A/N: Okay, so I'm really sorry it took me longer then normal to get this chapter up, I was ill for a few days, so I had to kind of rush-write it. Anyway, I think it turned out okay, but I didn't really get much of a chance to edit it much beyond one reread, so any mistakes are completely my fault and will be handled when I get around to editing this chapter at a later date. I hope everyone likes it!


"Y'know…I wonder every single day if it was a mercy for her, or for me. I know what the Legion does to women, but I wonder sometimes if it would've been different for her. Did I kill her so she wouldn't suffer…or so I wouldn't?" Craig asked, prodding the Brahmin steak on his plate, tough and overcooked.

"You can't think like that," I offer, cutting off a piece of steak before tossing it in my mouth, overcooked, tough, and cold, but Michelle had done her best.

"Why can't I? What rule says that?" He sounded so broken, so completely shattered, I just shook my head.

"There is no rule, but I speak from experience, Craig. You can't hold onto the 'what if's', it'll kill you. It almost killed me," I hated talking about this, but I knew if it would help him, then I could grit my teeth through it. He needed something to ground him, to make him remember that we still had a job to do.

"What almost killed you? What could you possibly fucking know about this, Cass?" He was defensive, raising his walls, anchoring his shields; it was not something I was looking forward to punching through.

"My mom killed herself before I was barely a real woman…I always tell everyone that she died waiting for my dad, and she did, except I tend to leave out the part about her dying by setting our house on fire and standing in the living room till she was ash." I squared my shoulders, and prepared to divulge the things that I had never really even talked about with myself.

"John Cassidy, companion to the Chosen one he used to say…my daddy - a bitch of a man who I hope day in and day out that he's rotting in hell. He was a drifter, and nothing was able to hold him down, till he met my mother. And even then, having a wife and a child wasn't enough for him, and he walked. My mom never recovered, she never said she loved me, she never said she cared for me…she drank too much, and she got physical when she was angry…" I brushed the tent flap aside, checking what time of day it was, the sun was just beginning to set.

"I still have the scar on my head from when she struck me with a liquor bottle." I mentioned numbly, I pulled my hat down from my head, my fingers itching through my hair to find that scar, still raised and slightly painful to touch even after all these years.

"So no, I guess I don't know exactly what you feel right now, but I do know that dwelling on it isn't getting us any closer to the Strip," He straightened at the mention of the Strip, ripping the steak apart with his hands, he stuffed a few pieces into his mouth, mouth quirking at the taste of the sour beef.

"You're right, as usual." He murmured after a few moments of silent chewing, "I'm not nearly as smart as I like to think I am, Craig, but this is important, I know it's not going to happen overnight, and I hope you know that too, but it'll heal…" I felt like a fucking egghead, going on and on about feelings and emotional healing, but I just had this gut feeling that this was far more important then it really looked.

Not that it looked easy to handle.

"Verlaine deserves to be avenged, just as long as we can kill as many Legion fucks along the way as humanly possible." He said around a mouthful of rancid steak.

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I laughed, pushing my plate aside, completely turned off by the idea of eating any more of that disgusting steak,

"So, we're leaving in the morning right?"

"Don't you start with me, Sniper," I growled, taking his plate away, mid-chew, "Excuse me, I wasn't done with that, and I feel better then I have since the initial injury," Craig complained, giving me one of those 'are you retarded' stares he used to give me when we first met.

"Yes, you are done with this, because I wouldn't feed this to a fucking dog much less a person, and we'll see how you're doing in the morning, if you can walk twenty feet without doubling over in agony, we can keep moving, if not, I'll buy another stimpak, let you inject it, and we'll stay another day," I started outside, pushing the tent flap open, "You're not my mother y'know," The NCR sniper grumbled, with an audible roll of the eyes.

"And you aren't a six year old, so stop acting like one," I called over my shoulder, heading for Michelle's booth. Michelle was smiling when I walked up, overhearing the last bit of out conversation, "Is he arguing again like this morning?" She asked, taking the plates, and wordlessly dumping the contents into the fire, more fuel.

"Worse!" I exclaimed, plopping myself down on the bench in front on her shop, putting my head on my forearms, "By the way, I'm sorry about the …" She held her hand up to stop me, smiling slightly, "It's nothing, I know the steaks today are shit, my dad for some reason thinks he can cook because he got one good goddamn review fucking four years ago!" Michelle's voice slowly got louder till she was yelling over her shoulder, probably at whoever slept in the back of the booth.

I chuckled; "Sounds like there's a story about that," She gave me a cheeky grin.

"Men, they should learn to listen to us irrevocably," Veronica sighed breathily, sitting down next to me, I paid her no mind, still kind of miffed about what happened earlier today, "I'm sorry I was a bitch this morning, I don't like to talk about it…forgive me?" I swear to god, she was cued to say that somehow.

I still turned to her, and wordlessly gave her a one armed hug, showing my forgiveness is easier then saying it,

"I don't know, if I had a boyfriend as hot as hers, I might let him take the reins every once and while," Michelle giggled, wiping a glass down with a rag, whilst simultaneously waggling her eyebrows suggestively. Veronica's nose scrunched up slightly, and she didn't say anything.

"He's not my boyfriend, actually. Just a friend," I shrugged, picking some dirt out from my under my thumbnail with my combat knife, the light flicking sound the only noise for about a minute before I looked up, confused as to why the conversation completely stopped. Both Michelle and Veronica were giving me my second 'are you retarded?' look of the day.

"What?" I asked indignantly, I was getting really fucking tired of being looked at like I was an idiot.

"He isn't your boyfriend? But you guys fight like an old married couple! Plus, you sleep in the same tent! And he's fucking hot! I'd tap that," Michelle waved her hand in the air, as if dismissing my lack of romance with Craig.

"I want you to listen very closely, Cass. I'm gay, and I'd tap that," Veronica enunciated, again, as if I was mentally invalid.

"Look bitch, first off, I'm not stupid, stop talking to me like I'm four, and secondly, it's really fucking complicated, Craig and I are on a mission, I guess you could say, that's why we're travelling together. I respect him and he's my friend, and I'd do anything for him…especially now…but…sex, love, romance, a relationship, fuck-buddies, whatever you want to call it, is not possible for either of us, so just drop it – both of you," I sounded more jovial then I felt, as I glared between the two giggling girls, giggling at my own expense no less.

I don't know why it bothered me that everyone else could see Craig and I as a couple, but the thought terrified me. I could never do that to him, not after Carla, and I'd bet my tits these two airheads wouldn't be laughing if they really knew the whole story.

But that would stay between Craig and I, where it belonged.

"Michelle, how about some of that whiskey I traded you," I slid ten caps towards her, over the booth, absolutely dying for a drink.

She silently knocked the caps into a bag, and poured me a tall glass of whiskey, "There you go, my dear."

I was already downing the glass before she finished her sentence, the liquid salvation warming me up from within, sending a shudder through my whole body as I accustomed to the liquor. I lowered the glass from my lips, and that was when the glass suddenly exploded, the sound of a gunshot ringing in the air like the toll of a funeral bell.

I cursed, rolling to the ground, holding my bleeding hand, shards of whiskey-drenched glass protruding from my palm and in between my knuckles. People screamed and cried, and there were several more gunshots.

I felt some of the blood hit me when Michelle took a bullet to the brain, throwing her head back, landing solidly with the thud only a dead body can make.

Veronica was on the ground next to me, for some reason, sliding leather gloves on over her fists, the knuckles were steel and slightly spiked.

"How many?" I demanded, already knowing these were Legion tactics, Fiends didn't come this far out east; and Powder Gangers weren't smart enough for a sneak attack like this. I'd bet my tits they were here for Craig and I too.

Veronica rolled away from me, to the concrete lane divider, peeking over carefully, just so slightly, before rolling back lithely.

"It's a Decanus Quad team, assassins, three grunts and a Centurion," She whispered, and I groaned, already sliding shells into my shotgun.

"They're coming from across the overpass, we can jump down there from behind Michelle's shop and attack them from the side-rear area when they get closer to this side," I wanted to shake my head, they would be getting to close to Craig, but her plan sounded better then anything I had.

Plus, Craig could take care of himself, he had his rifle.

"On three then?" I asked, sliding the final shell into my shotgun, and cocking it, the sound of the shell sliding into the barrel was comforting in a weird way. "1," Veronica nodded, "2," I replied, nodding back. "3!" We both yelled before sprinting to the other side of the overpass, and leaped…

The drop was farther then I had anticipated, leading to a very hard landing. Both Veronica and I managed to roll with it though, and we managed to scramble to our feet without either of us breaking anything. "Let's not do that again anytime soon," Veronica mumbled, before flouncing off towards the overpass wall.

"Do we have any support up above," I asked, coming to stand beside her, my gun rested at my hip, ready to blow someone's life away.

"Nope, they took out the NCR arms merchant, and the Gun Runner guy bailed when he heard the shooting, and…well…Michelle didn't make it, only one up above is your boyfr…friend that's a boy," Veronica's view of the situation looked grim, "You're Brotherhood right? Don't you have like…some tech to help us?"

"Nope, all I have are my fists,"

We were so going to die…

"How close?" Veronica peered around the corner, flexing her fists, each straining flex cracking her knuckles. "10 meters, maybe," She whispered, pulling back away from the edge.

"I say we charge their asses from the side, they won't be able to recover before you start shooting, and then I can close quickly and take out the Centurion," I gave her an incredulous look.

"Take out the Centurion? You don't have a gun," I reminded her, "I can handle him, just trust me," I bit my lip, but I didn't have the time for such choices, we had to move before they were on us.

"Now!" I shouted, and we both bolted around the corner, coming in from the east side, it was an uphill battle, but Veronica was far faster then I had given her credit for, she slammed into the Centurion at the back of the group with such force they both went tumbling down. One of the grunts yelled, and threw a spear towards me. I managed to clumsily dodge, before letting off a shot.

The burstfire collided with the Legion dick's chest, blasting a hole through him, sending his corpse flying backwards on wings made of blood and viscera. One of the other Legionaries returned fire with a submachine gun. I managed to roll just in time to avoid the spray of bullets, but even still, one of the rounds skimmed my shin, tearing a gash into me. A hiss escaped me, but I managed to recover when the Legionary discarded his spent clip.

I charged forward, and took another shot.

It was the Legionary's turn to dodge, the burstfire barely skimming the metal plating of his shin-guards. That didn't do anything to stop my momentum though, and I kept running towards him, swing my foot forward, I felt my steel-toe boot collide with the center of his face. Pushing forward, my weight and foot pushed his neck too far to the right, till a sickening crack of splintering bones was heard.

Veronica was suddenly beside me, her fists up in an offensive position, the Centurion sprawled out on the ground, dead, his head twisted at a horribly unnatural angle. "Where's the last one?" I asked, standing back to back with her, prepared for an assault for either side.

"Maybe he ran off, Legion soldiers do that when their superior die don't they?" I shook my head, that couldn't be right. None of them ran off when Verlaine died, in fact, they seemed fucking determined to finish us all off right then and there.

We stood like that, back to back, ready for anything for a good ten minutes, when we decided he had run off.

Slowly, we started off towards Michelle's booth.

And then there was that whistle, the whistle that asks for trust as you hear it. It was surreal almost in a way; I closed my eyes, grabbed the back of Veronica's hood, and dragged her to the ground with me, a single gunshot; and the thump of a body.

Veronica rolled away, hopping to her feet to see what had just happened.

I just sat up slowly, pain wracking through me. Craig was standing outside the tent, his rifle shoulder level, the barrel still had a stream of smoke from the first shot in a quite a while. I picked myself up off the hard ground and looked behind us. The Legionary had tried to use our tactics against us, come up from behind and to the side, our blind spot. He would've killed us both,

Giving Craig a nod, I mouthed 'thanks'. He just nodded and gave me a knowing smile.

"You should've come and alerted me, y'know? All I heard was gunshots, and had just enough time to get my rifle loaded and shouldered to save you," He mumbled, as we walked side by side back towards Michelle's booth. I hated what I knew I was going to see…and her father, oh my god, her father would be beside himself. Fuck me, why did this have to happen here, why couldn't they have attacked when we were mid-transit.

"Veronica and I didn't have time, plus, I couldn't risk leading them too you when you were injured; and I also just wanted to be the hero for once," I limped to one of the benches in front of the booth, and examined my leg, the shallow gash looked worse then it was, it barely bled now, but it had bled like a motherfucker at first. I lightly dabbed at the wound with a clean rag sitting on the counter.

Craig sat down beside me, snatching the rag from me and started to dab at the gash.

"Here, take a look at these, whoever you pissed off is serious about you guys dying," Veronica put a paper in my hand, and hopped over the counter to examine Michelle. She lightly prodded for a pulse but everyone knew it was fruitless. She was gone. Respectfully, Veronica closed the girl's eyes, another victim of a Legion hit-squad.

"It seems someone dies wherever we go," I mumbled, staring at Michelle's lifeless body, wincing when Craig pressed to hard at the edge of the gash, "Sorry," said Craig, wiping away the small trickle of blood.

Numbly, I unfolded the piece of paper Veronica gave me, and steeled myself for an onslaught of rambling bullshit.

"Oh, well…that's just fucking great!" I almost shrieked, crumpling the paper back up, and casting it away from me, toward the fire still burning under the grate Michelle had been using to cook on, providing the only light we could see by as the sun was sinking fast down the horizon.

It'd be pitch black out here in 10 minutes, tops.

"What'd it say?" Craig asked, not looking up, he was slowly heating a metal bar in the cooking fire, reaching his long, toned arms across the counter.

"That you are wanted dead or alive, and that I'm just wanted, no doubt for slavery – what the fuck do you think you're doing with that," I began to pull away as I watched the metal slowly beginning to turn an orangey color, ripe with heat. Craig barely held it with his fingers, wrapped in the rag he cleaned the gash with.

"Cauterizing the wound on your leg, it may be shallow, but it's wide, and it'll fester and putrefy if we let you walk around to much on it, especially with all the dust." He pulled the bar from the flame, and pushed my jeans up, over the wound.

"Oh my god," I moaned, leaning my head back and scrunching my eyes shut.

I heard the hiss of the superheated metal on my skin before I felt the pain. It shot through me, racing up my leg, pulverizing my hip, ripping a cry of pain out of me. The metal moved slowly over the whole of the cut, and I screamed a variety of curses.

And at last, Craig pulled the metal away and tossed it away from us.

I had to sit back, just realizing I had lurched off the bench, my jaw ached from how hard I had clenched.

"Happy with your little revenge, you cruel dick," I swore at Craig, but I didn't really mean it and he knew I didn't. He patted my thigh in a friendly manner, but allowed me to leave my foot where it was, resting on his lap. I had a brief notion to kick him right in the balls, but then he would have to do something to get me back and then I would react, and it would become a vicious circle.

The buck stops with me.

"Huh? Was' all the yelln'" A older man stumbled out from one of the hollowed out trailers behind the little slop and shop.

"Hi, Mr. Ker…" Veronica said, her voice sad and slightly fearing what she would have to tell him. I just rolled my eyes, the guns, the screams of dying Legionaries, the shouting, no – none of that woke him up, but my girlish cries of pain at having my fucking leg melted back together does the trick – naturally.

"Where's Michelle? Michelle!" The man started to yell, alcohol fueled anger began to color his cheeks as he stumbled drunkenly toward the store.

"Don't let him see her," I whispered to Veronica. That was all we needed was a drunk and grieving father. I had liked Michelle, but this stuff happens, especially with the Legion everywhere like they are these days.

Veronica ran up to him and pushed him backwards, as he suddenly began to sober.

"What's wrong, Veronica? Where's Michelle, let me by!" He roared, and tried to push the smaller Brotherhood girl aside, but she held her ground and kept pushing him backwards.

"Look, I'm sorry, Mr. Ker. Legion attacked while you were…asleep…Michelle didn't make it." The man fell to his knees, weeping and crying, begging to god for forgiveness at not protecting his daughter. He had to be kidding.

"Are you fucking kidding me, I know men like you…fuck, I'm the daughter of one. You don't care; all you care about is the fucking bottle! Don't you dare act all repentant now!" I pulled away from Craig and stood up roughly, put too much pressure on my hurt leg, and winced and hissed as the pain reminded me to be careful.

He didn't say anything, just sat there…weeping.

I turned back to Craig.

"Looks like you're getting what you wanted. We bury Michelle, we get our shit together and we leave for the Strip tonight," He was nodding before I finished. I sat back down, and grabbed the shattered glass, the last thing Michelle had touched. The top of the cup was shattered, but there was just a little bit of whiskey left in the bottom. I slung it back, and swallowed the whiskey clean, and tossed the cup over my shoulder.

"Fuck me," I sighed after a moment, and got to work.


A/N: Woot! Finally! This chapter was a real bitch to write, ugh, I'm glad it's over.
Music for this chapter was
Fucking Perfect by P!NK.
Please do leave a comment or a critique, they're why I'm here. Constructive criticism is love!

Final Edit: August 29, 2011