Three weeks later
Veronica hadn't expected the journey to find Boone to be so taxing. After all, the man had promised to be available to them upon their return from the hiatus that he had agreed to, and now he was so far down the Mojave's butt crack of a camp that Veronica was shocked she could get anybody to tell her where he was at all.
Luckily, his damned pride and his damned beret never seemed to leave his head. Made him easier to track, even though it was becoming increasingly clear that Boone didn't want to be found...
Veronica approached the giant wooden gate, surrounded by a junk fence that towered up as tall as a building. There was a greasy man in the tower off to the side who aimed his rifle down at her with almost comically shaking hands. He gestured wildly with it indistinctly when she didn't move. Rolling her eyes, she raised her hands. In any ordinary circumstance, Veronica would have played it off, made some kind of joke about hazard pay, but this was far from an ordinary circumstance.
"Hey, brahmin-brain, I'm unarmed! Are you stupid or are you just blind?"
"What the fuck do you want?" his craggly voice shouted out from atop his tower.
"I'm looking for an NCR sniper! Handsome guy, big shoulders, scowls a lot. Is he here?"
"Sniper works for us now, see? Best you skip off now or I might have to put a bullet in you."
"Should I take that as a yes?"
"Scamper along now, girlie, before someone gets hurt!"
"Look, pal, I'm not sure who you think you're talking about here, but if it's the same guy I'm talking about, I know he'll at least want to hear what I have to say! And he won't be happy to hear you've shot me!"
"Is that so? How do I know you're not lying?"
"Look, I'm a friend of a friend. Now, I've heard he was a guest here with your camp. Can I speak to him or not?"
Her business-like tone startled the man a little, who twitched when he raised his gun, and she saw that he was a tweaking fuck if she ever saw one.
Veronica's skin crawled. So that was what that smell was. These surface dwellers...
"Depends on your level of insurance, see?" the man from the tower cajoled down to her. "How much are you willing to pay?"
Veronica was tired, dammit, and just didn't have time for this. Veronica growled, reached into her pocket, flung some caps towards the wooden gate.
"Whatever! Fine! I'll pay whatever you want! I just need to get inside and talk to him! Are you going to help me or are we gonna stand here all day?"
"Fine!" the man squeaked down to her. "But I plan on collecting on your way back out or it'll be a short walk out of here!"
The man disappeared for a moment before reappearing, sneering. He lowered his gun onto the railing and then a loud roaring of gears forced the gate open just enough for her to squeeze through. Veronica jogged forward, sidled through.
There were various tents here, probably enough for fifty people, and a haze of a purplish smoke wafted through the air as if the gate and walls kept it in. Veronica coughed and gagged. Disgusting. She thought she'd be storming through a raider camp, but this was something different. They weren't ordinary raiders. They looked like a pre-war biker gang, and most of them were covered from head to toe in tattoos of all shapes and sizes. Most of them stopped what they were doing to looked up at her, glare, and the eerie, uncomfortable silence of their work made Veronica feel like the center of attention.
Just like someone came back home from a trip outside. It was a mixture of curiosity, resentment, and fear all wrapped into one.
"Tell you what?" the man called to her once she was through. "I'm feeling generous. You get an hour. I'll see you soon, dearie!"
"Whatever," Veronica snapped. "Where is he?"
"The red beret? In the tent just ahead. I'm sure he wouldn't want to be interrupted."
"I'm sure I don't give a fuck," Veronica whispered to herself, low enough so that nobody could hear.
An old woman wandered unsteadily close to her, made a hateful sort of noise, and brought out a pistol from the back of her pants, as if to say,
"Step off, bitch."
Deciding it best to keep her eyes down, Veronica huffed up to the tent in question and, without hesitating, forced her way through without pretense.
She noticed a few facts almost immediately. One, the room reeked of alcohol, something intense and concentrated, something that made Veronica's face and nose shoot back and her eyes water with rejection of the intensity. Two, the tent was filled with some kind of purplish gaseous substance that Veronica seriously hoped wasn't lethal. It reeked to high heaven of something entirely unnatural and manmade. Last, the set up was to be some kind of throne room, or at the very least a hotel or resting place for someone important.
Boone, or a man that she thought had to be Boone, was on the far side of the room, but the sight of him shocked her.
Boone's clothes were unkempt, disheveled, his white shirt, a v-neck that buttoned up a little at the top, sprawled open, his belt and pants undone, his mouth agape, the sounds Veronica recognized instantly. A red headed woman with barely any clothing on apart from an over-sized, button-up dress shirt, given how much the cheeks of her ass peeked out, bobbed up and down where his groin should have been in a sickeningly rhythmic and painfully obvious fashion. While Veronica couldn't really see anything, not really, she saw enough to understand that the red head's right hand and mouth were deep inside of the man's pant's.
It was a lot to take in at once. Too much.
Of all the places and in all of the ways Veronica had imagined their reunion, this was the last place and the last way she'd ever have expected - or wanted - to find the platonic, emotionless brute. He'd never even seemed to indicate that he wanted any woman apart from Juli, to whom he had shown only mild interest. Veronica had long since suspected that his interest in Juli was a veil to hide the intensity of his true feelings for her, but even then, Veronica had always assumed that his interested was entirely non-sexual. He didn't seem to want anything, to need anyone, least of all friends. That was what Veronica had suspected they'd left behind: a friend who was hurting too badly for his own good, too scared and too wounded to move from his spot as the people around him uncovered the security blanket of rage and disdain that he'd hidden behind for so long.
It hurt Juli over and over again, and, as Juli had come to confide in Veronica in these last few weeks, Veronica knew that Juli had come to internalize Boone's rejection of her advances in the friend department as some kind of personal failing. Veronica had brushed this aside, reassured her Chinese friend that Boone was too hurt to want anybody, that it wasn't her fault, that it wasn't her, that he was just a little tilted right now, that he was hurting the way she was hurting and that everybody dealt with pain differently. Boone had always seemed so cold and vicious, protected and off-limits by his own doing, and Veronica told Juli this - over and over.
He didn't want anybody or need anything. It didn't matter that they were women, didn't really matter who they were. Boone was locked away, closed off, safe in his little cage.
But here he was, opening up his legs, his security, completely vulnerable and completely exposed to a woman who Veronica wouldn't have suspected as being a day over seventeen.
Boone let out a groan of pleasure, bringing a hand to the red head's hair, as the wannabe whore from the ass end of nowhere gave him head.
A buzzing spun in her ears, made Veronica dizzy. Veronica thought of Juli as she stepped back, averted her eyes to the faded, stacked rugs on the floor. Her heart sank and rose at the same time, in one sense constricting her throat, in another, giving her strange nausea. It didn't seem fair.
Veronica had been wrong, and Juli was right. All this time, Veronica was wrong.
It shouldn't have been the thing that stuck with her, but some things were hard to shake from her upbringing.
Boone had needs. Needs Juli couldn't meet. Needs Juli couldn't meet because Boone didn't want her to.
Apparently, he wanted somebody else.
Part of Veronica was almost glad Juli wasn't here.
Almost.
Still, Boone's eyes were closed, his throaty sounds stopping just long enough to mutter, his voice groggy, "Get out," without opening his eyes.
Yup. He was definitely drunk.
The constricting in her throat went away, and breathless anticipation came next. She didn't have time for this. Neither of them did.
"Hey, ho-bag," Veronica snapped.
The girl's back ticked up. She swirled around to face Veronica, wiping her mouth as she did it, and, thankfully, blocking Veronica's view of Boone's exposed member. This got Boone's attention, but it was clear from the angle of the light behind Veronica that he couldn't make her out just yet.
"You heard him. Get out."
Veronica eyed the girl aggressively, feeling anger towards her that she knew probably wasn't fair. At the sound of her voice, Boone covered his eyes from the light of the tent opening with a hiss.
"What is it this time?" he slurred. "I told you I wasn't to be disturbed."
His lack of paranoia wasn't like him.
All of this was.
Veronica took a step further into the tent now, and the girl reached for a pistol from her feet, aimed it at Veronica.
But the girl was young, and there was anxiety in the whites of her eyes that was telling of her willingness to do the hard stuff. So Veronica glared her hardest glare, straightening up. Veronica's eyes were cold, and the surreality of the situation had sharpened her rage into something quick-witted and biting.
"You heard me," Veronica threatened the woman, crossing her arms. "Out. Now."
The red head smirked.
"Do you hear this bitch, sniper?"
Veronica didn't have time for this.
She reached into her holster, withdrew her energy weapon, and fired at the ground near the two of them, causing Boone to shift lazily, curse. The resounding blast of a laser echoed through the tent, and the red head lowered her weapon, her bluff so-called.
"I don't want to hurt anybody," Veronica seethed. "I'm just here to talk to him. So get out, now, before I get really bitchy."
This time, the red head didn't hesitate, scurrying up and out of the tent, stopping only once to scowl at Veronica and spit at her feet before dipping out. Boone protested, reaching out after the skank as she scurried off like a roach.
Veronica's heart pumped loudly in her chest - with anger, she now realized. The resounding silence fueled it, but it took her a moment to figure out why.
She'd just spent three days looking for him up and down the Mojave on an urgent mission because they needed him, and he was here, cum-dumping in the closest whore he could reach, wasting away without a care in the world.
This was the kind of place men went to die.
It clicked into place.
Boone had given up on them, given up on Juli, when she had never given up on him.
Veronica had never had time for self-pity.
Boone seemed to finally realize who she was and sat up faster now, buckling his pants, glancing over her shoulder, eyes pinched, worried. The motion might have even been subconscious, but he ran his hands through his hair now, which had grown a little longer in their absence, and wiped his face, which was covered in shadow.
Veronica noticed.
He missed her.
Funny way of showing it, Veronica thought to herself bitterly, wishing she could unsee what she had just seen, knowing she couldn't.
"You don't deserve her..." Veronica whispered with a strange concoction of hurt, disappointment, and bitter realization mixing in the saliva in her mouth to make it feel dry.
Boone pretended not to hear, but she knew he did by the way his expression winced in on itself, collapsing, as if in pain.
Juli deserved better than this, better than the man who fumbled with his belt buckle before her, struggling to make himself decent, struggling to get rid of a bulging hard-on, struggling to hide from Veronica the anxiety that Juli would find out or think less of him. Juli's good opinion, Veronica saw from his fumbling, was the only thing that mattered to him, which was very sad because he would deny it until the day he died if she asked him about it.
Didn't seem worth the trouble.
Veronica finally exploded, the words bubbling out of her.
"She's not here, so you can stop with the cheating husband routine!"
This caused Boone to stop, his eyes snapping to her. Her statement's implications seemed lost on him, or, again, he pretended it did, but something else took hold.
"What the fuck did you do to her?" he slurred.
The idea seemed to stick, and he took a sloppy step forward to swing at her. Veronica sidestepped him with almost comical slowness before moving in to land a fist directly into his stomach. Boone recovered quickly, grabbing her, but Veronica wasn't frightened.
"What the fuck did you do?" he shouted into her face, eyes wide, corners pinched, mouth taut.
"Relax, NCR," Veronica chastised, taking his hands on her arms and dropping them back to his sides like they were dirty napkins she didn't want near her. "I didn't do anything."
"Then where is she? Thought you two were joined at the hip. Or are you telling me you came to see me on your own?"
"Not really."
"Whatever. Shut the fuck up and tell me why you're here."
"Can't do both."
"Stop being a bitch. What do you want?"
"That depends on your answer. Why'd you make it so hard to find you?"
"What do you mean?" Boone asked, sounding very much like he knew exactly what she meant.
He moved about the tent, as if to straighten up. The motions seemed largely to distract himself.
"What was I supposed to do?" he growled to her, his back to her.
"Wait," was Veronica's reply.
"I did!" Boone shouted into the empty, darkened tent, stopping to half turn towards her. "I did wait!"
"You agreed to be ready when we needed you again, and you weren't. Don't get snappy with me. I just spent three days trying to find you!"
Boone made a bitter sound that was oh-so telling.
"Do you have any idea how long it's been?" he asked.
"A little more than six weeks," Veronica quipped, fully aware.
"So the bitches were counting..."
"I don't like your tone, NCR," Veronica snapped. "We've talked a lot about leaving you behind since we left you."
"Oh yeah? Over pillow talk and glasses of wine, gossiping about boys? Don't patronize me."
He continued to lift rugs around the tent to pile them up in a ritualistic fashion, which seemed a lot more like Boone than anything else he'd done so far.
"She felt bad about it, you know."
"Don't speak for her."
"She did. She missed you."
"You're lying!" Boone's voice growled out, taking on an edge.
"It's not a lie. You're very important to her."
And Veronica could tell, even if she had long since stopped prying about it, that Juli might have had a little crush on Boone. Juli held back because of some misguided feelings of inadequacy, and, Veronica suspected, because of Boone's wife, whoever that was, wherever she was. Juli was honorable about that sort of thing. She'd begun to blush at the advances of men since they'd begun to associate with caravans more often, but she never went to their bed rolls with them. She did seem to tolerate the attention more, and she did get attention. But it was good for her, Veronica thought. Good practice to talk. She suspected Boone hadn't been the best conversationalist, and sometimes pain needed variety to ease it back, needed flattery and flirting, which Juli had had plenty of exposure to in the last several weeks.
Still, if Veronica didn't already know that Juli had once had and then lost a baby, she would have assumed the girl was a virgin with how modest she was. Either she had changed drastically since her time then, or Juli was different than most women. She feared praise and attention almost as much as others feared never to receive it. Old fashioned. Traditional.
Kind of like the Brotherhood.
They argued about it sometimes, but Veronica loved it.
How crushed Juli would be now if she knew how Veronica had found their NCR sniper. Juli would hide it, of course, because that was what Juli did, and then she would forget, and then she would forgive. She was, all in all, a fair and good person.
But Veronica wasn't always.
"Look, what the fuck do you actually want?" Boone snapped. "Not to stroke my ego, obviously."
"No, I think you've had enough stroking for one day."
"Fuck off, bitch. You think I wanted you to see that?"
"Knock that disrespectful shit off, NCR!" Veronica snarled.
This wasn't like him either.
He was hiding now, hiding again like she knew he would, hiding like he knew how, behind his rage, but it was sharp because she had very nearly exposed something he obviously hadn't wanted her or Juli to ever see.
"She left me!" he finally shouted into the tent, as if the accusation had weight.
"She did no such thing," Veronica scolded, "and you know it. Besides, I thought you were the one big on the fact that nobody owed you anything."
Boone flipped around to look at her, but it was clear the alcohol gave his emotions intensity, not endurance. Hurt waved over his face from his eyes to his lips to his cheeks. It kept coming, and Veronica assumed that it was only because of how drunk he was that she was even allowed the glimpse of this slip-up of self control now. He stumbled back onto the chaise lounger, looking between his hands.
"She doesn't!" he protested, trying to convince them both.
"Then what's the big deal?"
"I...I can't take her at her word anymore!"
"And why is that?"
"She said she would be right back!" he ranted into his hands. "She said she needed a little bit of time, she said it wouldn't be long, and it's been six weeks without even a call or a word or a hint!"
He slouched into himself.
"Where was I supposed to go? I thought you were dead..." he admitted, throwing his lopsided head into his hands. "I thought she was dead."
"So this is how you cope? Whores and drinking?"
Veronica took an empty bottle from the spot beside him and tossed it aside. Boone glanced up at her now, a very different emotion playing out on his face.
Guilt.
"What I do with my time is none of your business," Boone defended half-heartedly, but it was clear even he didn't believe it.
"It is when we needed you and you drop the ball."
He looked up at her, clearly confused.
"What?"
"Didn't you hear me? Get your head out of your ass. I've been looking for you for three days, rushing all over the Mojave to find you."
Boone leaned back, making a bitter scoffing sort of sound.
"What are you, her messenger now or something?"
"Are you really going to act like this?"
"Look, Brotherhood, I'm drunk, and I don't give a fuck about you or whatever you have to say."
Clearly, he was really convinced by this fact because he swallowed back tears that had budded on his eyes.
Damn, the man was hurting, really hurting. It was all raw on his face, deep in the tension in his voice. She had never seen him like this before.
"I'm happy," he lied, but what she heard was,
"Let me die here."
Time to pivot, she thought.
"You don't belong here," Veronica tried again, gentler this time.
He laughed. It was a painful sound.
"I don't belong anywhere."
"You belong back with us."
"Sure I do. That's why you dumped me off and left me to die wherever it pleased you. Did she - did you even care?"
"You weren't gonna die," Veronica sighed out, rolling her eyes.
"For all you knew, I could have been dead!"
"I think I liked you better when you had less to say," Veronica quipped. "Not that it matters. You need to come with me."
"You're not even listening! Why should I? She left me!"
"And now because of it Juli is in trouble and she needs you!"
He furrowed his brow. She heard him hold his breath, then let it out, shaky.
"What do you mean she needs me?"
There was dangerous hope in his eyes, in the way his back ticked forward.
"She's your friend, and you are hers. Whether you want to admit it out loud or not."
This pleased him, but he fought, and failed, to hide it as he sat back.
"But she's..."
Slowly, he seemed to catch on.
"Where is she?" he asked, looking around as if she would appear at any moment.
"Near Sloan."
Then, another thing seemed to dawn on him as the color drained out of his face, as he whispered,
"Sloan...Jesus Christ, Veronica!"
"We didn't know! It was an accident!"
"How could you not know?"
"We were with a caravan when a group of raiders hit us! A group of them splintered us off from the rest, but we knew to regroup further up closer to Freeside. We were running, it was dark. I - I don't know! It just happened!"
Boone's attitude dropped at the tension in her voice, as Veronica struggled to swallow back tears.
"We were running and then the whole ground shook."
Veronica shuddered.
"Death claws. More than I've ever seen, bigger than I've ever seen."
"What happened?" he ground out, alert now.
"Juli and I ran when we realized where we'd ended up. They rushed out of the ground. Must have been a nest. We got separated. I headed south, and she headed west towards this old oil rig. They have it surrounded and nobody can get close enough to get her down. She found a radio near the tower and she's in what looks like might have been a repairman's nest, but she said she was hurt pretty bad."
Veronica's face was pale now, and her hands shook. She felt weak in the knees, and tears were in her eyes.
"When was this?"
"Three days ago."
She looked up at Boone, and he looked deathly pale now, eyes wide, breathing labored.
"What am I supposed to do?" he cried out in dismay, nearly yelling it into his hands, as if they were responsible for failing him. "I can't fight death claws! What did you expect? You wasted a lot of time to tell me she's dead!"
"She's not dead - yet. And she told me you were a good shot. She also told me she was gonna hang on until I came back with you, and that is exactly what I intend to do."
Boone's mouth turned into a thin line.
"Look, Boone, I know you don't like me. Fine. But right now, she needs you, and she's asking. I hope that's enough."
"Of course that's enough..." he muttered, to her surprise.
But still, Boone hesitated, looked unsure.
"What about the NCR?" Boone growled out. "Maybe they could reach Sloan faster than we can."
"They said they wouldn't be able to spare any men for just one woman, they..."
"What?"
"They recommended we shoot her down, make it quick. She's probably bleeding out up there."
Veronica leaned forward, supplication in her voice.
"It has to be you. Please."
His expression changed then, hardened.
He looked like the man she met all those weeks ago now, and he hiked up his ruck, his rifle.
"Let's go," he growled out, and with that, she followed him out of the tent.
Their journey back was only a few hours, and the glances they got on their way out hardly affected Veronica. She was preoccupied with the status of her friend, who she wasn't sure had even made it this long. She tried not to think like that, but bad news was common and regular and expected.
Boone looked at her sidelong every now and then, and it seemed as the sun grew long in the sky, so too did her patience thin.
"What is it?" she finally snapped at him.
"About the tent..."
Oh, but she'd been expecting this.
"You don't want me to tell Juli how I found you."
Boone's breathing became labored, and she scowled forwards.
"I'd prefer that, yeah."
"I'm sure."
"I thought you were dead," he tried to explain.
His voice sounded small, worried.
"What does it matter? You're a free man. You do as you please. Or who you please, I guess, though I would have thought your physical appetites would be a bit more...refined."
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him squeezing his weapon, obviously uncomfortable.
"Look, I'm not proud of it," Boone finally managed. "This morning, I was...look, I was drunk off my ass. I had been since...I don't know. I was just trying to feel better. I barely even know that girl. It didn't mean anything."
"Sure it didn't."
Boone stopped, and so did she. He looked at her gravely.
"It didn't," he stated again, his voice more serious than she had ever heard it.
"I don't know why you're telling me this," Veronica snapped, shrugging.
Boone looked away now, his expression inscrutable behind his newly donned aviator sunglasses. He wasn't going to say it was because he might maybe slightly sort of have a little bit of a crush on Juli too.
Veronica sighed.
Fucking amateurs.
"Just wanted you to know, I guess," Boone finally quipped back.
"None of my business."
"I don't want you to give Juli some impression of something that wasn't happening."
"Oh, I saw exactly what was happening, NCR," Veronica snapped. "No need to explain that to me."
Boone grunted now, huffed forward.
"Look, what do you want me to say? That I was getting a blow job from some whore where raiders make drugs? Fine! But I don't need to feel guilty about it, and I certainly don't need your attitude!"
Veronica stopped so quickly that Boone ran into her. Veronica shoved him back, snarling,
"You made yourself hard to find so that we couldn't find you out of some pathetic attempt to get back at us when all she has done is be up front with you! So she needed time because she was embarrassed? Fine! So she told you about her baby? So what? It's her business, and her feelings, and she gets to have those! That doesn't give you an excuse to act like a little baby, and it certainly doesn't justify any of the misguided, misplaced rage you've seemed to direct at her!"
"Misguided? She left me because she didn't want me around anymore!"
"She left you because she did want you around for a long, long time!" Veronica shouted back. "She needed some time to make sure you guys were on track, and she worried about you all the time! She talked about you every day! So don't tell me to let go what happened in the tent because while she was fighting every day to make sure you guys would still be okay when you got back together, you were wasting away in some fucked up drug den trying to get high enough to forget her! Don't fucking ask me to be quiet about it because if she dies today, or if she's dead already, that's on you! Got it?"
Boone opened his mouth, closed it, opened his mouth, closed it again.
"Look, I'm sorry."
"You do that. Apologize. I'm sure it'll be a big consolation to her knowing that it took so long to find you since your were inches deep inside some red head's pussy."
"Shut the fuck up."
She did.
The trip back wasn't any more pleasant after that.
They arrived in Sloan right as the sun was illuminating the sky into an orange-pink haze and they were greeted by a small, friendly group of strangers, the size of which intimidated Boone. It wasn't often you saw big groups anymore, but this seemed to be the largest he'd ever seen in a good long while outside of New Vegas. Through the crowd, a tall, blonde haired man with glasses, a clean face, and striking eyes emerged through the dirty faces to greet Veronica, as if he knew her.
"Good, you're here. I just got off the radio with her."
The man's voice, too, was smooth, rich. He had an accent, Boone thought, but he wasn't sure where it was from.
He reached out and hugged Veronica, and the two gripped each other, obviously shaken by the ordeal, obviously friendly. Her boyfriend? No, the hug was too friendly. Her brother? Possibly. He did have the glasses to back that up, and he looked awfully clean. The hug lingered, nevertheless, and the shared friendly intimacy between them made Boone uncomfortable. He looked away, thought of Juli, wondered where she was. At least, until the man turned with a weary smile to look at Boone.
Boone felt sized up, even though the man's smile never wavered. He had a flashy smile about him.
"You're Craig Boone, yes?"
"Who's asking?" Boone asked, narrowing his eyes.
"Gannon," the man replied, thrusting out his hand, which Boone reluctantly took. "Arcade Gannon. Yes, I know, the name's a bit strange, blah blah blah, skip the introductions. Now on to the good stuff. Can you shoot?"
"Yes."
Gannon smiled again, glanced at Veronica, let go of Boone's hand.
"I like him," he told her, "but don't tell Juli I said that."
The man knew Juli?
Boone's eyes sharpened. He hadn't slept in a long time, and he was feeling a bit hungover from his drinking when Veronica had found him fifteen hours prior. Still, with that one comment, he felt his senses sharpen, something in his abdomen twist and recoil.
"How did you meet her?" Boone asked.
"Outside of Freeside," the man answered. "Maybe a week ago. She's been doing enough work for a right dandy band of do-gooders, so I figured I'd head out here to help with all this commotion. She's been good to me too, after all."
"What do you mean?" Boone snapped.
Something alive and angry moved around inside of him that Boone was frustrated to learn was jealousy. So she did want a man, just not him? Or maybe a friend, and it just wasn't him? Or maybe it was that she just didn't want him.
He felt all turned around.
He'd fucked this all up. He'd been gone for too long. It was over. What they had was over. It would never come back. Now there were all these messy people in the way.
"Can we talk to her?" Veronica interrupted.
She looked at Boone, her features softening for the first time since she'd read him his rights.
"She'll be glad you're here," she told him.
Boone wasn't so sure. Seeing all the meaningful relationships she'd developed during his absence made him feel insecure and child-like in a way that he couldn't understand. He'd hidden away to die. She was surrounded by people who were involved in her rescue. What did that say about him? About her?
"We should talk to her now," his mouth provided, nonetheless, eager to hear that she was really okay with his own ears.
"Oh, yeah," Arcade said. "Right. Come on."
They rushed past the crowd into a small, dark shack, which was just a little room. A single table, a chair, and a radio sat in the center of the room, and Veronica rushed forward, gripped the wire and the handset.
"Hey Juli..." she managed. "Still there? I'm back."
There wasn't anything for a long time. Boone held his breath, felt light headed. His palms were sweating. He felt it in the nape of his neck, the small of his back. He'd dreamt of her voice every night since he'd left, and in the rush of a moment, Boone realized, God, he'd really missed her.
If she died now...
There were so many things he'd promised to say, swore he would say.
"Can you hear me?" Veronica squeaked out, doubt in her voice.
"...V?"
Boone closed his eyes, exhaled loudly with the rest of the room.
"Did you find him?" her voice crackled.
Veronica looked up at Boone, her eyes eager and urgent, as she thrust the receiver into his hands, yanking him over to sit in the seat.
"Say something!" Veronica whispered through gritted teeth.
"Uh...h-hey, Ren," Boone tried, wishing he sounded taller, more manly.
Maybe a little more blonde with glasses.
He was very aware of the man standing in the doorway with Veronica at his back, burning holes through his clothing.
There wasn't any response.
"Can you hear me?" he croaked out, eyes closed.
The high-pitched sounds she made on the other end intensified, and he heard heavy, labored breathing. Boone pressed the receiver to his forehead, thanking whatever was out there that she was still alive.
"You're here..." he heard her whisper, like it was a surprise.
Dammit, she sounded weak.
"Of course I'm here. I told you I'd be here when you needed me to be."
"Took you a while," she remarked, but there wasn't any anger in it.
But Veronica was angry enough for both of them, and he crumpled into himself, feeling disgusted with himself.
"I was...far away."
"You'll have to...tell me all about it..."
She cried harder.
"There's...things I want to tell-"
He couldn't breathe, but this was a goodbye.
"Not yet," Boone cut her off.
"Craig, I-"
"I'm coming down to get you," he informed her, feeling the cold sweat seep out of him, making him shudder.
"Xietian xiedi!" he heard her breathe.
Boone clutched the receiver. He'd heard her say that before.
Thank God.
"Boone..."
He hesitated, not trusting his voice. He was moved by her trust in him.
"You still there?"
He finally put his finger on the button, trying to harden his voice.
"Yeah..." he managed.
"I missed you," she offered abruptly.
Her voice sounded crackly, but high pitched, ragged.
She was crying.
Boone's insides were splitting in two.
"Hey, don't say stuff like that, alright?" he whispered, leaning into the receiver desperately. "Don't make me come up there and kick your ass."
He heard her laugh, but then cry out in pain. He winced, held his breath.
"I'm gonna come help you, okay? But that means you just have to hang on for a little longer. Can you do that for me?"
"Hurry..." was all she said, and she'd obviously put the receiver down because it was silent after that.
Boone rounded on the other two, who were wiping their eyes. No time for that.
"Tell me where I need to go."
"You sure you can do this?" the man Gannon asked, raising an eyebrow.
This riled Boone up.
"I will not fail her."
The two of them watched Boone for a long moment before turning on their heels.
"Alright," Arcade said, nodding, "follow me. The edge of the ravine is this way."