The crawl towards the water seemed to take forever. The small stretch of bank seemed to recede with every inch she pulled herself further. She had to get to the water. She couldn't let them take her again, couldn't let them find out she hadn't been dead after all. They'd just tie her up again to wait for a lifetime of hell.

A shout came from behind, just as the sun brightened the sky. With the last of her strength, she pulled herself into the water. The coolness of it soothed her wounds, leeched the extra warmth of her skin from her fever. She sank, down, down, down to the murky bottom. It wouldn't be long before she drowned. It had seemed like a lifetime since the attack, the day their happiness was destroyed. She'd tried to be strong, resisted their attempts to break her, at first. But when they went after Wyatt, she crumbled. She tried to save him, and that only made things worse. At least now, they could be together now, with Joseph, too…

But something plunged in after her, reached for her. She screamed silently, bubbles tickling her face as they glided up to the surface. She swatted at the figure, begged it in her mind to go away and let her die. She felt an iron grip on her arms, something was shaking…

"Wake up!"

Angel's eyes snapped open. Boone was looming over her, hands on her shoulders. Lottie stood right next to him, clutching Patches like a lifeline. Manny was nowhere to be seen, but the sunlight filtering through the broken blinds and boards gave her a clue as to where he might be.

Her lungs felt like they were on fire, and her head felt like someone had hit her with a brick a few times. And despite the heat of the day, she was chilled to the bone. "What? What's going on?"

"Kid got into my room and woke me up, said you were crying in your sleep. Then you started screaming." He explained, letting go of her.

"Oh, sorry. It was just a….just a bad dream." Angel breathed, wiping sweat off her brow. "What time is it?"

He didn't press for answers, which she was grateful for. "Almost noon." He grunted, turning for the door. "Let's just hurry and get out of this place."

"Not much of morning person, is he?" Angel mumbled after he left. She rolled out of the bed and disappeared into the bathroom to wash up and check her bandaging. The wounds she got from Vulpes and the gang from the road to Novac were healing nicely, and the gash on her head was looking better. Hopefully they'd be fully healed before long. She was spending more on bandages and healing poultice than ammo at the moment.

"Ready to go, Lottie?" Angel chirped as she left the bathroom, picking up her new varmint rifle and slinging over her shoulder.

"Yeah." She answered, taking Angel's outstretched hand. Angel made for the door, but paused when she felt Lottie tugging.

"What?"

"You're not really okay, are you? You looked really scared." Lottie asked, looking up at her with a furrowed brow. "What scared you so much, Miss Angel?"

Angel bit her lip. She couldn't tell Lottie about her dreams. The kid had enough of her own nightmares after Nipton. She didn't need Angel adding her own problems to hers. "I don't really remember much. Besides, it's just a dream. Dreams can't hurt you." She assured the child, pulling up the scarf she'd given her over her dark locks.

Lottie stared at her for a moment, and then buried her face in Patches' fur. "Okay then. Let's go. Mr. Boone is waiting."

Relieved the girl wouldn't press further, Angel opened the door and closed it behind them. They had a long road ahead of them.

Boone made sure to keep an eye on her. She had seemed okay as they left Novac, but as the hours dragged on and they drew closer to the El Dorado gas station, she began to look out of sorts, only snapping back to reality occasionally when the kid ran too far ahead or fell behind to look at some flower or vandalized old sign to call her back. It was probably a good thing he was there, then. She wasn't watching for danger at all—and with a child to look after, no less. And she was supposed to be going all the way to Vegas?

By the time they got to the decaying gas station, Angel had started rubbing her temples, taking care to not touch on her wound. The kid asked if she needed to change her bandages again, but she shook her head, and sat at the campfire left out for travelers and traders who needed it. Right now they were the only ones there, and they had a good bit of daylight left, so they didn't bother with starting a fire yet. The kid fished out a couple of bottles of water from their packs, and some food they didn't need to cook. Boone had his own supplies in his pack, but when the girl walked up to him and held out some apples and bits of gecko jerky, he took them anyway. She'd probably start crying if he refused, anyway.

Then she started chattering about the books she'd been reading back in Novac, things about the Old World she hadn't known before, what it must have been like back then, and if the Strip really was like being there yourself, like she'd heard from soldiers and travelers back home. Angel only occasionally nodded her head or mumbled something. She was deep in thought about something else and hardly eating her dinner, let alone listening to the musings of the girl.

When the kid settled down on one of the makeshift beds near the fire pit after the sun set, Boone started a fire and sat done on a cinderblock in front of it. A few minutes later, Angel sat down across from him, but only stared into the fire or messed with her Pip-Boy. He told himself it wasn't his problem. He was just along to kill Legionaries. He wasn't there to babysit. It was her problem.

So even he surprised himself when he spoke. "What's wrong?"

Angel snapped to attention, hand hovering over the buttons of her Pip-Boy. "Wh-what?"

He just stared at her.

She sighed, and leaned forward, bracing her arms on her thighs. "I was…I was just thinking about my dream, is all."

"Enough that you completely ignore your surroundings and the kid?"

She grimaced, rubbing her head again. "I guess I was pretty out of it."

"That's an understatement."

She gave him a flat look, and then looked back at the fire. She was quiet for a moment. Then she looked over at Lottie, her eyes glazing over.

"I remembered some things."

The fire crackled. Somewhere a coyote howled, its voice broken and alone.

"What things?"

"Bits and pieces of traveling. Reading books by a fire. Learning to shoot." She said, holding her head in her hands. "It's all jumbled, and fuzzy, though. I can remember some names, some places. But I can't put it together."

"It's a start."

"I suppose."

"Just don't let this happen again."

Angel gave him a hard look. "I won't. Count on it." She stood up and started moving for the bedroll, turning in early to get some sleep before it was her turn to keep watch for raiders and the desert critters.

She had just sat down when the first hail of bullets came at them.

Boone grabbed his rifle and got off a few shots while Angel got a startled Lottie into the station. He heard her tell the kid to hide and not come out until they said to, and shut the door. When he ducked behind a column to reload, she started to fire herself. Looking around the battered stone, he saw the familiar red of the Legion. There were at least a dozen, with a few littering the ground—wait, no, there went two more—and then the ground to his right rushed up and exploded in orange and red and yellow. For a moment he was weightless, floating, but as all things must he fell, onto the cracked pavement, somehow managing to keep a hold of his gun. He shook his head as if it would bring back his hearing, and looked around for Angel. She sprawled near him, her clothing and hair singed, her rifle feet away, clothes bloodied. But her limbs were intact and she was stirring, slowly, and then she was reaching for her gun. He looked down at himself, assessing his own damage. There were some puncture marks on his legs from debris but nothing fatal. And here he was hoping…

He turned and aimed his gun at a charging Legionary, and his head burst open to stain the smoking ground red. One was heading for—the kid! What was she doing outside?! She let out a soundless scream, biting and kicking the man who'd grabbed her by her hair. But Angel had gotten back on her feet beside him, and fired her gun. The Legionary's grip on the kid loosened, then he slumped to the ground at Lottie's feet. But more Legionaries were pressing in on them. Where the hell did they even come from? He didn't have time to think when something hit his shoulder, burning and biting his flesh and managing to make him take a step back. He heard Angel hiss in pain too, and he knew she'd been hit as well.

"Inside!" He yelled over the gunfire, hoping she heard. She grabbed the kid and ducked inside to escape more bullets. They'd have to run out soon. He backed into the dark building, emptying his rifle before moving behind the counter. At least now they'd have cover.

"Damnit. They got me good." He heard her say as he fished some ammo from his pocket to reload.

He glanced over, just to check how bad it was, but cursed when he saw she'd been hit in her side. Looked pretty bad too. She looked back at him, and let out a humorless laugh.

"Courtesy wound. Can't let them feel inadequate, right?" she breathed, pressing a hand to her side.

He didn't reply. She took a deep breath. He knew she knew they wouldn't be getting out of this. He'd been expecting an end kind of like this one. But just for himself. They shouldn't have to go out like that. Far as he knew, they were both good people.

"Hey, Boone…"

"Yeah?" Last words. He didn't see much point in them. No one was going to remember what they said here. But he figured he may as well play along.

And then she surprised him.

"Let's go kill these fuckers." She grinned.

And before he knew it, she was stumbling out of the station with her gun blazing. He could hear surprised shouts and dying screams. She'd caught them off guard, probably as they were reloading. They might not have expected them to come out from cover.

Without hesitating, he followed after her.

They dropped like bloatflies. He didn't know how it happened—it was just aim, shoot, aim shoot, duck, a blur of movement and blood and sounds and the smell of gunpowder. Some fled, to his astonishment. He'd never heard of Legionaries running. Killing themselves to avoid capture, yes, but never running. Nonetheless, he shot those too. Some still got away, but he focused on the ones still trying to fight, albeit with blades or other weapons since they didn't have time to reload in the face of Angel's charge. She'd run out of bullets too, and had resorted to bludgeoning them with her sturdy rifle. And she had a pretty decent arm, if the cracking of bone he heard was any indicator.

When the last one fell, they both just stood there for a moment, looking around at the carnage surrounding them. A group this size… Just for them? It was a little strange. He looked up at Angel, and almost felt like returning her smirk. Almost.

"Showed those fuckers whose bo—shit!" She fell to her hands and knees, and struggled to get back up.

"Stay still. You've lost a lot of blood." He told her as he approached. He crouched down and set his gun down, and reached forward to grab the stained leather and widen the rip in her side for inspection. It looked like the bullet went right through, and it wasn't too deep. Still, there was plenty of blood. Hopefully something of their supplies had survived the grenade and he'd be able to patch it up.

"Hey, you're hurt too, buddy." Angel pointed out. "Take care of yourself first."

He looked at his shoulder, then back at her. "It's not as bad as yours. Now shut up and let me—"

Lottie screamed.

Boone shot up and ran for the door, pointing his gun inside. Someone's fist collided his face and he landed hard on the steps, getting winded. He coughed for air and tried to aim again, but whoever had Lottie had something in their free hand and brought it down.

He heard Angel scream something before the darkness hit him.