Chris marked the location of some "igniting agent 235" and thrust control modules. Both of which I'd need to help the rockets launch. The thrust control modules could probably be bought at a scrap yard, since REPCONN was picked over by scavengers so many times. He said to check around Novac, and I remembered the little old lady with all the dogs. The igniting agent would probably be in these radioactive ruins that he also marked.

"Well," I said, looking at Boone, "they're about the same distance away, just in two different directions."

"We could split up and each grab one thing."

"Okay," I nodded, "I'll go to the scrap yard. I'm good at talking to people, so maybe I can get a lower price on the modules. We'll meet each other back here. If you get back first, make a fire or something. It's late and I won't be able to see you otherwise."

"You'll be okay without me?" He asked, with what I could assume a bit of sarcasm.

"I'll send out a distress signal," I said as I began walking away.

It seemed like the air was getting colder, though it might've just been my imagination. The walk back to Novac took less time, it seemed. Maybe because I didn't have to kill anything. The scrap yard was just a few feet outside of Novac, and only as I went to knock on her door, did I realize that she would probably be asleep. Being a dick, I knocked anyways, not wanting to drag it out any further. It took her a minute, but she answered, surrounded by a couple of happy looking dogs.

"Uhm. Hi," I said, "I was looking for some old rocket thrust modules. I was told you might have 'em."

"I do. But they're expensive. 500 caps of expensive."

"What about 250?"

"Oh my, I couldn't do that. They're one of a kind!"

"But how many people are you gonna get looking for those? There's no market for them."

She ran her hands through her silvery hair and seemed to be thinking. After a minute, she disappeared into her house and returned with two large metal pieces. I couldn't make heads or tails of them, and for all I know, she could've duped me and sold me scrap metal. I stuffed them in my duffle bag and continued on.

By the time I got back, I could see a fire was made. So far, Boone seemed to always be ahead of me. And the smirk he was wearing when I got back made me think he was challenging me, whether he admitted it or not.

"What took you so long?" He asked as he folded up an old piece of paper and shoved it back in his pocket. There was a hint of sadness in his voice, and I briefly wondered if he was reading over the bill of sale I gave him earlier.

"Okay, so this IS a challenge?" I asked.

"Nah," he sounded truthful, "sitting up in that dinosaur all night, wanting to shoot anything that moves, made me wish I was back out here. Just wanted to see if I still had it in me. You know, all the action I saw in the NCR. I still got it, though."

"Yeah, yeah. Let's get this over with, shall we?"

We climbed back down the ladder and into the work station above the launch pad. Chris was arrogant as always, berating us for being "smoothskins" and talking about how he was solely responsible for everything.

I look at Boone and he nodded. I turned back to Chris and had a bit of edginess in my voice, "Chris. Listen to me. If this is the only thing you do in life-"

"Nice try, Smoothskin. But I'm not listening."

I slammed him against the wall and got so close to his face, our noses were touching. With my free hand, I grabbed his arm and pushed the lab coat up. I waved him arm in front of his face.

"See this?" I hissed, "you see how fucking smooth it is, Chris? Now you will listen to me. Your face, your arms, and I'm sure everything else on you is smooth as babies. You. Are. A. Human. Not a ghoul. Your skin doesn't look like theirs. You're a human."

"I...I..."

"Did they tell you they're not taking you Chris? Did they? Did they tell you the radiation from the launch pad will kill you? Because you're human."

I could see the hurt in his eyes. I let him go, and his legs wobbled until he finally slid down the cool metal wall.

"Maybe you were too hard on him," Boone said quietly, but I could almost hear the smirk in his voice.

I held my hand up to Boone and crouched down beside Chris.

"The human race thinks I'm a disgrace," he said, "they hate me."

"How do you know? You've been living with ghouls."

"I used to be a technician in my old vault. I drew the short stick and had to work on the reactor. My Pip-boy's built in Geiger counter always made noises near it. I figured I would start to turn into a ghoul. My hair started falling out, and at that point, I thought I was right. I thought I was turning into a ghoul. Everyone called me neurotic. I knew they wouldn't allow a ghoul to live in the vault, so I left. I've avoided humans since."

"There's a small town near here called Novac. Take my key. You can have my room. I already paid it up, and we won't be sticking around long."

"Life among humans?" He asked quietly, "I'm not sure that's a good idea..."

I held my hand out and help him up, "sure it is. Now, come on. We've got the components we discussed and they should be ready to launch."

There was a fire in Chris's eyes now. He looked wild, ready to pounce, "I should fucking sabotage their ships," he spat, "they used me."

"Chris...calm down. Think clearly about this. How would you feel if you killed all those ghouls?"

"Better than being used up and thrown away!"

"Breathe. Think. You do awesome work. They gave you a home when you couldn't find one. Killing them isn't the way to go."

He looked at the floor, then to me, and I saw him glance at Boone (who I just imagined was wearing an impassive face.) He seemed to struggle with the choice, and then he finally grabbed the igniting agent and the thrust modules from Boone and I. A ghoul was sent up to grab them from him, and he told Jason how to put them all in place over the intercom. Jason told us to start heading back to the second floor, where the launch button was. As we headed back upstairs, Chris said he was leaving for Novac. Jason was using an overhead intercom to express his thanks to all of us and that we redeemed the humans and blah blah blah.

As we neared the controls, I told Jason I was gonna hit the button. He started with his "praise be!" and "thank you, wanderer!" speech again. I hit the button mid-speech and walked away, not even looking over my shoulder to watch the rockets.

Convincing Chris he was human just felt like it...took a piece of me. I felt drained, and...lonely. My mom was the only real family I had left, and she was how far away. Dad died a couple years back, defending the village. Sure, the rest of the village was like a family, and as close knit as we all were, your parents and siblings took precedent over everyone else. And like I said before, traveling never let me keep relationships. Chris saying he was unwanted, reminded me of how I felt the same way sometimes, out here in the vast Wasteland.

"It must be almost two in the morning," Boone said.

I looked at my Pip-boy, "it's 2:38," I sighed. Despite waking up at eight, I was exhausted.

"Are you alright?" Boone asked.

I shrugged. I was afraid if I opened my mouth to tell him anything, I'd start crying. I hated crying, especially in front of people I don't know. I wanted to tell him, to get the feeling off my chest, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. So, I bit the inside of my cheek to take my mind off everything. It didn't work, but I thought it would. I just ended up biting my cheek harder and harder until I tasted blood.

"Maybe we should turn in for the night and start again in the morning?" I asked.

"Didn't you give your room to Chris?"

"Oh fuck!" I slapped my palm on my forehead.

"But didn't you take a keyring off Jeannie May?"

"Oh yeah. I have access to all the rooms now. How do I know of one is taken?"

"Knock first, I guess."

I knocked on a couple of doors, but no one was answering because it was so late at night. I sighed in defeat. Boone offered the bed at his house and he would use the couch. What a gentleman. I nodded reluctantly, I wasn't sure I was comfortable sleeping with a man I barely knew.

His house was pristine. Everything was so clean and...not used. The bed was made and looked like it hadn't been used in forever. There was a dent on the furthest left cushion of the couch right next to the door, and it fit Boone perfectly as he sat down. I took off my Pip-boy, unzipped my hoodie, threw off my leather vest and put the hoodie back on. Once underneath the covers, I slid my leather pants off and dropped them on the floor. I had offered the bed to Boone several times, but he denied it. Said he didn't sleep much anyway. I rolled over so my back was facing him, and I heard the crumple of paper. I was curious as to why he kept rereading the bill, but I thought it better to not ask. In the comfort of the bed, with large pillows and a down comforter, it didn't take long for my eyes to droop.

We were walking down the street, the road completely paved and houses perfectly built and not caved in. Garbage and metal didn't litter the streets, and there were actual gardens and green grass. People were actually clean, no dirt and grime. No one carried a gun. People took walks and children played without fear. White picket fences surrounded homes. Boone was wearing a simple clean t shirt and jeans. He was clean shaven and his NCR beret and sunglasses were missing. I wore a plain white dress with a pink bow around the middle, which sat perfectly on top of a baby belly. I could feel it moving around, and I absentmindedly rubbed it. From across the cul-de-sac, Mom called us for dinner. Boone challenged me to a race and ran off. Of course he won - at that point I could only waddle at a semi-fast pace. Mom wore the same dress as I, just in a pale purple with a black bow. We sat down to eat, Mom saying a quick prayer, and Boone making faces at me as he held my hand under the table. I noticed both my mom and my tattoos were missing. I looked at each of them, but everyone was too preoccupied with eating.

As I went to put a spoonful of meat and vegetables in my mouth, a loud siren went off. I dropped the brown stew on myself, ruining my white dress. Boone grabbed both my mother and I, and we left the house. From the town hall where the sirens were still blaring, an automated message began playing; "bombs have been detected coming towards us. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill. Everyone evacuate the city immediately. The vault we are to enter is under the shack next to town. Do not panic, do not push. Do not run. Get there quickly and quietly. Thank you all for your cooperation." The message kept replaying as we headed out of town.

The shack was just that. A shack with a hole in the ground. We all had to go down the ladder one at a time, obviously, aside from those brave enough to just jump down into the hole. From there, we walked through a cave for a bit and found a giant vault door, labeled "Vault 29." Another announcement began playing saying that the doors would shut in 30 seconds. People began to panic. Boone held tight onto my mother's hand and mine. Despite my shaking like a leaf, he remained sturdy and calm. My mother reached over and patted my belly. I panicked even more now. People were pushing, punching, running and tripping other people. Someone stumbled and collapsed into my stomach, and felt the breath escape me. It hurt down to my core, and suddenly, I noticed the baby, who was moving the whole time before, wasn't anymore. I felt warmth between my legs, thick and sticky. I had the urge to throw up. Boone rushed up, releasing both of our hands to throw the man aside. His eyes were red rimmed, and my eyes burned on the verge of tears. His hand tightened around mine, as I was getting light headed.

10 seconds until the door closed. I could no longer see my mother. I tried to ask Boone where she was, but I couldn't even hear myself over the sirens and screams.

5 seconds - we were almost there. A few more people pushed past us. I couldn't hold back anymore, and I vomited all over myself and the person in front of us. He turned around and balled his fist, but Boone caught it midair. We were so close to the door, we could touch it. I had Boone's hand in a death grip, but the door was shutting. There were too many people rushing towards us, still kicking and elbowing. Boone's hand slipped out of mine, and he was lost in the crowd. The door started to close. I was knocked down, and I sat there in defeat. Boone and my mother were still out there. I called for both of them, but no one answered. I didn't notice who it was, but someone picked me up and pushed me through the door. I was so close to being closed in it, I had to pull my feet up to my chin to avoid them being caught. I looked around; no Boone. No mom. I sat in my own blood, still not feeling any movement inside of me.

Three. That's how many people I lost. The only three I had to lose. I was sobbing so hard, I couldn't catch my breath. There was pounding on the door. The earth above of us shook with a terrifying intensity. I could hear, almost feel the fire that licked the vault door. Then, everything was silent. Everything caught up to me, except my breath, and I passed out.

I woke up, drenched in sweat, still kicking and screaming. Boone sat up on the edge of the bed and asked if I needed anything.

"I...you're...you're alive?" I was shaking.

"What do you mean?"

"Where's Mom?" I asked. "She was with you!"

"Harley, I need you to calm down."

"No! Tell me where Mom is!"

He grabbed me by the shoulders and shook me, "you're awake, Harley. You're awake."

The rest of the room slowly came into view; the couch with the dent in the cushion, a TV playing an old-world show about a housewife named Lucy, the cleanliness of the room. The feeling of loneliness was back like a ton of bricks slamming into my chest, and before I could stop myself, I shoved my head under Boone's arm and cried. His muscles went rigid, but he didn't move. I cried until I couldn't breathe and no more tears came out, and then I sobbed and hiccuped some more.What the fuck? I thought to myself, I've known him for like twelve hours, why am I dreaming about him like that?

"I'm...I'm sorry. I just..." I trailed off, not really focusing on anything but laying back down. Boone's eyebrows furrowed, and his shirt was drenched, but he sat there for what seemed like hours. I kept apologizing. The dream was so...vivid. I felt the man fall on my stomach, I felt the blood pool between my legs, and the cool metal floor of the vault. I felt it all. It was also the second time I dreamed my mother had died. I put a hand on my stomach, but it curved in as usual.

"Can I call you Craig?" I asked, my voice cracking.

"Sure," he said in an unnaturally soft tone.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"26."

"How...how old were you when Carla got pregnant?"

"This is personal stuff you're asking."

"Sorry," I rolled over and tried to get comfortable. He still didn't leave my side.

"...I was 22. About to turn 23. I...when I found out, I knew at that moment I wasn't going to reenlist, but my tour was still a while away from being over."

"How...did you know she's dead?"

"Okay, enough question time. Get some more sleep." His soft tone was gone, and he got up and went over to the couch again.

"Craig?" The word felt strange. I only knew him for a day, but calling him by something other than Boone was...weird.

"Hm?" He was wiping his rifle down, checking it at every angle.

"I'm sorry."

"It's okay. If I slept, I'd be doing the same thing."

Something dawned on me. I'm not sure how, but I just knew. He killed Carla. He said she was sold to slavery, and heknewshe was dead, so he shot her to prevent that from happening. He probably relived it every night when he closed his eyes. I took a dare and asked him about my theory. He sighed, putting his head in his hands. Why am I making him do this?

"Yes. I followed them, and I found her being...auctioned. Like a piece of meat. Those Legion assholes were selling something no man has a right to. It was just my rifle and I, and lots of them. So I took the shot. I killed her and my baby. I'm a coward. Something tells me I could've saved them, but I was a coward..." His voice wavered, and I heard him choking back tears. I am such a dick.

I got up and sat down beside him. I put my arms around him and drew him down to my chest, locking him in a hug. I patted his head and he sobbed and sobbed.

"I'm sorry," I said once again.

He lifted his head, "No. I needed that. No one ever wanted to talk to me about it. I told Manny, and I could tell he was glad. He never liked her. It's been pent up all this time. I'm glad to finally get it out. I've told two people. She's been dead 3 years and I've told two people."

"It's okay to hurt. It's normal. I'll be here. Just let me know if you need anything."

I laid back down, facing him the whole time. He never went back to his steely reserve, he instead just looked...worn out. He took off his glasses to rub his eyes, and for a brief moment, I saw the bags under them. Heavy and full of burden and worry. I wanted to cry for him, but it was all used up.

He went over and turned a dial on the TV. The housewife show that was on was replaced by a kid's show about a cat and mouse playing pranks on each other. I smiled, occasionally laughing to myself.

"I used to watch this all the time when I was little. My mom brought me all the holotapes of this show that she could find."

"How old are you?" He asked.

"23. Why? Does it make me immature?"

He smirked, "maybe a little."