No White Knights
Prologue
Author's note: First story, so I'm still figuring out how things work so if I get something wrong then do please PM me. The same more or less goes for the story as well, PM or leave a review with any criticism as it would be greatly appreciated in order to improve my writing. On the topic of writing, the first chapter is intentionally vague as I will likely use it for the start of other cross-overs depending on how this one goes. With that, onto disclaimer and then the story.
Disclaimer: I do not own either the Fallout Franchise nor Rwby, they belong to Bethesda and Monty Oum of Rooster Teeth studios respectively. Also, the cover image is from Leo Spartan art's (I think)
EDIT: Due to the death of Monty, I have made this story very AU. Exciting things planned so secret even I don't know it all yet! The basic's of the RWBY story will still be there. However a lot will be changed, so do keep that in mind. Hope you stick around with the story, enjoy~
"Fuck! Fuck! Ah! Almost! Don-," her yell cut out abruptly as her breathing hitched. She sat atop him frozen in ecstasy for a heartbeat as she peaked, then another, until collapsing atop him. Her breath came out harshly as she tried to refill empty and exhausted lungs.
A fun night this was.
Absently the man underneath withdrew himself, enticing a shudder from her and began to rub small circles in her back. After a few long moments she finally sighed. Having finally recuperated enough, she settled onto the man more firmly.
"Could you run your hand through my hair?" She delicately asked. Without a word the man complied. Her drenched short black hair running through scarred fingers. "Thanks." She murmured softly into his neck.
Amazing how she went from yells and moans to something so soft. It caused him to chuckle quietly to himself. Gotta love these brotherhood dams.
They lay there a moment cuddled close until her breathing became more steady and deep. Again a sharp contrast to her earlier erratic and frantic breath. Another dozen minutes or so to make sure she was asleep and then he was up and getting dressed.
"A busy man I am,
I've much to plan and damn." The man muttered to himself as he finished tightening his belt and made ready to leave.
He made it to the door before he paused a moment and peaked back towards her. She'll get cold. He 'tsked' softly to himself and brought the covers over her. There. Turning on his heel he silently left the small room, not making a whisper with his steps.
Outside the harsh sun beat onto his face illuminating his previously shadowed sharp features and also causing him to squint amber eyes slightly even under a pair of sunglasses. Even as a slight breeze whisked through his dirty brown hair. The sun in the Mojave is as unforgiving today as any.
"There you are! Just where have you been?" A familiar Australian accented voice sounded from below him. He didn't bother looking down at her and instead focused on the large green Dinosaur construct yards in front of him. She hated being looked down on after all.
"Top of the morning to you too. Erin." He replied eventually with a sharp grin. He heard a annoyed grunt from below followed by the sounds of footsteps moving up rickety metal stairs. She hadn't worn heels. How delightfully new.
"Where the hell have you been? Also, it's afternoon." She paused to frown a moment before returning to her scolding. "Seriously you're late to your own meeting! Extremely late in fact!" She shouted as she drew to his side. Hopefully she wasn't loud enough to-
"What's going on out here?" Came the slightly hoarse voice of the Brotherhood of Steel Quartermaster, Knight Torres. "Courier? What're you doing?" She blinked in the harsh sun as she spotted him in front of the door.
"For the love of- is this why you're days late?" Erin all but roared in his ear, invading the man's personnel space.
"Good morning or afternoonTorres. To answer your question, I am currently dying." The Courier replied dryly with a regretful frown.
"Death would be a privilege too good for you. Now say good bye to your one nighter and let's get a fucking move on. You're late enough." Erin said with a hint of resignation.
Sighing he turned back to Torres standing in the doorway with nothing save the blanket held up preserving her modesty. "Feel free to stay in my room as long as you want. I've important business to attend to this mor-, afternoon." He corrected at the glare from Erin. "If you need anything just ask one of the residents here. The people here at Novak are rather swell. Well they are now."
Without waiting for a reply the Courier offered a shrug then vaulted the over the railing. Why? Because seriously, fuck stairs.
"Greetings courier! It is always a pleasure to see you here on the strip!" Came the mechanical voice of one of the many securitrons on the strip. The aforementioned lazily waved back at the now beaming securitron, judging by how it pumped out it's metal chassis. Or rather it's face. As in the center of said chassis is a screen that shown a cartoonish grizzled solder. It's face. Screen. Same thing right?
"You know, every time you're here their efficiency seems to improve." Erin spoke from his side as they made their way to the Lucky 38. He glanced back at the securitrons which seemed to have started moving quicker about their tasks. The Courier just shrugged and simply accepted it.
"Who all made it?" He absently asked his 'secretary' as they drew near the tall casino. The whole thing resembled a slim tower covered in flashing lights and signs that read "Lucky 38". Actually resembled one of the old world gambling stations. The center long piece that is, the name really slipped his mind.
Anyways, it's call to fame wasn't fine hookers or sophisticated food, but rather, those that lived within. First The Mr. House, but now The Courier. Erin glanced at him for a moment then sighed, unconsciously brushing back a few strands of her long brown hair. She wore the rest in a neat and clean pony tail. Which was unheard of for most other people. The world was dirty in more ways than just one, yet she somehow managed to not only get clean but stay that way. He liked that about her.
"Other than you? Nearly everyone. The Three Families, Brotherhood, and a Great Khan. As well as reps from all the settlements in the Mojave. Though the boomers said they couldn't make it, Pearl said she would accept anything you decide. Also as you pretty much own Novak, they requested that you represent their interests." Erin said as she opened the doors to the Lucky 38 for him.
Nodding his thanks the Courier stepped though into his home or base of operations more accurately. The dim lights inside illuminated a floor covered in thick red carpet and rows of gambling machines. Each with a layer of dust from disuse.
To his immediate left and right stood two more securitrons and across from them stood another pair. Though the other pair before him were stationed in front of the central and only elevator. Taking a breath he instantly regretted due to the amount of free floating dust in the ever lifeless room; he started to cough his lungs out towards the elevator. He practically stumbled to the elevator and pretty much tripped up the short staircase leading to it. Through bleary eyes he hit the button and entered the small space. Thankfully though, he was saved from trying to make out the buttons inside by Erin. She looked at him and sighed. Immediately after she started coughing too. That's what she gets for her near constant sighing.
"What a *cough* sight we *cough* are." The Courier said with as much mirth as he could manage, which was more than a little. She replied with a hard punch to his ribs. He grinned as he pulled himself together and straightened his dirty white shirt. She too quickly recuperated and straightened her own clothing. A black skirt and white blouse.
The elevator dinged and the courier walked out into his presidential suite. Ignoring everything else He went straight across the hall into his room and began to undress.
"What do you think would be best?" He asked while placing his neatly folded shirt on a drawer. Erin hummed to herself thoughtfully while opening up his closet. "This is business so stick which a black suit."
Nodding his agreement, he continued to undress paying little attention as Erin, with a slightly pink face, grabbed a clean white dress shirt and black dress pants from a dresser across the room. The jingle of a belt buckle and the soft rustle of wool told him she also retrieved his favorite black, trim fit suit. A Tommy Hilfiger Charcoal Plaid Slim Fit to be exact. (He paid a hefty sum for it.)
Everyone had their vice and in this regard the Courier was no different, he had a thing for suits. And many other things but suits hit him the hardest. Sue him.
He placed his neatly folded cargo pants next to his similarly neatly folded shirt. Before he looked down on his attire laid out on his bed. He was about to dress when he noticed there was another piece of clothing. A red pair of boxer-briefs.
The Courier chuckled at Erin's thoroughness before removing his final piece of clothing. Neatly folded, he placed it by the rest before looking to a tomato red Erin.
"You can wait outside you know." Erin jumped and visibly struggled to keep her eyes with his. She opened her mouth to reply but closed it when the first thing to come out was a stutter of garbled words. Instead she nodded her head but didn't move. Shrugging he began to dress. Something he decided to make a game of. The Courier was many things, to be specific an ass and a tease were to name two. He dressed slowly and deliberately showed her little while keeping her wanting more. Her wide eyes followed his slow and deliberate movements with obvious frustration. He was handsome in a roguish, rugged sort of way and played it often to his advantage. Like now.
In the end her face matched his bright red tie very well. It looked cute on her if he were to be honest.
"Ready?" He asked with an incredibly smug grin.
"Fuck you." She shot back before hastily leading the way back to the elevator.
The short ride was a quiet and awkward one. A sharp contrast to what was awaiting them when the doors opened.
Stepping out he was meet with a barrage of arguing and yelling, hell he even heard a few straight forward threats. Sharing a look with Erin the Courier turned the corner into a maelstrom of chaos.
Pacer, The King's left or right hand or something similar was standing with a look of rage on his face as he roared across the table "That's bullshit and you know it! Now you listen here, I will sooner gut you-"
"Now that's implying you can even get close enough before I reduce you to ash for the wind to carry away. The crows won't find a morsel with you." Replied elder McNamara, of the Brotherhood Of Steel in an icy voice. He openly showed his distaste to the man.
"There is no need for such threats or violence to break out. I'm sure that-," started the large green man. In fact a Super Mutant by the name of Marcus who lead a town of similarly large green and sometime blue/purple men. A big softly really, though his anger was terrifying.
"You shut your fucking mouth Mutant! I've about had enough of your god damn voice! If it weren't for-" another person started before they too were interrupted.
"Be silent Cachino, you're a filthy coward that would rather 'your' 'Omeritan thugs' do your dirty work." Mocked the large and burly man known as Papa Khan with air quotes. His beard flared out in aggression and large amounts of manliness. The Courier nearly swooned then and there. -not really-
"Hey, hey now, smooth moves everyone. I'm sure we can all work something out without all this unnecessary chest thumping. Like, hey baby, you don't want any of this bad buis to go down?" Said Swank, head of the Chairmen, one of the three families on the strip; to Sunny Smiles.
"Don't call me baby, 'baby'." She sneered disgustedly.
More mouths opened, most were likely to further heat things. But one beat them all to it.
"Courier! Welcome back!" Veronica yelled in greeting with a beaming smile.
Everyone else promptly shut their mouths and turned to see the aforementioned standing there watching them squabble with open amusement.
Papa Khan looked joyous to see him and was likely to crush the Courier in an overly manly embrace at any moment.
Marcus' eyes bore into him as he gave the Courier a nod of respect and a strained smile. Obviously bothered that he kept most of these men and women around.
Sunny Smile gave the Courier a sunny smile. Trudy also gave one that was noticeably less sunny that also carried a look of expectation. Doc Mitchell gave a warm fatherly smile that pleased him to see.
Elder McNamara gave a tense nod then resumed his staring contest with Pacer. The King shook his head and gave a lopsided grin that could only be described as charismatic and good looking. Julie gave a blank stare that creeped him out a little/lot as it always did.
The three families all gave the confident looks that were their poker faces. Rather adept ones at that. However the Courier had learned them early and could see the subtle fear hidden deep for all of them.
Arcade Gannon gave a sheepish smile and a look of relief. While the rest of the Courier's companions who were not head of organizations or what have you, gave smiles and similar looks of relief. Though Boon just nodded. Not a smiler, that man. Or any other expression that wasn't a sneer really. Though there was a measure of relief there once. Once.
All in all, a lot of them were confident the Courier would take their sides in their petty arguments due to past associations with each group. None of them seemed to have thought that he couldn't have cared less now that the NCR and Legion were gone.
Nonetheless, he would need all of them in the coming days. Well, he would only need their compliance and one way or another he would have it.
"Sorry I'm late." The Courier said with the bright and disarming smile they all knew and each feared a little.
"Only you would be late to your own meeting." Arcade said with a wry grin, enticing few forced chuckles and more genuine from those present. Well his companions knew they had nothing to fear really.
"Already did role call, boss. You're the last to arrive." Rasped Raul, the ghoul mechanic. From his place leaning on the wall behind most everyone. Never did warm to groups of people. The Courier summed it up as a ghoul thing. Most tended to either keep to themselves or those like them.
They all were in the penthouse floor sitting around what was a long, thick rectangular table that was likely meant for dinning. He believed it to be oak but had little to go off that wasn't rotten or in a similarly trashed state. The head of said maybe oak table was, wisely empty. The Courier however was quick to take his rightful seat there.
Behind him stood Erin, ready to offer any words of advice he would need. Or stab him in the back with a pen to let him know to shut up. Though he was good with handling people in many different ways and so doubted he'd need the help. To the Courier's immediate left sat those of GoodSprings; Sunny Smile, Trudy, and Doc Mitchell, in that order. Across from them were the three families, Swank of the Chairmen, Cachino of the Omeritas, and Marjorie of the White Glove Society.
Further down next to them was The King and Pacer, representing Freeside along with Julie who represented Freeside as well as The followers. Across from them and next to the reps of GoodSprings was the Elder McNamara and Arcade. Which surprised him to no end. Perhaps both being hunted forced led them bonding over it? Something to ponder and maybe take advantage of.
Then at the end Papa Khan and Marcus both sat. Speaking of bonds, being both massive they probably bonded over deathclaw wrestling or something suitably manly. The Courier felt a pang of sadness for not being invited, even if only to watch.
"Now let's get this restarted. I've called you all here tod-" Erin poked her pin into the back of his neck; what do you know, he would need it, "three days ago. I called you all here three days ago to discuss exactly where we move from here. The NCR presence is drastically dwindled and the Legion's is nearly obliterated. Meaning we have free reign of the Mojave and all that dwell here."
Everyone looked thoughtful for a moment, sure they all knew that much already but he was just starting with something all knew in so far. "So as a result all areas previously occupied by aforementioned parties and their allies is up for grabs." That is about when they realized all the freed up land and resources left uncontested for. Now was in fact the best time for grabbings. So with that thought, the chaos from earlier paled compared to this.
Some were talking rapid hostile expansion, while others fought to keep what they already owned. This was after all the wasteland, taking what belonged to others was how you lived and how you even thrived. Heated retorts spilled across the table along with threats. Until eventually someone said something that set the topic to something entirely different.
"What if another outside force gets wind of our weakness?" Arcade asked loudly to be heard. It took a moment but eventually everyone's attention was suitably acquired. Though it was mostly from the Courier raising his hand in a silencing gesture. It was to his delight that it worked, albeit a tad slow for his tastes.
"We are not weak." The Courier said simply after everyone turned their attention to him. "Far from it in fact."
Arcade frowned and opened his mouth to say something before he caught the glint in the Courier's eye. Arcade knew that the Courier agreed with him and knew where he was coming from. He wanted Arcade to say it for the others to hear, not for himself. Arcade gave a barely perceivable nod and then turned to everyone else, something he wouldn't have done before due to his distaste of public speaking. The glint in the Courier's eye didn't seem to be asking him to speak, more of telling him to.
Gulping, Arcade made his more than a little nervous 'rebuttal.' "We ourselves may see that we are weak, but others might. A brutal war was just fought over our land and ravaged much of what we had before. Wouldn't someone else see that as a sure sign as a time to ah.. invade and plunder..?" He inwardly cursed at the lousy end but it was already said and done.
"Then we would need a show of strength! Show everyone just how tough we are! That we earned our independence and didn't just have it thrown onto our lap!" Papa Khan roared across the table while throwing up his arms and flexing massive arms. Much to the annoyance to those around him except Marcus who just seemed amused.
"Ah not to break easy with the big guy down there," Began Swank of the Tops. "But that plan doesn't exactly swing easy by me."
"He's right." Majorie, head of the White Glove society threw in, "A show of strength would work I believe, but only if we could manage it. As of now.. I believe we are lacking in terms of strength."
To not be left out, Cachino actually agreed with his two fellow Family leaders. "We ARE weak. Fucking pathetically so. Even with the NCR and Legion fucked up from fighting for so long we had trouble kicking their asses out. Fucking hell we lost a lot with trying to beat the two down too."
The Courier snorted to himself but let everyone else continue, simply content to listen. Erin herself listened intently not entirely liking where this was heading.
"I don't know about all of you but The Brotherhood took minimal losses and has already made up for it in new recruits." Elder McNamara threw in. With that everyone else soon started throwing in how 'well' off they themselves. Papa Khan boasted he had hundreds of Great Khans and just as many super mutants under his banner. All the exaggerating quickly came to an end when again the Courier raised his hand for silence.
"Bloody wonderful that is." He quipped with a wide smile when he had full attention, "Now then I hope everyone is done flexing their muscles, Erin give your report please."
Erin did as was asked and did not exactly relish the amount of attention leveled on her nor the looks of shock she received once she finished listing off everything she had written down. Over the last few weeks after their taking of Hoover Dam and the removal of unwanted forces the Courier had tasked two dozen men and women to do head counts and logistical checks on the capabilities of everyone in the Mojave. The numbers themselves did not give Erin much confidence in their ability to hold off against a large opposing force.
The results were rather grim to say the least. Those gathered who had earlier so puffed up their own abilities had their true weaknesses shown to everyone there. An awkward silence descended, one that the Courier let sit for a moment before breaking it. Well he almost did until someone beat him.
"The NCR," someone whispered to themselves as if reaching a conclusion. One they had overlooked due to it being so outrageous. Heads turned to the one who uttered it, and to everyone's surprise it was McNamara.
"You what?" asked Papa Khan in confusion.
"The NCR is the answer to this problem." McNamara said with no small amount of bitterness. Though under the bitterness was a touch of respect.
"Baby, that just reeks of a bad idea," Swank said with heavy skepticism and caution.
Caution which no one else save the Three Families and Erin picked up on and shared.
"The NCR defeated us at Helios One solely for their ability to throw waves and waves of troops at us. They have the man power and resources in abundance, both of which we desperately need." McNamara continued in his defense. Everyone knew about the B.O.S defeat at Helios One and it's details. A few nodded their heads slowly in realization.
"That's implying they would agree to supply it to someone who very recently kicked them out of a resource they wanted desperately. One they threw a lot of time, caps and effort into. It would be better and save time to just work on other options." Marjorie said deliberately and slowly hoping to quickly put an end to the topic. She failed in her hope.
"They have excess man power and resources among other things we need to properly establish ourselves and recuperate. We have a very large amount of caps sitting around with nothing worthwhile to throw them into and more power than what we know what to do with. Caps and power the NCR desperately needs after throwing so much at the dam. I think we can work something out easily." Doc Mitchell said reminding everyone he was there while nodding sagely to himself.
The others started to join in agreement as well while the Three Families looked at each other nervously. Swank was about to make another objection but before he could, the cause of such nervousness became quite clear to everyone. The Courier slammed his fist down on the table hard, causing those to flinch at the loud crack.
"No." He stated simply with a tight and strained smile on his face before continuing. "Now all of you know that we are just as weak as some would guess. Our best chance now is to cease these petty squabbles between one another. We can either die alone or strive together. It's entirely up to you all. I do however hope you will not allow your differences with those here be the death of all those under you and also that you don't make a foolish choice that would see us revisiting what we fought so hard to gain independence of. Merging together is the only choice really. No need to invite outside help when we are perfectly suited to grow on our own and fend for ourselves." He leaned back as much as he could in the old chair and watched them like a hawk.
Few showed signs of resignation while most showed grim determination. The Mojave had a way of killing off the weak and leaving the strong and determined. Though that usually led to them doing what the Mojave couldn't and finishing the job or rather, each other.
"Now while that may work, it would surely limit us with how little we currently have. We simply don't have the means to reach where we want in any short time-line. Plus with the NCR option we might be able to get relations well enough that we don't have to worry about them retaliating while otherwise we do." Doc Mitchell defended when no one else stepped up.
The Courier for his part remained outwardly calm. But inside, he was hurt from the Doc's disagreement. He genuinely felt betrayed and burned from it. His already tight smile strained further, "We can simply trade for what we need from the surrounding regions. We don't need to NCR to get back on our feet. We did after all just beat not only them but also the Legion back with what we had at the time. Does everyone agree with this proposal?" There was definitely an edge to his voice now. An undercurrent of something that promised harm and brought fear.
"You're not thinking about this reasonably, just list-" Doc Mitchell bravely tried to protest but was cut off by the Courier slamming his fist into the thick oak table, sending splinters and fragments of wood in all directions.
"Do not patronize me old man," he snarled across the table. The once jovial and cheerful Courier that earned the hearts and respect of many gone and dead. Replace now with something primal and frankly terrifying.
"I will not allow anyone else to try to claim this damned wasteland! This is my Mojave. Mine! I have bled for every dammed inch and killed hundreds of men, women, and children to claim this blasted pisshole. I have butchered my way through a centuria (80 man group lead by a Centurion) of legionnaires to wrap my claws around the throat of the so proclaimed 'Tyrant of the East' and I found him wanting. I bashed and crashed my way through swarms of securitrons to tear House from my throne. I tore Caesar's beating heart out while his Praetoian 'elite guard' bled at his feet. I bathed Dry Wells in nuclear flame leaving naught by ash and shed not a tear. I butchered my way through ranger and centurion alike at the bridge. Nothing will stop me from preserving what is mine.
This is my Majove. Nothing will change that, I will take care of anything that threatens it. No NRC, and no Legion is needed."
A deafening silence fell over the meeting. No one dared break it as the Courier meet each of their eyes searching for someone to try to protest. No one dared speak. No one could. They had all heard of the Courier's exploits, heroic or otherwise. But to hear him speak of it in such a way as that he had more horrors to give scared them. In a world where life was hell and death was a constant, where most had taken a life before reaching twenty in order to survive, he could be something worse than it all. That in itself was an incredible feat. The room was silent. Until..
Finally one did dare speak.
Doc Mitchell chuckled softly to himself, earning a glare from the Courier that could flay a giant gecko. "Remember a month after you'd been dug up, when you barged into my house and asked if you could borrow some of my medicinal supplies?" Mitchell asked with a fond smile. The Courier for his part was completely thrown off and didn't know how to respond. Another incredible feat in so short a time.
"When you asked me for that, for some reason I had the idea going on that you had finally lost it and had turned to chems. That's why I didn't just give them to you, you know." A ghost of a smile passed on the Courier's face as Mitchell continued on. "Well for those of you that don't know, this was nearly two years ago. So anyways instead of giving it to him or questioning him on it for fear of him freaking out; you know how addicts get when you ask them about such things. Well anyways instead I just gestured for him to show the way."
By this point the kind old man had every one's rapt attention with his little retelling, and by now the Courier grinned sheepishly and listened as well.
"For what seems like an hour we trekked through the desert, it was a cold night that. One I thought I'd freeze to death on. But mostly I was wondering what possessed me to follow him into the middle of the desert while the stars shone brightly. Heck, I thought he was on drugs and I still followed him out there. Do you know why?" The question seemed to throw many of them off, rapt as they were in the story. They turned and looked to the Courier at his end of the table with only a small amount of worry. What they saw was an openly sheepish looking man who just shrugged his shoulders and said "no" in a voice so soft as to be barely heard. Looking at the sheepish teen now, it was hard to imagine the things he had done.
Doc Mitchell chuckled again and said, "It was because I trusted you. Even as deranged and out there as I thought you were, I still trusted you and so I followed you. But boy was I relived when we arrived at a small cave nearby. In it I saw a Coyote and her pups nearby. The mother wasn't looking to good, wouldn't have lasted past the night which would've been the end for the pups, too young to eat anything but the mother's milk. In the end, even though I don't usually work with animals she was back to her healthy self.
What I'm trying to show you here is that you aren't that monster you believe yourself to be. You have a kind heart and have shown it more than once. I trust you but you need to trust me here as well. If it were only a matter of war I wouldn't talk about bringing back the NCR, but it isn't. They have things we might soon be desperately needing. Trust us please." Mitchell spoke softly and kindly as ever but for once he was pleading.
Sighing the Courier shook his head slowly and ran his hand through his hair. At first those there thought he was denying the kind old man, that is, until he started to laugh. His head reared back as he roared with laughter. Everyone at the table glanced back and forth and shifted uncomfortably until, eventually, the Courier settled down somewhat.
"Fine." The Courier said through eyes bleary with laughter, "Fine, fine! Hah! I'll listen. Alright, I'll gather some gear and head out immediately, if we're going to do this, we're doing it right. I'll be going in person. You are right." He said apologetically, regret written in his eyes. For anyone else, he wouldn't have agreed so quickly. But he had a weak spot for the Doc, the Courier owed him a lot. His kindness was what stayed his hand on many occasions when killing would have been the easier thing to do.
The doc simply chuckled as well, standing and walking over to the Courier who also stood before embraced each other warmly, "thank you." Mitchell said when they broke apart.
"No, thank you. I believe I've been on the war path for too long time. To peaceful times!" He roared to everyone who echoed it back, though less enthusiastically, confused at how fast things were going by. Papa Khan though was unfazed mostly and gave a booming cheer. The man could be the jolliest Santa ever. Just needed to turn grey.
"I'll go down and pack and after I'll come back up and we'll have to have a proper toast and celebrations!" A much more resounding cheer echoed back to him as he and Erin were back in the elevator. The doors closed as discussions began again, though far more peacefully. The idea to come together was still a but touchy but overall, most saw the benefits of it. Doc Mitchell lead the talks now it seemed.
"I love that old man." The Courier suddenly said as he pressed the button to his own personal suite.
Erin looked to the Courier with a raised eyebrow, enticing a small chuckle from him. "Took me in, fixed me, fed me, clothed me and everything while asking nothing in return. He treated me like a son really and I found myself visiting often. Always supported me even when some of the things I did didn't exactly sit well with him. Like he said, he's always trusted me. It's about time I returned the favor really. And before you ask, yeah, that's exactly why I switched over so quickly."
Erin listened to his short explanation with a smile, it was rare for her to see anything so genuine with him. He had hired her a month and a half back but she felt that she never saw him as truly as she did now. But something nagged at her, something told her to pay more attention.
"So he was like a father to you?" She asked as they neared the desired floor. He seemed to consider it a moment before nodding. "What about your real father?"
As soon as the words left her lips the elevator became far too small for her. She felt like screaming and crying out but was frozen. She wanted nothing more than to be as far away as possible from the other thing in the elevator with her. It was like his outburst from earlier but infinitely worse. He hadn't even done anything, she just felt it.
"He's dead." He said in his normal chipper voice. But something horrible felt off about it, something disgusting and horrifying. "o-oh. H-h-how did he.. he die?" she felt herself ask. Why did she ask that? Why? Why? Why? Why?!
"I killed him."
And just like that the doors opened and he stepped out without another word. All the feelings from earlier vanished without a trace. Could she have been imagining things she wondered? Taking a moment to take a breath she followed in after him.
"What will you be taking with you?" She asked aloud, her voice came out as a whisper that she fought to strengthen next time she talk. What was going on?
"Everything of course." His impeccable suit and tie disappeared as an amber light cascaded down it. In an instant it vanished and was replaced with his signature courier outfit. A thick, long sleeved, faded blue shirt under a sleeveless, dirty, thick brown duster appeared in it's place. The duster was covered in individual pieces of riot armor and straps holding pouches. On the center of the back of his duster, a large blue circle outlined with a dozen or so small stars held was painted, in the center was another larger star. From under the starry circle, several red streaks ran down to his waist. For pants he's wearing simple cargo pants with more riot armor strapped to his shins, knees and thighs. At his side rested a 44. magnum. All in all, he fit the western Courier stereotype very well.
He must've thought so too as he materialized on a cowboy hat. He grinned at his reflection as he went about atomizing his weapons and armor he pulled from various chests and dressers. Guns, ammo, random melee weapons, armor, medicine, spare parts, spare clothes and other oddities all went into his Pipboy, how much he could carry, she never knew. But after seeing him empty pretty much empty his room, Erin knew the answer was a lot.
"Well that seems to be everything. While I'm gone you're in charge, I've already told yes-man that you will be so he'll- I mean it will. It will help if you ask probably." He said as they walked back into the elevator. "Wait shit, I forgot my favorite pen!"
Erin chuckled, perhaps earlier had just been her imagination? Or just stress? It had been a rather long and stressful last few weeks. She sighed and stepped out of the elevator before he could. "Hold the door, I got it."
"It's the red one!" He shouted after her, she nodded absently and turned back to give him the finger, but as it were, that's when her world filled with roaring fire.
An explosion rocked the tower, originating from somewhere in the elevator shaft. Whatever the case, one second the Courier was there smiling and laughing, the next he disappeared in an almighty, world shaking conflagration.