Fallout Preferences and Oneshots

Danse helping sole bury their spouse from 111

It was just the right thing to do.

Upon entering the vault, Danse hadn't a clue what the Sole Survivor had left. They never spoke about the place in great detail, just that it was cold..and that it was the beginning of their new life. Of course, he was no fool- even after they discarded the ring, he could still very well make out the indention of a band upon their left hand..this was before Sole trusted him enough to speak freely about their previous life.

After they had became good friends, they eventually confirmed what was painfully obvious. Danse hadn't expected their spouse to be dead. Their son somehow made it, why wouldn't their spouse? Figures, life wasn't fair- he knew this damn well. Regardless, the process of what happened to the body wasn't something that ever occurred to him.

Which brings the Paladin back to his present reality.

The vault had been just about like what he imagined, disgusting, littered with bones, and strangely preserved artifacts from a time far beyond his life. Just like any other vault he had the misfortune of frequenting with his blue-donning comrade. However, the normalcy of the vault's layout was soon disrupted as peculiar pipes- ones that unnaturally radiated a bone chilling freeze- appeared. It wasn't very long from their appearance that Danse soon realized Sole wasn't merely exaggerating when they said the place was cold..this was a fucking cryogenic chamber.

All the horror that began to build at this realization peaked whenever his solemn friend finally stopped just a few feet away from one of the pods.

It was a futile attempt, but he saw as small tears began to brim their eyes. He didn't know what they were seeing then, but he knew it was best not to disturb them just yet. Just by the way they paused, the way their entire body seemed to slump- he knew they must've reached their destination. What's more than this, his poor friend suddenly let aloud a soft sniffle- no gut-wrenching sobs, no cries, just a mere sniffle.

Somehow that sniffle saddened him more than if they would've fell to their knees and wept. Something about the obvious change in their glance, no more a pre-war loving spouse, now a fearsome force within the apocalypse..the way he knew them was probably drastically different than the way the person in the pod did. That much was moving..be it in a good way or a terribly wrong way.

"This..this is it.." They sort of muttered, gesturing for him to come closer. With a disturbing nonchalance, they pushed the button to release their dead lover from that fiendish contraption. The sour smell of death almost instantly seeped out, but unfortunately both him and the Sole Survivor were too used to it to be moved. "I'm sorry it took me so long, honey..I'm here now though, and me and my friend will finally get you where you belong.."

And with that, a tear of his own finally fell. It seemed absurd to cry for another's lost love..but it wasn't.

That night had been rough, uncomfortable, and frankly just sad.

Danse had carried the rotting cadaver himself, their fluids leaking onto the joints of his armour and making a downright shameful mess. He didn't care. The Paladin instead held the person for a good long while, afraid to let them touch the ground in fear an eye or something would come out..sole didn't need that to happen. So yes, the huge, proud Paladin Sat for the majority of the evening cradling a damn corpse like a babe as his poor friend dug a grave.

It was just the right thing to do.