The Rad Zone -- Fallout x reader-ish oneshots

Helping Hand

I forgot how chapter titles are literally the bane of my entire existence.

In which Paladin Danse runs into a new type of obstacle.

Danse/fem!Sole Surivor

No warnings

~~~

It's ironic how that one thing on your mind won't come to you until you stop thinking about it.

Tonight, Sole had exactly two things on her mind: I'd murder for some sleep, and I officially hate the wind. No matter how many sheep she counted, she wouldn't go under. The much needed rest completely eluded her, leaving her stranded with nothing to keep her company but her roving, restless mind that only put the most terrifying pictures in her head, as it usually did late at night.

A storm had been blowing through all day, and it lasted into the night as well. Though the rain had stopped, a feral gale buffeted the Prydwen, causing it to sway in the air. Of course, it wasn't strong enough to do any harm to the monstrous ship, but it was enough that the slight tilting of the ground was perceptible to those who were sensitive to it. And sensitive to it was Sole, lying miserably in her quarters, tossing and turning beneath the sheets.

She looked over at her Pip-Boy, now detached from her wrist and placed on her bedside table as she slept. The clock read 2:37 in the morning, and she groaned. Something had to be done about this, so she thought that taking a walk wouldn't hurt. Sole practically fell out of her bed, stumbling to get her feet firmly placed on the ground. She shoved the blankets off from her sweat-soaked body, deciding that a little fresh air might clear her head and her churning stomach. Willing herself to take a step, she did. She took a few more careful steps until she was out the door of her quarters, grabbing a coat along the way to cover what her plain white t-shirt and shorts did not.

She had made decent progress, until a particularly strong gust must have swayed the ship. Sole's legs turned to jelly, and she stumbled, her legs folding under her immobile body. Sole yelped as her stomach lurched, and she wrapped her arms tightly around her own midsection. She slammed her shoulder against the wall during her fall, surely disturbing whoever was on the other side. Sole gulped in deep breaths, and the world distorted around her, bursting in and out of focus. Staying down was her only option, as she couldn't will her legs to move, and the nausea only got more and more acute.

"Is everything alright, soldier? You look as green as a mutie."

An uncertain voice caused Sole to look up. She was met with Danse, standing quite stiffly in the doorway right next to where she took her grand fall. He, too, was only in his nightwear, the same standard shirt and pants she was issued when she was given her own room on the Prydwen. His eyebrows were raised above his widened eyes, and the corners of his lips were tugged down in a small, confused frown. He didn't look tired at all, as though he hadn't been asleep either. Sole's eyes traveled downwards until she realized he had an arm outstretched to her, hand open in an offer to help her to her feet. She took his hand and fought down the color to rose to her cheeks, and thanked him.

"I... I'm not used to being on a-- an airship. Or being in the air at all, really," she laughed, leaning against the wall as Danse watched her with interest. "I get motion sick really easily. I, er, I was just heading out to get some fresh air, but..."

"You didn't exactly get that far," Danse said, finishing Sole's sentence with amusement. The lightheartedness passed, and he struck her with a more professional tone. "Do you need some help?"

Taken aback by the question, Sole paused, then meekly nodded. "It'd be appreciated, thanks."

Danse wrapped her arm over his shoulder, and held her up. He searched for where to hold her properly, and the hand that wasn't on her arm that was slung across his broad shoulders rested on her waist, oblivious to how it made Sole's face burn.