Carla wishes there was water below her, instead of rocks and sand.
She didn't think she had it in her to jump, but it'd be nice if there was something beautiful to land on instead of the remnants of a dead world. She would have walked all the way to the Colorado, but the incessant kicking in her stomach would have had something to say about it. She looks around the dead Mojave Desert. She has no idea where she is. She's never been this far out before. Oh, Craig is going to be so angry at her when she makes her way back.
If she ever makes her way back.
She looks down at the ground again, disgusted at the way she has to arch her neck to see past her swollen belly. Women are usually happy when they're with child, aren't they? But she can only think of the baby in her belly as an anchor tethering her to Novac, a place she hates with her very soul. She'd only agreed to move there because Craig had wanted it. She rubs her belly absently, taking a step toward the ledge. She can't find it in herself to blame Craig. She loves him too much. Probably a little more than she should. She takes another step, and startles when she feels the wind dance across her skin. She's really high up. She wonders if it'll hurt, wonders how Craig will feel. He's strong. He'll be able to move on without her. She doesn't know what she'd do if he were to die. And the thought of Craig keeps her from taking that last step.
Craig, oh Craig! What am I doing?
"''Scuse me, ma'am," a quiet voice asks. Carla screams and loses her footing. She closes her eyes as she waits the sudden stop that never comes. When she opens them, a dusty woman in a cowboy hat is pulling her back onto the cliff. Carla's nose scrunches up at the woman's smell. How long had it been since she bathed?
"What are you doing?" she asks coldly once the woman gently sets her down.
"I was trying not to startle ya," the woman says sheepishly, her hand rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry 'bout that, ma'am."
"What are you doing here?" Carla asks as she ungracefully scrambles to her feet.
"Well, I saw ya up here and thought ya might be in some sort of trouble," the woman says, eyeing her closely.
"What business of yours if I was?" Carla asks harshly. The woman doesn't even flinch.
"Now, what kinda person would I be if I didn't help a lady in need?"
"I don't need your help," Carla snaps. She doubles over in pain as her stomach contracts. The woman is at her side instantly, propping her up on her shoulder.
"Where ya from, ma'am? We need to get ya home," the woman says quietly.
"I don't-I don't want-" Carla croaks out between choked gasps of pain. The woman nods, and gently pulls her into sitting position, away from the cliff.
"All right, ma'am. We can wait here until ya feel better," the woman offers. Despite herself, Carla leans against the other woman's shoulder, tears falling into the fabric of her armor.
"Why are you helping me?" she asks quietly. "I've done nothing but act rudely toward you since you got here." The other woman laughs.
"Ma'am, I reckon ya have a reason to be ornery," she says, gesturing to Carla's stomach. " Ya ain't hurt my feelings none." Carla turns her head away from the other woman, suddenly ashamed. "So, why are ya all the way up here, ma'am?"
"Just thinking," she answers vaguely, not wanting to admit how close she had been to jumping.
"This ain't exactly the safest place in the Mojave. Anything ya want to talk about?" the other woman asks, fishing two bottles of water from her pack. She hands one to Carla, and she takes it gratefully.
"Th-thank you," she says. "Well, I-not really." The other woman fixes her disapproving gaze on Carla's, and she can't help but compare the other woman's eyes to Craig's baby blues.
"Must be a helluva thing if ya were considering jumping," she says. Carla jerks away from her, spilling water down the front of her dress. The dress that Craig had salvaged as a surprise, because she wouldn't stop complaining about the scratchy fabric Cliff was selling. He'd had it mended up to the best of his ability, and she doesn't even remember if she'd thanked him for it-
"How dare you!" she cries, tears stinging her eyes again. "You don't know anything about me! You-" she falters underneath the woman's gaze. "You don't know what it's like."
"I would if ya told me, ma'am," she says softly. And so Carla tells her. About how much she loved the Strip's lights. Tells her about how she met Craig on the Strip when he was on leave, about how she fell instantly in love with him. Tells her about Manny, and moving to Novac, and how she'd alienated herself from everyone in town because she couldn't stand being so far away from the bustling of the city. Before it's all said and done, Carla finds herself crying into the woman's shoulder, not caring anymore if it had been days or weeks since she'd bathed.
"So this Craig fella, your husband. Ya love him a lot, don't ya ma'am?" Carla nods.
"He's the only thing that keeps me going," she sniffs miserably. The other woman rubs circles on her lower back.
"If ya feel this strongly about him, imagine how he'd feel if ya did jump," she says.
"He's strong. He'd move on. I-I don't deserve him. He'd be better off without me," she hiccups, wiping her eyes furiously.
"Now, I'm sure he wouldn't feel that way," the woman says kindly. "Come on. Let's get ya home. We're an awful long way from Novac. Ya have some kind of luck to make it here intact without any sort of weapon." Carla nods, and allows the woman to pull her up. She leans on the other woman, and thinks awkwardly about how heavy she must be. The other woman doesn't complain, instead smiling warmly at her.
"What about you?" Carla asks, partly to pass the time and partly because she's genuinely interested. "Where are you from?" The woman looks surprised at the question.
"I'm not really from anywhere. I'm a courier," she explains. "I'm on my way back from NCR, and making a delivery to the Strip."
"Oh. I'm making you double back," Carla says guiltily
"S'no trouble, ma'am. I always love seeing that giant dinosaur ya'll have," she says, and Carla laughs.
"Dinky? Oh, my husband hates that thing. Says it attracts weirdos from all around-" she stops, looking at her new companion. "Oh, not that you're a weirdo." She laughs.
"Ma'am, I'm pretty odd," she says. "Tell me about your husband."
"Oh, Craig is the absolute utmost," Carla says happily. "He was a First Recon sniper back when he was a soldier."
"First Recon, huh? I'll tell ya what, those boys are tough. I'd definitely want them on my side in a fight." She leads Carla with questions that she surprisingly finds herself happy to answer, and before she knows it, Dinky comes into view. She can make out a red beret pacing frantically outside the fence, and feels a surge of guilt well up in her chest. Craig stops, gun aimed at the other woman before seeing Carla. His face relaxes, and he holsters his rifle before running to them. Carla tries not to wince when she sees Manny not far behind.
"Carla!" Craig cries, relief evident in his voice. The other woman steps back as he throws his arms around her. "Where were you? I was so worried."
"Yeah," Manny demands. "What the hell where you doing?"
"I-I went for a walk," she stammers, looking at the other woman desperately. She catches her eye and winks.
"She wasn't that far from here. I flagged her down, asking if ya'll were doing tours of the dinosaur," she says, gesturing toward Dinky. Manny turns to glare at her.
"What kind of stupid-"
"Manny, knock it off," Craig says, annoyed. "What matters is that she's safe." He smiles at Carla, and her heart sinks. He turns to the other woman. "Thank you." She waves it off.
"S'no trouble, sir," she says, tipping her cowboy hat to him. "It was a pleasure to meet Miss Carla." Carla breaks away from Craig to hug her.
"Thank you," she whispers. She smiles, patting her on the head.
"Ya be sure to talk to your husband. He loves ya a lot," she answers, and Carla nods vigorously.
"I will."
The woman walks into Dinky the Dinosaur months later, and Craig Boone aims his rifle at her.
"God damn it," he swears. "Don't sneak up on me like that! What do you want?" She tilts her head, as if sizing him up. He sees two fresh scars lining her face from temple to cheek.
"Sorry. Didn't mean to startle ya. Ya expecting someone?" she asks. Boone lowers his rifle, looking at her. She doesn't seem to remember him, and doesn't seem to remember Carla. Good. It's better that way.
"Yeah, but not like you," he answers, taking a look at her cowboy hat. She looks the exact same way she did the last time he saw her. He can almost see Carla next to her. "Huh. Maybe it should've been you I was expecting all along."