Deacon doesn't react to Danse's thoughts, not physically. But there is a thought there, deep in the recess of his mind that he tries like hell to push out: It's not his fault. The Railroad could have given him better memories, something to better protect him from where he was fated to be outed, but they didn't. They were still figuring it out, after all, after they'd been wiped out just a few years earlier. Deacon can't take Danse's distaste for him personally, because he knows he doesn't make this easy and he knows that Danse isn't even really aware of his origins... something Deacon sometimes wonders about. Would it be easier to forget his past? Who knows.

He waves off Danse's defense casually, shaking his head. "I know that. I wanted to know what you thought. It's just not my style." Trusting anyone, that is. Not burning bridges and entire interstates while he's at it.