-Celeste-

I woke up earlier than anyone should. Silus and Livius were still asleep. I rolled onto my side and stared through the threadbare curtains. Light from the Strip was seeping into our room. It's funny how that light always seems to follow me, but now it was staring me right in the face.

My hand went to the scar on my forehead. My hair was completely covering it at that point. I sighed and rubbed my fingers along the stitches. I remember when it felt like my injury was the biggest part of me. It consumed my mind, dictated my every action. I feel like I've gotten better, but maybe it's just like the hair. The scar is still there, just covered up.

I rolled away from the window and tried to go back to sleep. The nightmares, the auditory hallucinations, the throbbing headaches, they all seemed to vanish. But I was left with a feeling of general apathy. I don't know if that's better.

...

Even though we could walk to the Strip's front gates from our apartment, none of us had enough money to buy our way in. I mean, we were only a thousand caps short.

Getting work in Freeside was tough without selling your body on the street (a suggestion Livius did not appreciate) or selling your bodily organs on the street (a suggestion Silus did not appreciate), so the only work I could find was picking up tin cans around town. Yes, this was a definite fall from grace. I went from being a top chemist for the Enclave, to a wasteland doctor, to a wasteland drug dealer, and now a trash picker-upper. But I suppose there are worse jobs. At least I wasn't a legionary.

Freeside did have a crime problem that made my job a lot more difficult. People would randomly attack me with crowbars or switchblades, but I was usually able to get away. That wasn't the hard part of the job.

No the most difficult part was walking through the other drug dealer's territory.

Halfway towards our apartment was a blown up section of town that was crawling with junkies, addicts, and abusers. I didn't like seeing this. My feet shuffled against the rubble and I took a long way around to avoid contact with an old man who was shaking in a cold sweat. I tried to tell myself that this wasn't my fault, but even that I was finding hard to believe. The words Livius said back in Novac rang through my damaged ears.

I held the bag of cans closer to my chest and made a mad dash back home.

...

The three of us had to eat out of cans for dinner. It wasn't that bad, actually reminded me of being back in my shack.

I didn't like that Silus was there. I didn't know if Livius even wanted him around. But he wasn't bothering anyone at the moment. He just sat against the wall and turned the can around in his hands. It was hard to believe that he was an elite commander at some point.

Livius ate his food like it was the first meal he's eaten in years. I didn't think canned food was that good. Something else seemed to be occupying his mind. I was going to question him on it, but he hasn't spoken to me since McCarran. Maybe that was for the best. I was still angry, who wouldn't be? The centurion staying with us didn't help.

Livius tossed his can to the side and stood up, grabbing his bag.

"I'm going for a walk."

I choked down the rest of my food. "You want me to come with you? These parts can get pretty dangerous at night."

He seemed very insistent on going alone. He backed up against the door.

"No, just me. You two have fun."

The door slammed behind him. I glanced over at Silus before looking back down at my squishy food.

Believe it or not, I was still not used to the company of legionary soldiers.

-Livius-

I needed a reason to get out of the house. Not because of Silus, but of course I didn't mind getting away from him. I really wished I could have left earlier, but this was the only time that worked.

The sun was setting by the time I left Freeside, but I was able to get to my first destination before it got dark. I buried my NCR uniform in a bag just outside the camp. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw it was still there. I rubbed my forehead and changed as quickly as I could without anyone seeing me. I slipped a knife into my sleeve and adjusted my hat over my eyes. Then I ran back into Camp McCarran.

I didn't stop to talk to anyone else. I only had one goal in mind. I ran into the main room then up the stairs to the prisons. A guard stepped out, strapping his ring of keys to his belt, and I waited until he turned around. My breaths came out in little silent huffs as I snuck up behind him.

My hand clasped over his mouth and I pressed the knife against his throat.

"Not a sound."

He grunted against my palm and I sliced his throat. I removed the keys from his belt and abandoned his body in a nearby storage closet. I let my breathing return to normal, then I ran into the prisons.

Michael was curled up against the wall of his cell and I felt a huge sense of guilt and happiness when I saw him. A weird combination. I raced over to the cell door and began trying to unlock it.

"Stanley?" He slowly got up from his cot and made his way over to me. "You came back?"

"I don't leave people behind." I managed to find the right key and I opened the door for him.

Michael reached out to hug me, but I pushed him away.

"Not until I get you out of here."

He nodded and I handed him my hat and scarf so he could hide his face.

"So, what's the plan?" Michael whispered at me, pushing his scarf down.

I stilled, realizing I haven't thought that far ahead.

"Just...leaving, I guess."

He stared at me. "You mean we're just going to walk out the front door?"

"Something like that."

He stopped to think for a moment.

"Well I'm going to die either way. I just don't want you to get tangled up in this."

"I want to get tangled up in this. That's why I'm here."

I grabbed Michael's wrist as we ran towards the front entrance. We were almost at the courtyard when I saw someone walking towards us. I stopped and shoved Michael into a broom closet. I guess that was my go-to strategy now.

"Hey, Stanley." Douglas stopped in front of me. "You're still here?"

I blocked the closet door with my body. "I forgot a few things. How are you?"

He sighed and shrugged. "You're smart for getting out. Morale's at an all-time low after the whole monorail incident."

I just nodded.

"Sorry about Michael, I know he was your friend." He patted me on the shoulder and I shrank away. "But you did the right thing by telling everyone, I hope you know that."

"Yeah, I just couldn't keep that information inside." I kept staring down at my feet. "I still feel guilty."

Douglas's expression softened. "He was a good soldier, but remember where his loyalty lies. I know that won't help completely, but it's a start."

I choked down a response and nodded. Douglas said his goodbyes and went back down the hall. When he was gone, I opened the closet door.

Michael stepped out, rubbing his eyes. "It's surreal hearing that from my own squad. I thought they would have believed me."

I didn't say anything. I just grabbed his arm and lead him back down the hall.

I thought the NCR would have increased their security after the train incident, but it looked like their biggest concern was upping their security around the monorail. Michael and I were able to slip out of camp quite easily. He sat down on a boulder as I changed back into my normal clothing.

"So...this is it?" He rested his chin in his hands.

"Not exactly." I stood up, grabbing my machete from my bag. "It's night and there are raiders around here. I can fight them off for you."

He smirked. "So are you my bodyguard now?"

I tossed him my rifle. "Try 'friend'. Let's go."

I was always used to raiders fighting with shoddy improvised weapons or near-broken guns, but the ones around Freeside apparently got their hands on energy weapons. The night air was lit up with multi-colored lights and laser sounds. Michael had to fight most of them off since he had the ranged weapon. I mean, I helped too of course.

We managed to lose them when we got to the Freeside gate. The door creaked open and I couldn't breathe until we were safe. Well, safe-er.

Michael handed me my rifle back and hugged me. "Thank you."

I put my hands on his shoulders, but I didn't move away. "You can't stay here. The NCR will be after you."

"I know."

"Here." I reached into my bag and gave him a bag of caps. "There should be enough for you go get a place here and enough to help you leave."

He stared at the caps in disbelief. "You're giving this all to me? Won't you need it?"

I shrugged. "I'll just leech off of my cousin."

Michael was silent for a long time, then he pocketed the caps.

"Will I see you around here?"

I looked back at my apartment. "Yeah, we're not leaving for a while."

He smiled. "Well if I don't get killed by NCR assassins, we should hang out sometime."

"I'll promise not to jump out of any windows."

He pulled me into another hug. "If you do, you know I'll carry you home."

I patted his back. "Me too...I mean if you jump out of a window. Please don't jump out of a window."

He pulled away. "Get some rest, Stanley."

"I'll try."

-Celeste-

Here's a joke for you: two legionaries and a drug dealer walk into a bar.

Hopefully by the end of the night I'll have a punchline.

But yeah, Silus, Livius, and I decided to drop by a nearby bar. I really do try to avoid these places, but it was close by and there wasn't a lot else to do. What the hell.

It was definitely a bar for the downtrodden. Dim lights, slow-tempo music drooling out of a crackling sound system, lots of people wandering around aimlessly with a misty drink in their hand. Basically, my kind of bar.

Everyone inside the foggy dank building was under the influence of something, so I was able to smoke without Livius getting his panties in a twist. He seemed uncomfortable enough already.

"Lighten up, kid." Silus ordered a drink from the bar. Livius looked like he was going to pass out.

"We're not supposed to drink..." His voice barely leaked out of him.

"You don't catch on quick, do you?" The ex-centurion took a sip of his beer and slid another glass towards Livius. "You're a free man. You don't have to worry about those bullshit rules now."

"Stop it." I stared down at my own reflection in my glass. "Don't force him to drink. It's a bitch to stop once you're hooked."

"Fine, but I'm giving you a chance to let loose. Lord knows you need it." He scanned the bar. "You see those two women by the window?" He pointed out two women in patchwork dresses drinking near the front of the bar.

"What about them?"

"Well they've been staring at you ever since we sat down." Silus clapped him on the shoulder. "If you get both of them, I'll make sure you're promoted to decanus."

"Silus, you're drunk."

"You don't even know what a drunk person looks like."

I thought my glass was going to shatter under my clenched fingers, but I remained silent.

Livius stood up. "I'm going home."

"We just got here."

Livius left without bothering to respond.

Silus turned back towards the bar. "What's his problem?"

"He's a legionary. That's one thing."

He rubbed his forehead. "This footsoldier has been travelling with you for how long now?"

"Since October."

"And he's still brainwashed by Caesar's propaganda?"

I shrugged and twirled my finger over the rim of my glass. "Conditioning like this is hard to melt away, trust me. Some habits just don't die off." I stared down into my drink. "I mean, after my brother died I told myself I'd stop drinking. And here I am."

"I see."

"I've been sober for three years." I downed the rest of my glass. "I only relapsed a few weeks ago."

"That's nice."

"I don't like how I get when I'm drunk. I get violent, angry. My brother pleaded me to quit but I was never strong enough. After his passing, I felt like I owed him. But I failed. I just can't stay away."

"Is there a reason you're telling me all this?"

I slammed my glass down on the bar and turned back to him.

"I'm sorry, I thought we were having a moment."

"Why the hell did you think that?"

I sighed and rubbed my scar. "I guess not all legionaries are so easy to talk to."

"Livius is a footsoldier. He is trained to just absorb information without thinking twice about it or objecting." Silus sat back and folded his arms. "But I'm no footsoldier. So if you have a point, get to it."

My stomach was on fire from either the liquor or the rage stewing within me, but I kept my response stoic as possible.

"What I'm saying is that if Livius is going to change, he's going to need a motivation. An influence."

Silus scoffed. "Well he did sabotage a major legion plan for you."

"I suppose." I pushed my glass to the side. "Hopefully something can influence him to change that won't result in his execution."

-Livius-

I just sat outside the apartment without entering. My hands clenched into fists at my sides. I hated Silus. I hated him. If he just sent our troop out on time, the NCR never would have gotten word of our positioning and I wouldn't be in this mess. Then he gets himself captured and he has the nerve to call me a bad legionary. And then he has the nerve to act like a profligate when he got out. Centurions don't drink! They don't!

I was fuming, but there was no one else I could turn to. Celeste seemed more and more distant the closer we got to the Strip. Or maybe that was just after the monorail incident.

The only thing to look at outside the apartment was the meat stand across the street. Even at night, profligates would come up, drop a few caps on the table, and leave with some pieces of meat on a stick.

All profligates start to look the same after a while, but then I saw someone I recognized. Michael stood in line for the stand, pulling his jacket around his shoulders. I almost didn't notice him since he wasn't in uniform. I liked him better like this. It made it easier to forget that he should be at the target-end of my rifle.

I got up and snuck up behind him. He gasped when I poked at his arm.

"Christ, Stanley. Don't scare me like that." Michael let out a breathy laugh. "Not when I have a bounty on my head."

"I'm sorry." I rubbed the back of my neck. "So are you busy?"

Michael shrugged. "I could always get food tomorrow."

I smiled and looked back at the apartment. "Um, well my apartment has a ladder that does to the roof. The view is probably nice."

He smirked and I felt like an idiot.

"I think that's only for emergencies."

"I've been breaking a lot of rules lately."

"You're a bad influence, Stanley."

"I'm sorry."

Even though I didn't like how profligate lands looked, I'll admit that everything looked a lot nicer from the rooftop. All of the gray was faded into blackness and even the intense light from the Strip seemed beautiful at a distance. Also Michael was there. That helped.

"I never saw the city like this before." He sat down next to me. "I like it."

I just nodded, unable to speak. I don't know why but I felt...scared? Nervous? I don't know. The feeling only increased when Michael reached down and grabbed my hand.

"Sorry." He kept his eyes facing out to the city. I don't know if it was the light from the Strip or not, but I could see his face getting more and more red. "I just really like you, Stanley."

Hearing those words caught me off guard.

"Wait, what?"

Michael smiled. "If you really didn't catch on, I need to up my game."

"No, I just..." I rubbed my forehead with my other hand. "I don't think anyone's ever liked me before. I mean maybe my cousin, but not like this and she did try to throw me off a building once."

Michael gave me a weird look. "I think we should get off this roof. You seem to have a poor history with high places."

I shook my head. "Forget about it."

"But you're something else, you know that?" He leaned in closer to me and I didn't bother to back away. "When I met you I just thought you were some cute guy with pretty eyes. Now you're breaking me out of an NCR prison? I mean you're still cute, but now you're kind of a badass. Not many people would do that for me."

My face felt like it was on fire. I kept my gaze down at the concrete floor. "No one's ever called me that before." I closed my eyes and tried to relax my heartbeat. "But are you okay with no longer being an NCR soldier?"

His expression dropped, his grip on my hand tightened. "I don't know. I mean I thought I'd always be a soldier. To have that suddenly taken from me...it's a big change."

I nodded. I thought I was going to choke.

Michael leaned against my shoulder and out of instinct I put my arm around him. I wasn't used to being this close to someone, especially for this long.

"Stanley?"

"Yeah?"

"If the Legion and the NCR go to war again, will you be fighting too?"

My fingers clenched around his upper arm. "I hope so. I'm still a soldier."

I don't know why, but Michael looked really sad when I said that. I reached out and touched the side of his face. That seemed to surprise him, it surprised me too. I couldn't remember the last time I touched someone's face, especially like this.

He moved his head up to look at me, but he didn't say anything. I felt my stomach do a flip when I saw his face getting closer to mine. Even my thoughts were forced into a stunned silence as I did the same. I couldn't remember the last time someone's face was this close to mine. But then, all of the guilt I've been forcing down came crashing back. My hand on his shoulder was shaking. I knew I was going to regret this, but I had no choice. I pulled back before we could make contact.

I turned away from Michael. I couldn't face him. But I could still hear him behind me, trying to stammer out a response.

"I, um..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, I thought you were..."

"That's not it, Michael." I could hear the tears leaking back into my voice. No, I wasn't going to cry. "I really like you. I...never kissed anyone before, but I wanted to do this. I just don't want to lie to you anymore."

Michael was quiet for a long time.

"What are you talking about?"

I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath.

"My name isn't Stanley. My name is Livius." I choked on my own tears. "I'm a legionary."

I snuck a peak at Michael's face, but I couldn't stand to look for very long.

"Is this some kind of sick joke? Because it isn't funny."

I shook my head. "No, I'm telling the truth."

"But that means...you're the one who framed me?"

"Please!" I stood up and faced him. Looking into his eyes was the hardest thing I ever had to do. "I had no choice! I needed to plant the documents on somebody and I only knew your combination so-"

"Enough! You ruined my life!" He shoved me away. "What else were you lying to me about? Who is this 'cousin' of yours? One of your slaves?"

"Actually she's a drug dealer." I had a feeling I wasn't going to fix this.

Michael glared at me for a solid minute then turned away.

"Michael, wait!" I chased after him and he stopped. "I know you hate me now. I know you don't want to see me again. But can I please help you get home? It can get dangerous at night."

He scoffed. "You didn't seem to care about me getting hurt when you framed me."

"Michael, please."

He stared down at his feet, then waved for me to follow him.

As we walked through Freeside, Michael made sure I stayed a great deal behind him at all times. I wasn't allowed to talk to him either. This was fine. At least I could make sure he was okay.

We stopped in front of a tiny building near the edge of town. I walked him to the front stairs, but he slammed the door in my face before I could say anything. I felt like a hole was being burned into my chest, but I still had a tiny feeling of hope that I did the right thing. I felt sick, but maybe I had to.

I was starting to lose touch of who I really was.

-Michael-

Stanley...Livius...whatever didn't leave my corner until well after he dropped me off. He just paced back and forth in front of my house in a daze. Was this his attempt at making me think he still cared about me? I'm not impressed.

I never felt so much rage for someone I once cared about. He never once cared about me and why should he? He's a legionary. I'm pretty sure those assholes are incapable of human emotion.

I didn't even bother to turn the lights on as I drifted aimlessly through my house. When I approached the kitchen, I couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that someone was in there with me.

"Hello?" I felt around for something I could use as a weapon. The front door was still in my line of sight, so I could always run for it.

Sitting at the kitchen table was a man in a brown suit and a hat pulled over his eyes. The moonlight from the windows gleamed against a butterfly knife being twisted around in his pale hands.

"Michael Vivas." He spoke quietly, as if he didn't intend for me to hear him. "You have been making my job very difficult."