This is my first Fallout story and it prominently features the Courier and Veronica. I'm starting at the point in the story where the two of them meet, but details about who the Courier is and the choices he's made before the meeting Veronica will be revealed in the narrative. I'm always open to feedback, so let me know what you think!

Disclaimer: I do not own Fallout.

Awakening: The Wildcard of the Mojave

Chapter 1: A Girl and her Gauntlet

He looked like a mess back then and that was putting it mildly. Because towns charged for the use of their water pumps and because there were no natural sources of clean water around, most of the water he did buy was used to quench his thirst and to clean any wounds he ended up getting. Occasionally, he'd be able to buy some soap together to clean his gray duster, his other clothes, and himself, but those days were rare. Most of the money he made was drained quickly on food, supplies, and repairing his weapons. Following the apocalypse, a clean gun was far more important than clean clothes.

Despite all of that, the young man couldn't help but smile as he walked along the dusty road that carried him north. Rarely was the temperature in the Mojave lukewarm, but that day, a few clouds blocked the unforgiving sun. He had grown accustomed to the heat after running packages on that side of the old United States, but even so, he completely understood where some of the NCR soldiers were coming from, wishing for a nuclear winter two centuries after the warheads fell. But not that day. Maybe it was because it was November. Maybe that was why the temperature had dropped. A cool breeze brushed past his face, pushing his dirty-blonde hair a little in the process. When he touched his hair to push it back into place, its texture reminded him how badly he needed a shower. Even just for a minute.

Of course, Boulder City's pipes are still broken. I would have spent the last of my caps for a quick rinse. But he let the thought go almost as quickly as it arrived when his mind returned to why he was going to New Vegas. It wasn't because of the package that he was supposed to deliver from when he was working as a courier or because of the gambling, booze, and women within the sinful city (appealing as those latter things were.) It was about "Checkers", or Benny, as Jessup had called him. The courier felt for the old lighter that the Great Khan had given to him the day before after negotiating for the group's escort out of Boulder City. It was still in his pocket, and he gave it a quick pat. Soon, he would find that asshole, and one way or another, he was either going to get his answers or his revenge; whichever came first.

Up ahead was a trading post that sat on two bridges that were built for the cars of the old world. It was conveniently set up to catch the almost empty-handed suckers that came stumbling back from Vegas. It wasn't all that far away from Boulder City, but given that Boulder City was practically a ghost town, the post probably had something worth trading for. Not like the weather-beaten man had much on him that he was willing to trade, but he did need a few more bullets. His submachine gun would need a refill for the road ahead.

"Welcome to the 188!" a woman greeted from behind a sales table under the husk of an old bus.

The courier waved in return but kept walking. As a food vendor, she probably wasn't selling what he needed. He had enough food to last until he reached Freeside… well, almost enough. The Pork n' Beans cans that he had would probably last him the trip there, but he could scavenge for wild plants and geckos if he really needed to. Nothing that he wasn't used to already.

"Hey," called out another person in an unmistakably feminine sounding voice. The man looked over to see the woman that called him and was briefly intrigued. She was a little thing, barely over five feet tall, wearing old robes and a hood that covered her hair, only leaving her face exposed. She did have a pretty face, especially given that her skin was exceptionally pale; a rare thing to see in the sunburnt Mojave. What was also intriguing was what she wore on her right hand: one of those power fist things.

Cute girl, weird clothes, power fist… what a combination. Still, not what I'm looking for. He kept walking, continuing over to a woman standing near a pack brahmin that had boxes of surplus loaded on its back.

"You sell ammo?" he asked as he approached. "I need some 10mm bullets. Do you have a hundred or so?"

"Sure, friend," she replied, the eagerness of making a sale rushing into her eyes. "Hundred caps for a hundred bullets sound alright?"

"Ninety caps," he pushed, keeping his friendliness present enough to make the deal, but remaining stern enough to remind her that he was being serious.

"Ninety-five," she said in an equally business-mannered tone. "I'm not going to give ten percent off to somebody unless they're a ranger. Rangers need these more than you, no offense."

"None taken," he answered, slightly groaning. He thought about stealing NCR armor just for the sake of getting discounts from certain vendors, but he knew the risk outweighed the reward.

"Ninety-five works. I don't have the caps though, so…" He took off his backpack and began the unloading process. Two 10mm pistols, one old 9mm, one .357, and a broken varmint rifle that he had broken down into smaller pieces. Finally, he brandished a machete; the spare that he had packed away. Unlike the rest of the weaponry he offered up, the sword one was in half-decent condition. It was sad to give it away though, seeing as it was a gift and all. But he also felt a sense of relief. Holding onto it made him feel uneasy like he was being watched. He didn't need that extra paranoia plaguing him.

"Jesus, kid, these guns are shit. What'd you do, shoot rocks out of them?" The dealer scowled as she evaluated the condition of the wares she was given. It was true. They were shit. But to be fair, they weren't his originally.

"Jackals and Powder Gangers don't know how to take care of their toys," he responded in a monotone voice. Though he'd probably never see the trader again, he wanted her to think that he was competent enough to care for his weapons.

"Okay killer, I hear you," she added with a light laugh. "You must be tough to handle those sons of bitches. Like a trained killer or some shi…" Her eyes narrowed as she stared at the machete. "This one's in good shape though… definitely Legion made." She looked up, suspicious. "Where did you get this?"

His alertness shot up. He knew what was being implied and he knew what to say. "Saw one of those Bull scouts on the road. NCR must have gotten to him. Or ghouls. I don't care. I liked it, so I took it." He looked into her eyes, trying to lighten the mood with a smile. "What, do I look like one of those skirts to you?"

"No, I guess not," she admitted, still not trusting him. "You look tough, but you don't look like one of those bastards or like the type that could kill them. Again, no offense. But you gotta be careful about looting those guys, you know. Legion don't take well to that." She looked back down at the weaponry, compiling a price. "This is about one hundred caps altogether. I'll throw you five caps too to balance it out."

"Fine by me," he agreed. After the transaction completed, he gave her a nod. "You take care of yourself."

"Yeah… you to." She didn't trust him; that look in her eyes gave it all away. But he couldn't blame her. For the most part, nobody trusted anybody in the world they lived in.

"Time to head north again…" Looking at his Pip-Boy, he checked the direction. "North's that way…" He began to walk northward, but he barely made it ten steps before he was stopped.

"Is that a Pip-Boy?"

The young man turned around to see that it was the intriguing girl with the hood again. She was staring at the vault device on his arm with curiosity and then she glanced back at him. She was even cuter up close, but her approach made him nervous. This girl was behaving way too friendly. In the wastes, that was not always a good sign. Experience dictated that sudden bouts of friendliness typically led to somebody getting mugged or killed. But given that there was an NCR weapons dealer several feet away, he felt slightly more secure. Still, he eyed that gauntlet on the girl's right hand, ready to dodge a sucker punch.

"Yeah…" he answered, looking northward again as he was getting anxious just standing there. "Look, I need to get go-"

"Where'd you get that?" she asked. "Those things are pretty rare."

He felt a little annoyed now. The young woman sounded like a genuinely friendly person, but he did not want to put up with that. He gave her false smile and answered her

"A friend of mine gave it to me. He used to live in a vault. Look, Miss, I'd love to stay and chat, but I-"

"You mind if I look at it? You know, for scientific reasons?" She asked this so innocently and before the young man could say no, she lifted his arm by the metal contraption and began to study it.

"Please, don't-"

"Never seen one of these up close. It's amazing what these things can do. Does this one have a V.A.T.S. on it, or is it one of the older models without it?"

"It has V.A.T.S.," he answered, gently pulling his arm away from the curious, hooded girl. "Listen, no offense, but this is getting a little weird. I don't even know you and-"

"Oh…" She took a step back, her pale cheeks filling with color. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I just got carried away with seeing that tech. You know how it is; you see something shiny and you gotta check it out, right?"

"Yeah…?" Geeze, this chick is odd. Like she's never been out in the real world… or at least my world. Still, he felt a little bad about pushing her away. Strange as she was, there was something about her that was warm. That genuine sense of… genuineness… if that made any sense. "Look, I'm sorry. I like to talk with people, I really do. Thing is, lately, I've been involved in some stuff and I'm a bit paranoid because of it, so-"

The young woman chuckled and interrupted him. "I understand. You lonesome drifters need your brooding space and what not. It's a tough world out there." She began scanning his outfit from head to toe, paying special attention to his road-beaten shoes before looking back at his five o'clock shadowed face. "No offense, but you look like you've traveled a long way down some bad roads. I bet your shoes would have quite the story to tell if they could talk. Where'd you come from?"

"That's…" The young man's voice trailed off as he tried to think of a good answer. Personal? A long story? He didn't want to really talk about that stuff with her, given that he barely knew her. But because he liked something about the hooded stranger, he decided to play around with her. With a smirk, he answered, "Would you believe me if I said the grave?"

She chuckled awkwardly. "Ha, I don't know if I'd believe that, but if that were true, I'd admit that you look pretty good, given the circumstances. Are you supposed to be a zombie or something?"

"Please, do I look like a ghoul to you?" he quipped.

"Well, no. But whatever the case, it's good to meet you." She held out her hand. "I'm Veronica. I live in a hole in the ground."

He didn't shake her hand, but he liked how she said that last part so casually. "A hole in the ground? Like a vault or a bunker or something?"

"A bunker, if you want to get technical," she answered him, still cheery. "I just think it sounds more interesting my way. But I'm not there much anymore anyway. I'm usually out here picking up food and supplies for my family. Whatever they need. Somebody needs to get the groceries, you know? They can take care of themselves otherwise though. Besides, these days, I think they'd rather have me out here anyway. But that's a whole other story."

Geeze, you're very forthcoming. Gonna dictate your memoir to me next?

Somewhere during her explanation, Veronica seemed to pick up on the fact that she was dominating the conversation. "So, you seem kind of quiet. Do you mind if I ask you about yourself? Your name, what you do, stuff like that?"

The courier felt his paranoia kick in at those questions. Lately, he hadn't felt so comfortable giving away his name or anything about himself in general, as he was intent on remaining anonymous. After getting robbed that last time, it was the last thing that he had left that couldn't be taken from him.

"Look, I don't really feel comfortable giving that away. It's not you, I just-"

"Oh, I understand," she interrupted, seemingly unfazed. "Not everybody feels comfortable about that sort of thing. I mean, I do, but I guess I'm just more open about some of that stuff."

He felt a little bad. Veronica did tell him a bit about herself, so he felt as though he ought to return the favor to some extent. "Well, to answer some questions for you, I'm not always this quiet. But lately… I am… was a courier. Things have changed a little bit." That was the simplified version of the story, at least.

"A courier, huh?" she questioned. The woman's eyes lit up suddenly. "You hear about that story about the courier in Goodsprings that got shot in the head and lived?"

Again, he felt his heart skip with paranoia. He was incredibly thankful that she didn't pick up on his comment about 'rising from the grave' earlier, combined with the fact that he mentioned that he was a courier. But he decided to squash her beliefs on that subject.

"That's a bullshit story. I've been to Goodsprings and I can tell you that nothing like that happened. Either they made up some sort of tall tale to attract tourists or that poor sucker died. How many people have you met that survived a shot to the skull?"

"Not many," she replied, her smile growing slightly. "I like you, stranger. You seem like a good guy, but you're riddled in mystery, almost enough to be cliché or something. So, I can tell you don't want to get personal, but can I ask you something on the level?"

"That depends on what's being asked," he replied, feeling uncomfortable again. Compared most of the people out in the Mojave Desert, this girl was a breath of fresh air, but he didn't like how every sentence between them became personal, despite barely knowing each other.

"Well," she started, "recently, I had a run-in with this group calling themselves the Brotherhood of Steel. Pretty strange bunch." Her gaze suddenly turned inquisitive and curious. "Do you know anything about them?"

The courier frowned at the very name. The Brotherhood had always been an enigma to him, as well as to most people in the wasteland, though he had enough experience with them to form a few of his own opinions. He knew that they didn't mix well with others and that their goals of technological preservation often led to them taking certain technologies such as energy weapons away from any they considered outsiders. There was a time when they had worked in tandem with the NCR, but that relationship deteriorated as the two factions warred with each other over tech, such as the stuff at HELIOS One, whatever it was. The way he saw it, the group was to be avoided, and they were the primary reason he didn't use energy weapons. In fact, just wearing his pip-boy made him feel uneasy. Tech like that wasn't common. As far as his personal opinions went, he didn't care for them much either, but he usually kept his reasons to himself.

"I don't know much about them," he answered, shrugging his shoulders. "I've heard a lot of stories though about them harassing people over advanced tech. If I saw them around, I'd probably keep walking and take care to hide my pip-boy."

"Yeah, that's probably best," Veronica agreed. "From what I hear, though, they mostly keep to themselves. You'll probably be fine, so long as you keep to yourself as well."

"Yeah, well that was the plan to begin with," he replied, but under his smile, he was concerned. Where is she going with this?

"So, where are you going anyway?" she asked, paralleling his thoughts.

"New Vegas Strip," he answered straightforward. That wasn't something that he needed to hide. Most everybody coming through the trading post was probably going to or coming from Vegas. "I've had a few detours, doing some freelance work and what not, but no more. I'm visiting an… an old friend of mine." That was something worth keeping quiet.

"Oh, sounds like a great time," she chirped, clutching her hands together, not reading into the subtext. "I'm not much of a gambler, but the strip sounds like a good time. All the people, the old buildings, the culture in general. It may be dirty, but it sounds like it's worth seeing once." Before the man could speak again, Veronica continued. "Look, I know I just met you, but you look like somebody who could handle himself. There are so many places that'd I'd love to see, but would be too dangerous to go by myself."

Oh great, I see where this is going. She was going to ask him if she could tag along with him, and his feelings on that were really mixed. On the positives, this girl had a nice attitude, was enjoyable to talk with, and was cute to boot. Pretty women were rare in the wastes. In the past month alone, he only saw two other women that he thought were pretty, one being Sunny Smiles back in Good Springs, and the other being that drunken red-head he met at the NCR outpost in the south. But on the other hand, his last traveling companion proved to be bad for his health in more ways than one, despite his marksmanship. Also, if Veronica wanted to tag along, she had no idea what she was getting herself into. He wasn't exactly a knight in shining power armor.

"You've survived so far on your own," he pointed out, looking down at her power gauntlet. "I'm sure you've… punched a lot of things to death out here."

"You ever try to punch a deathclaw?" she joked, smiling again. "That involves getting a little bit too close for comfort. Besides, I'm not that great with a gun and I'd feel safer exploring with somebody else. So please," she asked, putting on her biggest, cheesiest smile, "could we travel together, help each other out? It would be fun!"

"Fun?" Was that really the word she used to describe traveling in the wastes? Fun? Sure, seeing the sites could be fun at times. Dealing with Checkers in New Vegas would be fun. Shooting Med-X was fun. Gambling was fun. Getting laid was fun. But traveling the wastes was fun altogether? He did not agree. "Look, Veronica, you seem like a nice girl, but I don't know about this. I like having company and socializing, but I'm not exactly the most… look, my last traveling companion caused me way too many problems because of his own agenda. It's hard enough already because I live pretty poor and I'm constantly getting tangled up in problems like you wouldn't believe. Also, what about your family? Don't they need you to 'bring back the groceries', as you said?"

She rolled her eyes, though she didn't look annoyed as she did it. "You are so just looking for excuses to get rid of me, aren't you?"

"No, but-"

"Like I said," she continued, "they can handle themselves. It's a big family. There are other people getting supplies, so they won't miss me…" She looked saddened at that last part. "But you have your own problems? That's what I said earlier: I'll help you out if you help me explore. Sound like a fair trade, right?

"A weird trade, more like," he replied. "I'm not exactly a tour guide. Where are you hoping to go? I mean, if it's on the way to Vegas, then sure, we can stop on by, but I kind of have priorities right now."

"Oh, don't worry about that," Veronica replied, not missing a beat. "There is nowhere in particular that I want to go to, really. I'm just hoping to see more of the world, looking for a fresh perspective and all."

A fresh perspective on what, exactly? It was very believable that she lived in a hole in the ground if she figured there was a fresh perspective to be found out in the wastes. Then again, maybe it was his own tired perspective. "Don't take this the wrong way, but you don't look like you have much to offer." He did notice the small pack she had with her and a small 10mm pistol on her waist. "Then again, neither do I. But what do you bring to the table? Are you even good at punching things?"

"The best," she declared, proudly raising her fist embedded in the power glove. "Trust me on this one; you'll be glad you brought me along. I'm great in a fight, believe it or not."

"I believe it, but what about guns? You said you're not so strong with a gun, and that's a little concerning. I mean, no offense to unarmed combatants or anything, but sometimes guns are just safer." He trod carefully on that line, given how he had seen Legion foot soldiers fight effectively against NCR troopers with only spears, machetes, and power gauntlets, but at the same time, running up against somebody with a gun often meant the high risk of getting shot.

Veronica didn't seem to mind his doubting though. It was if she was permanently tuned in to being upbeat. "Okay, you have doubts, I get that. But I promise that I'm not going to run right into open fire or anything. I'd like to think that I'm a bit more clever than that. But look, if you let me come along and you don't think things are working out, we can part ways at any time. No hard feelings, alright?"

"So to reiterate, you want to go traveling with a stranger that you just met so you can see the world, not caring about whom I really am or what I'm doing… That's a little crazy." Understatement of the year in his opinion.

"Call it a hunch," she said, shrugging. "I don't know, you just don't look like a member of the Legion or a psychopath to me, so you're already a good candidate."

"Fair enough, but you really don't know anything about me or what I'm doing, and I'm not about to tell you."

"And if you're a douchebag, I'll leave. The 'not working out' thing works both ways," she answered, shrugging quickly.

"Okay, and one more thing…" the courier looked over at the weapon dealer to make sure that she was preoccupied. "You're right about me. I'm not in the Legion. But I'd rather stay out of their crosshairs if I can help it. You're not going to go attacking them on site, correct?"

Veronica snorted at this question. "Sounds like an easy way to die. Of course not."

"Good. Then…" It wasn't a good idea, but something about this girl seemed like she'd be good to have around. "I can't believe I'm saying this, but if you really want to tag along, I guess-"

"Now you're talking! Thank you!" She clasped her hands together with joy, but as quickly as her excitement came to her, it melted away and she got serious for a moment. "One thing you should know first, though. I asked you about the Brotherhood because I'm one of them."

RED FLAG! He immediately gave her a look of urgency, also looking over to the if the weapons dealer had heard Veronica. She hadn't.

"Keep your voice down," he ordered in a harsh whisper, motioning for her to follow him over a few steps away from the NCR woman. "What the fuck?"

"Look," Veronica whispered back, "I needed to know how you'd react when I told you. We've made a lot of enemies. You still feel comfortable with me following you?"

"I don't know." The young man stared into the Brotherhood girl's face. There was something about her that made him want to trust her… it was probably because she was so damn pretty and a sweetheart by the way she was talking. But looks could be deceiving. She was Brotherhood after all. "Veronica, that makes me feel very conflicted. On one hand, because you say that you were a part of…" He did a quick double take to make sure that they weren't being watched, "them, that tells me that you're probably educated and good at fighting, which may help me overlook the gun thing. That being said, it's incredibly suspicious that a member of them has come up to me, asked me about my Pip-Boy, and now wants to travel with me… How do I know that you're not going to kill me in my sleep, cut off my arm, and take it back to your-"

She couldn't help but laugh at this. "Do you really think I would go through all of this trouble for one Pip-Boy? Besides, it's not my job to go around and steal tech. Even if it was, I wouldn't have told you I was in the Brotherhood… besides, I don't know if I'm really agreeing with them on everything right now, so I won't try to arrest you or anything. If it's okay with you, can we still travel together? I won't hide anything big from you anymore. I promise."

You shouldn't do this. You can't trust her. But for some reason, he couldn't stop himself. His gut was telling him that things would work out with this girl and usually, his gut was trustworthy when it came to potentially risky gambles. "Eh… I'm an idiot for agreeing to this, but yes. You may travel with me." He rubbed his hand against his right temple upon saying this, feeling the indent of the scar that rested there. I'm going to regret this. "But if we're going to do this, we need to lay down some ground rules."

"Sure, spill 'em," she agreed, too eager.

"Alright, but this is going to be a bit strict. After the last guy…" he trailed off, but getting his head back in the conversation, he continued. "First off, if you're traveling with me, this is not a democracy. If you have any input regarding whatever we encounter, I'll gladly hear it out, but my decisions are final. I won't make you do anything you don't want, and if you have a problem with my direction, you can leave anytime. Okay?"

"Whatever you say, dad," Veronica prodded playfully. The weather-beaten young man couldn't help but grin at the quip, but he continued.

"Second, I do a lot of freelance work and scavenging. I'll split whatever I come across with you as I see fit. As long as you travel with me, you'll always have bullets and food. Caps too if I can actually manage to make some. And while some of that stuff can be dangerous, I'll try to keep both of us out of unnecessary danger to the best of my abilities."

"Yeah, I assume we won't be dining first class on our adventure, will we?" Upon seeing the mysterious traveler shrug, she snapped her fingers. "Darn it, I was hoping for seasoned Brahmin burgers on the daily."

"Third," he continued, "and most importantly, don't go punching anybody without my say so. Last thing I need is the Legion on my ass again over some grudge."

"Wow, you're really emphasizing that point with the Legion. What happened anyway?" Veronica's question wasn't answered.

"Finally…" His eyes narrowed and his face took on an even more serious complexion. "Don't pull any shit with me. I get why you didn't tell me about how you're with the Brotherhood at first, but I'm not going to take any more of that. You don't have to tell me your life story if you don't want, but if I feel that you're hiding anything from me that affects me personally, or I think you're trying to con me in any way, we're done. Understand?"

"Perfectly," Veronica answered still unfazed. "You seem like much more of a tight ass than I thought you would though. You're not going to suck all the fun out of our journeys, aren't you?"

"Please, I'm just being professional," he chuckled, touching the back of his head with his Pip-Boy hand. "Once you get to know me-"

"Really?" she cut him off. "How can I get to know you if you won't even tell me your name? Will you tell me anything about yourself?"

"Maybe, eventually, depends on what I think of you. Regardless, if you stick around with me until we reach New Vegas, the first drinks are on me. You have my word."

"I'll hold you to that," she alleged, holding her hound out for him to shake. For a second, he just stared at it, knowing what he should do, but feeling slightly reserved about doing so. But realizing that his mistrust was misplaced, he extended his gloved hand and shook hers firmly.

"Well, thanks for taking a chance on a naive young girl from California with stars in her eyes and a pneumatic gauntlet on her hand," she said, firmly returning the grasp. "I promise you, you won't regret this."

"I'm sure I won't," he returned, smiling awkwardly. He meant it too. Again, there was something about this young woman that was absolutely captivating. This woman, from a bunker, untouched by the harsh wasteland, seemed to be a beacon of purity in a wasteland so harsh and cruel. Still, while he trusted his gut, gut feelings weren't always the pinnacle of truth. "Now, one more question: how many bullets do you have?"

"Enough for now. Why?" Her curiosity arose. "I don't use my gun that much."

"I need to assess your skills. Find some empty bottles. We're going to do some target practice." He noticed that the young woman seemed a bit surprised by this order, but she agreed to it. As the two began to scrounge about the piles of trash that had been scattered about over the years, the young courier began to ponder what would be okay to tell Veronica about himself. Perhaps someday, she would be ready to learn that he was the Courier of Goodsprings that he had denied the existence of earlier. Either that or she would probably figure out herself. What he didn't know was that this lone, robed girl from the hole in the ground would change his life forever and give him the courage that he had been pretending to carry for so long.