7. The Headache

After a harrowing night in the Old State House, Danse was more than ready to leave Goodneighbor in the dust. Larimer’s room was right above his, and the thunderous echoes of her alcohol-induced snores had made it quite difficult to sleep. This was further compounded by Hancock’s incessant humming as the ghoul wandered the halls of his home. It was a miracle that Danse had managed to get any rest. As he thought over the events of the past 48 hours, the Paladin realized that he hadn’t had a proper night’s sleep in days. No wonder his head was killing him.

“Morning, trash can!” exclaimed Hancock as Danse emerged from the room he’d been offered for the night. The Paladin groaned, squeezing his temples as he tried to will the pain away. Hancock paused, looking Danse over appraisingly. “Migraine, huh? I have something that might help with that, if you’re interested.”

Danse glared at the ghoul. “I don’t require chems to handle a simple headache. I will be fine once I’ve left this wretched town.”

The mayor sighed, his beady black eyes narrowing at the Paladin. “Now, now, I know you’re hurting, crewcut, but let’s be civil here. It’s not Goodneighbor’s fault your head hurts, is it?”

Danse shook his head. Hancock was right, but he wasn’t about to share medical information with the freak. He was grateful that Larimer had been given a safe place to sleep off her overindulgence of the night before, but that had only earned the ghoul so much good will.

“Is Larimer awake yet?” the Paladin asked in a low moan. “We really ought to get back on the road.”

Hancock shook his head. “Haven’t seen her. You wanna go check on her, or do I get the pleasure?”

“She’s my responsibility,” barked Danse. He didn’t much care for the lascivious look in the ghoul’s eyes. It was bad enough that he and Larimer had been separated for the night. Though it was more appropriate for them to have separate rooms, he was nervous about leaving her alone in her impaired state.

He walked up the weathered spiral staircase to an ornate wooden panel with delicate carvings of vines that neither time nor the apocalypse had managed to destroy. The Paladin knocked gently a few times, but received no reply. “Larimer,” he called, “I’m coming in.” With that, he swung the door open, his eyes widening in surprise at the sight before him.

To say that her room was nicer than the one he’d had would be quite an understatement. When Hancock had offered Larimer this particular room for the night, the ghoul had let slip that he usually used the room for entertaining, and it was easy to see why. As Danse crossed the threshold, he could have sworn he was transported back in time.

The windows of the large bedroom were boarded up, beams of early morning light filtering in past the barricades, and everything in the room was as worn and battered as any furniture which had survived the war. Thanks to Hancock’s decorating choices, however, it was easy to look past all that and see a little glimpse of what life had been like, what Danse hoped life would someday be like again.

The room was painted in light blue, with a large four-poster bed taking up much of the far wall. There was a small end table on the left side, holding both Larimer’s glasses and a teal vase of hubflowers, which gave the space a comforting, old world charm. Sheer drapes that must have once been white hung about the bed, swaying gently in the breeze from a nearby window.

There, dwarfed by her surroundings, lay Larimer, her head cushioned by the softest pillows Danse had ever seen. Her face looked more at peace than he’d ever seen it, her pure white hair framing her features in a silvery halo. She was still sound asleep, it seemed, and Danse backed out of the room quietly, closing the door behind him. He could give her another half-hour. After all, accommodations like these were rare in the Commonwealth. It would be a shame not to let her enjoy them.

As he waited for her, Danse began re-packing their belongings. Larimer had a terrible habit of just throwing everything into her pack without regard for what was already in there, and he was tired of finding bits of circuitry and plastic embedded in their provisions. Fortunately, Hancock elected to give the Paladin some space, and remained out of the meeting room while Danse carefully sorted his and Larimer’s belongings.

Danse managed to clean up both their packs, taking care to place most of the heavier items in his bag. His power armor greatly increased the load he could bear, and he knew from basic training how terrible it was to have to march with a full pack while nursing a hangover. There was a reason why the Paladin only infrequently indulged in alcohol.

While he was returning the last few items to Larimer’s pack, he caught sight of a small, leather-bound book, which he picked up. Danse held the small volume in his hands for a few moments, trying to decide if he should take a peek inside or not. He wasn’t the sort of man who enjoyed prying into people’s private affairs. At the same time, however, he found himself filled with a burning curiosity that needed to be sated. He opened the cover, his curiosity getting the best of him.

Danse’s eyes widened as he took in the contents of the small book. It was not, as he had feared, a diary. Instead, it appeared to be a small album of faded color photographs, a rarity even before the war. Either Larimer’s family had been quite wealthy, or...these were wedding photos.

His curious eyes met Larimer’s own as she smiled off the page, her rosy cheeks and full, red lips blossoming in sharp contrast to the clean, white lace dress she wore. Her hair was a rich chestnut brown, pulled into a sophisticated updo that twisted elegantly behind her head before being hidden beneath a delicate white veil. He almost didn’t recognize her without the deep sadness that now rested behind her stunning eyes.

Danse couldn’t help but want to see more. He had always wondered what life had been like before the war, had always secretly wished that he could have seen it. What hints he’d found in advertisements and stories painted a picture of an ideal life of peace and quiet prosperity, of strong, loving families and clean, airtight homes. He found himself torn by a deep nostalgia for a world of picket fences and strawberry lemonade he had never known. But Larimer...that had been her world. Perhaps her life could give him a clearer window into the past he’d never know.

He turned the page, his eyes glued to the album. There was a small chapel, its red brick exterior clean and warm beneath a gentle sun. Against its wooden doors stood a small cluster of people, all smiling brightly. In the center of the group was Larimer again, this time with her head thrown back, laughing. Beside her was a tall, copper-haired man in dress blues, his arm wrapped tenderly around her waist. This must be Nate, Danse realized. He studied the man carefully. Larimer’s husband was the model of a pre-war soldier, all lean muscle and strong posture, his tanned, clean-shaven face alight with pride as he watched his new wife with steely blue eyes.

On the opposite page, a yellowed newspaper clipping caught his eye.

“Myra Isolde Taylor and Captain Nathaniel Sebastian Larimer were married October 20, 2076. Their wedding mass was held at St. Thomas Aquinas Catholic Church in Nahant, MA. The bride is the daughter of Sheriff Martin Taylor and the late Harriet Taylor of Nahant. The groom is the youngest son of Dr. Walter and Anna Larimer of…”

As Danse read the wedding announcement, he heard the door to the meeting room open with a low creak. He hastily closed the small album and quickly shoved it back into Larimer’s pack. He did his best to shake off his guilt from intruding on her private life as the Initiate entered the room.

“Good morning, Paladin,” Larimer said softly, her deep green eyes gazing up at him cautiously. Something was different about her this morning, but Danse couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Perhaps it was merely his imagination, stray ghosts of the woman he’d seen in her photographs coloring his view of her.

“Good morning, soldier,” he replied. “I’m glad you’re awake. I was starting to think you’d be unconscious all morning.”

“Well, I did get pretty drunk last night,” Larimer mused. “Nate always used to tease me about how low my alcohol tolerance was, and the stuff we drank before the war was pretty tame compared to the moonshine you have now.”

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson, then,” Danse said gently, not wanting to berate her further. “A good soldier knows their limits.”

Hancock walked into the room, his scarred face broken by a cheeky grin. He was followed by a menacing woman, her eyes cold and calculating as she glanced at Danse and Larimer. The woman set a large metal tray loaded with packaged food and a pitcher of dark violet liquid on the meeting room table before retreating, clearly eager to be elsewhere. “Breakfast is served,” the mayor announced. “I hope you’ll forgive the spread. We’ve been having some trouble getting meat lately. Our usual hunters haven’t stopped by in a few days. But the mutfruit juice is fresh, hand-squeezed by Clair down at the Rexford.”

“Thank you, Mayor Hancock,” replied Larimer quietly, pouring a glass of juice. She handed it to Danse without making eye contact before pouring another for herself.

“You can just call me Hancock, gorgeous,” the ghoul replied. “I’m not the sort of guy who gets off on titles, unlike some people I’ve met,” he added, eyeing Danse with a smirk.

The Paladin grimaced as he choked on the tart juice. He wasn’t sure he liked what the ghoul was implying.

Larimer snagged a few snack cakes from a yellowed ceramic plate, passing two of them to Danse. “Here. These are super gross, but the sugar will help your headache, I promise.”

“How did you…” he started, and she greeted him with a hollow chuckle.

“I used to get really awful headaches all the time when I was pregnant, probably from all the vomiting. Trust me, I recognize that corpse-like pallor from the mirror. What you really need is sleep, but the sugar and fat in those things are a good temporary fix.”

“Thanks,” he replied sincerely. Why was she being so nice to him all of a sudden? Larimer had never been hostile towards him exactly, seeming to delight more in getting on his nerves than in deliberately causing him trouble. But this was different. She was acting like she actually cared about him, or perhaps worse, like she was afraid of him. It was unnerving.

Mercifully, Larimer and the mayor ate their breakfast in relative silence, presumably out of respect for Danse’s pounding head. He wondered at Larimer’s own resilience. She’d been three sheets to the wind when they’d arrived at the Old State House, and yet she didn’t seem to bear the faintest trace of a hangover. Either she’d been faking how inebriated she was the night before, or she had one hell of a metabolism. Seeing the way she threw back her breakfast, Danse found himself leaning towards the latter explanation.

Finally, Larimer’s hunger was sated, and she stood from the table, stretching lazily. “We should probably get going, shouldn’t we? Thank you again, Hancock.”

The ghoul nodded to her. “Don’t mention it, sweetheart.” His black eyes flashed dangerously as he grinned at her. “Seriously. Don’t mention it. I’ve got a reputation to uphold.”

Larimer nodded. “Listen, is it possible for us to arrange a caravan to Oberland Station? I’d like...I’d like to get Finn home, but we don’t have time to head back right now.”

Hancock smiled gently at her. “I’ll talk to Daisy and see what we can do. That’s...that’s really fucking civil of you.”

“It’s the right thing to do. We’ll cover the expense. Danse and I did promise to try and bring him home. It’s not the way we wanted, but…”

Danse listened on in surprise. He’d hoped Larimer had taken their argument the night before to heart, but he hadn’t expected this. With everything on her mind, she was still determined to do right by the old man they’d met at Oberland. The gesture frankly amazed him.

Hancock waved a hand at her dismissively. “No deal. I’ll pay for the caravan. I mean, I’m the one who killed him. Consider it one last apology, if you want.”

“You’re actually a pretty nice guy, Hancock,” replied Larimer, offering a hand to him which he shook firmly.

“Like I said, please, please don’t mention it.”

She smirked, nodding as she grabbed her pack. The Initiate frowned slightly, bouncing the bag in her hand for a moment before looking over at Danse with questioning eyes. “Danse, did you take anything from my bag?”

He felt his cheeks burn slightly as he nodded. “Affirmative. I apologize for taking such liberties, but your pack was quite overloaded, so I transferred some of the heavier items to mine. I hope you don’t mind.”

“No, it’s ok,” she replied quickly, her eyes flitting away from his. “Just maybe ask first next time, okay? I almost accused our host of petty theft.”

Hancock grinned at her. “Trust me, beautiful, it wouldn’t be the first time.”

“All the same,” Larimer replied, “If I’m going to yell at you again, Hancock, I’d prefer that you deserved it.”

The ghoul chuckled. “Well, then. I’ll have to keep that in mind.”

Danse grabbed his pack, eager to get back on the road. As calm as their morning had been, he still wanted to leave the stench of Goodneighbor behind them as soon as possible. Besides, if he had to watch Larimer charm the foppish ghoul any longer, he might be sick. Kindness notwithstanding, Hancock was still an unknown variable, and the Paladin worried that Larimer’s trusting nature might lead her to reveal more than she should to someone they’d just met. “We should be on our way,” the Paladin grumbled, trying to ignore the throbbing in his skull, “The earlier we arrive in Diamond City, the more likely we are to find someone who can assist us in our mission.”

Larimer’s eyes met his, “As long as you’re up for it, Paladin,” she replied, her voice thick with concern.

Danse nodded. “I’ve marched farther in worse pain, Initiate. I can handle a headache.”

“If you say so…” she mused, waving to Hancock as she and Danse exited the State House, heading out of town and into the ruined streets of Boston.

::::

As Danse and Larimer passed through Boston Common, Danse found his mind wandering. He thought back to his argument with Larimer the night before, how she had tried to get him to return to Cambridge. She was right, after all, when she’d questioned him. What was he doing, splitting his team like this? Would he really be able to protect Rhys and Haylen if things went sideways? What would they do if something happened to him, and he never returned to base?

They weren’t exactly taking the safest route to Diamond City. Every map of the Commonwealth Danse had ever seen had a big red X over this sector. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, but it couldn’t be good. With his focus impaired and Larimer’s unnatural talent for finding trouble, he was quite nervous.

For her part, Larimer seemed strangely reserved, quietly walking next to him with an unreadable expression on her face. The brash, confrontational Initiate Danse was used to had seemingly melted away in the night, as though all her fight had evaporated with the dawn. He should have been pleased that she seemed to be taking his words from the night before to heart. Instead, he found it deeply worrying.

“Larimer,” he asked quietly, “is everything all right?”

She glanced up at him quickly before her gaze returned to the road ahead. “Everything’s fine, Paladin. I’m just thinking.”

He sighed. It was as he’d feared. Rather than using their argument as a reason to be more open with him, she was instead retreating farther away. Was she really that afraid of him being angry with her?

Danse was about to reply when they were interrupted by a hail of bullets and guttural screaming from above. Of all the times for them to stumble into a pack of Super Mutants...

“Get to cover!” he bellowed to Larimer, who was already sprinting towards the ruined skyscraper full of hostiles, Righteous Authority spewing red laser fire into the massive green torso of the nearest mutant.

Danse cursed under his breath, racing after her. When would she learn not to charge headlong into danger? He caught up with her quickly, grabbing her arm roughly and forcing her behind a ruined wall. “Super Mutants aren’t like raiders or ghouls,” he admonished as a hail of minigun fire blazed past them. “They pack far more firepower and are far harder to kill. Aim for the head, and stay in cover if you can. If you can’t, at least stay behind me so my armor can protect you. Do you understand?”

She nodded, rubbing her arm as she stared up at him, terror in her eyes. “I...I understand. Let’s go.”

Together, they plunged into the building, Danse carefully clearing each floor as Larimer picked off each super mutant she could from behind cover. Within minutes, the group was dead, the floor slick with blood and brains. Fortunately, it seemed like the building had only housed a small patrol, and none of them had mini-nukes.

Danse found his way back to the Initiate, who smiled at him warily as he approached. Larimer touched her right cheek, chuckling under her breath. “You got a little something there, Paladin,” she teased.

He reached up, wiping a glob of viscera from his face with disgust. “Thanks. How is your arm? I hope I didn’t hurt you.”

She shook her head. “It’s not as bad as a minigun burst to the skull, that’s for sure. You saved my life. I’m sorry for putting myself at risk. I didn’t realize how tough those things were.”

He smiled slightly before turning towards the stairs. “Well, now you’re aware. Next time, I know you won’t make the same mistake. Come on. We’re still a few blocks from Diamond City, and who knows what else this place has in store for us? I wouldn’t be surprised if there are worse things than Super Mutants hiding in these ruins.”

Larimer started down the building’s skeletal staircase, her eyes glued to the steps in front of her. Danse followed behind her carefully, trying to find a way to clear the air between them before things got any more uncomfortable.

Fortunately, as they continued towards Diamond City, Larimer gave him the perfect opportunity. As she clambered up a debris pile to get her bearings, her boot got stuck under a piece of rebar and she lost her balance, twisting backwards.

Danse ran to her aid, catching her just before her back connected with a pile of broken glass. “Careful, soldier,” he said gently, as he helped her up “this terrain is quite uneven.”

“I… Why are you being so nice to me?” she hissed. “Shouldn’t you be lecturing me about what a liability I am or something?”

It pained him to see her like this. “I just…” he began with a sigh. “Look, Larimer, I’m not intending to lecture you. I just want to make certain that you are alright.”

“I told you, sir,” she replied, “Everything’s fine. I’m just…”

“Just thinking,” he finished. “I know. But you’ve been behaving abnormally all morning. I’m concerned that you might be having difficulty, in light of our discussion last night.”

“You mean our fight,” she replied with a sigh. “Look, Paladin, I’m really sorry for how I behaved. I’m sorry for acting like your advice and opinions don’t matter to me. I was just...I’ve just been...I didn’t mean to take that out on you.”

“You’ve apologized enough,” said Danse solemnly. “Elder Maxson, our leader, says that Brotherhood soldiers don’t apologize. They accept their punishment, learn from their mistakes, and move on.”

“So, what’s my punishment, then?” she asked, her voice a tired attempt at her usual snarkiness. “Do I have to shine your armor? Carry a backpack full of rocks?”

Danse shook his head. “I was considering assigning you to a full day of intense physical training. With Knight Rhys supervising you.”

Larimer’s smirk didn’t make it to her eyes. “If you wanted to kill me, Danse, it’d be easier just to shoot me.”

“Damn it, Larimer, I’m trying…”

Danse’s reply was cut off by the sound of frantic yelling from the next block over. It sounded like a woman in distress, her high-pitched voice carrying through the ruins.

Danse and Larimer glanced at each other before running in the direction of the voice, their weapons drawn.

A short, black-haired woman in a red trench coat stood outside the Diamond City gate, screaming at the intercom and waving her hands about wildly as she berated the security guard on the other end. The guard was clearly following orders, and Danse felt more than a little sorry for the man as the woman’s wrath enveloped him.

“Protecting Diamond City means keeping me out, is that it?”, the woman fumed. "’Oh look, it's the scary reporter!’ Boo!”

“I’m sorry, Piper,” replied the man on the other end, exasperated, “but Mayor McDonough's really steamed. Saying that article you wrote was all lies. The whole city's in a tizzy.”

“Damn you, Danny Sullivan,” she screamed, “you open this door right now! I live here! You can’t just lock me out!”

After a few more minutes of pointless yelling, the woman turned with a sigh, her eyes meeting Larimer’s. Suddenly, her face brightened, her piercing hazel eyes shining with crafty intention.

“Hey,” she rasped, “You want into Diamond City, right?”

Larimer nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to get in.”

“Just follow my lead. I’ll get us all in, just you watch,” the shorter woman whispered, smirking. She turned back to the gate. “What’s that? You’re a trader, up from Quincy? With enough supplies to keep the market going for a whole month?”

Larimer grinned. “No, ma’am,” she exclaimed in her affected drawl. “I came down from Concord. Found a whole lot of medical supplies just sitting around up there. Stims, blood packs, bandages, you name it.”

Danse frowned at the Initiate, disappointed in her choice. Lying to local law enforcement? Was there any action that was beneath her?

The woman in red, however, nodded with a mischievous smile that almost matched Larimer’s. She was clearly impressed at Larimer’s capacity for lying. “Well, well, I’d hate to be the guy who turned away that kind of supply.”

The voice on the intercom sighed. “Fine, fine. I’m opening the door. This better not be a trick, Piper, or I swear…” In a moment, the gate began to rise, creaking and clanging as its metal shutter lifted on rusty hinges.

“Good job. Better head inside quick before ole' Danny catches on to the bluff,” the reporter said slyly, gesturing at the gate.

Larimer, however, stared up at the wall in trepidation. “What is this place?” she asked.

“Oh, the ‘green jewel’?” The reporter asked. “She's a sight. Everyone who's anyone in the Commonwealth is from here, settled here...or got kicked out of here,” she added, gesturing to herself with a smirk. “A big wall, some power, working plumbing, schools, and some security goons are what make Diamond City the big monster it is. Heh. Love it or hate it. You'll see for yourself, soon enough. Let's go. We need to get in there before the…”

As she was speaking, a short but well-fed man in a grey suit stormed in next to the security desk, his rat-like eyes honing in on the young woman’s face.

“...mayor shows up,” Piper finished in disgust.

“You devious, rabble-rousing slanderer!” cried the man, who Danse presumed was the mayor. “The...the level of dishonesty in that paper of yours! I'll have that printer scrapped for parts.”

“Oooh, that a statement, Mr. McDonough?” she shot back, her hazel eyes flashing dangerously. "You want my next headline to read: ‘Tyrant mayor shuts down the press?’ Or maybe we should ask the newcomers. Do you support the news? Because the mayor here’s threatening to throw free speech in the dumpster!”

Danse’s eyes narrowed. “I don’t know what problems the two of you have,” he growled, “but I’d prefer it if you left my companion and myself out of it. We just want to enter the city, handle our business, and leave.”

The suited man smiled at him, the sort of saccharine grin that belonged to salesmen, con artists, and their ilk. Danse instantly disliked the man. There was no honesty in his face.

“Of course,” the mayor crooned, either not recognizing or foolishly ignoring Danse’s rising annoyance. “I’m sorry to drag you into the middle of this. I’m Mayor McDonough. Welcome to Diamond City! You seem like exactly the kind of upstanding, level-headed people we like in this town. Please, do come in, visit our market, maybe settle down.”

“We’re not planning on staying long,” Larimer offered. “We just need information.”

Larimer’s statement seemed to intrigue the reporter. “Information?” she asked. “On what?”

“We’re trying to find my son, Shaun,” the Initiate replied, her voice breaking slightly. “He was kidnapped. He’s less than a year old.”

“Oh.” replied the woman, her eyes softening. “That’s terrible. I’m so sorry. Hopefully, the mayor here will get off his ass and, you know, do his job and help you.”

The mayor sighed heavily. “Piper, you know as well as I do that we don’t have the manpower…”

“Are you kidding me? This woman’s baby is missing, and you can’t spare one security guard to help her?” Piper threw up her hands in disgust. “And you wonder why your popularity in the lower field is worse than ever. Fine. If you won’t help, then I will. And I’ll make sure the whole town knows that their mayor did nothing when children went missing.”

Piper turned back to Larimer. “I know a guy who can help you. His name’s Nick Valentine. He has a detective office here in town, and specializes in missing person cases.”

Danse sighed. “At least someone here is willing to help.”

The reporter smiled back at them. “Hey, don’t mention it. If you want to return the favor, though...After you see Valentine, if you don’t mind, you and I should have a little chat. I’ll bet you two have one hell of a story to tell.”

“We’ll see.” Larimer replied, waving at the young woman as she climbed the steps into Diamond City proper, ignoring the blistering glare the mayor fixed on her as she passed. Danse felt his hackles rise as he passed the mayor, following Larimer into Diamond City. Something really unnerved him about that man, and his instincts had rarely steered him wrong.

He wished that he and Larimer had gotten the chance to finish their conversation before they entered Diamond City. She kept insisting that she was fine, but he could tell just by looking at her that she was frightened and hurting. If she wouldn’t let him help her, there was very little he could do, but Danse was determined to be there for her in any way that he was able. She was his subordinate, and she was in trouble, whether she’d admit to it or not.

Perhaps he should have done what she’d wanted and left her in Goodneighbor with the mercenary. He was taking quite a risk leaving Haylen and Rhys on their own, all for the sake of a woman who didn’t seem to even want him around most of the time.

But as Initiate Larimer walked ahead of him into the shanty town, tucking a stray strand of white hair back into her cap, he knew he’d made the right choice. There was something about her that just made him want to stay by her side, no matter how foolhardy it was. And while that terrified him, he also felt strangely at peace with his decision to help his newest soldier. Perhaps…

“Danse!” cried Larimer, turning to look at him with childlike awe on her freckled face, “Look! The bases are still here! I’m gonna try for a home run, finally check that off the bucket list!”

She was deflecting her feelings again, he realized. He had to get her to open up, and quickly, before the small chink he’d made in her armor the night before closed up again, sealing her away with her misery somewhere he could not follow.

“Larimer!” he replied, “Wait! We have to…”

Before he could stop her, she was off, laughing breathlessly as she tore through the market. He sighed before bounding after her, his heavy armored footfalls beating the ground as he ran. Before he knew it, his cares and worries seemed to break free, Larimer’s infectious energy easing his troubled mind.

One thing he had to say for Larimer was that she constantly surprised him, which should have irritated him far more than it did. He was a man of order and routine, concepts she hurled out the window at every turn. But maybe, just maybe, he was beginning to enjoy Larimer’s brand of impulsive chaos. Perhaps there was more order to her chaotic nature than Danse had seen before. Maybe there was also more chaos in his ordered life than he’d realized.

Either way, he was curious to find out what they could learn from each other. Something told him that choosing to help Initiate Larimer find her son would be the most important decision he’d ever made in his life, and he couldn’t wait to find out where the road would take them, or who they both would become along the way.