I was thinking about her skin
Love is a many splintered thing
Don't be afraid now
Just walk on in

Chapter Four: "Under the Gun"

Joshua crossed his arms as he stared, eyeing the abandoned campsite with growing intrigue. A small fire pit, half-emerging from the Utah earth, and a few items scattered around it. He dropped to a crouch and picked up a discarded piece of burlap. The coarse material was coated in a thick, yellowish powder and he dragged his finger through it, bringing it to his nose. Through the material of his bandages, he was able to pick up the pungent mix of Broc Flower and Xander Root. His brows knit together as he idly crumbled the material in his palm, letting it fall back to the ground after a few moments.

Healing powder.

He didn't want to jump to conclusions, as healing powder was a common (yet crude) poultice often crafted by vagabonds and people who had no other access to medicine. It didn't require much skill or thought to make, either. It was simply two dehydrated plants crushed into a fine powder and consumed by adding it to water.

But he hadn't seen healing powder since his days in the Legion. The Dead Horses used their own brand of medicinal herbs and that coupled with Daniel's training in modern medicine made the need for healing powder obsolete.

He entertained the idea of Legion skulking around Utah. It wasn't too farfetched, seeing as the White Legs had recently been obliterated. And since Edward had been trying to recruit them, he probably sent a squad to investigate after learning of their extermination.

Was that necessary? Joshua frowned slightly. Edward was a smart man. He had cajoled the White Legs into attempting to massacre the Dead Horses and the Sorrows as a rite of passage into the ranks of the Legion. Edward knew Joshua was here, alive. So why else would he send a group of Legionaries to investigate the White Legs' loss? Surely he acknowledged that it was Joshua who was the source of it. And, more importantly, were his soldiers so poorly trained that leaving behind evidence of their presence wasn't an issue?

Unless it was meant to be left behind. This was a common route for patrol and Dead Horses scouts often used it for hunting. It would be an odd tactic, that was certain, but perhaps the Legion wanted to let Joshua know in a subtle way that he was being monitored. Subtlety was not Edward's forte, though. His eyes traveled back to the campsite.

Were Legion soldiers still in Utah? The campsite had been abandoned recently, probably within the last week, seeing as how the items were still intact and not dissolved by the Zion rains. The last time it rained was the day before the Courier's departure. He had asked her to remain in Zion until the monsoon rains had passed.

But if the items were dry, that meant that they had been left sometime after the storm.

Then it clicked. They hadn't been here for Joshua.

"Graham?" Someone called for him.

Without turning, Joshua gestured to the campsite. "Daniel, take a look at this."

Daniel flanked Joshua and peered over his shoulder, a soft sound emanating from the back of his throat. "An abandoned campsite?"

"Legion," Joshua grunted as he stood. "I found healing powder."

"Legion?" Daniel sounded confused, but Joshua could denote a hint of fear in the tone of his voice. "Why were they here? Something to do with the White Legs?"

"I thought so too, at first," Joshua hummed as he kicked some dirt over the remnants of the fire pit, watching the dirt swallow up charred branches and foliage. "But I have a suspicion that they were after our little Courier."

There was a pause.

"Avery?" Daniel inquired, concernedly.

Joshua felt a twinge in his chest at the mention of her name and he stilled, his eyes staring off, unfocused. It was odd to hear her name spoken aloud. She had only been gone for two weeks but it felt like eons. Her absence left a prominent hole in his existence and he abhorred it with every fiber of his being. God brought her to him only to take her away and he realized, with certainty, it was his penance. He had committed so many atrocities in his lifetime and he had to accept that this old man was no longer allowed happiness… it would forever be his humbling punishment, a part of his life that he must sacrifice to God.

"I wonder what they want with her," Daniel mused aloud. Then his tone darkened an imperceptible amount and he reflexively rested a light hand upon Joshua's bicep. "Graham, she had no escorts when she left. She was alone. What if…" he trailed off.

What if Legion ambushed her? What if her small body was currently rotting in a precipice with nature reclaiming her to the soil? He pictured her thin neck split open, her blood spilled in reckless violence, her honey-colored eyes wide and forever unseeing. He knew Legionaries, and he pictured them taking her in her last moments, bruising her olive skin and nipping at her like starved mongrels. He shook his head to banish those awful thoughts as something twisted in his gut.

"She's strong," Joshua said quickly. "She can handle a few Legionaries."

"How can you say that with such... blind confidence?"

Joshua turned his steely gaze onto his companion, "I know her and I believe in her. You should, too."

"I don't doubt Avery's strength," Daniel replied slowly as he removed his hand from Joshua's arm. "But I am worried that she has been harmed because she would be easily outnumbered. A Legion tail is no small issue, Graham, and I think you are trivializing the danger she is in."

"There's not much we can do, Daniel." Joshua hung his head a bit lower, his eyes traveling to the jagged horizon of Zion's mountains.

"Well I, for one, cannot be so complacent," Daniel let out a huff. "I'm going to send Waking Cloud through the Southern Passage."

"Why?" Joshua asked, impassive.

"To see if there are any signs of a struggle or that a fight ensued," Daniel shuffled from one foot to the other and crossed his arms over his chest. "She sacrificed three months of her life to aid us. She put herself in harm's way, even got herself seriously injured, all to help us protect our home. I think we at least owe her this."

Joshua was quiet for a long while as he mulled over Daniel's words.

Daniel was unaware of Joshua's internal battle. He fought the urge to cut a bloody swath through the Mojave just to find her, to ensure that she was safe and that she hadn't succumb to the Legion. God help him, he wanted to kill anyone who even think to harm her. But he had a tribe to lead and he could no longer afford to go cavorting through the desert.

"Bring a few Dead Horses scouts," Joshua said with finality, still refusing to look at his friend.

"Safety in numbers," Daniel breathed through his nose. "I'll send out a scouting party first thing in the morning."

"Very well."

Daniel went to turn but he paused momentarily, throwing a concerned look back to his stoic comrade. "I'm sure she's fine, Graham. We're just bearing on the side of caution."

Joshua said nothing but threw Daniel a solemn nod. There were a few beats of silence before Daniel disappeared and, giving the campsite one final glance, Joshua followed him into the canyon.

Entering the Lucky 38 with her current intentions was… unsettling.

At one point she had walked into the giant steel metropolis of sin and vice with hope, with more optimism than even the happiest of Wastelanders. But then she realized that House was nothing more than just another false prophet that had lead her astray. House was power-hungry and detested any real progress. As much as she wanted to believe that House as a decent person or… computer program, rather, she just had to merely look at the facts.

She knew what she had to do for the betterment of New Vegas.

She lazily waved at Victor with a forced smile as she passed the threshold of the casino. Per standard, Victor was to escort her the entire way. He lolled alongside her, his mechanics whirring and humming as they went. He hadn't said a word since he gave her his usual greeting, but she was fine with that. She was never able to trust Victor as far as she could throw him, even though he had been the one to rescue her from her desert grave.

It took her a while (longer than she'd like to admit) to realize that Victor had only saved her because she was a tool to be utilized by House… someone to play fetch and retrieve that damned Platinum Chip. And since House was rooted to the confines of the Lucky 38, he needed someone to do his dirty work. That someone just so happened to be the hundred pounds of titanium and wiring currently opening the lift doors for her.

Avery lingered at the opening for the elevator, eyeing the other Securitrons posted on either side of her. Would she really be able to pull this off quietly and without incurring the wrath of House's overgrown calculators? Calculators with Gatling lasers. She swallowed and stepped into the elevator.

The tiny box was eerily quiet, save for Victor's internal processors droning and the dull squeal of the elevator's bereft pulley system. She watched the small, weathered numbers above the elevator doors with growing anticipation. They passed the floor that harbored the hotel rooms gifted to her by House out of solidarity. She remembered the first night her and Boone slept in those grandiose rooms and felt a sad smile tug at her lips.

Just as she was beginning to reminisce about simpler times, the elevator dinged and she froze as the doors slid open.

"Home sweet home, eh?" Victor drawled behind her.

She almost jumped out of her skin at the sudden break in silence. Instead, she turned around and forced a laugh, "Yep!"

Victor's heavy titanium arm gestured for her to step out first and she obliged, her boots squeaking against the linoleum. He took his post next to the elevator and she walked towards the stairs, trying to ignore Jane's perky acknowledgment of her arrival. She just gave the robot call-girl a slight nod and continued down the stairs. As soon as she reached the bottom of the decline she rooted around her bag for her Stealth Boy. She gave a few quick glances to make sure she was out of sight from any of the Securitrons. Luckily, she was tucked away in a long-forgotten corner of the penthouse, hidden behind a rickety bookcase and fancy perched globe.

Her heart began to thump wildly against her ribcage as her index finger ghosted over the activation button for the Stealth Boy. This was risky. This was incredibly risky and oh, how was she just now realizing how dangerous this was? With a trembling sigh she let her head fall against the wall behind her, the cool tile feeling nice against her scalp. Well, it was either do this now and save New Vegas or admit to The King and everyone else in Freeside that she wimped out… and by wimping out, she thereby surrendered New Vegas to this oligarch.

With one final, shaky breath, she pressed the activation button. There was a low whistle as the stealth field was activated around her. She dropped to a crouch and began to creep towards the small terminal located in the back of the penthouse. The journey was slow, torturously so. She snuck along the wall, making sure to pause every so often if one of the Securitrons began to grow suspicious.

Then she saw it, the terminal's flickering screen like a beacon in the darkness. Avery slowly shuffled out from beneath another staircase and stopped, realizing she was adjacent from House's projector. She stood for a moment and gazed up at the large, vacant screen where an image of his likeness often lingered. Then, with as much feeling as she could muster, she brought her invisible fingers to eye level and flipped him off. Sure, it was immature but damn did it feel good.

After a few moments she dropped back into a crouch and moved towards the terminal. She pressed the power button and the terminal blossomed open like a flower, its home screen displayed in dim green print. There was only one option: open the antechamber. She hit enter and was presented with a locked screen. She silently praised Yes Man for handing over the password and entered it into the console, watching as the wall dislodged with a hiss.

Uh oh, that was loud.

She stiffened and readied herself for alarms and sirens to blare, for Victor to appear around the corner with Gatling lasers blazing. But it never happened. She looked around curiously, watching as a few Securitrons wheeled by, clueless. She shrugged and moved forward into a hallway separate from the penthouse. There was another elevator, its rusty doors sealed tight, and a terminal similar to the one in the penthouse. Yes Man didn't say there'd be another terminal… did that mean that a separate password was necessary? She felt her stress levels spike.

The doors closed behind her and she paced over to the terminal. To her relief, it didn't require another password. It must be synced up with the one in the penthouse, she thought idly. She hit enter and the elevator doors creaked open and she descended into the control room. As the elevator hummed to life, she felt her pulse quicken and her palms sweat.

The elevator skittered to a halt and she lurched forward from the force of it, trying to catch herself on anything as she fell. But the elevator doors had already opened and she found herself stumbling into a dim, silent chasm. She steadied herself and looked around, her eyes adjusting to the darkness. Before her awaited a long, desolate steel pathway. It was lined with flimsy steel bars and faint orange bulbs. Above her was a maze of twisted pipes and walkways. By instinct, she began to move forward.

As she grew closer she was able to discern what awaited her at the end of the path. Large, complicated looking machines were stacked a few yards high and wide along the wall. There was a pod in the center of it all and it glowed gently in the stillness of the room. A few feet away was another terminal and she powered it on, watching the loading screen spark to life.

There was a singular option:

Unseal LS Chamber?

She hit enter and another question popped up.

Warning! Microbial Infection Risk. Proceed?

Her cursor hovered over that query and she paused.

This was it. Somewhere buried within that pod was House.

Was she ready? She swallowed and with an air of finality she hit enter.

The pod, once dormant, hissed to life as the locks dislodged from the outer casing. The lid rose and a billow of liquid nitrogen wept from its metal ossuary and lofted along the floor. A metal gurney catapulted from the pod and erected itself. The sight before her made her mouth go dry and her limbs suddenly felt cold. There, strapped to the gurney, was House. Or… what was left of him.

He resembled more of a ghoul than anything, his jaundiced skin pulled taught over his bones. His face was gaunt and his cheeks hollow, his eyes buried somewhere deep within their sockets. Long, wispy silver hairs sprouted from his head and cascaded in thin tendrils down his shoulders. His facial hair was wild and haggard, his mouth shielded behind centuries of unkempt tresses. He looked… horrible. Weak. Fragile. She felt that if she reached out and touched him that he would shatter into a thousand pieces. This was not a powerful oligarch, this was an emaciated shell of a human.

Despite herself, she felt pity for him.

House's body shook violently as his head rolled side to side, searching. She realized that, to him, she was still indiscernible behind a reflective shield. She deactivated the Stealth Boy and watched as his expression went from one of perplexity to raw, unabashed betrayal.

"Why have you… done… this? Centuries of preparation… so much good, undone…"

"It's just business," she lied easily, hoping her voice wouldn't betray the tremulous swirl of doubt in her chest. "It's over, House."

He took a painful, phlegm-laden breath, his voice guttural and rough from years of disuse. "If personal gain… what you sought… should've done… as asked."

Her hand trembled as she pressed the barrel of her .22 silenced pistol against House's temple. He shuddered and shook beneath her, his yellow-tinted eyes staring up at her with confusion and pain. She hesitated.

"How about," she started, her voice soft and affable as she spoke, her finger hovering over the trigger, "I let you live… but you won't be able to control anything?"

At this, he began to convulse violently. "No! Don't disable… cerebral… I'd rather be… killed," his distress was palpable as he struggled. "Kill…me…"

"See you on the other side."

She squeezed the trigger and watched as House's head snapped to the side from the force. Deep streams of crimson poured from his nose and mouth and spattered against the gurney. It oozed and bubbled as gases escaped his body, his final breath shuddering through his thin, shredded lips. His body went lax as he hung in place, his crow-like appendages dangling at his sides.

Without hesitation she tucked the gun into its holster and withdrew another Stealth Boy, trying to ignore the horrible guilt ripping her apart. She turned on her heel and jogged back to the elevator, eager to escape the casino as quickly as possible. Although she had succeeded, her day was far from over.

She had a date with a King.

A/N: Hey all! Hope I'm not losing you and that this isn't too confusing! It's going to rotate between Avery, Boone, and Joshua until my story climaxes [heh]. Also, I rationalized that the only way to ingest a powder properly would be to mix it with some kind of liquid. There is no mention in the game of Healing Powder being ingested like that but, hey, it makes sense to me. I mean... they could snort it or dilute it with water and do it intravenously, too.

And just to add, this fic is not going to revolve entirely around babies and pregnancy but it is a crucial part of the story arc. I'm getting to it!

Read and review please! :D