They had traveled together for quite some time now. She had learned his secrets, or what he would share, for the most part. His wife and unborn child were gone, and he was grieved with what had occurred at Bitter Springs. Curt, quiet, and perhaps a little on the unfriendly side, she got used to his mannerisms quickly; no lie, it took a bit out of her to keep from decking him the first couple times they spoke. Yet, she remained patient and understanding, despite his temperament.
It was no secret to him that she would leave with other friends just to get away from him for a while. She and Raul were pretty close, and he knew that she was working on becoming closer with Veronica (everywhere they went, she looked for a dress for her) and Arcade. Lily was... different. It was both sad and ironic that she thought the courier her grandson; Lily suffered from schizophrenia due to the Stealth Boys, and due to the gunshot to the courier's head, she had no memory of her life before the bullet. He thought her both fortunate and at a disadvantage. Whatever life she had before, whether good or bad, was gone now. In a way, he wished he could forget. Forget about Bitter Springs. About losing Carla and the baby. But then, why would he want to forget the best thing that ever happened to him? Carla made him... whole. Had things worked out and their child born... it would have been truly "whole".
But no. He had his debts to pay. Life was going to see to that.
Waiting at the Lucky 38 for her, ED-E, and Raul to return from whatever it was they were doing wasn't bad. It had been a while since he had some warm food and an actual bath. It was a little crazy with everyone else in there. Arcade tried to sneak peaks every now and then, with Veronica pulling on his ear each time he made the effort. Rex usually relaxed on a pillow, and Lily was... well, Lily. Cass resorted to the bar; he had to hand it to her- that gal sure could hold liquor better than any man he ever saw. He lowered himself down into the hot water, pulling his beret over his eyes... and then reached and pulled it off, a questionable look on his face as he stared at it. It smelled like her. She had only worn it for a day or so while investigating who had sold Carla to Legion. He shrugged and put it back on his head, over his eyes.
"Why don't you travel with me?"
Different. Carla was a blonde bombshell. Vivid blue eyes that captivated him, her full lips always in a smile when talking to him. That was before Novac, though. At Novac, she was miserable. He had wanted away from the noise and craziness, leaving New Vegas as quickly as he could; she followed, naturally, since they were married, but it wasn't what she wanted at all. No one in Novac understood her, not that she let them try. She more or so kept to herself. He urged her often to make friends, but she would just shake head. When she found out she was pregnant, they were both happy, hoping it would make a change for her and give her company.
And then, there was her. Short, unkempt brown hair (she was growing it back out. Doc Mitchell had to shave her to perform surgery), warm green eyes, and lips that weren't plump, but not thin, either. She was pretty, in her own way. Since she was always fighting or helping people, she didn't have the time to worry with makeup. She was thin... perhaps too thin, but from all the wandering and fighting. Tanned skin, and a scar that ran from just above her lip nearly to her chin. When he'd first met her, it was still healing. Powder Ganger had given her a good punch with brass knuckles, nearly knocking her teeth out. She was tough... so tough...
Carla would talk to make you forget. She, on the other hand, would listen to every word, taking it all in. She made you feel...
He let out a frustrated groan, snatching his beret off his head and tossing it to the bed behind him. Why was he comparing the two? Carla was his wife. ...Was. It had been a couple years now. A couple years of him investigating, looking for answers. He still needed answers.
Ding!
He perked his head up. The elevator doors were opening, and sure enough, he heard Victor's voice say the usual, "High roller suite." But then... "Whoa, there, pardner. Ya'll need a doc fer that!"
"I'm here," he heard Arcade swiftly call. Immediately, he thought of Raul. He was a ghoul, sure, but he was old. He knew Arcade would take good care of him as he rose up out of the water, pulling the plug with his toe to let it out. He reached for a towel-
"Boone! Help!" Veronica called out to him, her voice expressing panic that made him skip putting on clothes and simply tying the towel across his waist, not even bothering to dry off. He opened the door to nearly bump into Veronica, who had blood on her hands.
"What? What's wrong?" he asked in his usual, calm demeanor. However, he didn't wait. Brushing her aside, he followed the commotion to see Arcade kneeling in front of both Raul and her. Raul had blood all over him, and she...
"Raul, look at me," Arcade soothingly ordered. "I need you to focus. What happened?"
"Them Legion people, ya? They jumped us."
Boone's blood ran cold. Arcade looked at Raul's leg and gave him a shake of the head. "I know it hurts, but you'll be fine. I'll get the bullet out in time, okay?" He then looked to her. "Jovie? Jovie, can you hear me?"
"I'm sorry..."
"Raul, you're fine. You did every-" Arcade glanced up to see Boone. "Good, you're here. Come here."
Boone made his way over. "What do you need me to do?"
"Sit on the couch. Your back on the arm rest. I'm going to lean her on you." Just as Boone sat down, Cass brought a bucket of water and a sponge. "Thanks, Cass. Do me a favor and help Raul to the other bedroom, yeah? You and Veronica clean him up as much as you can for me."
Without a word, Cass helped Raul up to his good leg and put his arm around her shoulders, helping him into the other bedroom. She closed the door behind them, and that's when Boone was noticing Arcade was taking off Jovie's armor.
"Uh... should I leave?"
"C'mon, Boone," Arcade fussed, his fingers slipping on a bloody button. "She's unconscious now, but that doesn't mean she won't wake up at any moment, fighting mad. I don't know if you've ever been hit by her or not- I have by accident. It hurts. Plus, I could use your help."
Boone pursed his lips momentarily. "But-"
"She'll understand. I'm sure she'll think us both hero- DAMMIT!"
Boone reached over and unlatched the final button to her NCR chest piece. It hit the floor with a thunk.
"Thanks."
"You nervous?"
"I don't know how bad it is... Raul was scared. I'm sure if he could cry, he would have been. Couldn't you see it?"
"Raul probably thought about Rafaela, is all."
"Who?"
Boone raised an eyebrow. "His sister?"
"I don't know about any of that."
Boone then realized... and kept his mouth shut.
Next came off her shirt, then her undershirt, leaving her top in just a blood-soaked bra. They saw it. Two gunshot wounds at her collarbone and shoulder, right side. Boone lifted her up slightly to see one exit wound.
"Arcade..."
He nodded. "I don't know if I can do this here..."
Boone shook his head. "This has to be better than at Mormon Fort."
Arcade let out a sigh and nodded. "I'll do my best." He reached in his doctor's bad and pulled out some Med-X, administering a single dose. "I don't know how long this will help."
Saying nothing, Boone just sat there, Jovie's blood covering him. Arcade snipped her bra off with a simple movement of his fingers, causing Boone to raise an eyebrow again.
"Please. I'm gay, but I've performed enough emergency surgeries to know how to unhook a bra," Arcade snidely remarked, proceeding to take a scalpel in hand. If it hadn't been for Jovie's life being on the line, Boone would've been eight shades of red, but he didn't care. He just wanted her to be okay.
Thanks to everything he had experienced, watching Arcade start digging around for the bullet lodged somewhere in Jovie's shoulder/chest area was nothing. At least, for a while. Then, he started to get annoyed. What on earth was taking so long?
"Um, Arcade?"
"I told you... this isn't easy," Arcade grunted, feeling around with his other hand. "I have to dodge vital- ah!"
"Got it?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "Now I'll just-"
Suddenly, Jovie jerked and let out a loud gasp, her eyes opening wide. Boone latched around her tightly as Arcade kept the scalpel where it was so he knew where to return to, withdrawing with his hands raised, bloodied from her injury.
"NO! NO! LET ME GO!" she screamed, trying her best to fight out of Boone's grasp. "RAUL! RAUL!"
"Jovie! Jovie, relax! It's us!" Arcade insisted, but she was still confused and scared.
"YOU SICK FU-"
"Jovie- oof!" Arcade grunted as a boot collided with his face, knocking him off the couch.
"GET THE HELL OFF ME!" she fought, but Boone clung on harder.
"Hey. Hey hey hey," Boone whispered in her ear, easing slightly on his hold.
"DON'T FREAKING TOUCH ME!"
"Jovie, listen to me. You're here. We're not Legion." He noticed she stopped struggling as much. "Do you recognize my voice?" By now, the scalpel had fallen out, and Arcade was up on his feet, a bruise the shape of a boot already forming on his face. "Jovie?"
She stopped moving. "...Boone?"
He couldn't see her face, but he could tell by her voice. Anger, terror... she was crying.
"Yeah. It's me."
A cough escaped her lips, and she leaned her head back on his chest. "Oh god..."
"Do you know where you are?"
"...Lucky 38, looks like."
"Good," he nodded. "What's your name?"
"Jovie."
"Full name."
"...Zion Jovie Pruitt."
His mouth dropped open, as did Arcade's. "That was just a joke," he spoke slowly. "You, uh... you couldn't remember your name before. Right?"
She was quiet for a moment and just stared at Arcade's shocked face. Then, "Well, I guess I remember it now, huh? Guess it takes me nearly dying to get a piece of my brain back," she joked.
Boone smirked. "That's the gal I know. Upbeat as usual." He heard her sniffle. "That's the first thing you've remembered since we've met."
"Yeah..." her voice quivered. "Boone. Arcade. Is Raul...?"
Arcade shook his head. "He's fine. Just a gunshot wound to the leg, along with some bumps and bruises."
She relaxed more into Boone's arms, and he could feel her tears splash onto them. "I'm glad... I'm so glad."
Arcade inched closer to her. "I need to finish getting the bullet out, Jovie. Or Zion. Or whatever you want me to call you."
"Jovie's fine," she nodded.
"Need me to liquor you up?" Arcade asked.
"Nah," she shook her head. "I don't like hangovers."
"Want some Med-X?"
She shook her head again. "Save it for Raul."
Boone pursed his lips together. Always tough...
"Jovie, this is a worse wound than Raul's. You need another Med-X."
"No," she shook her head for the third time. "I'll be fine. Boone's got a pretty good hold on me." She glanced up at him, and he could see the tear trails on her dirty face. With a wink, she grinned at him. "Right?"
He nodded, and Arcade let out a hesitant sigh. "At any moment this becomes too much, tell me. Okay?"
"Roger that," Jovie saluted weakly with her other arm. She let it fall to the side limply and took in a deep breath, exhaling slowly as she watched Arcade bring the scalpel closer to her.
"Ready?"
"Ready."
Immediately, Boone felt her body tense up against his, and her head threw back even more. Her lips were pursed together, and her eyes were closed. Arcade glanced up at Boone, who just nodded.
"Hey, Jovie?" Boone spoke.
"Hmm?" she grunted.
"Your face is really dirty."
A painful laugh came from her. "Just my face? Really?"
He smiled. And for him to smile... He shrugged at the thought. It was for her. "You wanna know something funny?"
"S-Sure," she winced, her other hand gripping onto his towel tightly. She had no idea what she was grabbing. All she knew what she was in pain.
"I had just taken a bath when you and Raul waltz in here, all banged up like you are."
Unable to contain herself, she let out a cry, her back arching from pain.
"That's it. I'm getting the Med-X."
"Arcade, no," she insisted firmly. Her back relaxed, and she smiled weakly. "Keep going. I got this." She looked up at Boone. "Welp, looks like you're gonna hafta take another."
He nodded. "Got that right. Guess it's all right since it's House's, huh?"
Her eyelids fluttered, making Boone and Arcade exchange worried glances. Arcade reached for his doctor's bag and shuffled around in it hurriedly.
"Y-Yeah," she nodded slowly. "Guess so."
"You doing okay?"
"I'm fine."
Boone nodded and placed his chin on top of her head. "That's right. You're fine. You'll be fine."
"Mm-hm..." She then reached up with her good arm and put it on Boone's forearm. "Oh... tell Veronica... I got her a dress."
"Yeah? Where?"
"I think... it's back where... they attacked..." she stopped. Arcade rose to his feet and ran out of the room, leaving Boone confused as to where the hell he was going. "I think it's ruined. Tell her... tell her..."
"Yeah," he finished.
"Boone?"
"Hmm?"
"You didn't get to... did you?"
For some reason, he understood the question completely. He shook his head. "No."
"Think you can... to me?"
He shook his head. "No."
"It's because I'm me... isn't it?"
"No."
She let out a weak laugh. "Your favorite word..."
"I'm not saying it because I'm just not going to," he firmly spoke. "Got it?"
She was quiet again. He wanted to move but didn't.
"Boone?"
Internally, he sighed a breath of relief. "Yeah?"
"You think... Carla would've liked me?"
"No."
She chuckled again. "I see."
He held her closer to him, feeling her heartbeat weakening. He knew it. Where the hell had Arcade gone?
"You two are really different." He waited, but she didn't say anything. "It's not a bad thing."
"I wish... I could've met her..." She then reached for her shirt, which Boone picked up for her. She stuck her fingers in a front pocket and pulled out a bloodied photograph, holding it up for her and Boone to see. "Manny... he gave it to me." Boone felt as though he had been punched in the gut. She dropped it to the floor. "I used to think if I gave it to you... it would make you happy again." She smiled. "I was dumb, huh?" This time, he didn't say anything. "Go ahead and say it." Still nothing. She looked to the side and closed her eyes. "She was beautiful. Unlike me. Even if she hadn't liked me... I would've tried to have been her friend. I think... she was real lonely." She let out a long breath. "Like me." She shifted slightly. "...Hey, Boone?"
Nothing.
Then, silence.
Boone sat in a chair, watching her sleep. Arcade had went to find a blood bag, as Jovie had lost a lot of blood and was fading fast. He had made it in the nick of time.
He was still in his towel, her dried blood on him. Arcade had cleaned her up, and he did a great job in helping her. Raul would be on crutches for a while, and they weren't sure when Jovie would be back in commission, not that they cared. They were just glad she had survived. Cass and Veronica had taken her armor and clothing to repair and wash the blood out as much as they could. Her bra and shirt were useless, so they got her a newer pair. Lily would make this god-awful soup, which she insisted Boone try to feed to Jovie. He would give it to Rex, making Lily think that he was feeding it to Jovie. As much as Lily was crazy, Boone actually liked her. Boone thought everyone in the 38 was all right, to be honest.
There was a knock on the door, and Cass came in, shutting the door behind her. In her arms was a bucket of hot water and a sponge. "I reckon since you're not gonna leave her side, I'd bring ya this so you could get the blood off ya. I'll get your clothes in a minute."
She sat the bucket down beside Boone, who muttered a thanks. Her hands went to her hips as she looked from Boone to Jovie.
"Arc says she's gonna be just fine. You really should get some sleep. Don't know what you're all worried for."
He didn't look at her. "Me either."
Cass sighed, reached for a chair, and pulled it up beside him, plopping down on it. "Carla, right?" His eyes darted to her, and she shrugged. "You talk in your sleep."
Boone relocated his eyes back to Jovie. "That was her name. Yeah."
"She ain't her."
"What? I know that, Cass."
"Don't you get any mixed feelin's," Cass harshly spoke. "Jovie's a good gal. She got me out and helped me when no one else could. She feels bad what happened to ya, and to be honest, I think she likes ya. But she knows." Boone clenched his jaw. "Be nice to her. But don't give her false hope."
Boone felt like breaking something. "Listen, Cass. Carla's gone. I know that. And it hurts like hell. Jovie kinda... helps, I guess? She's peaceful."
Cass laughed. "Peaceful? Jovie?"
"Outside of fighting for our lives, yeah. She's peaceful."
Cass studied the sleeping Jovie for a bit then nodded. "Reckon I can see that. Yeah." She then leaned back in her chair. "You're confused." Boone threw his hand out with a grunt, waving off her comment. "Don't you do that. You know you're confused."
"How about you mind your business?"
Cass rose to her feet with a grin and headed to the door. "And that is the answer to my question." She reached for the knob. "Clean up and put some clothes on, will ya? Wouldn't wanna embarrass her when she wakes up, do you?"
She left the room, closing the door behind her. Angrily, Boone reached down in the hot water, grabbed the sponge, brought it out of the water and rung it out, going over his torso where she had bled on him, washing off her dirt, blood, grime, but not his confusion and the questions he had.