Amata was woken by the sound of John moving around the room. She had become a light sleeper since becoming Overseer, and the noise of John's morning routine was more than enough to bring her to consciousness. She lay in bed under the thin sheet that served as a blanket; more than enough during summer in the Capital. She watched the person she still thought of as her man move across the room before taking a seat and twisting around, drawing a string of pops from his back. Unaware of her eyes on him, he removed a syringe from the drawer of his desk and tapped out the air bubbled before injecting it into his femoral artery. Amata's heart sank at the sight. Susie was right. Med-X. The sadness was overwhelmed by anger flashing through her mind. Med-X? What happened to the strong willed JJ I grew up with? She sat up in bed, allowing the sheet to drop to her waist as she did. John jumped slightly, unaware that she was awake.

"What the fuck was that? Med-X?" she hissed at him. He looked surprised by the question.

"Yeah," he began. "For my knee. I injured it…"

"Bullshit," she interrupted. "Susie told me she thought you were hooked on it. When did this start?" The confusion on his face changed to anger. Really? One night together and she's already giving me shit?

"I don't know, sometime after you kicked me out of the Vault?" he replied, voice rising. Amata was taken aback by the venom in his voice. He realized he had been too harsh as well, with a look of regret crossing his face almost as soon as the words left his lips.

"Sorry," he continued before she could say anything. "I'm sorry, Amata. I'm just not used to people questioning me or what I do out here. And I wasn't expecting it from you after all this time."

"What does time have to do with it?" she replied, a look of annoyance on her face. "Out here you may be some Wasteland-wandering Messiah, but I know the real you. You're still my JJ," she continued, putting extra emphasis on the possession. "And I am not losing you to a Med-X addiction. Not when I just got you back," she finished, looking him in the eyes. His irritation with her eased slightly at that. A smile flashed across his face.

"Got me back, huh? Is that what you want? Once I get back from this trip, I mean."

"You know, for a smart guy you're pretty slow on the uptake. Yes, JJ. When you get back that is what I want. Us, like we were before. Like we talked about when we were kids." He smiled at her.

"You know, I've spent the past three years trying to believe you weren't coming back. You could have picked a better time," he said, gesturing to the bags lying around the room. She sighed.

"JJ, I can't fix that now. But we can try to make up for it," she replied. "We have three full days. Let's just take them as they come, ok?" Her voice, her gentle reminder to take it a day at a time, helped ease some of the tension John had felt building over the past few days about this trip. They looked at each other from across the room for a moment before she spoke again. "Now come back to bed," she said, patting the space on the mattress next to her. He broke out in laughter as he stood up, still without clothes from the night before.

"Yes, Overseer," he replied as he strode back to the bed and stretched out beside her. She poked him in the ribs accusingly as he wrapped her up.

"I hate being called Overseer," she whispered to him. "Don't do it." She always was commanding, he thought.

"Want to know a secret?" he asked her. She raised her eyebrows before nodding at him to continue. "I hate that title. Messiah. These people have no idea, the things I've done. And being called that…well, you know my faith," he told her. She looked at him as if trying to puzzle something out.

"How did you do it? I could never imagine the JJ that I grew up with killing someone," she replied.

"I guess I just find a way to justify it. When I first came out of the Vault it was kill or be killed. And my faith never said anything about not defending myself. As time went along that changed. I told myself that I couldn't help these people if I was dead or a pacifist. The killing became necessary evil. A means to an end. I don't like it," he continued, looking down at Amata, intently listening. "For what it's worth, I talk my way out of things when I can. And I've never compromised my core values." She nodded at him, the look on her face resembling acceptance, if not exactly approval.

"It's just…hard to wrap my head around," she said. "Like there are two of you. One of them, the only one I've seen, is a sweet, friendly guy. And then the other, the one the stories talk about…fearless. Merciless. Killing mutants and fucking girls all across the Wasteland…" she trailed off. His heart skipped a beat at that. He was not discussing his conquests with Amata, not when she had just come back into his life and everything felt so fragile.

"Don't believe everything you hear," he replied, his tone making it clear that was the end of that topic. Besides, I was never fearless, he thought. If there was one feeling he associated with his adventures it was fear. Close behind it though was a feeling of being alive. He was ashamed to admit it, but the war had given him a feeling of being alive; a sense of purpose that he found he needed. Every day had taken on new meaning when he realized that it could be his last. Amata's voice brought him back from his reverie.

"What should we do with the time we have left?"

"Is there anywhere you haven't been; anything you haven't seen?"

"I've been to most of the major settlements. Never up north, though. Any ideas? You know this place better than me," she replied. A smile crossed his face. He knew exactly where to take her; something that she'd never forget.

"Yeah, I know a place or two," he replied, grinning at her. Before she could reply he leaned forward to kiss her. The Oasis and Zeta could wait.

Achilles sipped from his canteen as he made his way towards Nipton under the scorching Mojave sun. He had his sleeves rolled up as far as he could, which did little to cool him down. It had given him an impressive tan on his forearms, however. He could practically feel his skin tingling from the sun's glare. It had been difficult even entering the Mojave along the Long 15 this trip, something he had not previously experienced. Security had been increased and there was a back-up of caravans at the Mojave Outpost, the result of dangerous conditions on the road. The fighting coming to a head with the Legion hadn't helped matters any. Good, he thought. Let them fear us. Let them waste their resources chasing ghosts while the Legate prepares to smash them. He had been able to pass through Mojave Outpost with an explanation that he wasn't continuing on the 15 and an adequate bribe to one of the MPs in charge of clearing traffic to pass. On his right, as he made his way along the road, he crossed the sign marking the old state line, a faded blue affair that said "Welcome to California" in yellow letters. Nipton wouldn't be far now. Achilles trudged on in a heat-induced trance, uncharacteristically oblivious to the world around him. It took a cloud of dust kicking up in front of him for his mind to register that the crack he had just heard was a gunshot. Shit! His eyes darted around, spotting the group of raiders ahead of him at the same time that his mind registered an outcrop of rocks off to the side of the road. He dove behind it, pulling out his handgun and flipping off the safety as more rounds impacted the opposite side of the rocks. Four of them. Three with small arms, one with a knife. Let them get into range first. Kill the knife carrier so he doesn't get around you while you're distracted. He risked a glance around the rock, spotting the knife wielding raider rapidly approaching. The view afforded him the chance to see how the other three were armed as well. 10mm pistols and a small caliber rifle, more useful for hunting varmint than people. He decided to take a chance on the raiders being so high on chems that they wouldn't be able to shoot straight and stood up from the cover he was in, taking aim at the knife wielder. He was unable to fire before the man slashed at him. Achilles instinctively dodged as the knife whistled past him. He pivoted back into a fighting stance as bullets impacted the ground and rocks around him. Mars protects me, he thought as the raider stabbed wildly at him. Achilles seized on the opportunity, turning sideways while he deflected the blow, the man falling forward as Achilles grabbed his wrist and, without hesitation, slammed the butt of his pistol down on the raider's forearm. A scream of agony barely escaped the man's lips as the bone snapped, before Achilles grabbed his head and smashed it on the rocks. The raider fell to the ground, convulsing in his death throes as Achilles kneeled behind the rocks in one smooth motion. He saw hesitation cross the faces of the other raiders. That was all he needed. Training his pistol on the nearest he fired three shots into him, blood spurting as the raider collapsed. Achilles had already fired another two rounds before the man hit the ground, his bullets finding the next raider's chest, one of them severing his aorta. He bled out before either of Achilles' other victims had died. The fourth raider had wisely decided to run and had gotten out of range before he, too, could die. Stepping from behind his cover, Achilles moved forward, pistol at the low ready while he scanned for additional threats. Spotting none, he lowered the weapon to his side and approached the first man he had shot, his blood pooling around him. The raider looked at Achilles as his life poured from him and onto the sand. Achilles stared back without a shred of compassion. The profligate's life had brought him to this fate.

"What are you?" the dying raider rasped.

"I am Caesar's wrath made incarnate, profligate." The barrel of Achilles' pistol was the last thing he saw.

Emily strode into the cafeteria to find Julie Moore and Dan Parker hunched over a newspaper. She couldn't help but notice the looks of mild horror, mixed with disgust, on both of their faces. She sat across from them with her bowl of cereal, drawing their attention from the paper. Julie wordlessly slid the morning edition of the Shady Sands Post across to her. Outrage in the Mojave! The headline proclaimed. Emily scanned the article. Four NCR troopers going home on leave, found crucified along the rail lines leading to the Mojave. A grisly greeting for NCR troops heading to the front. It was the furthest into NCR territory that there had been a confirmed Legion attack. Besides the human empathy she felt for the four young troopers, Emily felt a pang of concern for Achilles. That would have been the route he would take into the Mojave. She quickly shut the thought down. She was a 38 year old woman. She refused to behave like a smitten teenager over a man she had spent a week with. She looked back up to Dan and Emily.

"Pretty horrific," she said. Dan looked down at the table, nodding his head slightly. Julie looked back at her, a pained expression on her face.

"Yeah. This war is going nowhere fast," she said.

"Well it's not like the NCR can just roll over and give the Mojave to the Legion," Emily replied. She and Julie had profound philosophical differences; they were friends in spite of it, rather than because of it. Their friendship had gotten off to a rough start, when they were much younger women. Julie's pacifism had clashed with Emily's more aggressive personality and Brotherhood training.

"There has to be a better way than this," she said, gesturing down at the headline. Emily smiled at her.

"I'm sure there is. And once we figure out how to change human nature we won't be needed anymore," she replied. Parker interjected before the debate could continue.

"Pardon the interruption, but will you both be here this afternoon?" he asked, looking at them. Julie nodded.

"I am," she said. Parker nodded back at her before turning to Emily.

"I have a class to teach, but other than that I'm free. Why?"

"Julie Farkas is up from the Mojave. We're having a meeting with her at 3:00 PM. I'd like you both to be there. The Mormon fort outpost is on the front lines, as it were. She'll be able to tell us more about what's happening there." Emily smiled. She had always liked Julie Farkas. The woman worked her ass off to help the people who needed it. Daniel stood up from the table. "I have some stuff to do. I'll see you two this afternoon."

"Bye, Dan," Emily said as he left, before turning back to Julie. "This should be interesting," she said. Moore laughed.

"Yeah. You know my cousin is an officer down in the Mojave?" Emily was surprised by that.

"Cassandra? I didn't know she had been sent there."

"Yeah," Julie replied. "Worried about her. The Legion is getting more brazen," she said, glancing down at the smiling pictures of the murdered NCR troopers.

"No point dwelling on what we can't control, Jules. Let's just see what Farkas has to say this afternoon," Emily replied, before turning to her now soggy breakfast. Ugh. I hate soggy sugar bombs.

Amata's jaw had been slack from the moment they had boarded Zeta. Oasis had been a shock to her; as it was to most when they first laid eyes on it. The ship in orbit was a magnitude greater than a forest. They stood on the bridge looking down at the ruined Earth. From here John could see how long the journey he was about to embark on actually was. Sadly, there wasn't much he could tell about the terrain from this altitude. He looked up from the view and across to Elliot, the Army medic who had been abducted during the Anchorage reclamation. Elliot was looking at Amata, a bemused expression on his face. He seemed to be enjoying her shock.

"It's something else, huh?" he asked her. John smiled as he looked over at Amata. She seemed to have not heard Elliot.

"Babe," he said, nudging her. She jumped, as if she had been so lost staring at Earth that she had forgotten anyone else was there.

"Yeah?" she whispered, voice quavering slightly.

"Elliot asked you a question," he said gently, nodding towards the soldier. She looked started at that.

"I'm sorry, Elliot. I just…it's…" she trailed off. Elliot laughed lightly.

"I understand. It's pretty incredible, huh?"

"I'm still not sure if I'm dreaming," she replied.

"You're not. Trust me, this place used to be more of a nightmare," John replied. She looked at him. "Long story," he continued before she could ask what he meant.

"You say that a lot," she complained in a fake whine. She had at least recovered her sense of humor quickly.

"What can I say," he replied, shrugging. "I've done a lot." Elliot laughed as John spoke.

"And we still appreciate it," the medic chimed in.

"How much, Elliot?"

"What?"

"How much do you appreciate it?" John asked.

"A lot. I told you we all owe you for it," the medic replied.

"I'm calling in that debt, Elliot." A look of confusion crossed the man's face.

"What do you…?"

"The Vault I grew up in needs better medical help. They had a decent enough medic, but no one with your training." Amata and Elliot both were taken aback before they spoke at the same time.

"This is who-"

"…me to go back to Earth?" John held up his hands to quiet them.

"One at a time. Elliot?"

"You. Want. Me. To go. Back. To Earth?" the man asked in slow, measured tones.

"You'd be living in a Vault that's secure and separated from the Wasteland. You'll be safe and have a job and a place to live."

"John, I-"

"Elliot. I was being polite. They need a doctor. You have advanced medical training. Didn't you take an oath to help people?"

"Technically I only took an oath to obey the President and my officers…"

"Look, asshole, you're going to Vault 101," John replied, frustration seeping into his voice. Elliot held his hands up in a conciliatory gesture.

"Ok, ok, I'll go get my stuff," he muttered before stalking off the bridge, leaving John and Amata alone.

"What was that all about?" she asked.

"Elliot can be a whiny bitch, but he's a very competent medic. You said your Vault doc wasn't that great."

"Jane's ok for first aid, I guess," Amata replied.

"And what about the first time someone gets seriously ill? Or there's a pregnancy?"

"Point taken," she said. Elliot came back on to the bridge, a bag in tow and a sour look on his face.

"Look, Elliot, when I get back you can leave the Vault if you want," he said. Elliot just frowned.

"Why don't we just go, John? The day-night terminus is getting close to D.C.," the medic responded. John just nodded and, leading Amata by the hand, made his way to the teleporter back to the Capital Wasteland. He couldn't help but think that he only had one day left in the only place he'd ever really known.