[ Even if Danse were used to the kind of dreams that build on themselves and drag in terrifying additional pieces like a growing vortex, this would be enough to give him pause, faintly overwhelmed by the new and unfamiliar horrors that even Arcade's adult mind finds worth dwelling on. Oddly enough, it's the darkness that sinks the deepest hooks into Danse's own fears, more so than the foreign Mojave wildlife or the ever-heightening flames--but all of it is of a piece, and it's only for his charge's sake that he snaps himself out of it with his heart still thudding.
He wouldn't be able to blame Arcade for fearing that Danse wouldn't believe him about the necessity of getting on that flight. If Danse had a track record of believing him about anything important, they wouldn't be here right now. But he takes Arcade's word about this, even if he doesn't know the exact thought process here, because if he doesn't know better now, he never will. And in any case, that 'bird is the only way out of here that he can see. Trying to catch it is imperative.
It would be cruel, and borderline impossible besides, to expect a small child to run that far with time so much of the essence, and so Danse makes the quick decision to scoop him up--the weight no burden at all--and cross the distance as fast as he can with the benefit of his armor to lengthen his stride. Halfway there, he calls to the pilot with a voice that's good for nothing in the world so much as shouting orders across a battlefield and having them heeded. It's particularly well-trained to carry over vertibird propellers, after the Brotherhood commandeered ones like these for themselves. ]
Hold departure! There's one more!
[ Just one, though, because as genuinely touched as he is by Arcade's impulse to turn back for him, he knows he doesn't belong on that vertibird, with as much certainty as he knows Arcade needs to be on it. But he doesn't belong on the battlefield, either, whether he's wearing borrowed Enclave armor or not--wouldn't belong on either side now, even when he would so recently have reveled in throwing himself into that fray. It doesn't matter. He'll find somewhere to be. He hands Arcade off into the arms of someone waiting in the vertibird, someone whose face he can't see. ]
It's all right. You'll be all right.
[ He can say that now, he realizes, even when everything else about this has been frightening and uncertain. Time has at least decided that already. ]
no subject
He wouldn't be able to blame Arcade for fearing that Danse wouldn't believe him about the necessity of getting on that flight. If Danse had a track record of believing him about anything important, they wouldn't be here right now. But he takes Arcade's word about this, even if he doesn't know the exact thought process here, because if he doesn't know better now, he never will. And in any case, that 'bird is the only way out of here that he can see. Trying to catch it is imperative.
It would be cruel, and borderline impossible besides, to expect a small child to run that far with time so much of the essence, and so Danse makes the quick decision to scoop him up--the weight no burden at all--and cross the distance as fast as he can with the benefit of his armor to lengthen his stride. Halfway there, he calls to the pilot with a voice that's good for nothing in the world so much as shouting orders across a battlefield and having them heeded. It's particularly well-trained to carry over vertibird propellers, after the Brotherhood commandeered ones like these for themselves. ]
Hold departure! There's one more!
[ Just one, though, because as genuinely touched as he is by Arcade's impulse to turn back for him, he knows he doesn't belong on that vertibird, with as much certainty as he knows Arcade needs to be on it. But he doesn't belong on the battlefield, either, whether he's wearing borrowed Enclave armor or not--wouldn't belong on either side now, even when he would so recently have reveled in throwing himself into that fray. It doesn't matter. He'll find somewhere to be. He hands Arcade off into the arms of someone waiting in the vertibird, someone whose face he can't see. ]
It's all right. You'll be all right.
[ He can say that now, he realizes, even when everything else about this has been frightening and uncertain. Time has at least decided that already. ]