Why oh why do I do this to Boone? No matter what I write he never gets his gal. Sign me up for a one-way trip to hell… Contents courtesy of a Fallout kinkmeme prompt (minor revisions from the posted version).
WARNING: This story contains disturbing language, violence and sexual content. Not for the squeamish!
As always thoughts/comments/reviews welcome. Characters, Locations, etc. are the property of Bethesda/Zenimax and respective owners.
"Not exactly the vacation I had imagined. These have got to be the worst cabana boys ever, huh Boone?" Unable to resist, the Courier threw an exaggerated wink at her companion.
The blow wasn't unexpected, but was surprising in strength. As she tasted the bloom of copper in her mouth, she had to reflect on the wisdom of taunting her captors. Fucking idiot!
Still, it kept them off of Boone. Their glee at capturing him was palpable. Most Legionaries were unaware of his presence until the felt the sting of a .308 extinguishing their miserable existence. Of her ragtag group of misfits, he was the most hated. His blood soaked form was testament to this fact.
She allowed herself a moment of relief when she saw Boone stir a little, and tried to quell the nervous worry in her heart. Consciousness was good – as long as the Legion fucks didn't notice. She tested the ropes at her back again; almost through. She gave silent thanks that the Legion wasn't into creature comforts. It had taken her a bit to find a rock within reach that had a edge rough enough to wear through the ropes, but her patience was paying off. Now to get one of these mouth breathers close enough.
"Now I know you Legion fellas aren't really into the beauty of a female form, but you can't at least give me the comfort of a back rub? Sure Boone's got that whole tall dark and handsome thing going, but come on! I'm getting a little lonely over here."
Dodging a kick would normally be a walk in the park, but the tent pole she was tethered to seemed determined to foul things up for her. The Courier wished she could double-over, not that that would alleviate the sharp pain. It would be nice to have options though. Stupid fucking tent pole!
"Never liked that rib any way," she coughed. "There's something to be said for a little flexibility." She gave her assailant a saucy smirk, and was pleasantly surprised that she was able to suppress the grimace of pain.
"You really are a stupid bitch, aren't you?" Mr. Obscenely Large Boots stepped closer; pulling out his nicked machete in what he probably thought was a menacing gesture. Almost.
"You really know your bitches, I'll give you that. Tell me, was it the refusal of your fellow soldiers that drove you to the comforts of the canine variety? Or can you just not resist a bitch in heat?" The smirk came more easily this time.
With an unintelligible growl, the Legion Recruit grabbed a fistful of her hair and pressed the machete to her neck. Before he could utter whatever pitiful comeback he could barely come up with, the Courier took her shot.
Snapping the ropes took her more strength than she had hoped for, and thankfully didn't end up dislocating her shoulder. Mr. Kicks wasn't expecting any resistance, so turning the machete in his grasp was easy. The Courier launched herself up at him, driving the machete into his stomach as she did so.
As he toppled to the ground, gurgling profanity with her atop him, the Courier fought to keep herself from doubling over in pain. Like to see the fucker kick me now.
She barely had time to stand, pulling the machete free as she did so, before the remaining two Legionaries overcame their shock and launched into action. She parried one clumsy strike as the other landed a glancing blow on her shoulder. Her light leather armor was built to leave movement unhindered, and not for blocking machete blows. She ignored the fire in her shoulder, thankful that nothing important had been severed.
Adrenaline was the only thing keeping her going now. Her rib and shoulder barely registered as she danced around the two looking for an opening while trying to keep one in the way of the other. Thankfully the brutes weren't the thinking types, and the closest launched an overhand swing. The Courier rolled forward under the strike, bringing up her machete into his stomach as she did so. Unfortunately, the machete was a sorry affair in the first place, and chose this moment to bind in the Legionaries' armor.
She shoved the poor fool into his comrade behind him. The soldier dodged the body clumsily, right into her waiting boot knife. The man had no chance to respond as she slit his throat.
The adrenaline high was wearing out as her brain flew through priorities. She sliced through Boone's bonds and quickly located their packs. He was conscious, but wasn't very responsive. The Courier ignored her own pain as she grabbed the first aid pack. She quickly administered a Med-X and a couple of stimpacks to her prone companion.
"Boone, honey, come on!" She cradled his head in her lap waiting for the meds to kick in. "We don't have a lot of time. We need to-" Her head exploded in a nova of pain as a ballistic fist took her across the jaw.
"Restrain him." Everything sounded distant against the whine in her ears. "And get these bodies out of here."
"So, we meet again. I'm disappointed you didn't make the right choice when we offered it to you. I don't know why I ever expected more from a woman." She felt a hand grip her hair and yank her upright.
Her vision swam, and she couldn't control her limbs. Groggily, she realized the whine she heard in her ears was coming from her. If her jaw wasn't broken it might have even been a scream. Slowly her brain started piecing together what her eyes were reporting.
Lucius. Panic raced through her. What was he doing out of the Fort? For the first time in her life, the Courier felt complete helplessness overwhelm her. Legion Recruits, Veterans, and hell even a few Centurions didn't stand a chance against her in the end… but Lucius… No doubt there were even a few Praetorians around as well. Lady luck had fully deserted her.
She belatedly registered frantic grunts emanating from Boone. She could barely make out his form in her watery vision. They had tied him up again, and thrown in a gag to boot. Why did I have to drag him in to this? It hurt almost more than she could bear. Hell, she had died once already, this was nothing new. But Boone… he had just gotten his life back after Bitter Springs. She had grown closer to him in the weeks since than she had ever hoped. Tears stung her eyes as she thought of their first passionate kiss after starting this jaunt in the first place. His life meant more to her than her own, and now she had ruined it.
"You have caused us quite some trouble." Her eyes were drawn back to her captors face as he interrupted her self pity. "I wanted to see that we had you in hand personally. Caesar will be pleased." Lucius made the statement as dispassionately as he would Caesar's laundry.
The Courier coughed out what would have been a curse, but the pain made her stop before more than a gurgle of blood came out.
"Tongue deserted you? As befits a profligate woman." The fist in her hair tightened, and Lucius flung her back down to the ground. The pain of her jaw striking the ground nearly sent her unconscious. She could only grunt in response.
"My men are quite eager to put you in your place, as you can imagine." Lucius picked up her discarded boot knife and stood tapping thoughtfully it against the palm of his hands. "I trust you have no more surprises left in store for us?"
She tried to kick at him when he started using the knife to strip her of her leathers. Her head was still swimming and her aim was off. Effortlessly, Lucius caught her foot in his grip and twisted. The pain in her knee as it was wrenched around was nothing to the explosion of pain in her ankle as the bones were broken. It almost made her forget the pain in her jaw, that was until she opened her mouth to scream.
Lucius and continued stripping her, not deigning to acknowledge her futile resistance. The Courier's vision was filled with the sight of a pool of blood stretching like an impassable sea between herself and Boone. As she watched Boone struggle against his restraints, she wondered distractedly how much of it was hers, and how much belonged to the Legionaries she killed. Better to think of that than see the man she was almost sure she loved helplessly watch her torture.
"On your knees." The Courier's head swam as she struggled to comply. It was no use. She had no strength left, and every time she tried to lift herself up the pain left her shaking with nausea. Fucker threw me to the ground, now he wants me upright? She wished her jaw was intact so she could educate Lucius on the absurdity of his request. Upon further reflection, she had to admit to herself that maybe it was a good thing.
Her thoughts were broken off as she was forcibly lifted by her arm. She fought to remain upright. Every time she began to slouch, the pain of her broken rib jolted her.
"A slave needs to learn to obey the first time." Taking the arm, he wrenched it behind her. She could only grunt as he pulled it out of socket. The pain was nothing like that in her jaw. Lucius pulled her head close to his. She could feel his breath against her ear. "Be thankful that is not what we have planned for you."
Death then, or maybe crucifixion. Probably doesn't want to give me any more opportunities to cull his ranks. Small comfort. She tried to ignore the futile struggles of Boone a few feet away.
Lucius stood swiftly and paced around her. He appeared to be surveying his handiwork, and had pulled his cock free of his armor, stroking as he paced. Sick fuck. The Courier glared him as menacingly as she could manage. Being naked and wounded made it hard, but she thought maybe she was pulling it off.
Maybe she had. Lucius' face remained impassive as he backhanded her on the jaw he had previously broken. Her face was aflame with pain that didn't fade as she landed on the dislocated shoulder. She whimpered in pain, wishing her brain would do her the courtesy of sending her unconscious.
As she lay writhing in pain, she heard Boone's grunts punctuated by the familiar sound of boots against flesh. She groaned, and tried to sit upright, knowing they would turn attention back to her. She was rewarded with her face being planted against the ground as Lucius lifted her ass up onto bent knees.
A second later, she was thankful for the pain of her broken bones to focus on as Lucius thrust himself into her. The pain as he took her in the ass seemed such a small thing in comparison. The lack of lubrication caused tearing that she registered in a dazed state. She knew she was bleeding, which absurdly made it easier on the parts that weren't torn.
The Courier closed her eyes tight against the tears welling, hoping against hope that Boone couldn't see. She was a big girl, she knew what denigrates did to captives. That Boone was here, and worse was a helpless witness stung more than anything Lucius or his thugs could do to her.
It was over fairly quickly. With a grunt, Lucius grabbed her hips painfully and gave a last shuddering thrust into her. Thankfully, he wasn't much into pillow talk. Lucius stood quickly, wiping himself off on her discarded leathers.
"Do what you will with the courier. See to it that she dies a fitting death." Lead settled in the Courier's belly. She had been hoping for a quick crucifixion. Lounging around on a cross sounds pretty good right about now.
Lucius turned to her. "Ave. We will not meet again." With that Lucius strode from the tent, and the Courier was suddenly aware of the presence of the five grinning Legionaries left in the tent.
The Courier noted that she was feeling lightheaded. Must be blood loss. The thought that five measly Legionaries would cause her too feel faint was absurd. A cave full of deathclaws couldn't do it, so there was no way in hell she would give them the satisfaction of thinking they made her quake in her boots. Lucius was another thing, but he was gone now. He had gotten off on his control over her, the deliberate way in which he was able to break her body. These fellas had none of his... Class is definitely not the word I'm looking for.
Boone apparently had enough of the passive show and tell, and was determined to get acquainted with the boots and blades of the Legion grunts. Fuck. This is like a fucked up popularity contest. She wished for a moment that she hadn't administered the Med-X and stimpacks. At least then, he would still be out of it.
One of the fucks was taking the bait, a Veteran by the look of it. He started pulling his machete as he took the first steps towards Boone. The Courier sighed inwardly. This is going to hurt.
She took two deep painful breaths, trying to ignore her rib's protests, as she focused. It was important not to pass out, not if she wanted to keep Boone relatively unscathed.
It came out haltingly at first, as all the Legion brutes turned to her trying to figure out what the hell was going on. After a few moments, it was clear that the Courier was laughing. Not prettily, but a deep-throated laughter that occasionally lapsed into blood-filled coughing fits.
This has got to be the hardest thing I've ever done. At least it was having the desired effect, she had the attention of all five again. Each wore expressions with varying degrees of rage and hatred. One recruit on the end almost looked horrified. That made the laughter come a little easier.
Time to turn this up a notch. Steeling herself for what she knew was going to come, the Courier gave her ass a suggestive shake, ignoring the alarm bells her body was giving off.
She almost couldn't keep up with the frenzy of action she had set off. She could only focus on keeping herself breathing as they laid into her with fists and boots. They definitely weren't the most creative bunch. A couple times she was sure she kissed unconsciousness, but was always dragged back.
The largest guy finally shoved the rest aside and flopped her on her back. Her head was spinning as she tried to figure out what was going on.
"Is this what you wanted, you profligate whore?" He hissed the words out as he lifted her hips from the ground. She was almost surprised when she felt him slide into her womanhood. Probably didn't want to invite comparison to Lucius. The thought drifted up from out of nowhere and almost made her snort. Still, it was better than being beaten, unless the beating was severe enough to end her quickly. She tried to get her brain back up to speed. Clarity was the secret to survival.
She almost couldn't feel the man sliding in and out of her. Her body was a cacophony of complaints. She needed to find some way to end this, to make them lose their heads. She needed to take control of the situation. Boone could hate her later.
Despite the complaints of her body, she made herself hitch her hips up against him. She let out a low moan, and tried to keep pain out of it as much as possible. She briefly thought about running her tongue across her upper lip, but her mangled face would make that an exercise in futility. Okay, this is the hardest thing I've ever done.
"Fucking whore is practically begging for it." One of the oh-so-bright grunts jeered.
The Legion soldier fucking her let out a grunt of surprise. Not so fun now, huh asshole? She closed her eyes and concentrated on controlling his movements inside her. She slowed her breathing and tried to make her moans as convincing as possible. After a few moments of slow deliberate strokes, she began lifting her hips against him harder and faster. She tried to ignore the leaded feeling of her limbs and the growing nausea in her stomach. This was the only way she had to fight back now. Any way to rob them of their pleasure was worth it.
The Courier almost let out a sigh of relief when the Legionary pulled out of her with an angry growl. Instead, she made herself let out a disappointed moan.
"Fucking bitch doesn't deserve anything but a death at the hands of the Legion!" His angry pronouncement was accompanied by cheers from the others. Big words coming from the man who couldn't keep it up. She wasn't surprised the others were going along with it. She had heard stories of treatment of soldiers who didn't obey.
She glanced over at Boone. His mouth was a rictus of anger, but it was nothing compared to his eyes. They were the eyes of a man who had nothing to lose. He'd lost it all already; she was just salt in the wound. She wished she could say something, wished her jaw was whole enough to allow her to form more than an inarticulate groan. Then again, maybe it wouldn't have made a difference. She was never good at goodbyes.
Her eyes were drawn back to Mr. Flaccid as he pulled his machete with a ring that resounded in the too-silent tent. She hated him, she hated all of them. They were taking her life, but they had already stole something from her that was more important than that. She struggled against her leaden limbs, fighting to gain the strength for at least one more gesture of defiance. The Courier let out a low, feral growl that didn't do her feelings any justice.
She didn't even see the blast of plasma that took him down. He stumbled backward silently, and the sound of ED-E's battle music washed through the tent. It was over too quickly in her mind. The five legionaries stood no chance against the assaulting force. Gunshots rang out, accompanied by the hiss of plasma that lit up the faces of Arcade, Cass and Raul as they took down the bastards in a way that only she would think of as beautiful. In the nights to come, she would replay each of their deaths over and over in her mind. Later, they told her that she had passed out before they reached her side.
Their deaths still rang in her head when she woke the smell of Abraxo and Med-X, which made her grimace. Her jaw lit up in protest, but she could tell by the dulled pain that it was well on it's way towards healing. She gingerly tested the rest of her limbs, grateful that they were all there to register their protests.
The empty, dimly lit suite suited her mood just fine, and she was almost angry when Arcade pushed his head in through a crack in the door.
"So our intrepid Hero comes to." She could tell by his forced cheerfulness that there was unpleasantness coming. Normally they would ping-pong increasingly absurd quips between them, but she just couldn't summon the will to do it.
"Boone?" She told herself the pain she felt as she said the name came from her mending jaw. Might as well get right to it. She knew what was coming, and the uncomfortable way Arcade shifted in place confirmed it.
"He uhh... He left you this letter." Arcade stepped forward and handed her the letter. "He said you would understand."
She did, and didn't blame him. She looked at the letter in her hand impassively. She had spotted it in his armor before, and she knew all NCR carried one for friends and family in the event of their death.
"Thanks." She looked up at Arcade, who looked acutely uncomfortable. "I think I need a little more rest."
Arcade nodded, "You know where I am if you need me, or if your bandages need changing." He left the room with a quickness that would have amused her if her mind wasn't already racing.
Boone had the right idea. The NCR, House, Yes-Man, they all wanted to use her to solve their problems. She'd played the hero to their whims before, but now the Legion had made it personal. Let them squabble about the Mojave and New Vegas. All she wanted – no, all she needed – now was to bring down Caesar and his curs. They were all going to pay.
With a start, she realized that she had crumpled Boone's letter in her fist. She carefully straightened it and gingerly placed it on her beside table unopened.
She glanced at the 10mm on the table next to it, and grinned maniacally. Her brain was working with her for a change. Guns were never the answer. First stop was Dr. Usanagi for all the implants her body could handle, then some time in intensive training. The Legion liked to fight up close and personal, well she would give them up close and personal. And blood is going to run.