Chapter Summary: Returning to Novac after their exploits at Fortification Hill, Beth opens up about Benny. Boone gets a fresh look at his old life before he met the Courier. A request breaks down barriers between the companions.

Chapter 18: Help Me Make it Through the Night

It was nearly dark when they got back to Novac, exhausted and dirty, despite having cleaned off most of the carnage from Fortification Hill in the clean cool water of the Colorado. Beth climbed the stairs up to her room with Boone following behind, each step feeling more and more like the earth was pulling him back down from fatigue. She stomped some dust off her boots as she slid her key into the lock and opened the door.

Boone watched as she dumped her pack on the floor and kicked off her boots as soon as she was inside. Next, she took off her hat and tossed it onto the couch; then she removed her ranger combat vest and threw it into the general direction of the dresser. Now in just her jeans and button-up shirt, she sat down on the edge of the bed and flopped back with a sigh. "One hell of a day, huh?"

Boone shut the door behind him, then dropped his own pack next to hers. "Caesar's dead. Still, it's not going to stop the Legion. Might not even slow them down." He removed his aviators and set them folded on the table next to the old TV, then he took off his armored jacket and hung it on the coat rack. The First Recon beret remained on his head.

"Still feels pretty good, though, doesn't it?" she said, staring up at the ceiling.

His face broadened into a rare grin, right eyebrow flicking up. "Heh, yeah. That was some kinda stunt we pulled. Whatever happens from here on out, we killed that prick in the middle of his fortress. Ought to give the rest of them something to think about." Sitting down on one of the old dining chairs on the other side of the bed, he studied her face. He'd noticed that she'd seemed distracted since they left the Fort's command tent. "You were quiet on the walk back. Thinking about Benny?"

Sitting up on her elbows, she inhaled deeply, then sighed. "Yeah, you know, when I wasn't thinking about the gigantic robot army, or all the legionaries we took out..." She shook her head with a thoughtful look. "I dunno. Seeing Benny there tied up, kneeling on the ground...just took me back to that night in Goodsprings when things were reversed." Taking a long pause, she sat up fully and looked over at her companion. "I begged him not to shoot me." Her face flushed at the admission and tears welled up in her eyes, as though she were confessing to something terribly shameful. Shrugging one shoulder, she pursed her lips as teardrops poured over her lids and trickled down her cheeks.

Boone's posture and expression stiffened, his chest tightening at the sight of her tears. He had assumed that Benny and the Khans had bested her in a fight, but that's not how it went down. The fucking coward had actually tied this woman up, put a gun to her head while she begged for her life, and pulled the trigger. Then he left her in a shallow grave to die. Had Boone known the whole story, he wouldn't have been able to stand by and let the man go free. Benny would have paid dearly for what he did.

"He didn't need to," she continued, wiping her face roughly with her hand, sniffing. "He had the Chip, but he did it anyway. I didn't even know who he was."

He couldn't imagine anyone seeing her as a threat, at least anyone who didn't know her. As far as Benny knew, she was just a courier. She was so sweet-looking with her deep blue eyes, tousled hair, and freckled face. Why did he think it was necessary to kill her? Boone wanted to say something comforting, but as usual, he couldn't think of what to say. Instead, he moved to sit next her her on the bed and put his arm around her.

Leaning into him, she sniffled again. "I thought I was this bad-ass wasteland bitch. I thought I could protect myself." She scoffed. "But, there I was, helpless and terrified. Like I was fresh out of the vault." A far-away look washed over her face for a moment. "All alone."

He gave her arm a small squeeze to emphasize that she wasn't alone now.

Taking another deep breath, she pulled the Chip from her pocket and studied it. "Then today...this time I had the Chip. And I had to decide what I would do. I had planned on killing him, but not like that."

While maybe it wasn't what he would have done, he sort of understood what she was saying. She didn't want to be like Benny. It was one thing to kill armed legionaries, but it was another to kill an already bloodied and broken man out of revenge while he was tied up on his knees.

Wiping her face again, her tears seemed to slow. "Before House's Autodoc or whatever fixed me up, I knew I was living on borrowed time for weeks. I told you I was fine, but the truth is the pain was...intense." She glanced at him apologetically through her damp eyelashes.

"I saw all the med-x." Suddenly, her expression changed, like she was worried about his reaction. "I understand. It was obvious you were in a lot of pain."

She nodded.

"But the amount you had left-over was...concerning." Even though he didn't know a lot about medicine, it was apparent that she'd given that Powder Ganger enough to literally kill a man twice her size. He felt a lump in his throat at the thought that she'd been storing it in case the pain got to be too much.

"I know." She looked down at her hands.

"Is that something I need to worry about?"

Looking into his eyes, she shook her head. "No. Not anymore."

"Good. If it ever is, promise to tell me. Okay?"

"I will. I promise. And...same goes?"

"Same goes." He gave her arm another squeeze.

With a sigh, she relaxed her shoulders. "I know I should have asked for help, but I didn't think there was anything anyone could do. And I wasn't really thinking clearly. I just kept going, focusing on the bastard that did that to me and making him pay. If I was going to die, I was going to take him out with me." Idly rubbing her forehead, she sniffed again. "Then, once the pain was gone and my mind was clear, he wasn't as important. I didn't—I don't feel weak anymore." She shrugged with a slight smile, looking up at him again. "I'm alive. I'm sitting here with you and this stupid Chip I never wanted. Benny's running through the desert, out of friends and without any more cards to play. I think I got the better end of the deal."

"Are you worried he's gonna come after you?"

"Nah," she said, standing up, eyes clearing. "I think we've seen the last of him. After our display at the Fort, I doubt even he's dumb enough to tempt fate again." She patted him affectionately on the shoulder and smiled. "And if he is, we'll handle it."

"I've got your back," he said, with a half smile back to her.

"Thank you. That means a lot," she returned warmly. For a long moment, she stood there as though she were going to say something more, but didn't.

"Hey, for the record, you are still a 'bad-ass wasteland bitch.'"

A grin spread across her face and she laughed. "Why that may be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me." Looking down, she studied the Platinum Chip in her hand again, still bloodied from its journey. She grasped it firmly and walked over to the open safe; she placed the chip inside and locked it in, looking relieved. "Ugh, I'm going to wash this day off," she groaned, rubbing her hands over her reddened face. She picked up her pack and walked toward the bathroom.

Boone stood up. "I should go back to my room anyway. I'll see you in the morning."

Biting her lip, she turned back to him. "Actually...would you mind staying? I don't really want to be alone...with the Chip." She laughed shakily. "I know it sounds silly, but that thing has brought me nothing but bad luck. I'd feel safer with you here."

"Uh, sure." He cleared his throat. "I'll just grab the couch."

She shook her head. "Oh, you don't have to do that. Besides, that couch is awful. I can't even sit on it. It's a big bed and we're mature adults. It's not a big deal." Waving her hand dismissively, she quickly went to the bathroom and shut the door.

"I just need to get some clean clothes," he called out, voice slightly raised. "I'll be right back."

From the bathroom, she heard the door shut behind him and she sighed.

Turning the tap on in the bathtub, she took a rad-x tablet as she watched the slightly warm water flow. Sitting down on the edge of the tub, she could almost feel his arm still around her, making her feel safe and protected. It had been a long time since someone had made her feel that way, although, she'd never really allowed herself to be so vulnerable with someone before, not since she was a child, anyway. Not only had she let him see her cry, she had admitted to feeling weak and terrified that night in Goodsprings.

If she was being honest with herself, she hadn't asked him to stay because of the Chip. She didn't want to be alone at all, didn't want him to leave.

Now that she had time alone to think about it, she realized she hadn't ever felt like this about someone before. There had been a couple of crushes on boys in the vault and a few trysts here and there since, but that was about it. Real feelings had always been easy to keep at a distance. If a guy got too close, she pulled away. If a guy left, it didn't matter because she didn't let herself care. But this was different: if he left, it would matter. She would care.

Of course she had bonded with companions in the past, but not like this. Normally, she only traveled with those who had inherent barriers to intimacy: Charon, Fawkes, Arcade. It was better that way. She thought Boone's situation and brooding nature, along with their intense quests for vengeance, would have been enough to keep any feelings from crossing the line into more than friendship, but she had been wrong.

It wasn't just physical attraction, although there was plenty of that. There were the times when he would say something funny in his wry, off-hand way and she felt like she was the only one he permitted to see that side of him. They had built a trust between them, telling each other things that no one else knew.

Yet, she couldn't shake the deep, persistent fear that no matter what she said or did, he'd eventually realize she wasn't worth sticking around for, that she would never be good enough. Something in her was deficient. If she wasn't good enough for her own father, if he could abandon her, what other man could ever truly love her?

Feeling tears welling up in her eyes again, she snapped out of it. She'd let herself get emotional about Benny and that was pulling all this other stuff to the surface. "You're being ridiculous. It's not like this is going anywhere. He's a widower, for fuck's sake!" she scolded herself. How long had Carla even been gone? She didn't know and Boone hadn't given any indication he was ready to move on. Maybe he never would be. After such a profound loss, she couldn't blame him if that were the case. Having lost so much herself, she knew how hard it was to rebuild after. Even if the feeling of loss might fade, it never really goes away.

"And besides, you're not even close to his type." Remembering the picture she had seen of his late wife, she knew there was no way she could ever compare with her. Carla was beautiful. Really beautiful. The way women in pre-war movies were beautiful: glamorous with her feminine curves, soft golden hair, and beaming smile. Beth examined herself in the cracked mirror above the sink, seeing a slim, muscular figure, more useful for dispatching slavers and fiends than seduction. Her short, dark hair and wasteland-hardened features certainly weren't beautiful. Neither were the numerous scars that adorned her skin after years of survival out of the vault.

"I might as well be a guy, as far as he's concerned," she thought, shaking her head at herself.

Undressing and removing her Pip-Boy, she climbed into the full bathtub and let herself slip under the water. She held her breath and enjoyed the calming feeling of the engulfing water in silence, letting it wash away the intrusive thoughts. When the pressure became too much, she let the air out of her lungs and sat up out of the water to take a fresh breath.

No, nothing was going to happen between her and Boone. It was better for them to stay friends and traveling companions. Whatever feelings she might have would eventually go away if she didn't indulge them. If he did leave, she'd survive. She always did.

Boone exited the room and slowly descended the steps down to the ground floor, not sure what to think. He had slept next to Beth night after night for several weeks, but not in the same bed. Usually one of them was awake, keeping watch. "What was she expecting now?" he wondered. She had said, "It's not a big deal," like they were just sharing a space and guarding the Chip, nothing more. But was that true? Is that even what he wanted?

When he first agreed to travel with her, he thought of himself as her protector out of gratitude for what she had done for him, but the more time they spent together, the more he saw how capable she was and how much he relied on her. Truly, he had never met anyone he would rather have at his side traversing the Wasteland, someone who he could trust to keep watch as he slept, someone to take out a whole Legion camp with. Together, they had done things he never thought were actually possible. How many times had he imagined seeing Caesar through his scope and putting a bullet in his skull?

Unlocking the worn lock with his key, he pushed open the door and entered his old room. Nothing had changed since the last time, except maybe for a fresh layer of dust. He had moved in here as an escape from the house in town he had shared with Carla, the one she had been taken from. Someone else probably lived there now. Instead of being a refuge, however, this room became more of a prison—he hadn't so much lived here as he had existed here, passing time, forgetting there was any other way to be. That was until Beth came along and broke him out. He hadn't expected her to ask him to stay with her tonight, but he was relieved to not have to be in this room alone for hours where all his desperate sadness hung in the air like a suffocating fog.

From the dresser, he pulled out some fresh clothes and went into the bathroom so he could clean up and change. He took off his shirt and felt his wedding ring and NCR dogtags against his chest, hanging from the chain around his neck. Pausing to grasp them in his hand, he thought about Carla, considering whether his feelings for Beth were disloyal to his wife. He assured himself that he would never have gotten so close to another woman if his wife were still alive. It would have been unthinkable. She had been gone for over a year, though, and the more time passed, the less he could stir the guilt.

Would she have wanted him to move on, find someone else? They had never talked about things like that, despite him being in the army. The letter he had written to her still rode in his pocket, encouraging her to find someone to take care of her if something happened to him. As much as he tried to suppress it, he needed caring for, too.

Blinking back the tears welling up in his eyes, he picked up his razor, lathered his face and shaved off the days of beard growth.

Until he had put his arm around Beth, he hadn't really realized how much he missed the touch of another person. He had touched her on the shoulder to get her attention, carried her and held her hand when she was near death, washed the blood from her face and tended her wounds after battle, but it was different to put his arm around her and feel her warmth against his side, comforting and familiar. It wasn't that he wanted to take things further—he wasn't sure he was really ready for that. It was just that she was so open and warm, he wanted to be closer to her.

The only time she had shown direct affection for him, however, was weeks ago when she had kissed him on the cheek back at the Lucky 38 and called him her hero. The memory of her soft lips on his skin made his stomach flutter, but he couldn't be sure she meant it as anything more than just a gesture of gratitude.

After he finished getting cleaned up, he dressed in his fresh clothes. He threw a few belongings and some extra clothes into a spare duffel bag, then slung it over his shoulder. Switching off the lights and exiting the room felt freeing, and he never wanted to go back in again.

As he slowly walked to the stairs, he heard footsteps in the gravel courtyard. It was Manny coming out from his watch. "Hey, man!" he called out, picking up his pace.

Boone didn't acknowledge him; instead, he went up the stairs and back into the first room at the top.

Inside, Beth was just coming out of the bathroom dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, gently toweling off her hair. He saw that her previously reddened eyes had mostly cleared and she had a sweet, yet sad smile on her face. "Hey," she greeted. She tossed the wet towel over one of the dining chairs and ran her fingers through her wavy chestnut hair.

Closing the door behind him and locking it securely, he turned to her and walked closer. When he reached her, he tenderly put his hand to her cheek, bent down and pressed his lips to hers. He felt her briefly tense in hesitation before she reciprocated the kiss. Their lips and tongues caressed so naturally, it was hard to believe it was for the first time. His arm wrapped around her waist as her hands came up to hold onto his arms tenderly. Sliding his hand from her cheek to the back of her neck, he felt her soft hair between his fingers. When the kiss broke, she smiled, but looked taken by surprise. Part of him was, too, since he hadn't really been planning on kissing her until the moment he saw her.

After a minute of the companions staring at each other, he broke the silence. "I think we should get some sleep," he observed as he withdrew his hands from her.

Dropping her hold on his arms, she gave an affirming nod. He switched off the light, leaving them in darkness except for the small amount of light from outside the boarded-up window and they both climbed into bed. There in the quiet dark, Boone stared up at the ceiling for a long minute, still unsure of what to say or do now.

Unexpectedly, she rolled toward him and rested her head on his shoulder, draping her arm across his chest. He noticed she wasn't wearing her Pip-Boy. Leaning his cheek against her damp hair, he smelled the sweet scent yucca flowers, starting to forget that he wasn't allowed to be happy. He wrapped his arms around her and drew her close as he closed his eyes and whispered, "Good night, Beth."

"Goodnight." After a moment, she spoke up again, "Boone? Would you do me a favor?"

"Anything."

She sniffed and said quietly, "If you ever do decide to leave...let me know. Don't just take off. Okay?" Her voice broke on the last word.

Opening his eyes, he wondered why she would think he would leave, especially without saying anything. The tone of her voice told him not to question it. "Okay. I'll tell you."

"Thanks."

"I'm not going anywhere without you, though."

"Okay," she said so quietly, he barely heard it. Soon after, he felt her breathing slow and he figured she was asleep, so he closed his eyes again and let himself drift off.