Sandra and Niner spent the day traveling.
By the time the afternoon came to an end, Sandra could see the walls of Vegas in off the distance.
Tomorrow would be the day they'd finally reach it. Even if Benny wasn't in Vegas - she would be. And with an animal like Niner by her side, the two of them would have the opportunity to paint the city red. Regardless of what the outcome of her revenge journey would be, Sandra still carried all of Jeannie May Crawford's motel funds in her satchel; the two of them were going to have a blast when they finally reached the city of sin. Somehow or another, Sandra would find Benny and enact her revenge eventually, but for now, it was nice to focus on having fun for once. Sandra couldn't remember the last time she felt so adventurous.
Sandra and Niner took a break at an abandoned shack on the side of a hill, each of them lying their heads on opposite sides of the lone mattress and singing along to a song that echoed from Sandra's Pip-Boy. There was a list of songs on Doc Mitchell's old Pip-Boy - a collection of mp3's - and they were all songs that neither of them had heard before. They sounded very different from the ones that usually played the radio.
After listening to a song called Rockstar about five times in a row, Sandra and Niner nearly had it memorized. They both sang in unison as they gazed up at the sky, the evening setting in and the stars becoming brighter and brighter as the sun vanished from view.
"I'm gonna trade this life, for fortune and fame... I'd even cut my hair, and change my name...
'Cause we all just wanna be big rockstars, and live in hilltop houses, drivin' fifteen cars.
The girls come easy and the drugs come cheap. We'll all stay skinny 'cause we just won't eat.
And we'll hang out in the coolest bars, in the VIP with the movie stars...
Every good gold digger's gonna wind up there, every Playboy bunny with her bleach blond hair...
And well, hey, hey, I wanna be a rockstar...
Hey, heeeey, I wanna be a rockstar..."
When the song ended, Sandra flipped through the others until she landed on one labeled AC/DC - Shoot To Thrill. She listened to it for a moment before sitting up in the dirt, glimpsing around the desert and finally realizing how much time had passed. Night had fallen already. They needed to get moving if they wanted to reach Freeside in time to get some sleep.
Sandra turned off the music.
"Awww, whaddid you turn it off for?" Niner said, sitting up and staring at her. "I wanted to hear that one. It sounded good."
"We need to go. Do you wanna get any sleep tonight, or not?" Sandra replied.
"No." Niner folded his arms. "I wanna hit the town tonight. Fuck sleepin'. Sleepin's for queers."
"What?! We've been walking all day! I'm tired!"
"Me too. That's what the magic's for." Niner pulled a jet inhaler from his bag and twirled it around his fingers. "I got the means to stay awake."
Sandra let out a cloud of breath. "Niner... about the chems..."
"What man, you ain't gonna start nagging me, are ya?" Niner responded.
"It's starting to cause problems." Sandra told him. "Plus, you turned into a drooling mess when you practically drugged yourself into a coma yesterday. That's not good for you."
"C'mon, man. That was just a little screw up. I'll be fine from now on. I haven't taken a hit all day." Niner said. "I think my brain's tryinna' claw its way outta my skull, but I'm sober."
Sandra sighed at him. It wasn't typical for her to lecture anyone on their behavior. She didn't care what anyone did with their lives. But it bothered her to see Niner making such terrible choices and suffering because of them. When did she start giving a shit about him? This wasn't right...
"Alright, fine, do whatever you want. Doesn't bother me." Sandra said, reaching her feet. "Come on."
They walked into the desert, following the towering casino that lit up the entire wasteland.
Sandra sifted through the list of mp3's on her Pip-Boy again.
"Hey, Niner." She said while she walked, hoping to make some small talk. "You weren't born in the Mojave, right? Where did you come from?"
"Hmn? You bored enough to talk about my childhood, Six?" Niner laughed. "Grew up in California. Guess it was pretty comfortable compared to most kids' lives."
"Did you like it?"
"Nah, I hated it. Just being kept like that... it made me uneasy."
"Leave anyone behind?"
"What, like a girl? C'mon man, I ain't the settling type."
"What about friends? Family?"
"Eh, never had much in the way of family. My friends all grew up to be soldiers. Some of them turned into farmers, though. See, that's what the average kid got to look forward to in California. Being a soldier, or being the guy who feeds the soldiers."
"I understand why you left, then..."
"Yeah, it just ain't right... people deciding how your life's gonna turn out for you. I ran away a long time ago. Doubt anyone even noticed."
"What about your family?"
"It was usually just me and my brother. We looked out for each other. He was proud NCR, Mike was. Not like me. Heh... I didn't give a shit."
"How often do you see your brother now?"
"He'd dead, man."
Sandra, who had been fiddling with her Pip-Boy while the two of them strolled through the desert, went quiet for a moment. She didn't dare look him in the eyes. Not yet.
When she finally worked up the courage to face Niner, she didn't stop walking, and she didn't look him in the face; her eyes immediately fixated on the two shining dogtags that rested atop the kevlar vest under his jacket, shimmering under the moonlight from his chest. The dogtags had Mike's name, as well as a few smaller inscriptions, labeled on them. They once belonged to Niner's brother, just like Sandra's shotgun once belonged to her old best friend.
Suddenly, everything fell into place in her mind; Sandra and Niner were both unbelievably reckless and careless. They both had a habit of abusing substances, jumping into physical confrontations, and hurting anyone who dared to challenge or threaten them. The two of them had everything in common. They both lived like they couldn't care less about anything - their health, their morals, or even the wellbeing of others, and they both acted this way for the very same reason.
Sandra and Niner had both lost someone very close to them.
And now, neither of them seemed to care about anything in the world anymore because of it.
Sandra and Niner were the same. Two heartbroken souls who simply didn't care anymore.
The dogtags and the combat shotgun were the same. Both inanimate memories of their lost loved ones.
"I'm sorry." Sandra said in a voice eerily similar to her old one, the voice she once had when she lived as the lone wanderer. It was a genuine, caring voice, a voice that was meant to comfort someone.
Niner's expression became grave.
"He gets sent to some mutant infested shit hole... gets blown up... and they didn't even find most of his body." He told her darkly. "His general gives me his tags, and a pat on the back... like that's supposed to make it all okay."
Sandra watched him quietly, unsure of what to say or how to respond.
Niner shook his head and looked away.
At a loss, Sandra grasped him by the arms and pulled him into a hug.
Niner, who wasn't expecting it, blinked a few times while Sandra wrapped her arms around his neck. Niner returned the hug after a few seconds of hesitation. The two of them stood in the middle of the desert, locked in an embrace for a few silent minutes.
"Hey." Sandra stepped back, placing her hands on his shoulders and meeting his gaze. "Let's both hit the town tonight. We'll have a fucking blast. Alright?"
Niner smirked. "Hell yeah. That'll be awesome."
