The sun scorched the earth; burning rays bleaching anything exposed to the light. Traversing the rocky hills and valleys, Follows-Chalk kept pace with Courier Six; staying by her heels and she slunk through the rough terrain of Zion.

"So, what... happened?" His voice took her by surprise; Six glancing over her shoulder. "After you were shot in the head... You said you woke up..."

Six let out a breath, pulling the bandana from her face; stuffing it into one of the pouches on her hip. "I'll give you the short version," she stated, "I woke up in Goodsprings, a little town in the Mojave, in the house of a kingly old man name Doc Michelle. He patched me, gave me..." She stopped, rotating her wrist; holding up her arm so he could see the device attached to her forearm, "this pip-boy and set me loose..."

Follows-Chalk quirked a brow, watching her dig through one of the satchels on her hips; pulling out a crumpled pack of cigarettes. "What about the one that shot you?"

Six didn't answer right away, tapping out a cigarette and placing it between worn, thin lips before returning the pack to the satchel, "well..." She let out a breath, producing a small lighter. "That's... That's a bit of a ways on in the story..." Lighting up her cigarette, she took a drag; turning her thoughts over in her head. "But, I guess I can get there... It's not... Necessarily the end..."

"Wait – so, what happened after you woke up?"

Six let out a breath; smoke coiling out from between her lips and crawling into the sky. "Not much of a story, that... Just... I did a bit of wandering, reconsidered a few things..." Her hand fell to one of her pistols, a black revolver hitched to the back of her belt; picking at the odd rusted dust in the nooks and crevices of the weapon. "Found a way to... Let Go, I guess..."

"What from there?" He pried.

Six chuckled, glancing back at him, "well..." she took a moment to check her Pip-boys map, studying the distance between them and their destination. "I guess we have time..."

Stumbling down the abandoned rail road track, body weary and wrought with fatigue; I finally caught sight of sanctuary by way of a large t-rex that climbed high into the sky, the silhouette of a man in its mouth. Shambling into town, I made my way into a small motel; finding an older woman lurking behind the counter.

"Well, hello there," she greeted.

"I need a room," I cut her off, having no time for friendly chatter.

The woman seemed offended, but nodded, "it's 20 caps a night," she stated.

I slammed 100 caps down onto the counter to, "five nights..." I said, "I... I just need some place to stay for five nights." She accepted the caps before pulling a key from beneath the counter.

"Your room will be the one upstairs, closest to the lobby side," she stated.

"Thank you..." I took the key, stumbling out of the main office and towards the rooms; bumping into a large man with a scowl on his face, who carried himself like a man with his death on the horizon. A man, I didn't know at the time, but, would come to call...

Six took in a breath, discarding the burned out cigarette, lingering on her words; unsure of them. "A friend... or... I thought we were... friends..."

Follows-Chalk quirked a brow, looking at her; watching tie her bandana back around her face. "What happened?"

"We had... a difference in opinions..." She sucked in a breath, "I thought the past didn't have to matter, he disagreed..." She stopped, looking at the building marked by the warnings of Dead Horses that decorated the old look out post; a building in surprisingly good condition, considering. "It looks pretty intact, but you should stay down here..." She stated; eyeing the worn and sun bleached steps up to the stations room, "you might fall through if you're not careful."

"I'm not that heavy..." He stated, Six looking at him over her shoulder. She turned and faced him, taking a few steps down the slight slope so they were at the same ground level, setting her hands on her hips and pulling her shoulders back so she was standing at her full height; rising to just below his eyes, looking like a large doll with her dainty frame and short height. "Never mind..."

"Yeah," she dismissed. "Hang here, I'll be back..." She approached the stairs; careful to stand on the outside of the boards, Follows-Chalk moving to the base of the stairs and watching her as she climbed into the station.

"You're some kind of lucky to still be alive," he remarked, "were you here, you'd be eaten alive by... Cazadores or... Brahmin."

Six let out a bark of laughter, "Brahmin? Really?" She chuckled. "Listen, kid, I've been to worse than here... This place don't got shit on..." She trailed off, going silent for a moment. "On some other pre-war places I've been to..."

Follows-Chalk hummed, studying the area around them, catching sight of cazadores in the distant; buzzing across the ridges of Zions cliffs. "Don't know what kind of thing is worse than a cazadore sting..."

"Try air that's trying to kill you," she called down. "Or bomb collars..."

His brow furrowed in confusion, "what?"

"They're... Collars that explode, make your pop off – I've had a few too many of those things-" She stopped abruptly, "there we go..." She remerged a moment later, shoulder her pack back into place. "I've had a few too many of those things around my neck..."

"Why?"

"Old people are crazy," she dismissed, "where was I in my story?" He simply shrugged. "Great... Um..." She hummed in thought. "Something about Novac... Eh, who cares – that's a boring story anyway; long and short of it, the guy I met needed help, I obliged and in return he promised to watch my back. From there we wandered until we found The Strip..."

Follows-Chalk cocked a brow and tilted his head to the side. "The strip? You mentioned that before..."

Six let out a breath, leading him to the side of the building; dumping her pack before starting to rummage through it. "It's this... Big fancy place, streets lined with Casinos and covered in lights; a beacon of hope in the Mojave. It's where the son of a bitch that shot me ran too, can't blame him, I would too. There's a certain kind of safe you feel there..." She pulled two bottles of water from her bag, tugging down her bandana as she handed one to him. "Like... Nothing can hurt you..."

"Sounds nice..."

"Yeah..." She undid the cap on her water, taking a swig.

"Why'd you leave?"

Six remained silent, drinking her water; keeping her gaze trained on the horizon. "We should head back before night fall..." She stated, "I don't want to be out here after dark..."

He nodded, taking a gulp of his water; watching Six pull her pack back on, the two heading back the way they came. "So, why'd you leave The Strip if it felt safe?"

She stole a glance back at him, "just because some... thing feels safe, doesn't mean it is..." She dismissed. "Let's just say something happened and I decided to... deal with it the same way I always do..."

"How?"

Six didn't answer, simply leading the way back towards the Eastern Virgin; staying quite as she travelled, her mind off in her thoughts, leaving Follows-Chalk to wonder while her mind wandered back to the creaky steps of the T-Rex building, to the door the clicked and screeched as she pushed it open.

Her mind wandered back to the memory of the novelty shop; shelves lined with battered t-rex figurines, their paint chipped and colour faded. A man had been behind the counter, fast asleep with his feet up on the countertop; his snoring clashing with the radio the buzzed like white noise in the background.

She ignored him, choosing instead to make for the stairs that climbed up the T-rex's body. The aged wood creaked beneath her boots as she climbed the steps, making her way to the door that led out into the mouth of the T-rex.

Pushing it back, she'd found that it made much less noise than the front door; almost silent as she shouldered it open. On the other side was a man a head taller than her, lean and worn, with the ghost of a tan; clad in a white shirt, cargo pants and a vibrant red beret.

"Excuse me?" Her voice caught him by surprise; the man she'd come to know as Boone spinning around and aiming his rifle at her head, Six quick to duck out of the way before the barrel was trained on her. "Woah, calm down!"

"Goddamn it," he hissed, lowering his gun, "don't sneak up on me like that... What do you want?"

Six let out a breath of laughter. "Expecting someone?"

He adjusted the way he was holding his rifle, taking a moment to look her over, "yeah... I guess, maybe I am – but not like you..." He looked her over again; studying the legionnaire gear that hid her identity. "Huh, maybe it should've been you I was expecting all along. Why are you here?"

She hummed quietly. "Who were you looking for?"

He scowled, "if you see anyone in Legion crimson..."

"It'll be a race to who gets to them first," she joked, "although, you've got an unfair advantage over me."

"You still haven't answered my question..."

Six shrugged, "Making new friends?"

"I don't have any friends here," he hissed.

Snapping her fingers, she made a finger gun; pointing it at him, "I'm not from here..."

He hummed, "no, no you're not, are you? Maybe you shouldn't go, not just yet. I need someone I can trust, you're a stranger, that's a start."

Six let out a short breath of laughter, "you trust strangers?"

"I said it was a start," he said firmly, "this town... nobody looks me straight in the eye anymore. I want you to find something out for me, I don't know if there's anything to find, but I need someone to try. My wife was taken from our home by Legion slavers one night, while I was on watch. They knew when to come and what route to take, and they only took Carla. Someone set it up, I don't know who..."

Six tilted her head to the side, "you're trying to track down your wife?"

"My wife's dead," he dismissed, "I want the son of a bitch who sold her."

She hummed, "how do you know?"

"I know, all right? And that's all you need to know."

"And what do I do when I find them?"

"Bring him out in front of the nest here while I'm on duty," he stated, "I work nights. I'll give you my NCR beret to put on, It'll be our signal so I know you're standing with him. I'll take care of the rest. I need to do this myself."

"I understand," she agreed, "I get what that's like..."

The Dead Horses came into view, pulling Courier Six from her memories; becoming aware of the fact that Follows-Chalk was talking at her. She stole a glance back at him before running her eyes over the camp, trying to figure what he was talking about when her eyes caught on the Burned Man looming by one of the campfires; speak with a Dead Horse.

Whatever he was saying was distant to her, muffled; her eyes trained on Joshua Graham. As the Dead Horse left his side, his gaze shifted to them, eyes meeting hers. She felt her heart pick up pace and chest tighten; head starting to swim making her unsteady. "Courier?"

She jumped, head snapping around to Follows-Chalk, "what?"

"Were you ever a singer?"

Six stared at him for moment, "what? No? I was a..." She trailed off, "a-a courier – I've only ever been ... A Courier. I've never been anything else..."

"Sounds a shame," he stated, "why not? Why have you always been a courier?"

She stole another glance back at him; the two approaching the camp fire, Six falling down onto a log bench, taking off her boots and shouldering off her pack. "Just the way things turned out," she dismissed, setting her boots by the fire to dry.

"You never wanted to be anything else?"

"No," she dismissed.

"I heard in the civilised lands that people can be whatever they want."

"Yeah," she agreed. "And that's why I'm a Courier."

"And that's all you ever wanted to be?"

"The path people follow is not ours to judge," Grahams voice cut through the air, the Burned man studying the pair, "if our friend here has only ever wanted to be a Courier, it is not your place to judge; all we can do is be thankful for her help."

Six looked up at him, "it's gods place to judge, right?" Her words were laced with venom.

"Yes," he stated, folding his hands over the bible he carried, "it is only god who can judge us."

"And you, what? Get a free pass for everything you've done just because you ask nicely?" She stated, "must be nice for you..."

Follows-Chalk sucked in a breath, "Courier..."

"I ask God for forgiveness every day; whether or not he has found that forgiveness is not for me to know," he stated.

"I'm not a religious woman by any stretch," Six stated, "but when they say you need to ask for forgiveness, I'm pretty sure they mean you're supposed to mean it."

"I have many regrets about the crimes I've committed," he stated, "and there is no excusing my actions; all I ask is that god find the mercy to forgive me for my sins."

"Right," she muttered, "because you've been so merciful." She stood, "I'm going for a walk, I'll be back in a bit." With that, Courier Six took off; leaving her boots drying by the fire and her pack resting against the log bench.