Chapter two!

Thanks to anyone who's reading. I promise it'll get interesting. ^^

Remember, Boone is hot

I awoke the next morning at dawn. No dream, I thought, and I felt strangely disappointed. As strange and puzzling as the dreams were, they were comforting in a way. I started having these recurring dreams around the time I left Goodsprings. They usually involved a mysterious man with black hair. His face and voice were so familiar, and yet I can't recall ever meeting him.

My brow furrowed in frustration. Ever since I was shot in the head, I hadn't been able to remember my past. Every time I tried to access memories prior to getting shot, everything was fuzzy and my head throbbed. I wanted to know if there was anyone to go home to when this Benny business was over with.

I got up and stretched my sore joints. I missed my bed back at the ranch. It wasn't very luxurious, but at least I had my own mattress there.

I finally noticed Boone. He was leaning against the rock wall that protected us from the wind, asleep, his face peaceful and still. He was only ever peaceful while sleeping, I realized with a frown. While conscious, his face was almost always discontented.

I wondered if he was dreaming about his wife, Carla.

When I had first read Carla's bill of sale and learned that she was with child, too, I had cried openly in that creepy Dino building for a good hour. Things like that just got to me.

I couldn't imagine losing someone that precious to me… for all I knew, I didn't have anyone precious to me. But then again, I had Boone. He was the closest thing to a friend I had. But his distant attitude was far from the friendship I was looking for.

I asked him to travel with me knowing there was nothing left for him in Novac. Judging by his very accurate decapitation of Ms. Crawford and the beret on his head, he was obviously a capable shooter. But I guess the main reason I asked was because I was tired of being alone.

"…What?"

I didn't notice I was staring at him until he woke up and shot me a quizzical look.

"Oh, s-sorry," I mumbled, looking away quickly. "Um, good morning."

He just stretched and began packing up our things.

I pushed my feelings aside and started getting ready for the day ahead. I pulled out my one shard of mirror and examined my face. I grimaced.

Blood was caked around my nose and mouth, most likely from when I tripped the night before. I had dark bags under my green eyes, scratches along my jaw line, and a nasty cut running from my left eye to my jaw. And holy shit, my hair.

I attempted to untangle my dark brown hair, streaked with purple, using my fingers. It was beyond help. I used a piece of ribbon to tie it back.

I'd had hair dyes and soap in my pack as long as I can remember (about two months), and I had no idea where I got them. I could only guess that I either stole them, or used to make soap and dye. Strange, because I had no idea how to go about creating either items. And I couldn't help feeling guilty at the idea of being a thief.

I guessed the pre-Benny me liked the purple streaks. They didn't look half bad.

I cleaned up my face with a rag and some water until the caked blood was gone.

"Much better," I heard Boone comment from behind me as I put the mirror away.

I laughed and turned around to give him an accusing look.

"What, I'm too dirty for you? What I really need is some water to use all this soap with."

Boone smirked. "I wasn't going to say anything about the smell, but…"

I punched his shoulder playfully. "You're so mean! You don't exactly smell like flowers, either."

True, he did not smell like flowers, but he didn't smell bad, either. He had a natural, musky smell to him. Kind of smoky, like burning wood, mixed with the salt of the desert sand. Not that I would ever tell Boone that, I thought, turning away.

But playtime was over.

"Ready?" I asked, slinging the pack over my shoulder.

"Let's move out," he responded, securing his rifle against his back. I instinctively shook my head at his ex-soldier lingo.

I took the lead as we walked north, with Boone following behind me. I could picture his pensive face watching the horizon without turning around, the sun reflecting off his sunglasses. The day was just beginning at that time; the sky was turning from a rosy pink to the usual milky blue. The moon was still visible in the daylight, sitting and observing me. I turned on the radio, the Mojave Radio station, and hummed along to Mad About The Boy. As peaceful as it all sounds, one could not simply walk across the Mojave singing along to the radio. It was key to stay alert at all times; you could walk into anything, or anyone, at any time. Admittedly, it was easier to relax with my own personal spotter.

We were able to reach Boulder City around noon. It's name made me picture a huge, impenetrable city made of stone. But looking upon it for the first time, it was more rubble than anything else. Boone and I stopped to admire the war memorial, dedicated to the lives lost in the last war against the Legion. I met an NCR soldier also visiting the memorial, who told me about how his brother lost his life while proudly serving. That, of course, made me emotional enough to cry in front of the poor private. He was really sweet though, and seemed very concerned about me when I started tearing up.

"Are you ok, ma'am? I didn't mean to make you cry," he kept telling me.

"This is normal," Boone assured him, "don't worry about it." He led me by the arm, away from the private.

It was true. I tended to get very emotional on the topic of death, even with strangers. It was a personality defect I was trying to improve, without much progress.

"I-it was really nice meeting you!" I called to the private, my lip still quivering. He waved to me, obviously confused.

We walked towards what appeared to be fenced-off ruins until Boone stopped me.

"See that soldier over there?" he said, gesturing towards another soldier, "He's a lieutenant. Try to pull it together so you don't embarrass yourself."

"But didn't you hear him? His older brother was killed in—" I said, trying to explain myself.

"I don't care," Boone said bluntly. "Normal people don't care."

I sighed sadly and tried to breathe normally while Boone waited patiently.

Then something occurred to me.

"What if my brother died in battle, too!" Fresh tears sprang from my eyes at the thought.

Boone put his hands on my shoulders and shook me firmly, surprising me. "You don't know that, moron. You can't just go around assuming the worst happened. I don't know… think… happy thoughts."

"O-ok," I said. I urged my mind to shift its focus from death to sunset sarsaparilla, the moon, coyote puppies I saw one time, Gale…

I froze internally. Gale? I saw a brief image of my last dream. Who is Gale… I asked my mind, searching through the fog. It responded with a sharp pain.

"Ouch…" I muttered, pressing a hand against my temple and wincing.

"What is it now?" Boone asked, probably amazed at how weak I was mentally.

"I… nothing, can you just stand still for a second?" Head throbbing, I gripped Boone for support and closed my eyes. The dizziness and pain gradually subsided, and I let go of his arm.

"Thanks," I said, shaking my head. "At least I'm done crying now."

His eyes narrowed into a, perhaps worried, expression? I couldn't tell.

"What happened?" he asked. I was happy that he even cared.

"All right, I'm not sure if we should do this now, but," I began, "You know how-?"

I paused. "Actually, let's sit over there." I sat down on a nearby bench and patted the spot next to me with a smile. Boone followed hesitantly.

"You know how I was shot in the head by Benny?" I asked as he sat down. He nodded.

"Well, as a result, I have no recollection of anything prior to being woken up by a doctor in Goodsprings." Boone seemed surprised, and was silent for a moment.

"You're telling me you don't know anything about yourself, not even your name?"

I shook my head sadly. "I didn't really know how to tell you before… it didn't seem, well, important at the time," I admitted, looking at the ground. In truth, I hadn't really wanted Boone to know that I had lost my memory, so I never mentioned it. Maybe I thought he wouldn't want to be involved in something so messy and unknown. Boone, luckily, never asked for my name.

"I plan to regain my memories no matter what, with Benny's help. He's got to lead me to something." Boone sat with his usual furrowed brow as I spoke, and didn't say anything.

I let out a sigh. "Hey, I understand if you don't want to help me. There really isn't anything in it for you, I'm just searching for my past."

He tilted his head at my words and frowned.

"I said I would go with you, didn't I? That's my choice. Don't doubt it."

I looked at him, still unsure. All he had said after I asked him to come with me was, "Fine."

"Thanks, Boone. Hearing that means a lot to me," I said anyway, because it did.

We were silent for a few moments, just sitting on the bench.

"Anyway… I've noticed recently that, when I try to remember anything, my head just hurts. It hurt the most than ever before just now, but I think I remembered a name," I continued, tapping a finger on my temple.

"A name?" Boone asked, raising his eyebrows.

"Yeah," I said. "Gale."