~ Here is a Fallout story that will be generated into a set of series, traveling through New Vegas to DC. This series I've kinda wanted to make for awhile, so if you don't like this kind of story, well you'll just have to find a different one that suits your Taste, But For Those That Have Stayed, Hope You Enjoy IT Very Much, Don't Forget To Watch Out On My Profile For My Other Stories And Updates On Them. ~

*Disclaimer: I Don't Own Anything Within The Fallout Universe, It Belongs To Said Company, Bethesda, And All I Own Are My OC's*

'Nothing But A Blur'

The feeling of dizziness, sore aching limbs, bone dry throat, slow but heavy breathing, and the feeling of numbness, as the surroundings around him begin to form from a white blanket into a spinning ceiling fan.

He began to sit up slowly, but a sudden spike of pain rushed into his skull from the slow movement causing him to jolt up quicker, which the throbbing pain seemed to further increase, causing the loose metal bars at the head of the medical bed he was laying in to bump into an old rusty metal chair, just enough to knock it over with a loud thud onto the old wooden floor boards.

He grabbed onto his head seeing that it was becoming a nerve-racking pain, eyes shut tightly, his teeth clenching together, slightly leaning forth while slowly rubbing both sides of his head, attempting to subdue the throbbing pain that didn't seem to stop with no end, which he found frustrating.

W-were am I and why do I have this pain in my head?!

He thought the knocking pain would never cease to stop. It felt as a never-ending pain that seemed like hours to him, which was only a few minutes, then suddenly it abruptly stopped, as if there was never any pain as if it never existed.

He flashed his eyes open from the feeling of something small and solid slide out from his neck. He grabbed at his neck, feeling the small glint of warm liquid form in between his palm and his neck, turns his head to his left to see a person old, weathered, and rough-looking in a dirty pair of black overalls with a bandana around his neck. The old man goes to pick up the old metal chair, sets it upright and takes a seat himself in it, while putting the used stimpaks in his hand onto the tray behind the chair he was sitting in, the old man then looks at the confused bewildered man in the bed and gives a small heart-filled laugh.

"Your awake, how 'bout that. . .you've been out cold for a couple of days now," as the old man was speaking to him, he attempts to move out of the old bed feeling the need to stand up and move, but comes to near falling face first in the floor, if not for the old man managing to catch him.

"Woah now, easy there. Easy. Why don't you just relax for a second, get your bearings, let's see what the damage is," the old man sat quietly for few moments before asking "How 'bout your name, can you tell me your name?" the old man asked him.

Still trying to shake off the side effects from suddenly feeling numb and wobbly in his legs, he sat back down onto the bed and rubbed his forehead while trying to remember what his real name was. He could only vaguely remember hearing the name Arc being said a few times it felt like it was directly said to him, but he found that it was the only thing that came to his memory on any names, but better than nothing.

"Arc. . . My name is Arc," the old man started rubbing his index and thumb over his chin, giving Arc an odd look as if he'd spoken another language. After a moment he nodded.

"Huh. . . Can't say that is what I'd pick for you, but if that is your name then that is name, I'm Doc Mitchell welcome to Goodsprings."

Wait. . . Goodsprings. . . why does that sound familiar?

Arc began trying to remember how he ending up in his current state in the first place, Doc waited a moment for him to collect his thoughts together, he coughed into his hand regaining Arc's attention from his train of thought.

"Now, I hope you don't mind, but I had to go rooting around there in your noggin to pull all the bits of lead out, I take pride in my needle work, but you'd better tell me if I left anything out-of-place." Doc, reaches under the chair and pulls out a large metal box, or at least Arc thought it was a box, that he didn't notice before and handed it to Arc.

Lead? My Noggin?. . . Wait he doesn't mean?

That's when it came back to his memory hard, he was shot in the head, his life was flashing before his eyes, literally, then the darkness consumed him only leaving the last sound he heard that came from the gun that was in front of him going off by a man in a checkered suit, but couldn't place a face on the person nor why he was there left for dead. Arc was slightly wincing in pain from the sudden rush as pieces of his memory came back rushing into him.

Doc had started to stand up, intent on getting another stimpak for him, but Arc waved him back down insisting that he was fine and focused his attention on the device in hands.

Arc slowly inspected the strange metal object and saw it was labeled "Reflectron" and had a red dial at the bottom of it in the 'off' direction, Arc switched the machine on then the machine whirred up and the right screen displayed, in a low hue of orange lettering, "Would You Like To Open Reflection Screen?", it displayed, As he was going to open it, Arc stopped his hand with a sudden realization that he didn't know if he wanted to see himself in the on screen. He hesitated for a second, thinking on what he would look like with a deformed skull from a bullet wound.

The thought scared him, but he felt that there was really no way around it, he touched the screen on the right answering "Yes," and with that the words dispersed and the bigger display screen to the left cycled up rapidly for a few seconds before slowing and coming to a complete halt.

Arc jolted back, the leaned back forward with a look of surprise and disbelief, he looked perfectly fine, except for a small scar that ran down the top of his right eye ending at the bottom of his eye. The screen had displayed himself from the top of his head to beginning of his collar bone. As he examined himself the right screen came on again in low orange lettering, but this time displaying information to him.

- Sex: Male -

- Race: African-American -

- Age: 22 -

- Hair: Terrorsaur (Dark Green) -

As Arc continued on for a few more moments before turning the machine back off still surprised, but now feeling satisfied. He gave a sigh of relief and looked back towards Doc Mitchell, "Thank you, I really appreciate you saving my life, even if I have only a vague memory of what. . . my life once was." Doc chuckled at his thankfulness.

"Good to see the bullet didn't affect your charm none." Doc waved at Arc, motioning him to stand and needlessly to say he stood up without any problems at all. He rolled his shoulders and stretched out his arms, "Looking good so far, why don't you go on and take a seat on my couch in the next room and we go through a couple of questions? See if your dogs are still barking."

They both went over to the next room with a large very light green couch and at an adjacent angle from it a bright old torn single chair. Arc sat on the couch, which to him felt rather a bit uncomfortable and Doc sat it in the single chair then proceeded to pull out a clip board and a pencil, "I got a form for you to fill out, so I can get a sense of your medical history. Just a formality, ain't like I expect to find you got a family history of getting shot in the head."

He handed Arc the clipboard and pencil, "Right then let's get started then shall we."

Merely a good two hours had passed by after Arc had awoken. After he had filled out the information and being asked a good number of questions Doc had him running and doing some physical test to see that his body was functioning correctly. Doc was finishing up the last of Arc's examination, which to Arc's relief he glad to be finished with them as only had a light sweat from the set of exercises he had done. "Well, that's all she wrote," Arc let out a sigh from mental and somewhat physical exhaustion.

"I don't have nothing to compare it to, so maybe you'd better just have a look at the results. See if it all seems right to you." Arc took the clipboard that, was replaced sheet of paper on it, turns out he has a knack in for survival, guns, and speech with the traits of a 'Fast Shot' and a 'Good Natured' person. It seemed a bit odd to Arc seeing how he really didn't know if the results were actually going to help him in the long run, but he decided to just go with it.

He gave the clipboard back to Doc and nodded to him with satisfaction. "Alright, I guess that about does it. Come with me I'll see you out." Arc followed Doc from the living room space through the small hallway stopping at the front door. "Here these are yours. Was all you had on you when you was brought in." Doc gave him an old dirty pack that had pretty good weight on it as he grabbed it from Doc.

"I hope you don't mind but I gave the note a look. I thought it might help me find a next of kin, but it was just something about a platinum chip." The mention of a platinum chip rang a bell to Arc, but he couldn't think anything of it, so he let it slip to the back of his mind for now. Doc reached behind him and pulled out a device unknown to him and handed it over to him. "Well, if you're heading back out there, you ought to have this. They call it a Pip-Boy. I grew up in one of them vaults they made before the war. We all got one." Doc showed Arc on how to use the Pip-Boy. He showed him what each tab on the device was usually used for during the times he had it.

"Ain't much use to me now, but you might want such a thing, after what you been through I know what it's like, having something taken from you. . ." Arc noticed a bit of sadness in Doc's tone the way he said the last part, as if something was still lingering around him, but he decided that its best not to pry in his life, just after Doc saved his very own. "Also you might want to put this on too, so the locals don't pick on you for lacking modesty. Never was much my style anyway."

It took a second for Arc to realize that he wasn't really wearing anything but a skin-tight shirt and white boxer shorts, without hesitation, he accepted the jumpsuit given to him and noticed the number '21' printed in a large yellow font on the back of it, guess that was the vault he was from he thought, and put on the new worn out clothing. "Thanks for patching me up, Doc." Showing a light-hearted smile.

"Don't mention it. It's what I'm here for. You should talk to Sunny Smiles before you leave town. She can help you learn to fend for yourself in the desert, but after seeing your results, you might not need it, seeing that it looks like your able to hold your own. She'll likely be at the saloon. I reckon some of the other folks at the saloon might be able to help you out, too. And the metal fella, Victor, who pulled you outta your grave, anyway, you ever get hurt out there, you come right back. I'll fix you up, but try not to get killed anymore." Doc shook his hand and left back down the hallway, leaving Arc on his own.

He put down the pack and checked the contents inside: a digital note chip marked 'Mojave Express Delivery Order', 8 stimpaks, 342 bottle caps, 12 bobby pins, 5.56mm pistol, the word 'Luck' Engraved on its hilt, 50 full cylinder ammo cartridges in a ammo container, and a black hatchet with 4 green strokes at the axe's edge reach only halfway diagonally through the metal head and a short leather strap looped through the end of the wooden handle on the axe. Arc then put everything except the gun and hatchet, back into pack and began strapping the hatchet to his waist belt and placing the gun into a weapon holster he found at the bottom of the pack, hoisting it over his shoulder, Arc steadied himself, making his way through the wooden door and to the outside, into the desert Mojave Wasteland.

The first thing that he noticed was the sun blurring his vision for a few moments, similar to the way he awoke but not so intense and with the heat quickly baring down on him. The dry desert air-filled his lungs he took in his surroundings, scanning over the area, he noticed a few decent amount of people tending to plants, and the local small animal herds of bighorners and brahmin.

The jagged black concrete roads slowly eroding with time as the dust blows across the ground and the old decrypted builds in many different shapes and sizes stick out and spread apart from each other. Arc took the moment to think,

Now, for a plan. . . find Sunny Smiles and get to get something to drink and food to eat, maybe even a place to stay the night, if I'm even that lucky, hell I just might be. Came back from death didn't I?

Arc laughed inwardly, and set out to begin his current goals.

~ Hello new and old viewers! This is a new revised chapter 1 and for those who read it earlier on can see the much improved work in it and a few changed elements in the story that fits in on the latest chapters I've written leave a review on what you think so far. ~