He's there. Always there.
Ready to make a move when she screws up, ready to save 's always been there. Day after day since she woke up, headed out on her own.
He doesn't know she remembers him. Hasn't gone looking. Maybe she just hasn't got time.
He tells himself that's it, she simply has not gotten the opportunity to find him, tell him she's all right. Not because she doesn't remember, or doesn't care.
When she meets the fox, the Frumentarii, he doesn't shoot. Has enough self control for that, at least. She does what he says. Tells the NCR the legions deeds.
Why?
She must know her past, the wrongs of the bear and the bull...yet, he cannot help but feel as if she does not.
He approaches he camp late at night when the fire is simply glowing embers. The dog growls but does not alert the courier. Its metal parts glow softly in the light as it sulks back to its makeshift bed.
She isn't asleep. Sits on the ground looking at a line of papers. Drawings, detailed ones. Faces.
He sits next to her and she sighs, perhaps to herself. "I don't remember."
The faces are of family, friends, people from the divide. There's even one of him. He picks it up and she comes to a realization.
"That's you!" The courier gasps. "Who are you?"
"Who are you who does not know your history?" He wants to ask her. He refrains. Slowly he takes off his mask. "I am Ulysses," he replys, his voice threatening to fail him.
Actions speak louder than words, he decides and cups her tiny heart-shaped face in his rough hands. Slowly he kisses her, gently as ever, and to his surprise, she kisses back.
"That is what we were." He tells her as she takes a breath. "You and I. Lovers."/
Tears are pouring down her face through those dark eyes. "I want to remember." She cries. "I need to remember, please."
He shows her.