"TOO LATE AND TO THEIR SORROW DO THOSE WHO MISPLACE THEIR TRUST IN GODS LEARN THEIR FATE."
She lay there, feeling the desert's condemning night digging, deeper, edging into her soul. Alone in the wake of war. The Dam. Was it worth this? She had fought for an independent Vegas, offering shared ruling over the Dam to the NCR, to maintain civility and peace. Stubbornness had made them decline. She ruled now.
It had occurred after she had decided to return to Vegas alone. Telling Boone to inform everyone back at the Lucky 38 that she had decided to stay and offer medical assistance to the injured allies still on the battlefield. When she had finally decided to return they had attacked her. The unknown assailant attacked under the darkness of night, firing a bullet into her back.
'Sneaky.' She thought to herself as she crumpled to the floor, trying to keep her consciousness, not letting herself pass out. She glanced around. She couldn't let this sniveling; swine finish the job when she had no defense.
But there was a problem. They had poisoned her, coated their bullets in Cazador poison and a lack of anti-venom left her with hopelessness inside. What she wouldn't give to have Arcade here to patch her up or ED-E's sensors to spot assailants. These desperate thoughts felt like her last. Drifting. She felt the tears in her eyes. Had it really come to this? Surviving a shot to the head, surviving the terrors of the Mojave, and surviving the battle at Hoover Dam, all only to be caught off guard by a petty, sore loser. Or was this for something so much more?
Her thoughts were picking up again, accompanying the rapid pace of her heart. That's when she heard them. Footsteps. Approaching slowly then picking up pace.
'They've come to finish the job.' She lamented. Unable to open her eyes, she lay trying to hear what she could. Until her heart rate had increased into a sharp, painful haste. Was this fear or just the poison?
The footsteps ceased, yet her beating heart had not. A cold shadow now loomed over her defenseless form.
A cold hand ran its index finger down her face, tracing her jaw line. The Courier no longer thought of the hard ground she lay on, or the cold air that had wrapped her body, the hand was the only thing her mind focused on. That long, cold, thin finger. She couldn't hold herself in wakefulness much longer. The poison took over, her mind disappearing from her self-awareness.
There was nothing for a time.
Conscious thought returned to her mind as her senses began picking up on her situation and her surroundings. The chill in the air suggested it was still late, after midnight perhaps. A cracking fire eased off the bitter air from her still body. She attempted to open the heavy lids of her hazel eyes. Not an easy task, it felt as though they had been glued shut. After some effort they had creaked open. Half lidded.
"Welcome back to reality, Courier." The figure sat on the other side of the fire. Sorting what looked like an array of supplies by their side. The figure appeared lean with a toned body, obvious muscles, and blonde hair. Her observations were cut short when he spoke up again.
"Slept enough have we?" She blinked a few times before being able to fully open her eyes and focus on the man.
"A legionary…" She growled out weakly. The man gave out a half laugh half scoff, her stomach tightened into knots as panic took over. She had gone from being attacked to being captured by an assuredly angry legion, sore at their faction's loss. Things were looking gradually worse. He stood up walking around the fire to approach her, and with every step every breath of the courier labored, panicked. He had knelt down by her body leaning in to brush some of her messed hair away from her face. It had fallen from her usually tidy, neatly wrapped, chocolate bun. She tried to urge her body up, failing drastically.
"I wouldn't try moving yet. The poison still has its hold on most of your body." She panted from the excursion and rolled slowly onto her back, the lean man stood and stepped back, crossing his arms.
"What are you trying to achieve capturing me?" She snarled.
"What ever do you mean?" He smirked at her suspicious expression.
"This is not capturing. But a helping hand."
The voice echoed distinctively in her memory. Why couldn't she distinguish this mans identity? She squinted trying to make out his face with the light of the campfire, but saw nothing but the face of a devil.
"Do I know you?" She scowled, earning a disappointed look in return.
"I do not take kindly to being forgotten. Not when I present myself without a degrading, degenerates, disguise" He stepped close to her again allowing is face to be visible. Only now could she see the blue, cold eyes of abandon stabbing through to her core.
"It pains me to cut our meeting short yet again. But they will be arriving here shortly and I do not wish to be here when they do." He once again knelt down by her, gripping her chin with a thumb and curled index, leaning in he once again spoke,
"You will remember me whether you will want to or not... I do not know if this amnesia is of will or accident, but you will have your memories back, I swear-" He stood. "Aut viam inveniam aut faciam*" Standing and turning he disappeared without another word.
The courier felt the haziness returning. Presumably the anti-venom working, or at least she hoped as much. Would a legionary aid her? Why? Her body twitched, even with the little energy she had the twitching continued. Until she heard a distant voice approaching. Possibly 10 yards away she would have guessed, calling her name. Once again she retreated into the unconscious.
Footsteps sounded and stopped by her lifeless side,
"Damn It. I knew you couldn't be left alone."
*(I will either find a way or make one.)