So this is a Fallout New Vegas fanfiction, I don't own it obviously. I love the game so I wanted to write about it. It stars FemCourier named Whisper and focuses on her relationship with her companions after Dead Money specifically Veronica and Christine. I took some liberties with the whole thing, but I think it should still work. The main relationship is going to be Veronica/FemCourier
The landscape of the Mojave was blinding to the ex-Brotherhood of Steel, but after being a prisoner for so long in the nightmarish city of the dead, it was one of the most beautiful things Christine had ever seen. "Wow," she said out loud and immediately regretted it, she had gotten accustom to not being able to speak after what the auto-doc did to her, but now that she had a voice again she found herself making sounds without thinking again. She hated it, every time she spoke in the voice of Vera Keys, the woman whose beauty built the Sierra Madre, back when such a thing would be something to be proud of. She was a starlet who lived before the bombs fell and couldn't even dream about what the world had become after a few hundred years due to the war.
Vera had been a singer and she had the most beautiful voice Christine had ever heard, except for maybe Whisper's when she pulled her from the auto-doc. But as beautiful as it was Christine hated it, she had gotten used to not being able to talk, it had been a horrible and humiliating experience communicating through charades, but it had been a necessity and she had survived it, she wasn't sure if she could survive this. Every time she opened her mouth it was another woman's voice that came out. Vera had a lovely voice, Christine would admit that it was better than her old one, but it wasn't hers and it bothered her more than it should. Only her companion's endless chatter managed to get Christine to speak, somehow she had the ability to make things feel okay even when they weren't.
"Yeah I know," a voice came from behind her, tearing through her dark thought's like a ripper, "I felt the same way when I stepped out of Doc Mitchell's house for the first time," Whisper said coming up behind her after leaving the abandoned bunker. "Then again I had just had my head put together after getting shot in the head and didn't have all my marbles in the right order and at the time I thought it was my first time going outside," Whisper, the Courier who had saved her life and soul said with a big cheeky grin. It had been a week since the two of them left the Sierra Madre, and two since they had met, but Christine still couldn't help but be amazed by her friend's nature. She had seen the wasteland crush good and kind people like Whisper, but despite her small frame and youth, the Courier had proven stronger than any super mutant and tougher than the oldest ghouls.
"Of course after a few hours of wandering and getting a bit of a crash course in survival from Sunny, I realized how stupid I was being since I've been a courier since I learned how to run," Whisper continued, more talking out loud than to Christine anymore. Christine had commented on the Courier's habit of talking to herself before and Whisper had told her that it was just something couriers did to keep sane when they got lonely on the empty road.
When she had first seen the Courier, well this courier at least though both had saved her, Christine had thought she was an angel come to save her from the small torture chamber she had been imprisoned in. She had been trapped in that hellish cylinder for days, it had kept her alive after it tore up her body, after the first day in the dark she just wanted to die, but she couldn't. The hands of the auto-doc had kept her still so she couldn't take her own life, hell after its 'surgery', it hadn't even left her the ability to scream or cry. But then the doors opened and light flooded in and standing in the opening before her was the most beautiful woman she had ever seen. It might have been her traumatized mind, because now that she's gotten to know Whisper Christine still thinks the woman's gorgeous, but she isn't some goddess of beauty, at least not outside beauty.
Back before the Brotherhood's disastrous loss at Helios One and before her and Ronnie got together, Whisper definitely would have been the time of girl the two of them catcalled at when they were stupid kids pretending to be just traveling merchants. Long black hair tied back in ponytail save for her bangs that framed her face, cute almond shaped brown eyes, a big warm smile that seemed to promise both friendliness and protection, Whisper is still very pretty, if not as beautiful as Christine first thought. She had seen few people that looked like Whisper outside of the history books, the woman had distinctly Asian features, she doubted anyone other than a few older ghouls even remembered that there was a difference between Asian people and the other races. Chinese is a swear word and the Chinese are monsters, not a race in the wasteland nowadays.
"Though I kind of wanted us to see the wasteland again for the first time together, you know two friends who survived and escaped hell viewing salvation once more together," Whisper said with a sigh. "You can't write better story than that if you tried. But nooooo, someone had to be all Miss Speedy and trudge ahead of me while I fall behind," the Courier pouted.
"Maybe we could have if someone wasn't carrying what seems to be a thousand pounds of gold and gear that they couldn't bear to get rid of," Christine said uncharacteristically snarky as they kept walking side by side. They kept an eye out for anything suspicious and had weapons ready while they walked and talked of course, you didn't follow a madman all over the wasteland without learning how to keep watch.
"Don't be a rude child," Whisper said sticking her tongue out at Christine, "and don't be so dramatic it's like 25 pounds not a thousand of gold. Could you imagine me lugging all that back to New Vegas, I'd probably run into a dozen Legion assassins before I reach Novac. Which would be fine, if I wasn't crawling along and falling over, legs flailing around in the air like a turtle on its back because of all the crap I was lugging. What is a turtle anyway," she asked out of the blue.
"It's one of those greenish lizard things," Christine replied, since she had actually seen turtles in holotapes, "they walked on four legs slowly and they had big shell on their back that they would tuck into to protect themselves from predators." It's kind of funny how sayings in the wasteland still used animals in their metaphors when the animals had been extinct for hundreds of years.
"Oh yeah I think I saw pictures of one when I was in Vault City…," Whisper said brightly, but then her face fell, "When was I ever in Vault City?" Christine winced, even more than her voice she knew Whisper hated talking about the past she could barely remember. Elijah and the Think Tank had taken her future from her for a time, but at least she had the memories of the past to look back on. Whisper didn't, and as much as the Courier tried to pretend it didn't bother her, but her eyes would grow cloudy and if left to wallow she would get uncharacteristically withdrawn and irritated.
"So tell me about Vegas," Christine said awkwardly trying to steer the conversation to something the Courier would know about instead of her lost past. It was an awkward transition, but Christine had never been what you would call a good conversationalist and the recent horrors in her life least of all getting her vocal cords ripped out hadn't really given her a reason or ability to practice. "I mean, I never saw the place when I lived out here, the Brotherhood had wanted to take it over since it was still rich with old world technology, but we never got the chance. Mr. House was just too powerful for a few hundred paladins even with power armor to bully like we always did. Before Helios One, when Ronnie and I were just kids would stay up late talking about what we thought it would be like to live on the strip. Stupid stuff that only kids believed, but still we talked endlessly about it, like streets being made from ancient old world metal that never rusted or broke, machines that poured mountains of caps if you pulled the right lever, women as pretty as angels that danced and kissed your worries away… you know just kids' stuff," she ended with a blush.
Whisper just smiled at her though without making fun, "don't worry about it, I heard plenty of the same stuff from the people I met when I traveled there myself, they weren't just kids either. By the time I reached it, I had been expecting heaven on earth with enough sin to make such a place bearable," she said fondly. "It's an okay place to live, actually it's a good place to live compared to the rest of the wasteland," she admitted, "there's still crime and corruption, but even in Freeside only junkies and thugs will attack you, and then only out of desperation of madness. The Kings usually keep them pretty much in check though, especially now that they formed something of a truce with the NCR. It's not great, but it beats bandits and deathclaws attacking you every time you close your eyes for a wink of shut eye. Even bigger towns like Novac and Primm have to worry about the Legion, bigger groups of bandits like Powder Gangers and Vipers, all sorts of animals, and whatever hellish things the wasteland can come up with. But while New Vegas is far from perfect, Mr. House and the families keep things running pretty smoothly," Whisper finished fondly.
"Sounds like you like the place," Christine said warmly glad to see her friend smiling again.
"I suppose so," Whisper said unsure, "I mean it's the safest place I know and I have pretty much all of the Lucky 38 to live in with my friends," Christine noted how Whisper said friends instead of companions or allies and felt happy. "I just feel guilty I guess," Whisper continued, "I mean I live in the lap of luxury up there while a lot of people have to keep one eye open at night and a rifle loaded just to survive."
"Don't," Christine said strongly interrupting Whisper.
"Don't what," Whisper asked surprised, normally she had to coax a conversation out of Christine; she hadn't interrupted her since they met.
"Don't blame yourself for living," Christine said simply looking at her friend who just stared back into her eyes. Christine knew her scares were hideous, they would have unnerved most, even a nasty old ghoul like Dean Domino couldn't keep making his half joking hurtful remarks at her when looking at her directly. She knew most people, if she ever talked to anyone else again would, either be terrified of her scars or pretend they didn't exist while thinking about nothing but them in their heads. But Whisper never looked away because of her scars when they spoke, she didn't ignore them or anything, she just gave more attention to Christine's eyes than the ugly lines on her face. Like she saw the scars, acknowledged her pain, and just talked to the person inside. "Life is tough in the wastelands all over the Mojave isn't any different. Yes, there are a lot of greedy and selfish people who only care about themselves even if they make it worse for everybody else, but just because you got lucky or worked hard enough to earn yourself a safe place to survive doesn't make you one of those people Whisper, so don't act like it does, okay."
"But still, shouldn't I be doing something for other people instead of being selfish," Whisper said the guilt still clear in her voice. "I mean I only get to live in a place like the Strip because I was the courier who got Mr. House's package-,"
"And tracked the man who shot you through the wasteland from Goodsprings, to Boulder City, to the Strip and beyond," Christine said interrupting again with the stories Whisper had told her when they made camp. Maybe the Mojave air agreed with her now that she wasn't constantly breathing in poison since she actually felt like talking. "Not to mention you are the least selfish person I know Whisper, you could have taken the easy way out dozens of times in the Sierra Madre, but instead you found another way every time. At the switching station, I was supposed to go down into that little room and reroute the power so that bastard Elijah could open the villa like he had planned. We were in a room full of things that could kill us and I was terrified to go down there since my experiences with auto-docs have made me claustrophobic. It would had been so easy for you to just get me to shut up and go down there, but you saw how scared I was and found a different way so I didn't have to go down there. Not to mention that you could have killed the super mutant or made him your slave like Elijah, but instead you helped him and his brain so his minds could work again. You're a good person Whisper, and far from selfish, so please don't act like you are, she got quite at that last part and took her friends hand, "for me."
"Alright, I will try," Whisper promised, happy that Christine was acting livelier than she had since they met, "that's all I'm gonna give you."
"Well since it's you that's going to be enough," Christine said smugly, "since you've done pretty much everything you've tried to do."
"Oh stop it you're making me blush," Whisper said giving her a look, but when they kept walking she seemed happier. "Oh well when we get to Vegas we can stop worrying for a bit and wash that Sierra Madre smell off of us," she said giving Christine a smile.
"You are not getting to Vegas at all sow," a voice called from farther down the road full of anger. There were four men, each wearing a purplish red leather armor that seemed rather cobbled together with additional pieces of armor salvaged from other. Three of the four men had their heads and eyes covered in different ways, one had a motorcycle helmet from the looks of it, while another had face wrappings, the third man looked like he had an animal on his head rather than a helmet though. The man who spoke, who Christine assumed was the leader, didn't wear anything covering his eyes or head, he had shaved hair though and a Mohawk. Perhaps they were supposed to be intimidating, but all Christine felt after surviving a city of ghost people was a desire to grow her hair out so she didn't look as ridiculous as their leader. Still, they had weapons that looked like they were in good condition even though they weren't trained on her or Whisper yet. Mohawk, as Christine called him in her head started speaking again, "Now you will serve as an example to all who dare oppose Caesar's Legion. Defend yourself!"
"Oh great," Whisper said with a hint of frustration as that three of them charged forward to engage them at close range, "now I'm going to have more stuff to carry." Whisper just gave her a smile before slipping on a pair of bear trap fists and met the charge of the other three with a battle cry of her own. With a sigh Christine pulled out the fully upgraded Holorifle Whisper gave her to use and took aim.
