Disclaimer : All rights belong to their owner.

Spoilers : This fiction doesn't really spoil anything, but it deals with post-NV/Honest Hearts events.

Rating : M, for strong language, occasional sexual content and violence.

A/N : Julia/Iulia/Six is a personal building which affects the course of the story. Anyway, as my mother language is not English, I may or may not do spelling/grammar/conjugation/syntax mistakes, and I'm sorry if it disturbs you too much. I wish you a great reading, feel free to comment at any time !

Heaven from Hell

I

When she opened her eyes, the first thing she saw was a roof of fabric. I'm in a tent, she deduced. Her vision was blurry, her head was pounding. She remembered nothing of what had happened. Again. Her heart started to beat faster, almost too fast and she tried to remember anything about herself. I come from the Mojave, I was going east to leave everything behind. My name is… No, she didn't have a name anymore. She sighed with relief. This time, she hadn't forgotten everything. Except what had led her in this tent, on this camp bed. When she sat, she felt faint and winced. Whatever had happened, it had been violent. She remembered an explosion, the caravan shattered around her and then… And then this.

She didn't know where she was. She didn't even know if she was still alive or not – she just knew that her whole body hurt too much for her to be dead. She stood up and walked out of the tent very carefully. There was no one around, and actually kinda nothing except some fires, some tents and wooden benches. She walked idly around the camp, trying to get a grasp of what was going on here. Why am I alone ? Is this the purgatory ?

"You're awake," some masculine voice said behind her. She turned around to face its owner. He was sat on a chair, at the top of a small rock cliff. She couldn't really distinguish his face in the dark. "And alive, as it seems.

- That… Is pretty obvious. Unless it's hell and I'm dead.

- God doesn't want you yet, apparently."

She walked toward him, climbed the cliff. The man was fixing guns — .45, probably, without looking at her. His face was covered with white bandages, as well as his neck, hands and every centimetres of skin she could see. What the… Oh Lord. She blinked when she understood whom she was talking to. A legend – an infamous one.

The man was Joshua Graham, the Malpais Legate. The man Caesar had burned after the first battle of Hoover Dam – the man that was supposed to be long dead. It was an open-secret, though, that he had survived and that he was living in Utah, with what remained of the New-Canaanites. She'd personally sent some of her Frumentarii back before the bullet to chase him. None of them had returned. She'd told Vulpes that they would go find him at some point, only to bring his severed head to Caesar. And here I am, finally in front of the most hated man in the Legion. Too bad that the Legion was probably already imploding.

"What happened ? I was in a caravan and then…

- You got attacked by White Legs remnants," he answered. "They destroyed your caravan and killed your group. I don't know if you were close to them, but you have my sympathy.

- How did I survive ? Who found me ?

- A man of mine. He was patrolling when they attacked you. They left you for dead but you seem to have a thick skull."

You don't say. She looked back at herself. She wasn't wearing her clothes – she was in some kinds of military outfit, some suit that looked like his own. She wondered who had taken off her clothes, and realized that most of them were from the Legion. She froze. Maybe he hasn't seen them. Maybe they were all burnt. It was all she could hope for – she was pretty sure the guy wasn't much into Legion stuff since his burning. She brushed the scar on her forehead and sighed.

"Yeah. I've already been told that.

- I'm not surprised, given how many scars you have." He finally turned his head toward her. He had astonishing blue eyes. Why do you Legion guys all have blue eyes ? "It's not usual for a woman to be so scarred.

- It's not the most unusual thing about me, I assure you.

- No, indeed. The most surprising things were your clothes and your weapons. They come from Caesar's Legion."

Nailed it. She sighed and ran a hand across her face. She'd wanted him dead, much like any other legionary of Caesar. She'd forgotten him completely after the bullet. She wasn't a legionary anymore, even if she'd been the new Caesar for a few months. The Legion itself was practically no more. And still it ruined her life.

He didn't turn his eyes, though, and stared at her patiently, waiting for her to reply. She had no idea what to say. "Hey, yeah, well, I've been in the Legion for pretty much all my life and two years from now I would have chopped your head off. But I'm changed, you wouldn't believe how much a bullet in the brain changes a woman !" Not really convincing.

"They do.

- So what are you ? A former slave ?" She couldn't tell if he was curious or furious – you don't know the importance of eyebrows until the moment you face someone that doesn't have them. "You use their clothes, but your snatched the bull.

- Let's say that I share quite a baggage with the Legion.

- Oh. Right."

His eyes started to shine furiously. It wasn't anger or curiosity anymore – it was cruelty. She'd already seen this light in many eyes. In Vulpes', Caesar's, hers. Mainly Vulpes'. She was used to it, it didn't scare her anymore. It was the Legion's trademark. She raised an eyebrow. So someone who nearly got killed by Caesar, he still acted much like one of his men.

"So what did they do to you ? Did they kill all your family in front of your eyes ? Was it your spouse ? Your child ?" His voice was raw, almost feral. "Is it why you were fleeing east ?

- Quae sunt caesaris, caesari," she retorted. He blinked. "But I'm afraid you're completely off beam.

- You know Latin. So who are you, scarred woman ?

- Someone that would've killed you a year ago, Malpais Legate."

They exchanged a long gaze. He was trying to figure out who she was and she was trying to figure out if she was going to be shot again or not. He didn't say anything and continue to inspect his guns without flinching. It was something she was used to, being mistaken for a Legion's victim by actual members of the said Legion – she was a woman, after all, and not the ugliest one. Even if she probably looked like a walking dead body at this point, there were still remnants of her original beauty. I need to take a fucking long bath.

"The head of the Frumentarii who sent me all these men," he said. She couldn't see his lips, but it sounded like he was smiling wryly. "How's Vulpes Inculta ?

- Pretty much like the entirety of the Legion." She shrugged. "Dead.

- Dead ? Who destroyed the Legion ?

- I did. Took control of it, then destroyed it all.

- Hard to believe," Joshua remarked. "When I remember that Caesar called you his heir.

- A bullet in the brain changes many things."

His eyes looked at her scar. He nodded and put down the gun he was playing with. He took the bible that was put next to him and brushed the leathery cover. It's not going to change their fate, mate. She never quite understood the whole religious thing – she had never been a spiritual woman, it was one thing that never changed. Vulpes neither. They were way too practical and down-to-earth to even get the point of following such a restricted corpus of dated values. And way too cruel, back then, to even think of tolerating it.

"You did God's work, then. Even if you don't believe it.

- Spare me your religious speeches, Graham," she sighed. "It's the third time I'm supposed to be dead and I've never seen any holy spirit.

- First time was this bullet of yours, third was this ambush… Second ?

- When I killed Vulpes Inculta and he tried to kill me back. Really thought it was the end, but you may not be entirely wrong ; your God doesn't want me. I must scare him.

- Or perhaps he's the one you're scared of."

She rolled her eyes. Why of course. She knew that one of the two Legion founders, apart from Caesar, had been a Mormon missionary. The bare idea was hilarious, really ; how could a godly man become such a monster ? He was as much guilty as the late Caesar of what they both did to the Mojave, the Arizona and so on. He had as much blood on his hand than him, if not more.

But she was hardly in a position to lecture him, given the amount of blood she had spilled on her path, before and after the bullet. But she still knew that neither was he in such a position. Tired, her head still spinning, she rested on the table the guns were placed and looked around. It was a cave, somehow made liveable. It wasn't the cosiest place she'd ever seen – she missed her Lucky 38's suite, even if it was the only thing she regretted from her departure.

"What is this place ?

- Zion. The shelter of Dead Horses and Sorrows' tribes… And of a very few New-Canaanites. But that you must know, given that you've sent me your assassins.

- I had no idea you were living in a place called Zion," she shrugged. "Plus, those tribes' name are awfully depressing. A Mormon like you should have renamed them, I don't know, Jesus and Mary's people.

- I don't get to choose how they're called.

- Don't fuck with me, Graham. You're not one of them, you must be their warlord or something."

If he had have eyebrows, they would be frowned given the severity of his gaze. As if it wasn't obvious that a man like him would not satisfied himself with this life. He could well be a goody-two-shoes to those people, she knew what he was deep inside. And he was a rabid animal, a bloodthirsty monster. He was the same as her… Somehow.

She wondered if it was that easy to leave such a heavy past behind oneself. If he really felt like nothing had ever happened, like he was some newly born man. If it was… Maybe her life wouldn't be that hard. It was comforting. Let's just not forget that he's been burned alive. She'd been killed three times. Wasn't it just the same ?

"I taught them how to fight, maintain weapon, be strategic," Graham granted. "But I'm not a new Caesar, if that's what you imply.

- Am I ? Why of course I'm not. We both know how disastrous your last experience with Caesarish stuff has been.

- I'd advised you not to forget that we saved you, treated you and protected you while you were into your coma, young woman, and that I'm particularly skilled with those guns in front of me. They could be of some use if ever you'd get a little bit too much irreverent.

- Or," she purred, taking one of them and inspecting it. "I could use one of them to finally kill you. For good old times' sake, y'know."

He took back his gun in her hands and stood up to face her. He was taller than she'd imagined, broader too. The fire hadn't destroyed him as much as Caesar had probably expected it to. Well, firstly he's not dead. She crossed her arms on her chest and looked at him. He was wearing a bulletproof vest, the pre-war kind. He wasn't wrong when he said he could end her life. Tired and aching as she was, she wouldn't be able to flee him for long and she absolutely didn't know where the entrances of the cave were. And even so, she expected men to be guarding those entrances, those tribal guys he seemed to be so proud of. She laughed it off and smiled.

"Fortunately I have no desire to kill another Legion man, I've had enough of you guys' blood on my hand.

- Why did you do that ? Caesar appreciated you, as far as I remember.

- He appreciated me as much as a man like him could appreciate a daughter he thought was a son," she retorted with a sly smile. "The thing is, he wouldn't have believed capable of killing him to take his Legion over.

- You're wrong. He knew you were capable, he just expected his men not to follow a woman." He stopped and chuckled. "His face when he realized you were not a boy. I'll never forget it."

She couldn't help but smile. She remembered it partly – her brain still wasn't completely healed, but she remembered this face. He'd raped her mother during a raid against an enemy tribe but she'd managed to flee and found shelter in New Reno. Unfortunately for her, Caesar wasn't a man to pardon offence. Frumentarii had been sent after her with the express order not to kill any potential male child. She was dressed as a boy, back then, because they only had male clothes and her hair was cut short. The Frumentarii mistaked her for a boy and took her back to her father. She didn't try to correct them – she was old enough as that time to understand that it was probably her only way to survive.

And they trained her like one of the other boys. She surprised them with her skills and everyone liked to say that it all came from her father. Even though she didn't see him much, she knew who he was, what he did – her mother had been clear enough that he was a monster. But as time went by, she forgot everything she'd been told and got shaped into the perfect legionary… Except that she still was a woman. At some point, she couldn't hide it anymore and some trainee spotted her bathing, bare-chested. And his face ! Everyone around didn't know if they were supposed to laugh or to hide. She still was one of the most talented trainees and she still was his offspring. She passed three weeks in a cell and got fifty whippings for her lie. But after that, everything went like before. She even got promoted to the head of the Frumentarii with Vulpes Inculta.

"He was blindfolded by his pride," he continued. "Everyone knew you were not a boy months, maybe years before him. I've seen it the day you were taken to the Fort.

- And you didn't say anything ?

- I thought it was hilarious. And I wanted to see how he would react to you being… Well, a woman. It disappointed me that he didn't kill you.

- I can go back on what I've just said about killing Legion men, you know.

- No, you can't. Since you've been raised within the Legion's ranks, you know that you don't kill a man without a possibility to retreat."

He would know. She shrugged. Of course she wasn't going to kill him – she was there because she wanted to scrap what had happened in the Mojave. Plus, he was right when he said he owed them a debt. She wasn't much into this kind of goodness. But he didn't change anything. He sighed and shook his head, as if he couldn't get a grasp of what this woman really was. You're not the only one who doesn't understand me, pal. He was going to speak again when men entered the cave. He frowned and spoke to them in a weird language. It didn't sound like anything she'd heard before, even if she'd only heard Latin and English her whole life.

The men was glaring at her with curiosity and a bit of suspicion. She was standing really near to their leader and even nearer to his guns. She returned them their stare and they disappeared into another section of the cave. They really looked primitive and, somehow, it disgusted her that this kind of man still existed. Thanks Caesar for that. She almost heard Vulpes voice calling them degenerated profligates. Her heart tightened.

"So what are they ? Dead horses or sad people ?

- Those are Dead Horses," he seriously replied. "I recommend you to be a little bit more respectful with them. Even if you think they are barbarian, they're quite capable of killing you all the same.

- Yeah, I guess they are. Do they speak our language ?

- Most of them don't. We're trying to teach them, though." He turned again toward her. "You haven't answered my question, Iulia. Why did you destroy the Legion ?

- Don't." She froze and tensed. "Don't call me like that."

He blinked, genuinely surprised. She closed her eyes and sighed. It was almost painful to hear this name, as it was painful to hear someone speaking about this Courier Six that had driven the Mojave into utter chaos. Even the number six for that matter. Both of them were dead, only she remained. She had no name, or rather, she preferred not have one. Everytime she'd had one she'd destroyed something or someone.

"How do you want me to call you, then ?

- Don't call me. I'm not staying anyway," she said, eyes still closed. "And since you want an answer so much, I destroyed it because I couldn't lead it.

- Why ? I keep an impressive memory of your wits, battle skills and strategical logic.

- I've told you. A bullet in the brain changes a person."

More like amnesia changes a person, in my case. She didn't want to talk about it, even more with him. He wouldn't understand. No one could understand such a big turn towards pity and empathy from someone like her. He didn't insist, though, and sat back in front of his guns. Is the conversation over ? She opened her eyes and stared at him. He acted like he didn't know she was, concentrated.

"We'll help you go back to the Mojave. Our scouts are busy right now, so it might take a couple of days but…

- I don't want to go back in the Mojave," she said, frowning. "I'm going east. As far as I can.

- East ? There's nothing in the east.

- There must be. Plus, why do you care ?"

Silence answered. Why of course. She shook her head. Looking at his guns, she realized she had no idea were her weapons were. Most of them weren't exactly precious – they were just plain guns, but two of them… They had a value. They meant something and she hadn't been able to give them up. She gulped.

"Where are my weapons ?

- Stored. I'll ask Daniel to give them to you," he replied. "They're not damaged, if that's what you're worry about.

- I'm not worried.

- Hmhm. You should have some rest, you've been down for quite a long time."

Conversation over, got it. She went down the cliff and went back in the tent she'd woken up in. It was mostly empty, except the bed and a bag put next to the entrance. She went through it – it was hers. She found the food she'd taken in the Fort, her ammos, everything. No one had even moved anything. Somehow, it soothed her. Maybe she was wrong about all of them. Maybe they were more civilized than meet the eye. I seriously doubt it, though. She wasn't going to see any of them as an ally – or even as an exact human being until she'd found proves they're indeed trustworthy.

And Graham… Well, it was even worse. Of course if he wanted her death she would be dead by now, but she didn't believe in the whole "I found God, I'm now a new man" thing. No one could be a new man after what he did. Because he did worse than her. Obviously, he was in charge while I… Her face darkened. She had been in charge too, of the worst of the Legion. I'm no longer this person. Then why was she worried about her stiletto ? And about Maria ?