even from her peripherals, she could see the pensive expression that hijacked his features.

Since Jackie had stepped into this place, condemned to be his personal prison, Danse hadn't made eye contact with her. He had barely acknowledged her presence, until she'd slunk over and slid down the concrete wall to nestle beside him. Jackie thought he had been making progress, healing even, but it seemed he hadn't fared well in her absence. It broke her heart when she had returned, to see Danse had hardly moved since her previous visit. His back still propped against the wall, he sat hiding in the dark, with his head in his hands.

After Danse had been cruelly robbed of all that defined him, including his humanity, Jackie had spent weeks with him. Weeks helping him figure out what it meant to be alive and live without the Brotherhood but most importantly, understanding that even though he was a synth, he was still a person of value. He was still a good man.

The days following his execution had been wrought with endless silence. It threatened to consume Danse in a black hole of meaningless existence. Until one night Jackie awoke to the sounds of silent sobbing. Danse was sat on the edge of his bed with his face buried in his hands. Even through the darkness Jackie could see the unsteady rise and fall of his shoulders, hear his stuttering breath as he attempted to smother his sobs.

Jackie had gone simply to sit beside him, offering quiet comfort with her presence and after a while he had looked at her; hopeless and broken, and finally admitted that he didn't know what the hell he was doing anymore. She had contended that maybe it was ok not to have a plan and promised that whatever life threw at them, she would be there for him.

You watch my back, I'll watch yours, she had reminded him.

When she had stood to go back to her bunk, Danse caught her arm and tugged her towards him, pulling her into his arms with such force that they toppled over onto the mattress. When his trembling subsided, Jackie gently held Danse's face as he told her he would be lost without her.

During the weeks after, she had taken him to the nearby settlements and put him to work fortifying their defenses and training the residents how properly to defend themselves. Little by little, Danse had been reclaiming the humanity that had been stolen from him and was finding purpose in his life once more.

With the passing of time, Jackie had laid the Brotherhood to rest and decided she wasn't going back. The days had turned to weeks and before long nearly two months had passed before the Brotherhood came to reclaim what was theirs.

Backed by the setting sun in early May, a vertibird and a familiar face, clad in ridiculous aviators and enough smug arrogance to sail the Prydwen to the moon, a lancer had come under orders to bring Jackie back. She assured Danse that she wouldn't be long. She'd show face, go along with the pomp and circumstance, and promptly hand in her resignation. A few days, maybe a week, she promised.