Author's Note: Sorry for the delay on this one. D: There were... complications. Compounded with a bout of severe laziness. Ha. Then today, I injured my ankle. It's only a light strain but I've been ordered to sit my ass down and rest it, so this chapter finally got attention. I could have broken this into two chapters, honestly, but I decided not to. So behold, my longest chapter yet. Thank you all for reading! Reviews are like sunshine and rainbows. :)

It was some time later before Riley had the energy to attempt to stand on her own again. Boone had deposited her, rather unceremoniously, in the care of Cass, before stalking off to do god knew what. She wanted to see Veronica, talk to Christine. She wanted to ask Dean about that autograph but Cass was having none of it. She stuck her with a stimpak and, in the middle of her bitching, Riley passed out in the chair.

When she awoke she was alone. She felt better. Not top of the world, but she stood on her own and walked on her own and hey, that was progress. Never mind the crick in her neck from sleeping in a chair. She'd nearly died, after all, and told herself that a little neck pain was a small price to pay as she looked around the room. Her bag sat on the table, those little metal chips spilling out over the surface. She picked one up, turning it over in her hand. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she should be eating something to help build up her sugar levels. Maybe she wouldn't feel so fatigued if she did. She looked back down at the chip in her hand before shovelling the rest of them into her bag and walking out the door.

She found the vending machine easily, and was surprised as it picked up codes from her Pip-Boy. The available inventory list practically doubled and her eyes widened as Stimpaks, Med-X, explosives and ammo were suddenly obtainable. And they didn't cost caps. This was, in her eyes, pretty much free.

"God, if I'd looked at this sooner this wouldn't have been such a hellhole to go through," she mumbled as she scrolled through her food options. She picked a few items and made her way back.

It was in the middle of her wolfing down a bowl of sugar bombs that her ears picked up on the voices coming from down the hall. Tension laced every word, an uncomfortable guest that only grew more restless as the voices rose. She paused, spoon in mid-air, and strained to listen.

"I'm not arguing this with you."

"Sounds a lot like arguing to me. Why can't you just consider what I have to say? It's not a huge request."

"It's a risk, Veronica. And more than he deserves."

Had to be Christine. The voice was familiar, which was odd considering Christine's previous comatose-followed-by-mute condition, and Riley frowned as she stood, her food forgotten, and made her way down the hall. The voices grew louder as she neared the room.

"He won't hurt us!"

"He's made it clear he wants us dead." This, shockingly, from Boone. "From what he said earlier to Riley, didn't seem happy she let me live."

"Yeah, why was he talking to her anyway? Why wasn't he contacting Veronica?" Cass wondered. Riley slowed, her hand on the wall.

"You got me," Boone sighed. "She said he can't hear us. Just barked commands over the speaker."

"Huh. So he's linked to her Pip-Boy," Christine put in, her tone curious. "He can track her, but not our collars. Interesting. Maybe we can use that, maybe not. You said the collars aren't linked anymore?"

"Sort of."

"Can we get back to the problem at hand?" Veronica snapped.

"He is the problem at hand," Christine sighed. "Why can't you see that?"

"I just want to talk to him."

"You keep saying that, but I don't think you truly understand what it is you're asking. Do you even know how far he's fallen? He's not the same guy, anymore, Ronnie. Didn't you listen to anything I told you? It's not safe!"

Why did Christine sound so familiar? It was nagging at her, and as she stood there trying to figure it out, she missed the footsteps coming up behind her.

"Eavesdropping, eh?" Dean whispered in her ear. She jumped, turned, and glared at him.

"Don't do that," she snapped, scowling at his smug smile. He gestured at the door, and the argument beyond it.

"Not going in?"

"I am. Why aren't you in there?"

He made a noncommittal noise in the back of his throat. "Let's just say it's a tough crowd."

She blinked at him. "I'm not following."

"Well," he said, drawing out the word hesitantly. "Sounds like a bad idea for me to walk in when they're deciding another man's fate, you know?" She didn't. "They might change their minds and decide on mine, instead."

Oh.

"If they were invested in killing you I think they would have done it already."

"A fair point," he allowed. "I'd just rather not push my luck."

The argument was picking up again in the room ahead, and Riley felt the pull to join in. She quirked a brow at Dean. "Staying here?"

"For now."

She shrugged. "Suit yourself." She gave him a parting lift of her brows and turned on her heel. She stalked down the hall, opening the door without so much as a how-do-you-do. All eyes turned to her, and she had time to take in the room as she stepped in. Veronica and Christine were standing in the middle of the room, facing off with one another. A pair of dented desks lined the walls, cabinets and shelves. Scattered books and torn pages littered the floor. Boone had taken up residence on one of the desks, hunched over with his hands folded tightly between his legs. Cass was leaning against a wall, looking bored.

"What are you doing up?" Cass sighed, exasperated. "You should be resting."

"I should have been a doctor, according to my ma," Riley retorted. "Can't always get what we want." She nodded towards Christine. "I see you're talking."

Veronica snorted. Riley frowned.

"Unless… I'm hearing wrong?"

Christine rolled her eyes. "No. It's… complicated. Glad to see you're up. Heard you were in a bad way."

"Was," Riley allowed, shrugging. "Donated a litre or so of my blood to the carpet."

Christine's lips twitched. "Generous of you."

"I try," she pulled up a chair, found it questionably stable, and sat down carefully. "So who wants to catch me up?"

Veronica turned angry eyes on Christine, neither girl speaking. Riley waited patiently until finally Cass exhaled sharply.

"Fuck's sake. Fine." She lifted a hand and began ticking each point off with her fingers. "Christine woke up in Vera's room where a two hundred year old auto-doc finished the procedure you guys interrupted in the clinic. Christine is now the proud owner of a new voice box, courtesy of one deceased Vera Keyes."

Riley's eyes widened. That was interesting. She hadn't expected that. But it explained why she sounded so familiar. The broadcast that spread across the Mojave, luring people into the legend of the Sierra Madre. That was Vera's voice.

Wait.

"Veronica's pissed that Christine isn't more upset about this. Christine is a tough-ass bitch that doesn't take shit laying down—," Cass nodded appreciatively at the smaller woman, earning a small smile, "—and wants to get on with the kill-Elijah plan. Veronica is against this and has proposed her own talk-to-Elijah plan. Boone's been frowning a lot, and I drank a bottle of whiskey." She smiled wryly. "Oh, and you saved the ghoul and none of us know why."

Wait.

Riley waited a beat. She took a slow breath. "Okay."

"So," Cass spread her arms wide. "Now you're caught up. Where do we start?"

She pursed her lips. "We start… with why Dean wanted Christine to have Vera's voice."

A grumbling sound of disgust came from the hall, followed by Dean and Dean's tailored suit appearing in the doorway. "That," he declared. "Was supposed to be a surprise. You ruined my grand entrance."

She ignored that. "You told me you were the only one who knew how to enter the vault," she said, standing. Dean lifted his hands.

"Now listen—"

"You wanted Christine to make it inside, even though she didn't have a collar," Riley went on, walking slowly towards him. "You were upset we interrupted the operation. And now," she paused, turned slightly so Dean had a full view of Christine from where he stood. "She has Vera's voice."

"Yeah," Dean folded his arms. "What's your point?"

Riley pursed her lips, then asked, "Is the key to the vault voice activated?"

Heads lifted, eyes widened as everyone stared at Riley.

"Hmmm." Dean said, eyeing her. "Put that together rather quickly."

Veronica stormed across the room, eyes livid as she tried to get at Dean. Riley stepped in front of her. She wasn't fooling anyone, she knew Veronica could easily toss her aside like a rag doll in her current condition, but to her credit, the Scribe stopped. Fists curled at her side, teeth clenched, she locked eyes with Riley, and said tightly, "Move."

"Ronnie—"

"Move, please."

"This isn't going to solve anything."

"On the contrary. My fist in his face is going to solve the problem of my anger."

"Christine doesn't seem all that upset about it," Riley pointed out. Christine sighed.

"I'm not because it doesn't matter."

Veronica whirled on her. "It matters. You lost your voice. You lost part of you."

The look on Christine's face said it was clearly the wrong thing to say.

"Don't tell me what I lost," she snapped. "I know what I lost, what I'm never getting back." Her back was rigid, her arms tight at her side, and Veronica fell quiet. Anger, hurt, sadness. Christine's eyes shone with unbridled rage and years of pent up bitterness. "Don't tell me what I lost," she repeated. "Because everything that matters that I've lost, I lost because of Elijah. Not because of him."

The room swelled with silence for a moment, one heavy moment before Veronica took an awkward step towards her.

"Don't," Christine stepped back. "Just don't. It's over. It's done. I don't need you fighting my battles for me, Ron. This?" she gestured at her throat. "This isn't going to break me. This is nothing compared to everything else. I can handle this. So let's just—" she sighed and looked away. "Let's just end this."

Veronica stood there, her face was hidden from where Riley was standing, shoulders hunched. She saw them shake, just a little, and her heart broke for her friend who had done nothing to deserve this shitty situation. Her voice was small when she spoke next, small and unsure.

"What do you want me to do?"

Riley took a breath, and explained her plan.

The meeting had ended, arguments were won, details tuned out. Now all that remained was carrying it out. Riley remained standing as one by one, they filtered out the door, the plan and the many ways it could fucking go wrong going back and forth in her head. As the plan settled in her mind, a handful of details rose to the top again, and she turned, clearing her throat. This would be the last chance to indulge in curiosities for a while. "Dean."

The ghoul stopped in the doorway, stepping aside as the others left. He adjusted his bow tie and pushed his back against the doorframe, folding his arms as he tilted his head, head canting forward just enough to slide his sunglasses away from his eyes. "I hope this is important."

She wasn't sure why she stopped him, what this mattered. It was so small a detail that she hesitated before speaking. "You wanna tell me the real deal?" she asked. "Why you avoided coming in here," she explained at his blank expression. "You're always going on about wanting the spotlight, and yet you were hiding in the hallway."

His head tilted as he considered her. "Self-preservation comes to mind," he said, his tone dry. "I don't know if it's occurred to you, but aside from you, I'm not exactly well-liked by the rest of your little group."

"The collars are still on," she reminded him. "Nobody can hurt you. So you avoided coming in here for a reason, and I hardly think 'they don't like me' is enough to stop you from stealing the show."

He scoffed, head shaking as he leaned his head back again. He didn't answer for a bit, staring off at nothingness while she stood, waiting and unsure. Finally, he spoke. "You put it together but you still don't get it. That's like you. Like... her."

She frowned. "Her?"

"Always missing the bigger picture," he said. At her confused look, he smiled brittlely. "Look, it's nothing, alright? Nothing that matters, anyhow," he added, almost as an afterthought. "Now, let's not waste any more time, eh? The show must go on." He turned and left without another word, and she waited a minute before following him out the door.

Later, once everything was prepared, they travelled up to the suites, Christine leading the way.

"I disarmed most of security up here," she said. "But some of it, well." She lifted a finger to her ear and they paused, listening.

"Sinclair? Sinclair. I'm trapped. Please, oh god, the security systems won't let me out, they're keeping me here."

"Vera," Dean breathed. He looked spooked, which in itself was worrisome. Riley frowned at Christine.

"What is this?" she whispered. Christine merely motioned for her to wait.

"I'm going to die here, amongst the ghosts," Vera's voice trembled. It sounded more distant now. "I… I'm still being recorded by the holographic system."

Ah, that explained it. Christine opened a door and beyond they could see the blue holographic ghost of Vera, glowing eerily as she patrolled the room beyond. Her voice continued.

"I came so far to be here. Now… now I just want to leave. Please," she cried. "Let me leave."

"Turn it off," Dean said hoarsely, rubbing at his brow. "Turn the damn thing off."

"I can't find the emitters," Christine said calmly. "There's no time to look for them, anyway. Come on, this way." She motioned for them to follow. It was odd, hearing her voice crying in the darkness for Sinclair, and at the same time hearing her addressing them now, strong and convicted. "We can bypass most of them. I just wanted to warn you that this floor is still dangerous."

They followed quietly, occasionally they'd hear Vera's voice in the distance, but Christine took them through safe routes, avoiding the ghostly apparition wherever possible. Still, the look on Dean's face as they moved farther through the suites was unsettling. Riley wondered, thinking back on his words, what his relationship with Vera was like. Dean said they were partners, that she'd betrayed him. He was almost dismissive when he spoke of her, disdainful of her just as much as Sinclair. When the only good thing about a person that you ever mention are her legs, that doesn't speak much for your emotional attachment to them, but Dean's horror at hearing the ghostly recordings spoke volumes more than his words ever would.

Dean loved her. Maybe not in the traditional sense. Maybe his sense of love was more twisted than others. Maybe it was only time, two hundred years worth of bitterness and regret. But in his own way, Riley got the feeling that he cared for her.

And Vera's voice played on.

"The doors, they… they sealed. I… I can hear the other guests, screaming to be let out, to let go."

"We all pay for what we've done. I'm so sorry, Sinclair."

"Sinclair? Sinclair, where did you go? Why did you leave me here? Why?"

"Jesus Christ," Cass breathed at one point. "I ain't one for tears but I could have gone my entire life without having to hear this shit."

Riley couldn't help but agree. It was chilling, hearing the last words of a trapped woman on repeat, knowing that her pleas had gone unheard for two centuries, her words dying in the middle of a dead city. But she couldn't help but feel a sort of kinship with Vera. After all, she knew what it was like to be held captive against your will, to watch as others died, to cry for someone to set you free.

And to feel regret at the part you played that got you there.

"Here," Christine said finally, opening a set of double doors into a large, luxurious suite. Riley was shocked to see windows—actual windows. None of the other rooms had them. The casino didn't, nor did the lobby or the theatre. But this room did, caked with the dust of the cloud, and yet still light shone through. The sun was rising.

"This is where I woke up," Christine explained as they filed into the room. Dean hesitated in the doorway, and then made a beeline for the bar.

"No time for drinking, Dean," Riley frowned.

"There's always time for drinking," Cass said, joining him. "Pour me one, will ya?"

They didn't have time for this, but nobody seemed to be in any rush now that they'd made it here. Veronica stood at a bookcase, pulling dusty volumes off the shelves and turning brittle pages. Boone picked up a pack of cigarettes off the table, turning it over in his hands before pulling one out and lighting it. He moved over to the windows and leaned against the glass.

She supposed Elijah could wait ten more minutes.

"Can I talk to you?"

She turned, blinking at Christine. "Sure."

"In here," she jerked her head and Riley followed her into a bedroom. The words 'Let Go' were scrawled across the wall over the bed in rusted, faded red. A skeleton sat in a chair in the far corner, meds scattered on the carpet around it. Going by the dress it was wearing, that had to be Vera. She hoped Dean stayed out of this room.

Behind her, Christine closed the door.

"Um," Riley frowned as she turned around. "This seems like the perfect creepy set-up for finishing what you started at the police station."

"Cute," Christine deadpanned. "Ignoring the fact that I don't actually have a reason for killing you, I don't see the need to upset Veronica further. Congratulations," she spread her arms wide. "You get to live."

"Hurray." Riley raised a single brow. "So what's up?"

She looked down, as if trying to figure out where to start. Finally, she said, "Veronica mentioned that you were a Courier."

"Yeah," Riley said. "I am. What about it."

"Couriers carry messages," she said, hesitating. "Could you carry one for me?"

"Sure," Riley blinked. "Whatever you need. Wherever it needs to go."

"It's for… another courier. If you meet him in your travels."

"Uh," Riley sat down on the edge of Vera's bed. "There's a lot of couriers out there. Care to narrow that down some?"

"I met him a few months back, while I was tracking Elijah. Came across a place called the Big Empty. Found Elijah, fought Elijah." She exhaled sharply. "Lost Elijah. This courier, he— he helped me out, helped me escape from the place that did this to me." Christine's face hardened as she gestured at her scars, but her words were measured, calm. She met Riley's gaze. "His name was Ulysses. Do you know him?"

"No," Riley shook her head. "Name sounds Legion, though."

"Might be," she shrugged. "Not sure. Never said who he owed allegiance to. He took care of me for a few days while I healed. Didn't like talking about himself. He was funny that way. But he did mention he was searching for someone. A courier, like you. Said he had a message for them."

"And you have a message for him?" Riley tilted her head, brow furrowed. "I can't guarantee I can find this guy. I can ask around. Couriers tend to frequent the same places, Mojave Express, Mojave Outpost, the 188. You never know, someone might have heard of him. With a name like that, I'm sure he'd stick out."

Christine nodded, smiling lightly. "That's more than I can ask of you. I'm not asking you to go out of your way or anything just— if you come across him. Or mention of him. I don't know. I owe him my life. Guess maybe I just want— not sure, really. Something. A record of what happened to me. Someone ought to know the full story, and he was there for part of it."

This was starting to sound pretty bleak, but she cleared her throat and nodded like she understood what was going on. "So what's the message?"

"Tell him…" she frowned and looked down at her hands. "Tell him what happened here. To Elijah. Tell him he was right."

"About what?"

"He told me, when he found out where I was headed, that someone smarter, tougher, would kill Elijah. I don't know who'll pull the trigger," she sighed. "When it all comes down to it, I just want the bastard dead. But tell him he was right. About everything."

Riley nodded slowly. "Okay. I can do that. Anything else you can remember?"

"Bits and pieces. None of it relevant."

"Okay then. Well if you don't see him first—"

"That won't happen."

Riley opened her mouth, paused, closed it again. Finally, she said, "You're starting to sound like Boone."

"The soldier," Christine nodded. "Signs of PTSD, depression. Has that look in his eye…" she shook her head. "This isn't like that. I—"

A knock at the door stopped her, and they turned just as Cass poked her head inside. "Sorry," she said, seeing them. "Interrupting something?"

"We're done," Christine said. Cass nodded.

"Everyone's waiting."

Christine moved to leave, pausing at the doorway. She arched a brow at Riley. "Coming?"

"Yeah," she said. "Just give me five minutes. Still feeling a bit winded."

Christine nodded and shut the door.

She couldn't see the ceiling as they stepped into the room housing the entrance to the vault. The walls climbed up, towering around them like silent sentinels with no end in sight. How far deep below the surface were they?

"Well fuck me sideways and call me Candy," Cass said quietly. The metal walkways gave them their only path, stairs that led down to their objective and their freedom. Electricity hummed in the air, sparking and clashing randomly as it arced through metal. And the Cloud whispered beneath them from the depths below, thick, heavy and deadly, bringing back that rusty smell.

"Couldn't have put it better myself," Riley muttered, craning her neck as she strained to find an end to the walls. The collar shifted, biting into her skin and she pushed at it irritably.

"I feel a little disappointed," Dean remarked. "I was expecting something a little more… grand."

"All vaults are like this," Cass sighed. "Been through one or two myself. They're not fun. Or pretty."

"The one on the Strip is pretty," Riley pointed out. "Been there on leave once."

Veronica stayed quiet.

The vault entrance itself was housed in a dome-shaped, metal compartment, and they clustered around the door, shifted impatiently while Veronica worked the terminal to unlock it. Metal hinges protested loudly as the door swung open, and Veronica rushed inside.

"I'll stay here," Boone said, catching Riley's eye. "Keep a look out."

Christine peered inside, grimacing. "Yeah," she said. "Me too."

Boone moved off to one of the farther catwalks and Christine split off, covering another direction. Riley shrugged and joined the others already inside.

She found Cass holding two bars of gold, one in each hand. She glanced up at Riley with a shit-eating grin and held them up victoriously. Behind her, on a table, were piles of the stuff, glittering brightly amidst a mass of pre-war money.

"Check it out!" Cass crowed. "Shit, this almost makes this whole thing worth it."

Dean strolled over, picking up a bar for himself quietly. Riley watched him, expecting… well. Expecting something more than the quiet consideration he was currently giving. Surely, a bit more celebration was in order? This had, after all, been two hundred years in the making.

"I think—" Veronica spoke up from a terminal in far centre of the room. Riley moved over. "Hmmm. Let's see." Her fingers tapped a few keys.

The door swung shut behind them, and Riley jumped. She ran to the door, yanking on the handle. Cass joined her, both women tugging frantically until finally they heard a banging coming from the other side. They paused.

"Riley?!" Boone's voice, muffled, reached their ears. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"We're okay!" she shouted back. She wasn't sure if he heard her or not. He didn't reply, and she cursed, kicking the door. "Ron, what did you do?"

"I— I accessed a file, that's it." Veronica's voice rose frantically.

"What sort of file?" Riley moved back over to her.

"It was for Vera. It—"

"Ah, finally," Elijah's face appeared on the large screen before them and they froze, staring at it. "Finally."

"Elijah?" Veronica swallowed. "We're trapped."

"I'm aware," he said. "Too many of you down there. It's good some of you are separated."

Riley's breath caught in her throat. Boone and Christine were still outside.

"Can you let me out?" Veronica asked.

"I'm afraid not. I'm afraid, dear Veronica, that I feel that I can't trust you anymore."

"What are you talking about? Of course you can!"

"You've been turned against me," Elijah whispered. "Corrupted."

"I'm not—" Veronica stood from the chair, the frustration growing in her voice. "I just want answers. I'm not corrupted. I'm still—"

"Loyal to the Brotherhood? To me?" Elijah scoffed. "I think not. Not when you've been travelling with your friend here."

Now it was Riley's turn to frown. "Uh," she said. "What do I have to do with anything?" Veronica refused to look at her, instead she kept staring up at the screen.

"Please. You think I wasn't listening while you were running around outside? I've learned a great many things about you and your… partner." She could hear the sneer in his voice, the disdain. "NCR fools. You've befriended the enemy, Veronica. The ones responsible for the massacre at Helios."

"No, I—"

"You've turned against your family, the Codex."

Veronica slammed her fist against the desk. "No. I—"

"Betrayal."

"Come down here," Veronica said, her voice thick with emotion. "Come down and you'll see how loyal I am. I swear to you."

"I don't think so," Elijah said. "Too dangerous. Do you think I'm stupid? I'm outnumbered."

"We still have the collars on," Riley pointed out. "You come down here, we can't do anything to you, since you have the switch, right? Give Veronica a chance to at least have her answers, old man."

Silence. Then, "Hmmm. A fair point. One press of a button and my problems cease to matter. Alright, fine. I'll come down, let you make your case, Veronica. In return I'll answer what I can. I suppose I owe you at least that much. And then… then we'll see."

Behind them, the door swung open, and Riley rushed to get out, Veronica right on her heels. Boone and Christine came out from cover warily, weapons raised.

"What's going on?" Boone asked.

"He's coming down," Riley breathed.

"What are we doing?" Veronica said in a rush.

"Stick to the plan," Riley hissed. Cass and Dean joined them as the elevator whirred and clanked loudly. They stood there tensely until finally the elevator came to a stop, and they waited as Elijah made his way down the hall towards them.

Beside her, Christine jerked forward, but Boone clamped a hand on her shoulder even as Riley's arm shot out to block her. She looked over her shoulder, shaking her head minutely as Elijah came to a stop a fair distance away from them.

He was old, Riley realised. The picture that popped up on the holograms when they talked to him wasn't accurate. Shorter beard, less wrinkles. The man before them was grizzled, gaunt. Angry. A mad look shone in his eyes as he sighted the open door to the vault and Riley could only think that his obsession was killing him.

"Well," he said. "Here I am. Here you are. A bit of a one-sided showdown, hmmm. But for whom?" he chuckled as he raised his left arm, showing off the Pip-Boy that mirrored Riley's. "One wrong move," he warned. "Boom."

"A bit of a diva, isn't he?" Dean sneered.

"Takes a diva to know a diva," Cass muttered back.

"Hardly," Dean said dryly. "Don't sully my good name with the likes of that. I, my dear, am the main attraction."

"I didn't come down here to listen to your inane babbling," Elijah snapped, staring at Veronica. "Prove your loyalty."

"I want to make a deal," she said. "I stay, here, with you. I help you with whatever you're planning."

Elijah considered her. "And? I assume you have a stipulation."

"They go free," Veronica nodded. Riley whipped her head around.

"Ron—"

"Don't," Veronica shook her head. "I've decided."

Elijah looked down, folding one hand behind his back as he mused over her words. He began muttering to himself, his words carrying over to them, unaware they could hear his rambling. "There's merit in the idea, of course. Yes. Not as young as I used to be. Have to account for the frailty of the human body. Could be beneficial to have someone around to take over my work. Hmm."

He looked up. "I can't set them free. Too much risk."

"Then Christine," Veronica blurted. "Just her." Riley took a shaky breath, but didn't move.

"You're letting your emotions control you, Veronica," he scolded. "But I suppose… I can allow this one request. Come," he moved to the side, so that he stood blocking the entrance to the vault. "Stand by my side."

Veronica hurried over to him, not meeting anyone's gaze. Riley watched, unblinking, a feeling of emptiness crawling up on her despite her best intentions to stay strong.

"Turn," Elijah ordered, and when she did, he lifted his hands and worked the tricky mechanism to remove her collar, letting it fall to the metal walkway with a loud clang. He lifted his boot, kicking it over the edge. Riley swallowed as Veronica rubbed at her neck and faced them.

"Now," he said, raising his Pip-Boy. "We end this foolishness."

Riley grit her teeth. "Veronica."

"What are you doing?" Veronica whirled on him. "You said—"

"I said I'd set her free," Elijah's hand hovered over his wrist. "And what greater freedom is there than death?"

Veronica looked up at him pleadingly. "Don't—"

He flicked his gaze up, meeting Riley's angry glare. "Thank you for your services," he said. "But they are no longer required."

He pressed a button.

Nothing happened.

Riley smiled. "Boom."

Elijah's eyes widened as he stared down at his Pip-Boy.

"I don't—"

"Performance issues?" Dean stepped forward. "There's pills for that, you know. But you know, while you were hiding in your hole," he spread his hands wide. "We were taking advantage of Sinclair's saturnite walls. I suppose the square had to be good for something," he added, muttering.

Elijah's face turned livid, contorting angrily as he realised he'd been outsmarted. He raised his weapon, shouting incoherently, madly, as he started firing on them. Boone yanked Riley to the ground as energy lasers scorched the air around them. There was a scuffle of boots on metal, and she looked up just in time to see Veronica stride up behind Elijah and disarm him in three quick moves. He twisted, stumbling to find his balance even as Veronica threw his rifle over the edge.

"No—" he staggered to the railing, eyes wide. And then Christine was there, a pistol in her hand and vengeance in her eyes. He barely had time to realise his own end before she pulled the trigger.

Elijah fell. And they were free.

She could breathe again. It was the simplest thing. Inhale, exhale, repeat as necessary. But now with the collar off, each breath didn't have that underlying threat of being her last. It was fucking great.

They were standing at the entrance to a train tunnel. According to Christine it would lead them back to the bunker, where this entire thing started. The tracks were in disrepair, rusted, covered in sand, and a train sat nearby, just three cars that no longer ran. There was no Cloud, no Ghost People. The Sierra Madre sat close by, shrouded in gloom even in the afternoon light.

They were free, all except one of them.

Riley turned to look at Veronica, standing at the edge of the platform. She was staring at the city, left alone by the rest of them so she could have her moment. Goodbyes were never easy.

"We need to get going," Boone said at her side. She sighed, nodding, and moved forward.

"Veronica?"

"Hmm." The Scribe didn't turn, arms folded and shoulders hunched against the building wind. Riley touched her arm gently.

"We have to go."

Still, Veronica stayed quiet, the silence growing steadily around them even as their friends chatted in the distance.

"She wouldn't come," Veronica said finally. "I asked and—" she shook her head, laughing bitterly. "Should have seen this coming."

"It's what the Brotherhood does, isn't it?" Riley asked quietly. "Guard old-world tech?"

"Yeah," Veronica murmured, looking down. "I guess. It's what we were taught to do. I just thought…" she trailed off, and Riley smiled sympathetically. Christine choosing to stay and act as guardian over the Sierra Madre and her secrets surprised all of them. Veronica argued with her about it for most of the morning while the others got ready to leave. Didn't do any good, Riley thought, remembering her talk with Christine that morning. Her words made sense now, she realised, her decision was made long before any of them even arrived.

"She can always change her mind," Riley said, though she didn't really believe it. "She can leave, any time. She's not trapped here."

Veronica snorted. "You've met her. Once she decides something, she's set on that path. She can be just as obsessive as—" she took a deep breath, and turned pained eyes to her friend. "It doesn't matter. I found and lost both of them in this place, Riley. I didn't get my answers, only more questions. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for getting us into this mess and I just—" she looked down. "Just get me out of here?"

Riley nodded, linking her arm through Veronica's, and pulled her back to their friends.

"So," she said. "Would now be a bad time to mention that there is a silver lining?"

"Silver lining away," Veronica muttered, kicking at a stone. "I need a silver lining."

Riley smiled. "How about a gold one?"