A/N: I'm really sorry for the week long wait on this chapter. My week just kinda got away from me, and it was really hard to find time to write. But I just got this one all done, and I really hope everyone loves it!
However, I'm also happy to report that I got my rhythm back, I'll be the first to admit that the last chapter was kinda shitty, but I hope this chapter picks up and isn't quite so boring. But isn't that what Fanfiction's for? To help hone and practice writing skills?
Much love.


"I don't fucking believe you! I mean seriously!" I screamed at Mick, slamming my fist down on the counter, while with my other hand, I popped two more pain-pills. Which in reality, was just glorified Buffout that's been soaked in whiskey.

But hey, they took the edge off just like the doctor said they would.

"There's nothing to believe, that's how much it costs for two people. Do you even know the price of the supplies, not to mention the sheer man-power it takes to get these passports exactly right! 1000 caps!" He screamed back at me, and if I had been in better shape, I would've punched him straight in the face.

I could see Craig out of the corner of my eye. He was standing outside, on the other of the window, pinching the bridge of his nose. He had to leave the room once Mick and I had gotten into our haggling/screaming match/business deal, probably to keep from shooting Mick, but I was beginning to think it may have been smarter to let Craig talk to him.

I was by far, the more taciturn out of the two of us.

"Fine! We'll get the other 500, but these better be the best, fucking passports you've ever made in your whole miserable, fucking existence!" I shouted, before stopping back outside, tossing my bottle of meds back in my duffel.

"Well, we're fucked!" I was still shouting, but when I realized other people were staring, I quieted down. Craig passed me a lit cigarette and I took it gratefully, inhaling the savory smoke, and sliding down the concrete wall to kneel by the window, resting the muscles in my back.

"How're you feeling?" Craig whispered, kneeling down next to me, I gave him a small smile.
"I've been better…" I admitted, taking a thick drag off my cigarette.

"How're we supposed to get another 500 caps? Oh my god, that's next to impossible…" I whined, knocking the back of my head against the wall in annoyance. I couldn't believe it for one, I mean, I was a merchant! I used to run a whole fucking water caravan! I should be able to haggle perfectly, to get anything for any price! But no!

"We're just gonna have to find some more work. Something'll come along eventually…" Craig spoke, but I wasn't really listening. I hated this, I hated the fact that we were fighting tooth and nail just to survive, it was never like this in California, or back when I was running water all over the Mojave. I always had enough caps to get by, to buy a stimpak if I needed it.

It was so goddamn hard now…

"What if something doesn't come along? I mean, where can we go? The Crimson Caravan is being picked apart by the NCR right now, the bounties didn't pay enough for both of us, and there's little to no fucking mercenary work on this end of the Mojave because NCR takes care of all that stuff. Up north, yeah, there's work because it's untamed out there, but down here in Vegas..psh…no one will pay us when they can have the NCR do it for them…" I didn't see myself as being negative, I saw myself as being realistic.

But is there really much a difference in the Mojave?

"Well…" Craig sounded like he was about to suggest something, but he stopped himself.
"What is it?" I looked towards him, blowing out a small stream of smoke towards the ground.

"There's always the Thorn. But, I mean, it's not much of an option. It's dangerous as all hell and you make so little per fight unless you know, you're fighting 18 Deathclaws or whatever. We'd lose more in ammo expenditure and medical bills just to keep us alive." He shrugged lighting himself his own cigarette and taking a healthy drag.

"It's something to consider…" I was lying, because it wasn't. The Thorn was too deadly, and I wouldn't put either of us in that place. To bet or gamble on fights, maybe, but I was never going to fight in that place. For all I knew, the fights were rigged to kill you.

"Well, it's getting late; we need to find a place where we can get some sleep. We can't afford to go back to the Atomic Wrangler though…" I said as I stood, pulling my muscles into a more comfortable position.

When I had left the clinic, Dr. Usanagi had informed me that my back would probably never be the same, and it would always cause me a little bit of pain, but as long as I kept my muscles working, and I didn't let them tense up, I should be fine. Which was a fancy and polite way of saying, I was too fucked up to get better, so just tank me up on drugs and I'm good to go.

I pressed my cigarette into the concrete wall, snuffing the cherry out and popped another pain-pill.

"There's the El Rey…it's a ruined motel a little bit outside of McCarran, it's mostly full up with druggies and chem heads, but there's rooms that still have beds in them. It's a bit of a hike though…" Craig offered, snuffing his cigarette out against the sidewalk and standing up beside me.

"Sounds good, the walk'll be good for my back." He gave me a small grin and we left Freeside.


I was panting by the time we got to the motel, the walk had been longer then I had anticipated, and although we were able to make it before sundown, my back was screaming by the time when Craig kicked in one of the motel doors and pushed the dresser in front of it once we were inside.

"Oh wow." I deadpanned when I looked around the room. The place was a wreck, naturally. Plaster falling from the ceiling with each step, the wallpaper torn and scraped where it wasn't either completely ripped off or stained with what looked like dried blood. The 200 year old carpet actually crunched under my feet as I walked around on it.

I didn't even want to know what was going on in the bathroom at the end of the hall.

"I never said it was nice." Craig chuckled and I rolled my eyes, tossing my duffel down next to the absolutely tiny bed, and tossing another pain pill into my mouth and swallowing it dry. I knew I was probably getting addicted, but I didn't much give a fuck, I would detox when I didn't need them.

I pushed the worn leather jacket from my shoulders, and pulled the oversized shirt Craig had loaned from back at Camp Golf out of the knot I had it in near my hip. The shirt's hem dropped down to my mid thigh. I kicked my boots off and lied down onto the thin, uncomfortable mattress slowly, moaning when my back made contact with one of the wooden bars of the frame.

Craig shut the thin curtains, and walked over towards me a sad look on his face.

"Here, this should help." He said quietly as he grabbed one of the various pillows strewn about the room, and placed it beneath my back. He kicked off his boots and set himself down behind me supporting the pillow and my back with his body.

The pain seemed to lessen and I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Any better?" He asked, his arm encircling my waist, and I leaned my head back against his shoulder.

"Quite, thank you." I mumbled lightly, smiling up at him in thankfulness. It was strange to me though, I don't really quite remember how it got this way. We were friends one second, and then the next, I told him I loved him, and then suddenly, it was like this, with small secret smiles, and arms wrapped around each other and light kisses when we were alone.

It was fucking sickening, and I didn't understand it.

All this love, and hope, and gooey feelings were cutting into me, and I hated this feeling of having feelings, but whenever I looked at Craig, I couldn't help feeling those feelings!

My life is such a goddamn mess…

"Y'know, I fell asleep before you ever managed to tell me why you're so cool with this…whatever it is we have." I said, pushing myself into a sitting position. If I was lying down, I'd fall asleep again and that was the last thing I wanted right now. Grabbing my shotgun from the floor, I clicked the shells out, grabbed the cloth from my duffel and began to clean away some of the grime and dust from the wasteland while I let Craig explain.

"Do we have to do this now?" Craig sighed, grabbing his pack of cigarettes and lighting up.

"It's important, now get talking." I demanded, chipping away at a piece of dried on blood with my cloth-covered thumbnail.

Another long sigh; and the nearly silent hiss of tobacco disintegrating.

"I don't really know. It's just…it's not that I'm looking for a replacement for Carla and I really want you to understand that. I'm not just trying to fill a space. I just feel like…It's hard to describe…" I rolled my eyes and turned to him, "Could you speed this along, I'm tired and I wanna hear this before I pass the fuck out!" He laughed and sat up next to me.

"You are…loyal, brave, kind and one of the smartest people I know. And, I…I don't love you, I can't say that, at least not yet, but I think I could. I don't wanna give you any wrong ideas, Cass. It's just…complicated like I said. I mean…I can still see her face…" I took a hard look at Craig and set my gun down before leaning over and wrapped my arms around him, carefully avoiding the lit cigarette.

"It's okay, we're both pretty screwed up, but we'll work through it, together." I gave him a smile and he lightly kissed my forehead.

"It's like Verlaine went around collecting charity cases." We both chuckled.

"Hey, where's her Pip-boy? I wanna listen to the radio for a bit before bed." I said, looking around inside my duffel bag.
"I tossed it in mine – here." Craig said, pulling the device out of his bag and handing it too me. I quickly started to file through stations before I found one in particular.

"That's weird…does this thing pick up all stations nearby?" I asked, flipping through more dials.

"I have no idea," He admitted, in between a drag on his cigarette.
"This is really weird; there are all these stations that have no names…" I said while I grabbed Craig's cigarette; took a drag and placed it back in between his fingers.

I stopped on a named station.

"Happy Trails Caravan…" I whispered, clicking the dial to tune in and waited for the static to clear before the message began.


"I don't like this at all." Craig said as we walked up towards the cave. I was panting, yet again, and popping more of those fucking pain pills every hour or so, each time sending my nerves into a little dance.

"You don't have to like it, they're paying enough to get us into the Strip, and that's the important part. And besides, it's just caravan work, so it's not like it's going to be physically taxing." I answered him, chewing on one of the pills.

"You're going to overdose on those if you aren't careful…" He warned, reaching for the bottle in my hand which I snatched away.
"I am not, and I need them, they take the edge off." I hissed, sliding the pill bottle back through the opening I left in my duffel.

"If you don't ration them, you are going to run out. How many do you have left?" He asked; stopping and crossing his arms. I swore, grabbed the bottle back out and popped the top off. I stared into the bottle trying to count them.

"I'd say I have about 40 left…" I guessed. It seemed like a close enough number.

"You're going to need to start taking them at half doses." He uncrossed his arms and started walking again, I trailed behind him.

"What? Why?" I demanded, shoving the bottle back into my pack, safe and sound where no one else could touch them. They were like…my life line. I needed the whole pill.
"Do the math, Cass. The message said it was 3 weeks each way to get wherever we're going on this trip, how many days are in 3 weeks?"

"21." I crossed my arms, rocking around on the balls of my feet, curving and working my back muscles.
"Now times that by 2."

"42…" I saw the logic, but I didn't want to accept it. I'd be in screaming pain then…

"Now add however long we're there, plus if you get injured, and then…" I held up a hand to shush him,
"Okay, I get it, thanks, Mr. Sunshine." He gave me a grin and we kept walking till we came to the mouth of the cave.

"Hello…" I called inside, and I heard some talking, but it sounded like it was far off and deep inside the cave.
"Someone's in there…" I said before pulling out a flashlight from within my duffel and started inside. It was a quick walk, but it was a steep incline, we eventually came upon a small grouping of people, with a man sitting on a crate.

"Um…is this the Happy Trails Caravan Company?" Craig asked warily. Most of the people in here looked far better armed than either of us, especially the woman with a grenade launcher hefted and ready to literally blow someone's life away.

"Oh good, someone else got my message." The man on the crate said happily, gazing up at us from the map he was pouring over sitting in his lap.
"We were beginning to think it was just gonna be us. Welcome, welcome!" He cheered, standing up and waddling over to us.

"I'm Jed Masterson! Owner of this fine Caravan, and you are?" I politely took a step back when the man was suddenly in my goddamn face.
"I'm Craig Boone, and this is…Rose Cassidy." Craig introduced us when he saw my trepidation at having someone up so close to me. I didn't know why it freaked me out, but I was guessing because he was a man…and because I didn't know him.

Ever since Camp Golf, those were two concepts I was not comfortable with when mixed together.

"You can just call me Cass though, I prefer it. So um…you need Caravan guards, right?" I asked, while eyeing the other people in the cave. I counted four others. The woman with the grenade launcher, a man in leather armor next to her, a woman decked out in mercenary gear with an energy rifle strapped across her back, and last but not least, some guy who was standing there in a vault suit.

He had his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and judging from the welts that decorated the inside of his forearms, I'd say he had been a Psycho addict for a while now…

"Well, yes and no. We've got guards, what we need is a map. And if you heard the radio message, then that means you must have a Pip-boy! So welcome aboard!" The guy seemed far too cheery, but I chalked it up to him finally getting the resources he needed.

"Well, we've got what you need. Is payment confirmed on arrival?" I asked, finally being able to sink into what I knew. I knew Caravan's, I knew how to run them, I knew what was worth getting paid over, and I knew what the work was. This would be easy. Craig and I could be in Vegas the day we got back…

"Half now, and half on arrival, our destination is New Canaan out in Utah." I raised my eyebrows; that was a fucking long haul.

"I haven't been through Utah in a few years, what road exactly are we taking?" I asked, walking around towards the cargo boxes stacked nearby, I wanted to pry a lid off and take a look at what exactly we were transporting, but thought better of it, that could piss somebody the fuck off.

"Were going in through Zion…" I stared at the man, trying to gauge him. That was dangerous territory, the cliffs were thin, and the weather could get bad. Not to mention the fucking wildlife. Monstrous mutated bears that'd sooner rip you in two then look at you.

"What are we moving?" I asked, running a hand along the crate.

"Basic supplies is all." He shrugged and sat back down.

"Well, what the fuck are we waiting for?" The mercenary girl spoke up, leaning heavily against the wall. The girl with the grenade launcher and the other two men said nothing, they just stayed where they were, lost in their own little worlds.

"Brahmin, Stella. A guy I know owns a ranch out near Vegas, he's bringing the beasts and we'll set out. He should actually be here anytime." Jed sighed, as if he has to explain a lot of basic things to the girl…Stella.

I sat down near Craig and leaned against the wall of the cave, letting the acrid air wash over me. I popped another pill, and began the wait…


A/N: I'll admit, I think I'm one of the few people who actually really, really loved Honest Hearts. Anyway, I hope it's easy to see where I'm going with this. It may not be exactly what you're thinking though...
Music for this chapter was
Stone-Hearts and Hand-Grenades by Leona Lewis.
I really hope everyone loved this chapter; and as usual, I totally love comments, critiques, constructive criticism and everything in between.