A/N

Well I've decided to take a break on my other story and do this one since I've sorta hit a brick wall.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout, only the characters I made.

Description: This is a story of how one man can change everything. A mysterious stranger stumbles upon the Courier after she has been shot and gets involved. They become traveling compainions and set out to get back at whoever wronged them. The influence of the man will change the fate of the Mojave Desert. OCxFCourier.

Enjoy the story and please review to tell me if you liked it or hated it.


All the difference in the world

Chapter 1: New beginnings

It seems that wherever there is evil or chaos, a single being must rise to take the position of hero or villain. They either fight for everyone or for only themselves. All over this post-apocalyptic world there have been few to step forth and take responsibility for setting things right. Most are too consumed by greed or self-preservation to place others needs before their own. Luckily for mankind, such selfless people do exist. Whether it be in Southern California, Washington D.C, or in this case Nevada Las Vegas. At least that's what it used to be called. Now it's been renamed New Vegas. This is the story of how one man can change the fate of possibly the entire world.

Benny lifted the small remains of his cigarette to his lips and took a final inhale before discarding it to the ground. He tightened his grip on the handle of his custom made Colt 9mm, "Maria" as he had named it. He was feeling a bit uneasy as the young girl kneeling in the dirt glared defiantly up at him, even though she was securely tied up.

"I swear when I get my hands on you, oooh you're gonna get it!" She yelled venomously. Benny simply chuckled and said. "Sorry honey, but I don't think you'll get the chance." He glanced over his shoulder to check his men's progress on digging a hole. They had just climbed out of it and nodded their heads as they wiped sweat from their brow. He smiled at the signal. "Well, it seems that your time on this Earth has just been shortened babe." She began shouting obscene insults at him as Benny looked on in amusement. He raised his gun and took aim at her head. She tensed up and was immediately silenced. Fear was now adorning her features instead of anger. Her eyes widened as she began to shake.

Benny just continued smirking. "You see, in the end you're just little girl who's in way over her head." He cocked the hammer back on his gun. "Sorry kid, you never stood a chance. The game was rigged from the start." A shot rang out as the young woman's head was flung back. Her body crumpled to the ground and she remained unmoving as a small puddle of blood began to gather around her head, soaking into the dirt.

Jessup, a Great Khan who had been standing back spoke up. "Alright now can we get out of here so I can get paid?" He said anxiously. Benny gave him an annoyed look. "What's your problem, you'll get your money don't worry." The Khan became slightly angry. "I just don't like getting involved with little worms like you."

Benny just dismissed him as he turned around and lit up another cigarette. Blowing a puff into the night air he holstered his pistol. "Alright get her in the ground and let's wrap this up, I need stiff drink." He pulled a Platinum colored poker chip from his coat pocket and examined it as he walked from the cemetery. 'All this trouble for something so small.' He mused as he took another drag from his cigarette.

One of the henchmen grabbed a shovel to help burry the recently deceased. He narrowed his eyes as he gazed into the distance. He dropped the long tool and retrieved a pair of binoculars from his bag. Raising them to his face he scanned the landscape. Through his enhanced vision he saw a cloud of dust being trailed down a road about a mile away. "Hmm, that's odd." He mumbled to himself. "Hey come on, we ain't got all night!" One of the other men yelled. He almost dropped his binoculars as he was jolted out of his thoughts. He quickly stowed them away and got back to the job at hand.

Not too far from the cemetery was a small traveling caravan. They were about a miles walk from the small town of Goodsprings. Oscar the manager of this little outfit was trudging a long slowly, occasionally taking a swig from his canteen. He slowed his pace until he stopped walking all together, his company soon followed suit. The others looked at him curiously. He turned his head as a low rumbling sound was heard. In the distance he saw a cloud of dust approaching from the west.

"What do you suppose that is?" One of the other men asked. Oscar just shrugged his shoulders as he drew his 357 revolver. "Hell if I know, but let's just hope it's friendly." He said. The number of times strangers had attacked them unprovoked and without warning was ridiculous. Last week they had lost Craig to a group of those drug crazy raiders. If they were lucky this would be someone looking for trade. But what could possibly be making that dust cloud?

Soon it came close enough to see a silhouette in the middle of the cloud. Oscar's eyes grew wide as he recognized the shape. 'I haven't seen one of those in years.' He thought to himself. The mysterious object came into and was verified as a motorcycle. Everyone was pretty surprised that someone had actually gotten one of those things to work. However no one was as surprised as Oscar. He seemed to be the only one to notice that this wasn't your ordinary motorcycle. Because unlike every other vehicle around New Vegas. This one ran on gas.

The small vehicle came to a stop as the dust settled behind it. The motor died as the figured riding it stepped off and removed his helmet. He was male, stood at about 5'10 in height, short dark brown hair, and two different colored eyes. The right eye was dark blue while the left was grey with a tinge of blue. He had an average body build but had well developed muscles, as did most in the wasteland. He wore black leather armor with his left arm completely covered by the sleeve while the right appeared to have been cut short a few inches above the elbow. A medium length machete was strapped to his back in a fashion that would be easiest to grab with his left arm. On his waste was a belt that held an assortment of smaller weapons that varied from hand grenades to a 9mm Berretta that was positioned on his right hip. And finally, strapped to his right leg was a lever action shotgun.

The unknown stranger studied everything about the small caravan until he looked right at Oscar and said. "You wouldn't happen to sell ammo by any chance?" He asked. The tenseness in the group was washed away and one of the men released a breath of relief that he didn't realize he was holding. Oscar holstered his weapon and replied. "Sure do, what are ya looking for?"

The man stepped forward and answered. "Well I'm running a bit low on shotgun shells." Oscar nodded his head and began rummaging through a few bags hanging from a Brahmin. "What kind of shells are ya looking for?" Oscar asked as he continued sorting through his ammo supply. "I need some 20 gauge shells, also do you have any gasoline I could buy?" The stranger asked.

Oscar turned around with a box of the requested ammo. "I believe we have some, although it isn't much considering it's supposed to be used for a flamethrower and I'm guessing ya need it for that." He glanced at the motorcycle. "If ya don't mind me asking, where did ya get one of those?" The stranger looked at his vehicle before turning back to the man next to him. "Well that's a long story and I'm a bit short on time."

Oscar just nodded his head before shouting over his shoulder. "Jimmy, fetch some gasoline for this man would ya?" One of the men started searching through bags looking for the gas. Oscar handed the stranger the ammo box before stepping back to give him space. The other man proceeded to slide the shells into slots on his belt, the few that were left over he placed in his pocket. "How much for the ammo and gas?" The stranger asked.

"That'll be about 40 caps." Oscar replied. The stranger raised his eyebrow. "That's pretty cheap considering what all I'm getting." He said as he pulled out a bag of caps and paid him. Usually when he bought gas for his motorcycle he would be charged quite a bit for it. Oscar shrugged and said. "Well not many people use flamethrowers anymore, so I might as well sell it for cheap and be rid of it."

The stranger smiled and thanked him for it. Then he looked around and asked. "Is there a place called Goodsprings near here?" Oscar nodded his head and pointed towards a large hill. "Right up there is a cemetery, and just past that is the place you're looking for. Although I should warn ya, right before ya got here we heard a gunshot coming from that direction." The stranger thanked him for the warning.

The man who had been searching for the gas returned with a small metal gas can that seemed to be a little over halfway full. He handed it over to the stranger who nodded in return. He then placed it in a leather bag that was hanging from the side of his motorcycle. He bid the caravan goodbye and was on his way, heading towards the cemetery.

Before long he neared the large hill. He stopped about a quarter mile short of his destination. If there were hostiles then it would be best not to notify them of his presence. He pulled the keys from the ignition before pushing the motorcycle in between a couple of dead bushes. It may not be much for concealment but something was better than nothing, there was no way he would let his precious transportation be stolen.

Once he thought his work was satisfactory, he quietly trekked his way up the hill. As soon as he could climb without having to use his hands, he slid his sidearm from its holster readied himself for combat. It didn't take long to reach the top. He heard a couple voices arguing. He couldn't quite make out what they were saying. They were complaining about how it was unfair that they had to do all the work or something like that.

He crouched lowly so they wouldn't see him. A small broken wooden fence provided good cover as he continued his spying. Two men were shoveling dirt into a hole in the center of the cemetery. There was a lantern a few feet away from them to help illuminate the area. He was curious as to what they were burying, but couldn't see what was in the hole. 'It's most likely a body, which would explain the gunshot.' He thought. A patch of dried blood not far from the hole confirmed his theory.

Stealth wasn't really his strong suit. He preferred to just take the problem head on. Assert himself, as his father had put it when he encouraged him not to run away from his fears as a child. So that's just what he did.

Stepping through a missing part in the fence, he strolled right up to the men casually and stopped a short distance from them. "Nice night for a stroll eh?" He commented sincerely with a grin on his face. The two other men halted their digging and froze, starring at the man with looks of belief on their faces. Said man then leaned a little closer and peered into the hole. Some of the limbs of whatever poor soul was in there were still visible.

"Friend of yours?" He asked. The men glanced at each other before returning their sites to the stranger before them. He was about to further pursue in his odd method of interrogation before he saw a movement from the grave. A hand that was protruding from the freshly piled dirt twitched. The person was alive! He looked closely at it. The hand was small as well as very lithe. The skin was smooth and pale beneath the layer of dirt that covered it.

His brow furrowed. Anger began to boil inside of him. He could tell by the looking at the hand that whoever was buried under there was female. And a young female at that. These men- No not men, these animals had been burying a young girl. On top of that she was still alive! He had always had a soft spot for women and children. This was unacceptable.

Apparently his rage did not go by unnoticed by the other men. The one on the left had dropped his shovel as he reached for his weapon. However he was not nearly fast enough. He was thrown to the ground by the force of the impact dealt by the bullet that was now lodged in his cranium. The man on the right dropped his shovel and raised his hands to the air in a sign of surrender. He fared no better than his counterpart as a bullet tore through his left eye and exited through the back of his head. Blood and brain matter was spattered all over the ground.

He rushed to the hole, tossing his gun to the side he slid into the opening in the ground and began digging with haste. Using a shovel would be too dangerous; he might accidently hit the girl. So instead he began scooping the dirt out with his hands. Soon he had a good majority uncovered. He stopped digging and began pulling her out of the dirt. With a strong tug he wrenched her free from the dirt. He brushed the dirt and sand from her face as he held her. The side of her face as well as her hair was drenched in blood. He felt for a pulse. She had one but it was so weak that he almost missed it.

"Don't worry, I'm gonna get you some help so stay with me here." He said reassuringly. She didn't respond so he knew he had to get her to a doctor and fast. He heard footsteps behind him, followed by someone shouting. "What the hell!" He turned to see a man in a checkered suit grasping a shinny looking gun in his hand. Before he could react the man raised his gun and fired. The shot hit him directly in the chest. He tumbled into the hole with the young girl landing on top of him. While the bullet didn't pierce his armor, it still knocked the wind out of him. His vision was blurring and it started to darken.

Muffled voices were heard from above. "Damn it! I don't have time for this, someone's bound to show up with all the noise going on and we don't have time to bury both." Another voice that sounded equally as pissed was also heard. "We should leave, who cares if the bodies are found." The other voice responded. "Yeah I guess it really doesn't matter, let's just high tail it outta here before things get any worse."

His vision blacked out completely, it cleared up a short time later enough to see a large shadow looming over them. "Well ya'll look like you've seen better days." Said a voice in a heavy southern accent. The voice faded away as he was soon overcome by unconsciousness.


A/N

Thanks for reading my story. Review to tell me what you think. If there was something that you didn't like then please tell me. I welcome criticism.