What Danse reads as pity, Deacon feels as guilt. He was responsible for escorting the freshly liberated synth later known as Paladin Danse to Rivet City. The agent that left him there as this stray animal Danse thinks himself. Vulnerable to The Brotherhood's indoctrination. He may not have implanted Danse's memories himself, but he cannot help still feeling responsible.

That fire alarm rings deafening into Deacon's mind, but his poker face holds true. He doesn't react. He can't. But he'll certainly lie sleepless all night with a pit in his stomach over it later. That's his own burden. Danse is only one of the synths Deacon had liberated. Distantly, he wonders if they all curse him like this one does.

"I will," he echoes. "I'm used to flying solo, anyway."

He leans forward, snuffing out the cigarette into the broken mug. He won't ask Danse to leave, but he's not going to beg him to stay, either.