Fitcher Here: Howdy partner! Welcome to 'Wasteland Blues'. This is going to be my first long fanfiction and is essentially going to be a telling of F:NV with a F!Courier but won't follow the game word by word or quest by quest. Things will be shaken up a bit to make it more interesting. It will also be a F!Courier/Vulpes fic. As a warning it is a New Vegas fic so it will have swearing, drugs, murder etc. So anyone who isn't into that may not want to read it.

This was beta'd by R3aper and written by me.

Enjoy.

CHAPTER ONE

AIN'T THAT A KICK IN THE HEAD

The bright orange light of the Mojave sun blinded her seconds before the searing pain set in. Her head burned like the surface of the sun, demanding that she stay down on the bed. But she couldn't. Everything in her screamed at her body to sit up and lay back down at the same time. It was like strings were attached to her limbs and pulled at her in every direction, spasming and twitching before one overcame the other and she shot up gasping for air.

The room around her spun, and everything was fuzzy as if she'd had one too many bottles of whiskey. Her entire head ached like someone had taken a pickaxe to her skull and was still trying to bash it in, sending her doubling over in pain. The stale stench of dust mixed with sharp disinfectant wafted in the air around her along with the faint metallic scent of old blood. Her stomach swirled. Her mind raced. Everything was going too fast, moving too fast. She needed to breathe.

"Woah! Easy now." A pair of rough hands stopped her swaying and lay her back down onto the bed. Nausea built in her stomach as she tried to speak but found her voice unwilling to comply.

"Calm down there kid before you give yourself a heart attack. That's the last thing you need right now." the voice crooned, holding her hand as she tried to blink away the white spots and fog.

"Wha-what?" she stuttered. "Wh-h-e-where?" The face focused into that of a man with thinning white hair and bushy moustache. Soft wrinkles lined his sun-kissed face, becoming more pronounced as he smiled softly at her.

"Why don't you just relax a second." he said. "Get your bearings. Let me see what the damage is. Now, do you want to try and sit up?" It took her a moment to think then she nodded only to regret that decision immediately. With every move of her head the pain returned, but she needed to sit up. Needed to know where she was. She pushed herself up with his help, this time the world only spinning a bit more than it should, but not enough to send her into a panic.

"You better?" She nodded. "Good. Means that my patch up job went as well as I'd hoped. Now, first things first. Can you tell me your name?"

Her name? Of course she knew that. It was...It was...

"I...umm. I'm..."

"It's okay. I'll give you a minute."

It was then she realised she knew nothing. Not her name, her age or what she looked like. Everything was a mash of pictures like someone had taken her life, muddled it up and thrown it in the fire only to return the singed pieces like a sadistic souvenir.

Her name. She could almost taste it. It began with an S.

"Your name was on the delivery notice I found on ya." he said, noting she was having trouble. "But I couldn't recognise the spelling. Sa-rose or Sa-rise or something. Last name Song."

"Seer-sha." she said, the name coming to her like a thunderclap. "Saoirse Song."

"Good. At least you're remembering that much. I'm Doc Mitchell. Welcome to Goodsprings." He stood and grabbed a mirror off a side table close by. "I hope you don't mind but I had to go rooting around in your noggin' to get all the bits of led out. I take pride in my needlework but you'd better tell me if I left anything out of place." She took the mirror he offered, her hand still trembling. Bushy curls of ginger hair that framed her face were pushed out of the way by a bandage wrapped around her head. It looked as if she'd put on a bandanna crooked rather than she' was recovering from a bullet wound. Her eyes widened. A golden gun and chequered suit. A gunshot.

"I was shot." she said, her face blank at the realization she almost died.

"Yeah. It was quite bad if ask me but I was able to do what I could."

"You did good." she replied, her voice blank. Everything seemed to be in place. Seemed to be familiar. She continued to stare at her own reflection as if it would reveal to her what had happened. Pale blue eyes staring into each other with a stare she could only describe as wild. Confused.

"Here. Drink this." she took the bottle of water and downed it in one breath. The Doc smiled when she handed it back and muttered a thank you as her cheeks went red.

"I don't want to rush you but how 'bout you try walking a bit. Might as well if you're talkin's fine."

With a small nod she pushed the sheets off her half naked body and tried to stand. Her legs shook from days of laying idle, the muscles becoming weak. Then her knees buckled.

"Woah." Doc Mitchell cried, grabbing her. "Take it easy now. One step at a time."

Taking a deep breath she stood on her own, taking several steps. "Good show. Now try walking over to that Vigor-Tester machine over there."

Her steps were slow to begin with, like a child, but with each one she grew more confident until there was only a slight limp in her step.

"Well done. You're doing better than I thought you would. Go ahead and give the Vigor-Tester a try. We'll learn right quick if you got back all your facilities."

With a faint frown she pressed the button, holding the handle as she waited for the results.

"Well would you look at that." Doc Mitchell smiled, looking at the intelligence rating. A wave of pride washed over her and she couldn't help but smile. A nine. Maybe she wasn't an idiot after all.

"Maybe them bullets went and did your head some good. But that don't mean they didn't leave you nuttier than a bighorner dropping." He reached out and took her arm, allowing her to lean on him. "Come sit on the couch. Just need to ask ya a few questions. See if your dogs are till barkin'."

The questions took no longer than five minutes. They were simple enough but it still took her several moments to think of answers, as if her brain was still trying to make up connections.

"We'll that's all she wrote." Doc finished, placing the clipboard on his lap. "If you want some light reading I've got the delivery notice you were carrying with you. Hope you don't mind but I took a look through your things to see if you had any identification on you. All ya had was the notice with your name on it. Funny same Saoirse Song. Don't think I've heard it before though. Here. Take a look."

She took the notice from him and tried reading the words but everything was blurred. As if she was looking at it through fogged glass.

"I..I can't see it." Doc Mitchell pursed his lips and stood.

"You may need reading glasses. May be an effect of the bullet but you never know if you were born with it. It's a common issue." He came back moments later with several pairs of glasses in different styles.

"Don't know what your prescription is so just pick the pair that help ya see right."

Several pairs were duds but as she put in the final pair the world became clear again, the words on the page as obvious as the nose on her face. She could still read. That was a welcome bonus.

"Thank you." she said, picking up the delivery notice.

Name-Saoirse Song.

Courier No: Six of Six

Package 6 of 6

Deliver the package at the north entrance to the Vegas strip, by way of Freeside. An agent of the recipient will meet you at the checkpoint, take possession of the package, and pay for the delivery. Bring the payment to Johnson Nash at the Mojave Express agency in Primm.

Bonus on completion: 250 caps

MANIFEST

This package contains:

One (1) Oversized Chip, composed of Platinum.

CONTRACT PENALTIES

You are an authorised agent of the Mojave Express Package until the delivery is complete and payment has been processed, contractually obligated to complete this transaction and materially responsible for any malfeasance or loss. Failure to deliver to the proper recipient may result in forfeiture of your advance and bonus, criminal charges, and/or pursuit by mercenary reclamation teams. The Mojave Express is not responsible for any injury or loss of life you experience as result of said reclamation efforts.

Saoirse frowned. A poker chip? That's what she'd been shot for?

"Here." Saoirse jumped at the sound of the Doc's voice, embarrassed that she hadn't heard him coming. Now she understood why her perception score was low. He held out a blue and yellow jumpsuit, the number twenty one sewn on the back. "I got you this while I was looking for the glasses. Was my wife's. I think she was about your size and she hardly wore after we left the vault. Felt it was too...brazen."

She took the jumpsuit from him. "I..." she trailed off, her mind too muddled to make up a sentence that was logical. "I don't know how to thank you Doc."

"Not getting shot in the head again would do it. I think you should stay here a couple a days. I want to keep an eye on that wound and make sure your brain isn't fully scrambled. You will have some side effects and symptoms that'll make it hard to travel the Mojave without getting another bullet to the head. Better to know what they are before you leave then get an unpleasant surprise on the road."

"You've already done so much..."

"Don't mention it. It's what I'm here for after all. And there's not much sense in me fixing you up only to let you back out only half done."

He let her change in the bathroom, leaving her to her own thoughts. Her mind rung like a bell and blood rushed under her skin, down to her toes. She paused for a moment and listened as the Doc switch on his radio, the crooning and comforting music muffled through the wooden door and slowly the calm façade she'd been able uphold since awaking collapsed into desperate confusion. She had no idea who she was. All she had was a name and a delivery notice for a Platinum Chip she couldn't even remember having. She needed to get to the bottom of it. To find out exactly what had happened with the man in the chequered coat. And who the hell she was.

She closed her eyes and leaned against the sink. It was as if her thoughts were all tangled together like pieces of string stretched to their full capacity and intersecting all over the place. She needed to calm down and think. To think back to what had happened.

"Hush little baby don't say a word."

Her breath caught in her throat. That wasn't right.

"Daddy's going to buy you a mocking bird."

The voice resonated in her head. Male, smooth and crooning as if talking to a child. She whirled around. The bathroom was as empty as ever. She turned back to the sink and washed her face in the irradiated water. It was warm but still helped relax her frazzled nerves. She needed to get out. If only for a moment she needed to walk around and do something other than wallow in her own thoughts.

When she left the bathroom Doc Mitchell sat on his couch reading one of his many books.

"Would you mind if I wandered 'round town for a bit?" she asked. He looked up from his reading and without warning her mouth went dry. Why was it so hard to ask?

"Just to get my bearings and ask about the men who shot me."

Doc Mitchell shrugged with a small smile. "Go right ahead. Might help jog your memory. I'd recommend talking to some of the people down in the saloon, or the metal fella, Victor. He's the one that dragged you outta your grave. Just be sure to return here if you head starts givin' you bother 'kay?"

She nodded and went to leave the Doc shot up, as if he'd remembered something.

"One minute. Just remembered somethin'."

He left to his surgery. She could hear his rummaging around for several moments, along with random muttering before he returned with something in his arms. It was about half the size of a forearm, painted gray with a small window and several dials.

"They call it a Pip-Boy. I grew up in one a them vaults made before the war. We all got one. Ain't much use to me now but you might want such a thing after what you've been through. I know what it's like having something taken from you." he slipped it onto her arm and smiled. "It's shockproof, waterproof, mostly bulletproof and it'll help you find your way around the Mojave more than your noggin'. It can also get some radio stations if you're so inclined."

She opened her mouth to say something but words left her. The gift was insanely valuable. He had already given her a second chance at life. Show owed her more than she would ever be able to repay and he didn't even know who she was.

"Thank you Doc." she said earnestly. "I shouldn't be long I just have need to...move my legs."

"Unstandable. Just come right in when you're ready, no need to knock. Come on, I'll show you to the door."

She thanked him again when he lead her to the door and opened it for her.

"You can save your thank you's for someone who deserves them. You've thanked me enough already."

"You deserved so much more than thanks doc." she smiled. "I'll be back soon."

"Oh, before I forget. You should try talking to Sunny Smiles at some point before you decide to leave town. She'll be able to help you learn to fend for yourself out there in the desert. If she ain't at the saloon she'll be at the water pipe. Wouldn't recommend going down there alone though. Geckos are attracted to the place and the last thing you need is a gecko bite."

With that she left Doc Mitchell's house, stepping out into the sunlight for the first time since she could remember.

A/N: Thanks for reading. Please tell me what you think even if it's bad!