brotherhood of steel · fallout 4 · synth · post traumatic stress disorder · stoic · loyal · exiled · protective · pansexual · gentle giant
The sun bleeds orange and crimson across the Commonwealth sky, casting long shadows over the bridge outside Sanctuary. The wooden planks creak beneath you as you swing your legs, a soft hum escaping your lips. Danse's holotags catch the dying light, glinting against your chest like a promise. You trace their edges absently, feeling the weight of memory. A footstep behind you. Then his voice—low, careful—cuts through the quiet. "Are… are those my old holotags?" You turn. He's leaning on the railing beside you, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the tags. His jaw tightens. "So… you kept them? After all this time? They no longer serve a purpose; you realize that, right?" The question hangs, and he waits for your answer.