Summary:
Drew struggles to deal with the loss of his long time friend and spotter Williams while undergoing physiotherapy at Camp McCarran to get his strength and co-ordination back, but his reminder that he still has friends who care about him help him to begin to push past that barrier and accept his grief. He accepts Olivia's offer to help him get through his recovery, though he eventually realises that spending more time with her in such an intimate way would only make the fond feelings he carries for her grow into something more...
Olivia is involved with the interrogations being carried out at Camp McCarran on the Legionary POW soldiers and comes across one soldier who is able to give her some information on her brother, Christopher. She finds out his name given by the Legion is Aelius and that he was part of a scouting party that was ambushed by a cannibalistic tribe. Her trail of information runs cold when she finds out the one person who could have revealed her brother's fate was Aurelius - the man she killed in battle at Hoover Dam. Though disheartened, there is still more she can find out with the interrogation of their next prisoner - Vulpes Inculta.
Straining under his own weight and the merciless effect of gravity on his beat-up body, Drew pushed himself to take the last three steps. His arms shook as they tried to take some of the weight off his legs by supporting himself on the ten-foot long metal support poles at shoulder distance to his left and right, while his doctor stood at the opposite end observing his progress.
A week had gone by since he'd regained consciousness after his surgery to repair the damage his body had sustained at the battle for Hoover Dam; a week of intense physical as well as psychological pain… At least the pain from his physio treatments was keeping his mind occupied, preventing him from drifting to unpleasant memories when the ceiling collapsed on him and Williams.
'You were such an ass toward her', a voice guilted him in the back of his mind, 'She was your partner and you failed her'.
"Focus, Andrew!" the doctor's voice called him back to reality and he realised he'd been locked in the same position for the past minute, "I know it hurts, but push past it. Only three short steps to go and you're done".
'Okay…okay I can do this', he grimaced, his face contorted in pained concentration as he forced his body to move one step…then another…and finishing the third with a loud exhale of exertion. The doctor had his wheelchair on standby and helped him shuffle to it.
"This is pointless", he panted, succumbing to gravity and collapsing into the chair.
"It's only been a few days since we started your therapy and you're already on your feet! I call that a win", the doctor tried to encourage him, but it was no use. What he really meant to say was that it was pointless that he had been saved and not Williams…that he survived, and his partner didn't…
But he didn't say that; the last thing he wanted now was some stranger psychoanalysing him. He simply let the doctor wheel him to his bed so the nurses could change him out of his sweat soaked linens and into clean ones, leaving him alone again with an unopened letter addressed to him…from Williams.
That letter had plagued him since he woke up and saw it waiting on the bed stand beside him. It remained untouched since the day he received it, a constant reminder of who he'd lost.
It baffled him why she would write a letter to him of all people. Far as he remembered, Williams did have a family in the South West in a place called Goodsprings… why she even bothered to use her time to write a final letter to him was something he didn't get.
Before he had time for his mind to drown in its own pathetic guilt, the nurses came in and helped him clean up and get into clean clothes, very shortly followed by Olivia who came round once or twice a day to see how he was doing.
"How'd it go today?" Olivia asked once the nurses had finished their work and left him alone with her. He noticed her gaze drift to William's unopened letter on the bedside table. "Haven't read it yet, huh?"
"No… Not yet", Drew answered, not wanting to get into the plethora of reasons keeping him from reading its contents, "Physio went fine".
"That's good to hear. You are looking much better every day", Olivia smiled, helping to adjust a pillow behind his back to make him more comfortable.
"I guess", he added less enthusiastically, averting his gaze from her. All he wanted right now was to be left alone.
"I bumped into your doctor on the way and he says that you should be out of here in a day or two at the earliest", Olivia added, thinking of what she could say to cheer him up, "They just want to do some final tests to see that the implants are working properly, but we'll have to come in every day to continue building up your strength with the exercises".
"We?" Drew's gaze diverted to hers, a perplexed look in his features, "What do you mean?"
"Well… You can't stay alone in your accommodation", Olivia shifted in her seat awkwardly, "The doctors wanted to assign some carers for you but I volunteered to help".
"That's not necessary", Drew shook his head adamantly, "I can manage on my own".
"In a few weeks you will be able to yeah, but for now-"
"I don't need anyone taking care of me Olivia", Drew cut her off abruptly, making her flinch, "I will manage on my own. I don't need anyone's help or pity".
Olivia pursed her lips, taken aback by his abrupt reaction, "No Drew, you can barely move around on your own without struggling. You are going to need help getting back on your feet… But if you're not comfortable with getting the help you need from me and would prefer the carers instead, then I'll go let the doctor know".
Even though he refused to meet her gaze, he could feel Olivia's on him, waiting for him to pick which option he preferred even though he desperately wanted to be left alone. After a long moment of consideration, he relented and accepted Olivia's help, partially because he just wanted her to leave him in peace. Although he despised the idea of being a burden on anyone, he knew he could trust Olivia… He just hoped that once his recovery was over, she wouldn't see him as less of a man…
A week into the interrogations and it seemed that the NCR wasn't getting anywhere near to finding the information Olivia needed… the information she was promised by Colonel Moore. Almost a third of the prisoners that were captured and taken to McCarran for questioning committed suicide in one way or another, leaving McCarran in a teetering position with the top brass. If they couldn't get the information they needed out of the remaining prisoners, the General would issue the order for them to be transported to headquarters for intensive questioning; if that happened, Olivia knew she would never get the answers she desperately needed.
Standing outside the interrogation room, Olivia was allowed to watch the interrogation process being carried out on all Legionary soldiers… and there were a lot of them. From young recruits to weathered looking centurions, Olivia watched all of them being put through the gruelling paces. There were several questions she had written down for the interrogator, Lt. Carrie Boyd, to help her in finding her brother, Christopher; but so far none of the prisoners were talking.
Olivia lent on the weathered wall looking into the room through the one-way glass, rubbing her temples from fatigue. They had brought in veteran Legionary soldier, a burly man in his mid-forties with rough looking greying hair and beard with vicious looking scars that Olivia could see on some exposed skin. He was also missing two fingers on his left hand.
Lt. Boyd stood several paces away from him, looking over some documents on her clipboard with a bored expression on her features, "Alright, prisoner number 57, Veteran Legionary rank… state your name for the record".
Silence.
"Alright, we'll just call you 57", Boyd answered with a condescending smile after the man refused to answer and proceeded with her questions. They were standard questions the higher-ups had formulated for interrogation purposes, many of them unchanged since the Great War: "How many soldiers in your unit?", "What was your mission?", "What contact did you have with your leader?"… all questions that were ridiculous when you asked a Legionary soldier as they stared back either blankly or with a stupid grin that made her want to punch off of their face.
As with the others, things were moving nowhere with the questioning…until Boyd got to Olivia's questions.
"Did you have any contact with a Legionary soldier by the name of Christopher?" Boyd exhaled, scratching the back of her neck with her pen. The man didn't say anything, but Olivia noticed his gaze flit from the ground to Boyd and he seemed to straighten somewhat in his interrogation chair; and Boyd caught on to his body language as well.
"Ah, looks like we have a winner", Boyd grinned, her eyes flicking to the one-way mirror and back at her prisoner.
Olivia felt a surge of adrenaline and her heart began to race; she craned her head closer to the speaker, not wanting to miss a single word that came next.
"What's the matter 57? Did I get you all tongue tied?", Boyd teased him, knowing Legionary soldiers hated being made to look foolish especially when the one who made them look that way was a woman.
"We don't have anyone with that name in the Legion", the prisoner spoke in a low and gruff voice.
"No, I'm sure the Legion did its best to erase the name his family gave him with some ridiculous Latin name Caesar insists every new recruit be given", Boyd carried on, "But you still reacted when I mentioned the name Christopher… That leads me to conclude you must have known him".
The prisoner's eyes narrowed at Boyd; Olivia could see that her tactics were working, albeit slowly.
"I have nothing to say on that matter", the prisoner replied, turning his head away from her in disdain.
Boyd smirked, making a note on her clipboard before she turned on her heel and exited the interrogation room through the only doorway, locking the door shut behind her.
"Hey, there you are", Boyd approached Olivia and they both exchanging knowing glances, "I think a different…approach would be helpful", she gave her a curt nod and indicated for Olivia to follow her back through into the interrogation room.
With the door locked behind them, the two women stood in front of the prisoner, watching as he failed to hide his confusion at how his situation was developing. Olivia didn't exactly know what her purpose was inside the interrogation room, but she knew to follow Boyd's lead.
"This is a family member of the individual named Christopher", Boyd began, taking one step closer to him, "If you help us find Christopher, then we can help you with your current situation…make your new start in life here a bit easier for you".
Olivia wondered how this was going to help with extracting information from the man, especially knowing how Legionary soldiers are especially trained to be hardy against interrogation; she didn't see how this man would react any differently.
"Let's not be shy here, you clearly know where Christopher is and my colleague here needs to know where to find him", Boyd added when neither one of them spoke after a few moments of awkward silence.
"And what makes you so sure that I will give you anything?" the man asked gruffly, his stare falling onto Boyd.
"Because you know the Legion has lost", Boyd cocked her head, a satisfied grin spreading on her lips, "And because you have nothing but a small concrete cell to look forward to for the rest of your life. That or the prospect of suicide, which I imagine would be quite a waste seeing as your master has abandoned you all and couldn't give a molerat's ass whether you live or die. Why make life difficult on yourself for such a megalomaniacal tyrant when we can be civil and work out something that we can all be…satisfied with?"
The prisoner examined them both for what felt like a long while before releasing a silent exhale and he fixated on Olivia.
"I'm guessing you're one of his sisters", he cocked his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he looked her up and down.
"You knew him then", Olivia stated, feeling herself holding in her breath in anticipation.
He gave her a small curt nod, though something in his eyes gave her the impression she wasn't about to receive good news.
"You'll want to pull up a chair".
There was something about NCR accommodations that left a lot to be desired, especially when it came to using housing outside of encampments. Drew sat in his wheelchair begrudgingly looking into the dim and dusty ground floor room of the El Rey Motel, an old-world building that was just across the road from Camp McCarran. Due to the overcrowding situation Camp McCarran was dealing with now that there were freed slaves from Caesar's Legion that needed medical attention, NCR personnel were being given accommodations outside of the Camp. The Sergeant that helped wheel him here stood beside him, his arms folded across his chest as both he and Drew stood outside the doorway.
"Don't worry, they will have a cleaning crew come in to sort everything out for you", the Sergeant tried to reassure him, but Drew knew that could take weeks with all the work that has piled up and, seeing as he was expected to move in here the next day, he knew that the cleaning wouldn't get done before then.
The motel room was small and smelled as if it hadn't been aired in years; the worn and fraying carpet stained beyond saving with who knows what kind of vile liquids from the previous occupants, the mattress of the bed in the far corner of the room was likewise just as filthy, and Drew was certain that the bathroom in the other corner was just as bad, if not worse. A partially boarded up window at the end of the room allowed some light in, but the window was broken leaving shards of glass strewn haphazardly all over the floor. He heaved a heavy sigh, wishing he could go back to his tent in Camp Forlorn Hope; then, remembering that he used to share a bunk bed with Williams, was overwhelmed with a grief so heavy it made him visibly slump in his chair. Nothing would ever be the same again… He was no longer that naïve young man who enlisted into the NCR with romanticised ideas about going into battle; war had change him, broken him, leaving behind physical and mental scars that he would have to live with for the rest of his life.
"Thanks Sergeant…", he mustered a reply and allowed the man to wheel him back to the medical bay for his final night's stay in the Camp…at least they had clean sheets and pillows there.
That evening he lay in his hospital bed unable to sleep while the other patients happily dozed and snored the night away, his gaze fixated on the letter from Williams still waiting to be read. He reached out and took it in his hands, running his thumb over the loose seal.
'Read it you coward', a voice chided him in the back of his head.
Taking a deep breath in, he gently opened the seal and quietly pulled out the short piece of paper, scooting closer to the light of his candle so he could read it.
"Drew, if you're reading this then I'm not with you anymore. Wow… It feels so weird writing this. You're probably wondering why I'm writing a letter to you, afterall none of our other colleagues take the time to write a final message to their partners… we're just supposed to accept the losses we endure, not get attached so we can be partnered up with another team mate if the other gets killed, but… You're my best friend Drew"
Drew felt a pain and weight in his chest like he'd never felt before as large silent tears rolled down his cheeks. He hurriedly wiped them away so he could carry on reading.
"I can't imagine not being around anymore…not being there when you need someone to watch your back, to help console you when the weight of it all gets to much…to be the one friend you can talk to about anything when you need it most. You're the best friend I ever had, always been there for me, and I'm incredibly grateful that I had you in my life… I just wanted you to know that.
If you do get this letter, I have one request: go speak to my folks; knowing them, they'll want to hear all about our adventures together, and I know they'll be more at peace if someone who knew me as well as you did could speak with them, rather than simply receiving a standard letter from headquarters.
Most important of all, and I know this request might be a bit tricky: … don't mourn my passing. I had a good life, better than most and I don't want those who knew me to be saddened by my passing but be happy for the memories we made together. Those will last forever.
Good luck to you my friend, enjoy your life, make new happy memories, and… maybe… we'll see each other again someday…
Jade Williams"
It was the most heart wrenching thing he'd read; even so, it put a small smile on his face. Although she was gone, this letter felt as though he still had a piece of her left… and for the first time since he'd woken up from surgery Drew was able to sleep soundly, his dreams no longer one repeating hellish nightmare of his last memories at the battle for Hoover Dam, but of fond memories he shared with Jade Williams, his best friend and comrade in arms.
Morning came swiftly and Drew's day proceeded as normal: breakfast at 0700 sharp, followed by some light physiotherapy half an hour later to get him warmed up for the more challenging session in the afternoon. In between these times he got a chance to socialise somewhat with the other soldiers who were in the same medical room as he and got a visit from his doctor, who seemed pleased with his progress and was happy to discharge him at the end of the day after some more tests.
The thought of being wheeled to that temporary accommodation he was relegated to left a bitter taste in his mouth, especially because he didn't want to have Olivia there in squalid conditions trying to help him do everyday tasks that would be otherwise extremely difficult without help. Before the doctor had a chance to move on to the next patient, Drew brought this to his attention but his concerns were waved away with the same thing he heard the Sergeant say the other day.
"Don't worry, I'm sure the cleaning crews are on it and your new accommodation will be all set by the time you are discharged today", was the doctor's response, though Drew found that hard to believe.
After his afternoon physiotherapy session completed and he was changed out of his sweat soaked garments and into his clean set of military off duty clothes consisting of white short sleeve t-shirt and olive green cotton trousers, he sat on the edge of his bed waiting for his visit from Olivia. It was 1400 hours and she normally came by to see him this time of the day. He wondered what she'd been up to in her day to day activities, knowing that there wasn't that much to do around the base except for plenty of administrative work now that the war was over with the Legion and things had simmered down with the Fiends. Fifteen minutes went by, then half an hour; after almost an hour he realised that she was probably not able to come see him today.
"Your girl not coming to see you?" Johnson, one of the recovering soldiers in the bed next to Drew's, asked curiously.
Drew sighed and tried to relax in his bed, "Guess not, and she's not my girl, she'd just a friend".
"The brass probably have her doing some errands around the base", Johnson added, "I heard they're helping relocate the freed slaves these days. She's probably being kept busy with that".
"Yeah, s'pose so", Drew nodded, settling in his bed.
Despite not having a visit from Olivia, the afternoon passed quickly for Drew. One of Johnson's friends, a dark haired and classically handsome 1st Recon sniper came by to visit and the three of them played some cards together to help pass the time; they got so caught up in their game and swapping war stories that Drew didn't realise it was almost 1700 hours and he was due to be discharged shortly.
"Damn it, I forgot they're discharging me out of the ward by end of day", he commented, tossing his cards onto the side table and scooting to the edge of his bed with strained effort in an attempt to check his bag underneath his bed.
"You make it sound like they're going to rush in here, put you in a wheelbarrow and dump you outside the fence like a pile of brahmin manure", Johnson laughed, "Relax. When they get here, they get here. You've got all your things packed already, right?"
"Yeah", Drew answered hesitantly, going over any items he may have possibly missed, even though he knew he hardly had any personal items with him apart from some of his clothes and Williams' letter.
"Then sit back, relax, and when the nurses come to hand you your paperwork Gunner here'll help get you where you need to go", Johnson shrugged, "Just uh… make sure he wheels you to your place and not through the gates to New Vegas", he chuckled, giving his 1st Recon buddy a friendly wink.
"Oh, no, that's alright. I wouldn't want to be a bother", Drew shook his head.
"It's no trouble at all", Gunner, the 1st Recon sniper replied, giving him a friendly grin, "Happy to do it in fact. Any friend of Johnson here's a friend of mine".
"Thanks, appreciate it", Drew returned his smile awkwardly.
Shortly afterwards two nurses arrived into their room, filled out some paperwork for him and gave him some notes from his doctor and his physiotherapist on what medications and exercises he was supposed to continue with, and helped him into his wheelchair.
"Thanks ladies, I'll take it from here", Gunner flashed the two nurses a charming grin, making the older woman roll her eyes at him while the younger sent him a sultry wink just as she walked out the door following her colleague.
"Alright, next stop The Tops casino", Gunner announced jokingly, "I hope you brought enough caps". And with that, Drew was wheeled out of that stuffy, windowless room with a reclined ovation from the other patients he shared the room with.
Even though he had only been in the McCarran medical ward for a little over a week, it felt as though a lot more time had gone by. It was hard to imagine that not long ago his very survival was an uncertainty; now, he was recovering, getting stronger day by day and being released out into the world.
Once they left the cold concrete interior of McCarran airport dimly lit with artificial lighting, the golden rays from the sun sitting low on the horizon outside felt invigoratingly warm and inviting. Drew directed Gunner on where he needed to go and they exchanged some contact details on the way. He found out there was a team of 1st Recon snipers at the base and that if Drew ever needed assistance getting back on his feet, he would have their help and support. Knowing that there was a group of other fellow 1st Recon guys close by helped put him at ease and know that he wasn't alone in his struggles.
As they left the tall front gate of McCarran airport and made their way to El Ray motel, Drew and Gunner noticed a large crew of people working outside the accommodations; from the looks of it they were clearing out all the rooms. A team of military personnel and civilians were all working together, replacing worn and broken furniture with newer items, ripping out the carpets and putting in new floors.
"Well well, looks like you had nothing to worry about", Gunner gave him a reassuring tap on the shoulder and wheeled him closer so they could get a better look. As they neared, Drew saw a familiar figure leaving his assigned room, carrying a large filled bucket and going around the corner of the building to toss its contents. When she came back round she caught sight of him and smiled, dropping the bucket to one side and approached the two men.
"Hey! How does it feel to be outside again?" Olivia asked, lightly dusting herself off.
"Great!" Drew replied enthusiastically, "What's going on here?"
"We've been renovating", Olivia answered with a satisfied smile, "When I found out that they were going to move you and several other personnel from McCarran base to this place, I spoke to some people and got a crew together to help fix this place up. We've been working since dawn to get the rooms in a liveable condition".
"Ah, so you're Olivia", Gunner's keen eyes looked her over, "Drew's told us so much about you. It's nice to meet you in person", he reached out for a handshake which Olivia accepted.
"Thank you", she replied, a somewhat amused look in her eyes, "It's nice to meet you too… Though Drew's not mentioned you before".
"Drew and I only met a few hours ago, but he sounds rather fond of you", Gunner replied, making Drew feel his face turn a bright magenta, "Well, my job as chauffeur here is done; but if either of you needs anything else, let me know. I'm with the 1st Recon here at McCarran".
"Thanks, we'll keep that in mind", Olivia answered politely, though she couldn't help shake the feeling that there were other motives behind his overly friendly demeanour. When Gunner finally left and Olivia was sure he was out of hearing range, she shot Drew a curious look.
"Your new friend seems…nice", she said.
"I uh… suppose", Drew glanced behind to make sure they weren't overheard, "A little too charming for my liking".
His observation made Olivia grin, "Come, I want to show you your new room". She took the handles behind his chair and wheeled him in. Drew couldn't believe how much of a difference her efforts made; it was like a completely new room. The dingy carpet was out and replaced with a wood effect linoleum, the bed was completely swapped out and the mattress tucked in new and fresh off white linens, two chests of drawers, a wooden bureau desk with a chair and lamp to the left of them next to the door, and a single cot opposite the double bed. The unbearable smell of stale mouldy air was completely gone, replaced with the scent of clean sheets and a faint plastic smell of the new linoleum floor.
"This is…wow", Drew's eyes were as wide as saucers, "How did you manage all of this?"
"I had help from the others", Olivia acknowledged with a tired exhale, though truthfully much of the work was carried out by herself, "You like it?"
"Yeah!" Drew nodded enthusiastically, wheeling himself further inside to check out the rest of the space. The broken door to the bathroom had also been replaced with a new one and the insides were scrubbed clean. Olivia noticed his attention focused on the cot opposite the double bed.
"That'll be my bed, just until you're recovered and back on your feet", she added, walking into the room and straightening some items on the bureau.
"You… You're going to stay here?" Drew asked, suddenly feeling awkward and unsure of whether they had agreed to this when he accepted her help.
"Yeah, that was the plan", Olivia nodded, "You're still recovering and will need help with your everyday activities".
Drew felt his heart quicken in his chest and a sudden onset of panic grip him. If she was going to be helping him, that meant she was going to help him with everything… including getting clothed, preparing food, bathing, and using the restroom…
"Uh, that's alright Olivia, you don't need to do all that", he stammered, feeling his face turn a bright red colour again and his mouth dry up, "I'm doing a lot…lot better. I can manage much of the things on my own".
"Oh, you can?" Olivia turned to him, her brows arched in curiosity. Drew saw her eyes flicker from him to his bed and back again, "Alright, show me".
"What?"
"Go change your shirt and trousers", she indicated with a nod of her head to the dresser that was next to the bed, "There's clean clothing in there for you to wear".
Drew glanced at the dresser then back at Olivia, who was standing a few paces opposite him waiting for him to prove he could do the basic thing of getting changed.
"Alright…", he answered hesitantly after a moment, turned his wheelchair around with a grunt and wheeled himself to the dresser. He opened the drawers and took out a pair of grey jogging bottoms and white t-shirt, placing them on the side of the bed, and gave Olivia a glance pleading her to not look while he undressed.
"Go on", Olivia placed her hands on her hips, a determined look on her features.
"Can't a man have his privacy?" Drew chuckled nervously, which only elicited a negative response from Olivia.
Heaving a long exhale, Drew started with his shirt, crossing his arms as he grabbed hold of the bottom and willed his arms to pull it up and off himself, only to find his arms not as responsive as they used to be and his shirt stuck around his shoulders. Panting and wiggling in his chair to get a better angle, he tried to lean on the side of the bed to get better purchase and pull the shirt in a direction parallel with the ground, but he forgot to set the brake on his wheelchair and it began to move backwards while his body moved forward.
"Woah!", he exclaimed as he felt his body tilt forward and begin to leave the chair, until Olivia rushed toward him and caught him in her arms.
"It's alright, I got you", she called in a soft voice and pulled his shirt back down over his head, but that didn't help quell the frustration that had been building inside Drew and he snapped.
"I can do it alone, alright?!" he shouted, immediately regretting his reaction when she flinched.
"No, you can't Drew… But given time, patience and some physical therapy you will be able to do all of this and more without anyone's assistance", she retorted in a calm but determined voice.
Still panting from the exertion and the pain that came with it, Drew slumped back in his chair, wiping the thin sheen of perspiration from his forehead, "… I'm sorry for snapping at you… I didn't mean it".
"I know", Olivia's gaze met his and she gave him a heart-warming smile, "It's alright to need help, you know?"
Drew nodded, breaking his gaze from hers as he felt the embarrassment of being seen in his current state, "I just… It doesn't feel right".
"What doesn't?" Olivia asked curiously, sitting down on the edge of his bed.
Drew shrugged, not knowing how to eloquently put his thoughts and worries into words.
"Drew, you don't have to be embarrassed… if that's what it is?" she placed a supportive hand on his shoulder, "I have experience with rehabilitation methods and getting people back on their feet. It's what a lot of women had to do within the Legion when we had sick and injured… for other women and men".
"But this is different", Drew tried to explain, "With you and me".
"How so?"
'Because I clearly have feelings for you, and I don't want you to see me like this… this crippled and weak man who can't even take off his own God damned shirt without falling over', he thought to say but the words didn't leave his lips.
"Drew, I care about you… A lot more than you think", Olivia started, trying to find her footing with how she continued as she wanted to get the right message across to him, "You found and saved me by the river when others would have simply declared me a lost cause. You cared about me when others didn't".
"If this is about repaying me, there's no need t-"
"No", Olivia interrupted him shaking hear head as she took hold of his hand, her bright eyes locked with his, "It's not about repayment".
In that moment, Drew was almost certain that she felt the same for him as he did for her; though as quickly as that feeling came, doubt also followed suit.
"I just don't want you to think less of me", was all he could muster in response.
"That could never happen, no matter what", she gave him an encouraging smile that made him feel more at ease.
"…Alright", he responded after a thoughtful moment, trying to quell his mind from playing possibly embarrassing scenarios in his head and instead opting to see this as an opportunity for them both to get to know each other a bit better.
"Alright", Olivia repeated warmly with a nod, "Now… What do you say we have ourselves something to eat?"
At the mention of food Drew felt his stomach churn, preparing to emit a low grumble, "I say I'm starving" and followed her into the small kitchenette in a separate room opposite the lavatory. That evening was one of the best he'd had in a while. They ate some warmed up Salisbury steak with mashed potatoes and a mushroom gravy sauce, shared some childhood stories and memories of people they had lost but would always remember, and by the time they finished up and were ready to turn in for the night, the crew fixing up the other rooms had also finished and they were left in peaceful silence.
Even though he still felt a bit uncomfortable about Olivia seeing him possibly naked and going through the trouble of doing basic things for him, he gratefully accepted her help when he changed out of his day clothes and into appropriate sleepwear, and especially when he needed to go relieve himself. Much to his relief, Olivia knew exactly what to do on her part when it came to these more intimate needs; she showed and helped him to use his chair for support so he could get himself onto and off the seat, and once he was comfortable allowed him to have his privacy. Overall, Drew quickly found out that his worries about embarrassing himself in front of Olivia were not warranted, especially seeing as she was more caring and gentler toward him than the nurses and doctors who took on his care at Camp McCarran.
"Thank you, Olivia", Drew said as she helped get him into his new clean bed and under a warm blanket, "And… I'm sorry, again, for my outburst earlier… I didn't mean it and you certainly don't deserve that treatment".
"Don't worry Drew, it's already been forgotten", Olivia reassured him, "I know how tough the road to recovery can be… It makes us do and say things we would otherwise never consider".
"Yeah…", Drew answered almost in a whisper, acutely aware of how much the war had changed him. He just hoped that there was still some semblance of the old Andrew left inside him, "For what it's worth…I'm really glad you're here, helping me".
Her smile was almost enough to ease his troubles away.
"Me too", she answered with a silent exhale, "We should get some rest. Got another busy day ahead of us tomorrow".
Drew bid her goodnight and turned onto his side to get comfortable in bed while Olivia finished getting ready to turn in. As she turned the lights out and his gaze followed her to her cot, he felt awful that he got to sleep on a nice comfortable mattress while she reclined on a stiff military standard issue foldout cot. He almost caught himself saying out loud that, if she wanted to, she could share the bed with him…but common sense made him think better about it. Olivia was not just a gorgeous woman physically; she was strong, brave and incredibly intelligent and he cared about her deeply. Since the day he brought her back to Camp Forlorn Hope he knew that there was a connection between them, but he also knew that Olivia had been through enough in her life to want to deal with the potential of a romantic interest, especially seeing as she had just been reunited with her mother and younger sister not long ago.
'Perhaps this wasn't such a good idea', he thought to himself, realising that every day he spent with her would be that much harder for him to keep those feelings from blossoming into something more.
'You're incredibly lucky to have any friends left alive after that war, especially Olivia. Don't do anything stupid to mess it up between you', a voice warned him in the back of his mind, and although he didn't like its message he knew it was right.
Not wanting to continue having unpleasant thoughts about potentially marring the good friendship he developed with Olivia, Drew closed his eyes and willed himself to go to sleep, listening to the faint sounds of the breeze outside rustling through the curtains and the distant sounds of New Vegas, until he felt his mind clear of worries and troubles and drift off into slumber.
Laying in her cot opposite Drew, Olivia lay on her back and wondered how long she'd been awake for. Drew had already drifted off to sleep some time ago, and though she was exhausted herself she still found it difficult to fall asleep. Her mind was going over the events of the day, swimming in the information she gathered from the interview with the prisoner, who eventually revealed his name to be Domitius. From what brief information he had given them, he knew her brother Christopher – in fact, he was one of the men that oversaw the final training and tests new Legionary recruits went through to obtain their ranks. She'd found out that he was given a new name – Aelius – and that he had disappeared some months ago on a patrol that was attacked by cannibals. Although Domitius stated that Caesar approved an investigation be carried out by a Legionary team, the one man who could have revealed the fate of her brother was killed at the Dam… by her own hand.
The trail had run cold and Olivia didn't know if her brother was alive or dead; however, Boyd assured her that their next interrogation of Vulpes Inculta might shed some light into the situation for them. She shuddered just thinking his name and a dread filled her whole body as she remembered the things he did to her and the other women.
'No more… he can't hurt you ever again', she said to herself, brusquely wiping off the tears that trailed down her cheeks and wishing she could be consoled by her mother and sister, 'This time he's your prisoner…and you will get your answers. No matter what it takes'.