Chapter Text
This is nothing like the Jet. The complete opposite, in fact, Avery thinks. The way that Jet makes every hair on his body stand rigid, the way every sound and touch and scent is just elevated almost beyond his comprehension. Everything saturated, blinding, even.
But not now, not now. Everything is so gray.
Avery registers that someone is talking to him. He doesn’t feel like he can move, so he instead just blinks his eyes a little, vision blurry under long and dark eyelashes. It’s dark, and looks about the same as it did with his eyes closed. He manages a sigh.
“Ah, good. Don’t do anything sudden. Nice and slow.”
Avery nods, buries his face into — something. Something warm.
“On a scale of one to ten, how is your pain?”
Avery quirks up an eyebrow, like he’s confused by the question. He opens his mouth, despite feeling groggy. “What? I don’t hurt. Nothing hurts. Nothing feels… Anything. Not much of anything.”
There’s shifting underneath his head, and then the familiar sound of the Pip-Boy light turning on, bright amber light assaulting Avery’s senses. He moans gently in protest.
Avery’s chin is raised by two strong fingers, and he squints his eyes open to see the Paladin looking down at him with a puzzling look on his face.
“Paladin?” Avery mumbles.
Danse nods a little as he runs a thumb over Avery’s temple. “Yes?”
Avery smiles, just a gentle one. “Um… You’re here. Wait! You’re here. Are you all right? Are the synths gone? Did you — “
“Slow down. We’re fine.” Danse purses his lips a little, thinking, and then prods at Avery’s head again with his free hand. “You… Sure you’re not hurting? It’s not cowardly to say so, soldier. How much does it hurt when I do this?”
Avery furrows his brow and looks up at Danse questioningly. “I don’t hurt. Why are you doing this?”
Danse lowers Avery’s head back onto his lap slowly, and sighs. “In the morning, we’re taking you to Haylen. I’ll have her take a look at you. I patched you up as best I could, but you’re worrying me.” The Paladin is not making eye contact with Avery, and Avery knows he is nervous. “I don’t want to alarm you, but your head is in bad shape.”
His power armor stands empty next to them, the officer cross-legged on the ruined tile. Avery can’t see well enough around them to make out exactly where they were, so he returns his eyes to Danse’s, and Danse doesn’t smile back, but his eyes do, at least.
“I’m fine,” Avery smiles, and reaches out a small hand to rest reassuringly on Danse’s shoulder. Danse shrinks inwardly at the physical contact, though, and Avery withdraws his hand as if he had been burned. Danse closes his eyes and shakes his head, returns to his rigid posture.
Avery wonders what he did wrong.
“After you passed out, you sustained multiple injuries to the head. Both from your fall and from two synths. I dispatched them when I could, but not before they could worsen the damage.” Danse frowns. “I’m… You saved me. I’m sorry that I couldn’t save you in turn, soldier.”
“I’m still here. It’s um, it’s fine.” Avery smiles, staring at the ceiling. “I’m glad you are okay. That’s all. I’m not hurting, Paladin Danse.”
“All right.”
Avery wants to say something more, do something more, but can’t think. Hard to think. Harder than usual. Wants to at least hold onto the Paladin’s wrist or hand, wants to focus on the feeling, but decides against it. Paladin Danse doesn’t like to be touched. And so Avery continues to struggle to gain lucidity, sensation, on his own. Physically, he feels nothing at all.
Danse flicks the light off once again, and Avery rests. Allows the gray to consume him.