AN - To answer your question Feline... honestly I don't see myself going back to those stories any time soon. I'm sorry if that's disappointing. Honestly, they were written so long ago and my writing has really changed, (at least I think it has) that I've kind of lost touch with those stories. Right now I'm working on a bit of a side project but it has nothing to do with the Fallout Universe. Actually, it stems from the Netflix series Love, Death + Robots - specifically the title Shapeshifters. As someone who served in both military and law enforcement with knowledge of canine work in both these capacities I really wanted to play with the concept told in that short story. My plan is to hopefully get it published once complete. Or I'll just post it here someday.
Chapter 71
June 2277 – September 2277
The darkness had become his salvation. There, in its cold embrace, he could begin the arduous task of cleaning his wounds and changing his bandages. Every second of life felt like reliving his death. Nothing he did took away the pain, and he'd tried it all. Traders were almost generous to part with their precious medical supplies when they saw him and though he never had much to offer, seeing his twisted and tortured form brought on their pity and some even gave away their wares free of charge. If they'd known they were helping the Legion's Legate, maybe they would have just let him suffer.
In contrast, the light was a stark reminder of his failure and every moment he felt warm or a ray of sunlight, it seared his flesh and caused him agony. Some nights he wondered why he bothered to carry on but when he'd woken all those weeks ago at the bottom of the Grand Canyon, he knew some greater divinity had taken control of his life and he'd been granted a second chance for a reason. He'd just not been blessed with the reason for his salvation as of yet. To squander such a gift would be to spit in the very face of God.
There was only one place he could go that he thought might offer him safe haven and that was New Canaan, but the long and complex path was proving to be most onerous. To keep himself motivated, he often reflected on the Book of Exodus, in particular, of Moses and his mission to bring the Israelites out of Egypt and away from Pharaoh. When the Israelites began to doubt God's word and promises, he cursed them with forty years of wandering the desert until the unbelieving generation died off. Joshua would not doubt God, he would make it to New Canaan, and it would be his land of milk and honey as promised to those who remained faithful.
When his mind wasn't retelling bible verses, it was imagining what became of those he left behind, particularly, Aramis. Was she safe? Was she happy? Would she be able to move past what had happened and find joy in life? When Desert Dog died, she'd become a husk but that didn't last forever, and her grief faded over time. The scars healed and though she carried a reminder of him always, she did eventually allow herself to love again and while it filled him with joy that she may be able to do this once more, it also brought on great sadness that it would never be with him.
The trek to New Canaan usually took about two weeks at a moderate pace for many hours of the day but Joshua was in no condition to set a new land speed record. Because he could only travel at night, that meant there were many more hazards and he had to be extra cautious. Around any curve, any rock, any broken and rusted out vehicle there could be danger whether from an animal, human or even machine. Being hyper-vigilant was only one factor that kept him slow, the real hindrance was his physical condition. Joshua did his best to manage his wounds and while he was more adept at medical practices than most, he was not a doctor and despite his best efforts, his wounds blistered, cracked, and wept as he trudged along the I-15.
Once a week, a man by the name of Calvin came to the hospital to speak with Athos. This information-sharing session was usually in a private room and kept formal with very little idle conversation. It was during these sessions that Athos would learn what sort of developments were happening between the NCR and the Legion and often Calvin would ask what he thought the Legion might do in response to certain approaches the NCR took. Athos tried to make it clear that he was never the great tactician but that never seemed to quell Calvin's attempts to get as much insight as possible.
One day came when Calvin entered the room and Athos could see he was uncomfortable with the messages he was carrying. Calvin was usually a stoic mane but today he was sweating. Sure, it was summer, but the hospital had something called air conditioning that kept an ambient temperature. Calvin had stains under his arms and his brow was moist. Something's happened, Athos immediately thought.
"What is it?" he just about barked when they were finally alone.
Calvin tried to appear nonchalant, but Athos didn't have to be a Frumentarii to know something was awry. Calvin sat in a chair, something he never did, and Athos began to worry.
"For fuck's sake tell me what's going on!" he ordered.
"The Legate, Joshua Graham has been executed," Calvin blurted out.
"Come again?" Athos said, believing he had misheard. There was no way.
"Caesar had his Praetorians set him on fire before pushing him into the Grand Canyon," Calvin explained.
"No, that's not possible. That man is invincible. I've seen him take half a dozen bullets and come back stronger… and madder," Athos stated.
"I'm afraid it's true," Calvin insisted.
Athos leaned back in his wheelchair and suddenly his mind became a dizzying storm of concern. His initial reaction to learning of the passing of the Legate was anger. Anger that Caesar would resort to such brutality towards his War Chief but that wasn't really what angered him the more he thought about it. Over time he'd come to view Joshua as a friend, something they never really spoke openly about, but the truth of the matter was that as far as friendships in the Legion went, he and the Legate had one and now his friend was dead – add his body to the pile, Athos thought.
"When did this happen?" Athos asked.
"A few weeks ago. Were the two of you close?" Calvin asked.
"He was our Legatus," Athos replied vaguely.
"I'll take that as a yes," Calvin merely stated, and Athos shot him a cold stare and snapped,
"Take that however you want." He let out a sigh then brought his voice down. "I know that to those in the NCR and just about everywhere else, the Legate must have seemed like the worst kind of evil, and I'm not going to deny this assumption, but to the man's credit, he served Caesar for over thirty years and in that time, he became a self-made legend who was both feared and respected by all," Athos said and his eyes narrowed in on Calvin. "Would you not agree?"
"I never met the man," Calvin said in a somewhat dismissive way.
"How many times did reports come across your desk saying the Legate was dead?" Athos asked.
Calvin frowned.
"How many of your snipers were so sure they'd put the final bullet in him?" Athos went on.
"Well, I don't think he's coming back from this. Being lit on fire and pushed into the Grand Canyon isn't something you just get up and walk away from," Calvin stated as he folded his arms across his chest.
Athos let out another sigh before saying,
"You can all celebrate the death of your enemy, but today, I mourn the loss of a man." But then, another cold truth suddenly hit him like a slap to the face. Aramis. Fuck. Was she alright? "What about my sister?" he blurted out and Calvin raised a brow.
"What of her?" he asked.
"Is she alright?" Athos probed.
"Why wouldn't she be?"
"Her and the Legate were close and this would be… difficult for her," Athos clarified. He'd tried not to think of Aramis too much while he was here. He was still furious with her about her betrayals and without her here to explain herself, he'd drawn his own conclusions regarding her disloyalty that didn't exactly paint her as a sympathetic character in his narrative.
"As far as I know she's still at The Fort, but I will have my sources check in on her a bit more thoroughly," Calvin offered.
"No," Athos spoke out. "Forget it. If you say she's still at The Fort, then I assume she's doing okay," he said dismissively
Calvin raised a brow and asked,
"You're angry with her still?"
"Of course, I'm still angry!" Athos snapped back. "She gives away all our secrets… gets us blown up and then dumps me with my enemy only to leave me here while she goes back looking like a victim crawling out of the smoke?!"
"Is that what you think she's done?" Calvin asked.
"Are you my psychiatrist now?" Athos barked.
"How have your therapy session been going?" he inquired.
Athos let out a laugh before saying,
"Oh, you know, splendid. In group, I love sharing all the ways I used to torture and kill my fellow patient's brothers and sisters. How we would leave villages burning and pile the bodies of men, women, and children so high it would block out the sun," Athos contrived. Calvin just raised a brow. "You honestly think I've opened my mouth once in those sessions?" Athos spat.
"Yeah, maybe it's for the best if you keep those stories to yourself," he said evenly. "But I'm sure even one as thick as you can find a way to relate in some way. Maybe you'll want to share some things… but I agree that leaving out some particular details would be best."
"No shit," Athos mumbled and Calvin checked his watch.
"Well, I must be going. Same time next week then," Calvin said.
"Can't wait," Athos grumbled. "Keep the good news coming."
By late June, the Legion was still a long way away from recovery after their defeat at Hoover Dam, but Caesar wasn't wasting a single day. Raid after raid was sent out to the far regions of his territory and more bodies returned daily to fill the ranks of those lost. It would take months, maybe years to recoup the losses and with so many Centurions now dead, there was no way to make the process go any faster.
Caesar sought the promotion of Silus and Aurelius, two of Athos's former Decanii. With Lanius, Wendigo and Reed, this brought the total to five at the Fort. Brash was still in Flagstaff and Gaius Magnus in Dry Wells. There were a lot of new faces around The Fort and Aramis did her best to ignore most of them but that seemed impossible with Caesar's next move.
Ten more Frumentarii were added to her ranks, men she never asked for and men she didn't know. She had initially protested, and assured Caesar she would conduct thorough recruiting – with his permission of course but he denied this request and thus, these random men were added to her unit. Within a day, the already small and cramped Frumentarius tent became packed tighter than a tin of canned fish. The only positive was that Caesar allowed her to take over the adjacent tent so her men had more room. The men she had once personally selected were allowed to remain in their old tent while she put all the fresh faces in the new one.
If the added untested bodies to her ranks weren't irritating enough, Caesar selected who he wanted for each operation with very little consideration from her. At first, she took this personally, like he'd lost faith in her abilities entirely, but Caesar did this with every unit and she wasn't the only one who felt apprehensive about the sudden change. The Legion as a whole was transforming rather quickly.
To Aramis, it had always been a horde of merciless warriors but there had always been something in the men, like a subtle restraint brought on by years of bleeding together that kept them bonded to one another. In the past, the men had come to respect their brethren, share stories, and even form friendships. Now, it seemed as though everyone was in it for themselves, and Caesar of course. You couldn't look another man in the eye without being challenged on it. What really irritated the veterans was how the newer men would call them out on the loss at the first battle for the Hoover Dam. It was as though that particular defeat had cemented the veterans as failures and thus, unworthy of respect by the up a coming. With the absence of respect, the only tool left to use by anyone with any power to subjugate those lower than them was fear.
None of this would have happened if Joshua had still been alive. The Malpais Legate had often made himself visible to the men and this resulted in stability and order wherever he was. He kept everyone in line using fear, but he also had the respect of the men. Reed was set up to struggle from the start. Those who'd grown up with Reed, knew how instrumental he was in many raids and great battles valued him almost as much as Caesar, but the newer Legionaries didn't have that same loyalty. Reed was also known for not carrying out harsh punishments or inflicting pain on the men when they became unruly.
Because of this, there were more fights around The Fort, more men challenging each other for glory almost daily when before it was maybe once a month. Otho, who'd only recently come to The Fort but had been managing the arena back in Flagstaff was put to the task of managing anyone who wished to battle it out.
Not everything had become complete chaos as far as Aramis was concerned. There were still enough veterans with astute authority to keep things from going out of anyone's control. Daily operations were simply harder to manage than they had been before. Caesar had also appointed a new Legionary Instructor to oversee the training of youth captured in the local regions.
Strix, a former Decanus under Centurion Reed had been selected for the task. Over the years Strix had become well adept at training and Reed had relied heavily on him for getting new recruits up to par with the rest of the men. He was calm, clear-headed, fair but most importantly, motivational. His appointment came as no surprise to the rest of the men. Strix had also grown up under Lion in his youth and much of his training philosophy was adopted by the revered mentor. To appear more intimidating to the children, Strix wore his fine blonde hair in a kind of spiked mohawk and always kept his tinted sunglasses on. He rarely smiled and would often walk around camp with his arms folded across his chest. Only when training was done, and the children went to bed did he shed his apathetic façade and wind down with the men.
XXX
One day, a familiar face appeared in The Fort. He looked as though he'd been chewed up and spit out of the Mojave and perhaps most strange was the contraption not fitted to his face. Aramis had been walking between the War Tent and the mess when she saw him making his way through the main gate of Fortification Hill. She just about dropped all her papers when she saw him limping along as if he was merely returning from a stroll.
"Ulysses!" she called out and before she knew it, she was running towards him.
He turned, hearing his name and then Aramis was right in front of him. She looked him up and down before saying,
"You look awful."
"Don't feel too great either. Somehow, being in a nuclear detonation doesn't exactly feel too wonderful," he spoke in jest.
"How did you survive?" Aramis badgered. "We were certain you were dead. That whole place… I mean… we felt it from here."
"That's a long story. One with a lot of boring details, but the truth of the matter is that I've returned and from what I've heard coming out of the whispers of the wastes, I'm a little too late," he said.
Aramis felt her shoulders droop and her face turned sullen.
"You've heard?" she asked.
"It's all anyone is talking about from here to there," Ulysses said plainly. "How bad was it?"
"As bad as it could get," she answered him honestly. "But I'm glad you're back and that you're alright… mostly," she said with a weaning smile as she looked him up and down.
"Is it also true? About the Legate?" Ulysses asked and Aramis felt as though he'd punched her in the gut, but she kept her composure.
"Yeah," she said bluntly. "That's true too."
"I never would have thought Caesar would put a nail in that man's coffin," he said.
"Neither did I… but here we are," she answered.
"Has Caesar appointed a new Legate?"
"Not yet. Reed has been filling in for the time being but nothing official."
"And who is that?" Ulysses asked as he pointed over Aramis's shoulder. She turned and caught sight of the Colossus leaning against one of the tall hydro poles used as a brazier at night… when it wasn't holding up the body of some tortured soul. Aramis glowered.
"Centurion Lanius," she answered.
"I've heard of him," Ulysses said quietly. "He's more Yao Guai than man."
"So I've been told," Aramis agreed.
"I gather a lot has changed since I've been gone."
"A fair bit," Aramis affirmed.
"Is he just staring at us?" Ulysses asked. "I can't tell with that mask over his face."
"Give him a wave and see," Aramis taunted.
"Very funny," Ulysses jeered, and he looked back at Aramis. "Where shall I go?"
"Back to our tent. You'll soon find much has changed there as well. We lost Deegan a few months back near Boulder City. Rangers got him." she said with a frown.
"He was a good man," Ulysses said sombrely.
"He was," Aramis agreed, and suddenly she heard that voice in her head tell her that she was to blame for everything, and it took every bit of willpower she had to repress it. "Well, rest up. I will let Caesar know you've returned but don't be surprised if he wants to speak with you directly," she said as she backed away before he could catch on that she was trying to keep it together. Her hand began to shake so she tucked it into the space between her shoulder and chest armour to hide it. It was becoming more difficult to breathe and when she backed herself up behind a tent, she allowed herself to fall to her knees and gasp for air.
Keep it together you idiot, she told herself.
Her hands were shaking and the space around her blurred. She could feel her heart pounding in her chest, and it felt as though it would rip free at any moment and bounce across the sand.
"Commander," a deep voice called out to her and instantly Aramis felt overwhelmed with dread.
"I'm fine, Lanius," she barked as she tried to catch her breath.
"What are you doing?" he asked, his voice calm and filled with fake concern.
"I said I'm fine. Just a bit of chest pain," she said dismissively as she tried to get a grip on herself.
"A bit young for angina, don't you think?" he asked, his voice oozing with sardonic undertones.
"How about you mind your own fucking business?!" she snapped and finally she was able to get to her feet before turning and staring up into his face. She barely came to the man's chest, but she didn't care.
"No need to be so defensive. I just came to see if you were all right," he said simply and with that, he turned and walked away.
Aramis was still struggling to catch her breath, but anger had replaced the fear and she clenched her fist. She wasn't sure exactly what it was about Lanius she hated so much, but she knew she hated him. There was just something about him, something she couldn't place. He was loyal to Caesar, there was no doubt about that, but there was something else, something inherently foul that made the air around him noxious anywhere he stood. One thing was clear to her, she didn't trust him.
The only person Athos allowed himself to form any semblance of a rapport with was Camille and that was only because she was part of his plan to get better and walk out of this place. Aries adopted the opposite mentality and he spent just as much time hanging out with the other wounded troopers as he did with Athos.
"He's become somewhat of a therapy dog around here," Camille told him as she sat on his bed and offered to share half of her apple with him she'd brought for lunch.
Reluctantly, Athos accepted it, but he told himself it didn't mean they were friends. After three sessions, he'd had made improvements, enough that he was willing to keep going but after ten more sessions, he noticed he'd reached a plateau. He'd had yet to walk, hell he hadn't even wiggled his toes but some of the sensation was returning and despite the agony, he endured during the sessions. Camille constantly assured him by saying he was making great strides. After weeks Athos was finally able to have the catheter removed and void his own bowels. This achievement had brought tears to his eyes, but he was certain no one saw him.
"He's supposed to be my dog," Athos grumbled as he took a bite of an apple.
"Aren't you happy that he's helping the others? Charlie there can pet his head now without his hand shaking," Camille said. "Why don't you want him socializing with them?"
"Forget it," Athos grumbled.
"You married? Girlfriend… boyfriend?" Camille changed the subject and Athos wondered why she was trying to strike up a friendly conversation after all this time they'd been solely professional.
"Wife," Athos answered though he wasn't sure why.
"Really? All this time and you never mentioned her. Does she even know you're here?" Camille asked.
"She knows," he replied.
"Oh," Camille said like she regretted bringing up the subject.
"She's trying to get here," Athos clarified to disperse any thought that there was trouble between him and Seekra.
"Really?! That's great! I bet she'll be thrilled with your progress! We love it when partners are involved in the recovery process. It honestly can make a world of difference."
Athos just rolled his eyes and asked,
"What about you? Married?"
"Yup," Camille said with a smile. "Kyle… Kyle Monroe. He's a lieutenant posted somewhere in the Mojave. Do you know him?"
Athos shook his head
"He didn't know you either. Didn't help that I only know your first name. He said they rarely call each other by first names. Guess it's an army thing. He sent me a letter last week," Camille went on cheerfully and Athos found himself smiling seeing how happy she was to talk about her husband. It made him miss Seekra that much more.
One of the troopers began to make his way over by the use of a wheelchair. Athos figured he would cruise right on by, but he stopped at the edge of Athos's bed and with a smile asked,
"Poker night tonight if you care to join us. Ten dollar buy-in."
"Fuck off," Athos grumbled. As they all did after offering some invitation, the man shrugged and carried on to the next man with the same offer.
"Why do they keep asking me?" he grunted.
"Because I told them to," Camille said plainly, and Athos shot her a harsh glare. Camille sighed and carried on. "Do you want to leave this place without making any friends? We lump you all together in here so you can understand the struggles of your fellow soldiers. That whole brother and sister thing they play up. That way, each of you are a part of one another's recovery… kind of like having a vested interest in everyone's collective success. Makes you feel less alone, you know?"
"These people are not my friends, and they are not my brothers and sister," Athos growled, and he saw a deep frown on Camille's face.
"Why? Because none of them are Rangers?" she questioned. "Look, Leo, whether you like it or not, you are here with them, and everyone is just trying to get through each day with some hope of being a fraction of the person they once more."
Athos just grunted.
"Always so receptive," Camille taunted.
He'd made it. New Canaan. It took three months, but he made it.
In the darkness, the light of the town was like a beacon, summoning him to salvation and delivering him to his people. He walked to the main gate but rather than be greeted with the barrel of a gun, he was swallowed up by the arms of a man's embrace.
"Brother?! Are you okay?" the man asked, and Joshua didn't recognize his voice, but he collapsed into his arms nonetheless.
"Someone get the doctor!" Joshua heard the man yell. "This man is gravely injured!"
A minute later, Joshua saw Angela hurrying across the main square of the town.
"At this hour? What going on?" she asked she looked at Joshua but didn't recognize him straight away. "Who is he?" she asked as she gave him a quick examination as he leaned on the unknown man.
"No idea," the guard replied.
"Angela, it's me," Joshua groaned.
Angela's features twisted as she tried to make out his face and then it hit her.
"JOSHUA!" she screamed. "Bring him this way!" she ordered.
Within seconds he was on a proper exam bed in her modest clinic, and she was working at peeling away the layers of burned clothing that had seared to his flesh and the bandages he'd put on earlier that night.
"What happened to you?" she asked in a voice full of worry.
"Caesar," is all Joshua could say and a needle picked the skin of his elbow joint. It took her several attempts to get the IV started but eventually, she found a vein.
"This is bad Joshua… this is really bad," she said, and he detected all the concern she had for him.
"I know," he replied weakly.
"I didn't even recognize you," she said as she took a moist cloth and carefully began cleaning his face. Suddenly they were joined by a few others. Ty and another man Joshua recognized but didn't know. Ty took one look at Joshua and grimaced.
"When I heard you were back, I figured I'd come over here to lay in some insults… but maybe I'll hold off," Ty said like he was teasing a friend though they were far from being such.
"Is there anything I can do?" the other man offered. He looked to be about Joshua's age with a full beard and mustache. His blonde hair was receding but he still appeared youthful enough.
"Help me peel all this away, Jude," Angela ordered and the two of them got to work removing all the singed material. It took hours of delicate and careful work but when it was all gone, Angela allowed herself to let out a sigh. "Did you perform these escharotomies yourself?!" she inquired noting the places where Joshua had to cut long slits along his own seared flesh to relieve the constricting pressure at times.
"I did my best," Joshua replied weakly.
"It's what likely saved your life several times over," Angela affirmed. "Couldn't have been easy."
"Not really," he admitted.
Ty returned every hour or so to check on things and see if his wife needed anything. She always declined but he brought her water and snacks regardless. Joshua was conscious the entire time despite the number of sedatives Angela tried to pump him full of. The next task was to carefully clean and dress every burn properly. This took another few hours but when they were done, she slumped back against the wall of the clinic and wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her sleeve.
"How bad is it?" Joshua asked when he saw her examining her handy work.
"My work looks fantastic, you on the other hand look like the dead iguana we found dried up behind the radiator," she mocked with a faint smile. "The good news, if you can call it that, is that most of the severe burns were to your back and upper legs. Your chest isn't too great either. Your face is scarred but it's not disfiguring. Had you gotten to us sooner, I may have been able to graft a lot of it, but I'm not so sure now."
"Will I live?" he asked.
"If you were going to die, I suspected you would have died already. No, I think you'll live but… Jesus, Joshua it must be agony," he said with all the sympathy he knew she possessed.
"I'm alright," he told her.
"You know, I heard that back before the Earth was scorched, they used to use fish scales on burns to aid with the healing and prevent scars. I'll reach out to some of my colleagues and see if I can find anything on the subject. Who knows, maybe we can adopt something similar for the burn victim of the post-nuclear age," she said in mild and tasteful jest. "For now, I want to do a full-body X-Ray. I felt things that didn't feel right. Were you also beaten?" she asked.
"Fell down the Grand Canyon," Joshua said.
"My God," Angela said as she gently touched Joshua's hand.
"How are Athos and Aramis?" she asked, changing the subject.
Joshua frowned as much as his scarred face allowed him to.
"Oh no," Angela gasped, and she pulled her hand away to cover his mouth.
"They're alive," Joshua got out before she could be allowed to think the worst. "Athos was badly wounded a few months back but she's safe now and Aramis…" Joshua trailed off. He wondered if she really was all right.
Angela tilted her head to the side.
If Joshua could have cried, he may have at that moment, but his injuries left his tear ducts permanently damaged.
"Joshua… I'm so sorry," she offered as she touched his hand once more. It must have been obvious by now to her what Aramis had been all this time.
Joshua's lips quivered as he thought about her. On his journey here, his thoughts of her being strong and carrying on fueled his desire to live so that he may one day know that she was safe and happy, but those once optimistic thoughts now turned sour as he realized he'd live the remainder of his life without her. It was selfish and pathetic, he knew, but he couldn't help it. As punishment for his many sins, God had left Joshua mutilated but the greatest penance of all was keeping Aramis away from him.
The radio had become Athos's escape from this place and while it mostly spewed a lot of NCR propaganda, Athos was able to piece together some of what was happening in the world beyond the walls of the hospital. The woman's voice on the other end told stories of the brave women and men who were on the frontlines of the Mojave with obvious embellishments on their accomplishments but what Athos really found interesting was all the other goings-on in the NCR. He'd had no idea just how expansive their territory was and that if even a portion of what the woman was saying was true, it sounded as though it matched that of the Legion. He learned of places like The Hub, Redding, Arroyo, Dayglow and all the sub-factions of all the regions. To their credit, the NCR had quite the robust civilization, even if it was corrupt and disillusioned.
By now it was nearing the end of July and Athos had been making strides with his recovery, but nothing was happening as fast as he would like. Camille assured him it would take time but Athos was miserable here. He spent the most time in the strength and conditioning room using old weightlifting equipment to strengthen his upper body to pass the days. If he was going to be stuck in a chair until he could walk, he wasn't going to let the rest of him become weak.
While he lay on his back on the bench between sets of benchpress, someone came and stood directly behind him, blocking the light, and casting a shadow over his face. It was Camille, and she was smiling.
"We don't start our session for another hour. I figured I had time to get part of my workout in," Athos grumbled.
"Sure, if you want to keep working out that's fine, I just thought maybe you'd like to see her instead," Camille said, and she pointed towards the door of the room. Athos raised a brow and sat up and that's when he saw her.
"SEEKRA!" he just about screamed, and he heaved his body forward and crashed to the ground, but he didn't care. He righted himself right away, but she had her arms around him the next moment and was kissing him like she'd never kissed him before. Never had she held him so tight, and he realized he was holding and kissing her the same way. After a minute they pulled away and he found himself staring into her eyes, unable to look away for even a moment. His hands caressed her face, and he pressed his forehead to hers.
"I thought it was all a lie. I thought they'd never bring you to me," he said with tears in his eyes.
"It wasn't exactly a fast process but I'm here now," she whispered to him through her own soft whimpers of joy.
Eventually, they pulled themselves apart and he saw her scanning every part of his body, every scar, every atrophic muscle, and he found himself grimacing.
"It's not as bad as it looks," he assured her.
"They say you're not able to walk, but that you're improving every day," she said with a weak smile.
"It's a process," Athos said, adopting the words Camille said to him daily.
Seekra looked over her shoulder at the other woman and gave her a thoughtful smile.
"I can't imagine how much trouble he's given you," Seekra said with a chuckle.
"He's my favourite patient," Camille replied with a wide grin.
Seekra turned back and gave Athos another tender kiss and together, she and Camille assisted him into his wheelchair.
"So, what happens now?" Athos asked.
"You keep on with your physio. Your wife informed me that she has a bit of medical training from her time spent in one of the field hospitals in the Mojave. I offered her the chance to train under me while you continue your rehab," Camille said.
Athos was surprised by this development. He knew he and Seekra had to have a long and private conversation about whatever backstory they both had but for now, he just wanted to hold her for every waking second and he didn't care who was around for that.
"If that's what she wants," he said offering his wife a smile.
"I might be able to convert a small office for the two of you to have some privacy while you remain here," Camille added. This surprised Athos even further and he felt tremendous appreciation for everything Camille was doing despite his best attempts at sabotaging all of it with his shitty attitude. "I'll leave the two of you be and see what I can do. We'll cancel today's session so you can…"
"No," Athos cut in. "I still want to do my session with you… if that's alright," he asked.
Camille looked suddenly very thoughtful, and Athos saw a tear form in one of her eyes as the widest smile played across her face. She wiped the tear away the next moment and nodded.
"Of course," she said and then she was gone.
Athos embraced his wife once more still coming to grips that she was actually there, and he was actually holding her.
"I hear I'm supposed to call you Leo from now on," Seekra said when they moved slightly apart. "Wasn't that the name you gave to that spear thing you carried?" she asked.
Athos grinned and said,
"Yep."
"They said I could keep my name. Not sure why. Guess no one would really care too much about what happened to me, even if the truth was discovered," she told him.
"What's this about field hospitals?" Athos asked and Seekra smirked.
"That NCR officer… Tanis… he helped me with a believable back story," she said.
"That's the one Aramis was working with," Athos said and suddenly his voice took on a darker undertone.
"If it wasn't for Aramis, I wouldn't be here… and we wouldn't be free," she said poignantly.
"This is free?" Athos sneered.
"This is a dream come true," Seekra said, her voice stern. "For thirty years I was kept on a leash and made to believe I was less than nothing! Here I can be whatever I want to be… I can say whatever it is I want to say, speak to whomever I want, and I never have to check over my shoulder or fear that one wrong move, wrong turn would lead to my torture and crucifixion!"
Athos suddenly felt shame grip him. He'd never once thought about what it all meant to her because for the last thirty years, it had been all about him and what he could do for the Legion. He'd been her lifeline and now… yeah… she was free.
"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.
"Hate your sister all you want. Call her a traitor if it makes you happy, but for me, she's my saviour and I'm sorry… but I don't care that the others died for this. It was the least they could do after everything I've gone through!"
Athos pulled her in tight and felt the wetness of her tears on his neck.
"You're right… I'm sorry," he said, and he meant the words coming out of his mouth. "How is she? And Reed?" he asked and suddenly her face looked pained instead of angry.
"Not good," she admitted. "I mean… Reed is Reed… he's always keeping it together but Aramis… it's been tough. You heard about the Legate?" she asked.
"Yeah," Athos said.
"It was awful," Seekra murmured. "I wasn't there but I heard all about it. The Praetorians slathered him in pitch before Lucius set him ablaze… then they just threw him over the edge of the Grand Canyon and that was that," she said and more tears were forming in her eyes. "I know he was a complicated man… but… I liked him and he … he saved my life. Despite his many faults and atrocities, I like to think that deep down, he was a man with redeeming qualities who would one day stand up to Caesar and save us all."
Athos offered a reassuring smile. It was a nice thought and surely the Legate didn't deserve to be looked upon with such condemnation as the NCR had. Athos understood what Seekra thought and in many ways, he shared her views.
"His war is over," Athos said with compassion.
"His, yes, but not the war," Seekra went on. "Anyways… just about everyone was made to watch… and Aramis took it the worst though that's hardly a surprise. As always Reed is doing his best to keep her together but… I don't know Athos… she's losing everyone. Once Reed gets out, what's left for her?"
Athos let out a heavy sigh. He didn't have a solution. Seekra was right. Everyone around his sister was disappearing and soon she'd be left all alone. Maybe she'd bond more with the men of the Frumentarii but she'd never be able to be anything, but the Legionary known as Aramis. Then something, more like someone popped into his head.
"There is someone else," he said. "At least… I think there is."
"What do you mean?" Seekra asked.
"Tanis. That NCR officer you spoke of earlier. I think there's something going on between them. Maybe he's her out," Athos stated but Seekra looked more worried than relieved.
"Maybe," she started. "But I get the impression he's using her. You know what I mean? Like, he's more interested in what she's able to provide him than anything else. She's his direct link to Caesar. If he really cared about her, would he have sent her back?"
Athos sat back. He hadn't thought of that and suddenly he became suspicious of the Major's intentions.
"I didn't think of that," he said.
"Maybe you're right. I want to believe she has a chance at happiness and freedom as well, but… I just… I don't know… I guess we'll see," she said with a soft smile as she took his hand in hers. "But enough about that. Tell me all about your time here. I really like your physiologist."
"Camille? Yeah, she's been incredible," Athos said warmly. "Honestly, I'm not sure what you want to know. You were right in thinking I haven't been the easiest patient in this place," he admitted.
"Well, I'm here now… and you're not alone. Maybe it's time to swallow your pride and buy into whatever they are trying to do here? I'm not saying you have to be best friends with everyone, but at least let them help you," she tried.
Athos knew she was right. She was always right.
"They brought you here to me. If they asked me to lick the foot of every Ranger, I'd do it," he said with a smile and he kissed her one more time.
Dex had asked Aramis to meet him at the Vault 21 Hotel, but Aramis had responded that the Grub N' Gulp would be a better option. Dex had hoped she'd reconsider this request and that they'd be able to have a more personal encounter, but she insisted. When he arrived at the small rest stop, he saw her already seated at their usual table. It had been the first time they'd been face to face since she'd left Camp Forlorn Hope several months ago and she looked like a shell of her former self, and it reminded him of when he'd seen her in New Canaan after the death of her ex, Desert Dog. Much of the colour was drained from her face and her features appeared more sunken in. When her eyes scanned the scenery, they never really focused on anything in particular like she was just playing at being a living soul. Even when she saw him, it was like she was looking through him and her expression never wavered away from impassive.
"Is everything all right?" he asked as he sat at the table.
Aramis just leaned back in her chair and glanced away, like meeting his gaze just disappointed her more.
"Did Seekra make it?" was the first thing she asked. Maybe it wasn't the greeting he was hoping for, but he was happy to be able to give her some good news.
"She did. They are together at…"
"Don't tell me," Aramis cut in. "Don't tell me where they are. I can't know." Dex raised his brow. Aramis went on. "They're safe and they have each other. That's good enough for me," she said though Dex saw how much she struggled with this knowledge or lack thereof.
"Very well," he said. "How have you been?"
She gave him a look that suggested that was the dumbest thing he could have asked before saying,
"How do you think I'm doing?" But then her expression softened, and she let out a sigh. "Look, I'm sorry… I know I should be grateful for everything you've done for me so far and…"
Without thinking, he reached out his hand and placed it on top of hers and looked her clear in the eyes.
"It's okay," he assured her. In truth it did bother him that she'd kept her relationship with the Legate a secret from him all these years and as much as he wanted to question her about it, he knew now was not the time and if she was to continue working for the NCR - with him, he needed to be supportive of her, even if it meant being more sympathetic then he thought she deserved. "I'm here, what do you need?" he asked.
Aramis looked somewhat confused for a moment before dipping her head to avert his gaze and saying,
"Nothing. I'll be fine. I guess you want to know what Caesar is up to, right?" she asked, changing the subject entirely and withdrawing her hand away from his so it rested in her lap. Dex didn't answer but waited for her to continue. "Centurion Reed has taken over the duties of the Legate for the time being. While Caesar hasn't made the position official, everyone speculates Reed will be given the title," she said rather drearily. "Caesar has promoted a few more men to the rank of Centurion to fill the gaps in the higher ranks. Silus, Aurelius and Lanius. Silus and Aurelius you probably already remember were once Decanii under my brother but Lanius…" Aramis paused for a moment. "Lanius is something else entirely. Stories about are circulating and it's impossible to sort the myth from the man. Even I can't tell how much of his time in the Legion is a fabrication. What I can tell you is that the man is not like any other man of the Legion," she carried on and her tone became very serious. "He's... I don't know… there's just something about him I can't place. At least the rest of us have grown up together for the most part. We've bled together, shared meals and stories. Lanius acts like he doesn't want anything to do with the rest of us. Like he looks down at us, maybe even down on Caesar. He just performs his duties and that's it. At least the rest of us treat one another like family more or less. He looks at us and we feel… expendable."
"If the Rangers have a chance to take him out, they will," Dex assured her.
"Honestly, you won't get any protest from me about that," she admitted.
"So, no talks about another attempt on the dam?" he pressed.
"Nothing. It's all about regrouping and restructuring. A lot more activity is going on in the east, well away from the NCR's eyes."
"But Caesar does plan on making another attempt on the dam," Dex said more conclusive than questioning.
"No doubt," Aramis expressed. "There's something else I think you should know," Aramis went on. Now it was Dex who leaned back, and Aramis continued. "Caesar's been… different as of late. If you thought he was brutal and merciless before, he seems even more… callous. I think the loss of the Legate hardened him and unlike before, he's less trusting of his upper echelon. Before we conducted our affairs with more autonomy, now, it seems like he wants to control every single detail of how the Legion conducts itself from here on out. To make matters even more… tense, we've lost so many of our veterans and the pool of trust between the men has shrunk significantly," she explained.
"I'm not sure I follow," Dex asked for clarity.
"The people I've grown up with… the ones I trust… the ones who just knew how I conducted my business… they are just about gone. Caesar has implanted men in all the ranks who come from far-off lands or have never really been integrated into the ranks like those of us who grew up in the Legion. It makes conducting any kind of operation far more tricky. Even meeting here carries a much greater risk," she informed.
"Are you in any kind of danger?" he questioned. Aramis frowned and looked away before answering.
"It's hard to say, really," she expressed with folded arms across her chest.
Now it was Dex who wore a frown.
"You know I can't get you out, not yet," he told her more firmly than maybe he should have.
"I know that," she bit back. "I'm just warning you that… I may not be of use for much longer. Hell, I might not even be around," she said bitterly.
"You think Caesar is going to replace you?" Dex went on.
"I don't know," she said in exacerbation and Dex noted how her voice seemed sharper like it would crack at any moment.
This wasn't good news. The NCR would lose one of their significant advantages in the Legion if Aramis was replaced and while Dex was concerned for Aramis's safety, there was no question in his mind that the priority was keeping her in power and in favour with Caesar.
"I'll see if I can help in any way," he offered, and Aramis glared at him.
"You've done enough," she said in a flat one.
"The NCR can't risk having something happen to you," Dex declared.
"It's nice to know the NCR cares so deeply about my well-being," she said with vicious sarcasm.
"Aramis," Dex tried but Aramis just stood up.
"I'm sure you've gotten enough to keep your superiors happy," she began. "There's nothing more for us to discuss." And with that, she turned and began to walk away.
"Aramis wait," Dex called out, but she didn't turn back around, and she didn't come back.
