TIMELINE

SHATTERED ILLUSIONS

Fractals

FRONTIER DREAMING

The Wasteland Train Robbery

By Way of Arizona

Home Springs Eternal

DEAD MAN'S HEAD

Welcome to New Vegas

BOSTON RISING

The Commonwealth Interviews

No Stray Dogs in Freeside

Freeside street vendors were not to be trusted. Too many people with not enough to go around; just people, people, people. No rats, no bugs, and no stray dogs. That was the day to day reality of the bloated, swollen, rotting offshoot of New Vegas that was Freeside.

Every street and alley was an artery flowing from the Mojave Wasteland to the coveted gates of the Strip. Clogging these thoroughfares was every imaginable racket to separate caps from naive passerby. Food carts boiled bloatfly and called it brahmin, upstart bodyguards hired hoodlums to hassle their clients, criers clung to the corners shouting their hooks in a desperate hope that someone might drop into their den after hearing somewhere the place was pretty good. Freeside was a tick feeding off the excess of New Vegas and its inhabitants worked to suck dry every cap that passed by.

There was a hierarchy to Freeside though, chaos in the micro, orderly in the macro. Closest to the walls of New Vegas, the buildings still stood. Brick and mortar cracked and worn, but windows and roofs remained. These were the homes of the scores of casino employees the Strip required. Cooks, bartenders, cleaners, dancers, workers one and all. They and their families rated the "nicest" Freeside had to offer.

Then came the diehard Freesiders who chose to live and die there. The King's School, the Atomic Wrangler, the Silver Rush, Rio Rojo, Members Only, and more. These businesses served Freeside just as much as they preyed upon it. For those who couldn't make it to the Strip but weren't quite destitute yet, these casinos and shops were homes and havens.

And then sprawling out into the desert were the poor bastards stranded in town. Not enough caps to move deeper in towards the promised land of New Vegas, nor enough to resupply and escape out into the desert. Gambler shanties were shackled together from detritus and trash contrasted with the NCR tent city slowly encroaching on their pitiful territory.

While there were no dogs in Freeside, Ava opted for something recognizably bloatfly. Not that she would admit it, but she would always have a soft spot in her heart for dogs. Soft enough not to eat one. The merchant she bought from, a surly man named Genaro, barely acknowledged the transaction other than to scrape his spatula across his grill to pry one of the sizzling insects loose for her.

"Gimme some hot sauce," she said to Knox around a mouthful of the burnt insect.

Knox raised his eyebrows at her. "You could have waited like ten minutes and had something with less than six legs."

"I'm hungry. Hot sauce."

Knox shook his head; his pack stayed firmly on his back. Ava kept eating her bloatfly. He'd warned her about Genaro but she hadn't listened. Rumor being the harbinger of reputation, Genaro's food stall was in a league of its own in Freeside. Unless you saw the creature he put on the grill, it wasn't what he said it was. His grill wouldn't be the first or the last place in Freeside to find itself home to something once human.

While the burg was borderline degenerate, it wasn't entirely lawless. Overly predatory scams and cons would result in someone being run out of town. The Kings and their groupies and greasers kept the water flowing, the Van Graffs kept the peace by the Silver Rush and Atomic Wrangler, even the Jackals, Vipers, and Great Khans kept a modicum of order near their encampments. Might made right in Freeside and the various gang leaders did their parts to keep the quiet.

But that quiet seemed even closer to the brink than usual, Knox observed as they walked. When he'd left New Vegas to go east, the NCR was busy picking up the pieces of their infrastructure after Caesar's Legion had smashed against them in a battle over Hoover Dam.

Hoover Dam, the jewel of the Colorado River, was the key strategic asset for the NCR in the Mojave. The centuries-old monolith generated enough electricity to power the NCR's cities ten times over. The wealth of resources it promised was enough for them to run their army ragged against the Legion and bleed their coffers dry to defend it. It'd brought their thinly stretched military close to failing and had made a total annexation of the Mojave an impossibility. Instead New Vegas became an independent protectorate of the NCR. NCR troopers patrolled the desert and the Strip in exchange for power from the dam. All in all, it was a deal greatly tilted in favor of New Vegas, something the NCR had never been thrilled about.

It appeared NCR leadership had decided to tackle this diplomatic snafu by attempting to colonize in every way but name. Citizens and civilians and soldiers alike were being moved into the desert en masse in an attempt to start building out NCR conclaves. The green tent city sprawling around Freeside was just one example. A bunch of land-hungry, resource desperate settlers crammed into a place not quite welcome to them. Knox could see the resentful looks between the locals and the NCR. Looks like that led to blows – had probably already led to blows.

"You can walk and eat, right?" Knox asked Ava. He didn't like the tension on the block. If a fight broke out, he gave himself poor odds of keeping Ava out of it. And ending up in NCR lockup over a street brawl was exactly what they didn't need right now.

"Of course I can eat and walk."

"Then eat. And walk." He nudged her along down the block. Ava needed a passport to get onto the Strip. That or a giant pile of caps. While Knox didn't doubt her ability to "acquire" a large amount of money, a passport would be quicker and cleaner. The luxury gambling economy of the Strip was maintained by a strict credit check at the gates by NCR soldiers and New Vegas securitrons. No one without enough currency to be worth it was getting in. For all the non-gamblers employed by the Strip, a passport was their ticket in. And Knox knew exactly who to talk to to get one.

"So Ralph requires a little sweet talking to get a passport. He's an artist and he likes to be appreciated. Except his husband, Mick, is the jealous sort. So I have a favor to ask-"

"Fight Mick?"

"Wait outside."

Ava tore off another chunk of her bloatfly. "Well, that's boring."

"You make people uneasy. If you make Ralph uneasy, Mick pays attention, and I can't talk up a passport for you."

"Why do I even need a passport?" Ava whined, throwing her head back and dragging her feet. "I thought the guy I'm supposed to see is here in Freeside."

"The doct-...the guy, Arcade," Knox said, sidestepping the d-word, "He's in Freeside. But if you want places to go after your checkup…" He trailed off and pointed at an artfully constructed shop sign bearing the namesake of its owners. "We have to see Mick and Ralph."

Ava had been alternating between obsessively inquiring about her impending doctor's appointment mandated by her grandfather, and finding as many detours as possible. Whatever would slow them down the most in the moment was her tactic. It was transparent and it was working. Her fear of doctor's was pathological and she was far too smart for her own good with avoidant tendencies to match. Thankfully, Arcade should provide a suitable match. Knox thought so at least.

And despite her foot-dragging, Ava very much did want to see the New Vegas Strip. The night before she got her first glimpse of the neon lights brightening the star filled skies. It was enough for her to retract her previous doubting that the city was in fact real and not just an elaborate ruse Knox had been trying to pull on her. Knox could see the awe on her face and the stunned hush it brought to her. No cursing, no snarling, no scathing comments, just quiet awe.

New Vegas held a potential future for Ava, and Knox intended to help her find it. He just wished it involved less kicking and screaming.

Mick and Ralph's shop featured large street level windows showcasing their wares. Large rebar grilles covered the windows. Freeside, baby. Ava leaned back against the bars and crossed her arms with a huff.

"Well hurry it up in there," she grumbled.

"Will do. And you're going to…"

"Wait here," she said.

"Wait here," Knox confirmed.

"Would you fucking go inside already?"

The threat was barely uttered as Knox was already sliding through the door before Ava could kick him. The bell hanging from the frame tinkled and he was gone. She watched him stride up to the man working the counter, Ralph she guessed. The other one, Mick, was organizing bullets in the back.

"It's me Knox! I'm going to whisper sweet nothings in your ear so you do what I want," Ava imagined Knox saying.

"Oh Courier, you're so dusty and mustached, I'm going to swoon and do whatever you want," Ralph would reply.

"Excellent! Ha-ha-ha! I'm so witty!"

A shadow fell across Ava as she mused and she turned to scowl at the armored bear-of-a-man leering with beady little eyes and a shit-eating grin. He'd marked her as easy prey.

"The fuck do you want?" she asked. She'd marked him as easy prey too.

Ralph's counter was littered with deconstructed toy trucks. Some bore the Nuka Cola logo, some that of Sunset Sarsaparilla, and a few were so battered and weatherbeaten their paint had faded long ago. He was meticulously removing the wheels of each one and unthreading the screws holding them in. The screws he dumped into a box helpfully labeled "screws"; the wheel he rethreaded with sticks of gnarled rusted wire.

"I've got boxes of this crap," he said, gesturing at the pile of scrap metal. "So I harvest the screws, charge regular price, discount the trucks, scrappers thinking they're getting a deal and buy them, clear my inventory, and still have screws to sell to boot. Genius, no?"

Knox leaned with calculated casualness against Ralph's work station. "Genius yes, I'd say." He rolled one of the re-wheeled trucks back and forth. It wobbled its way across the counter. "That's some shrewd work, Ralph. I'm impressed."

"Coming from you, that's high praise."

"You're going to make me blush," Knox said, with just the right number of teeth smiling. Ralph was wise to Knox's routine. That didn't mean he wasn't highly susceptible to it.

"You know, I know you're playing me, Courier…" he said.

"But?"

"But I can't say I care."

"Shrewd at business and gracious. Mick doesn't know what he's got."

Ralph chuckled and started unscrewing the wheels from another truck. "You are a flirt, Knox. A no good flirt! What can I do for you this fine day, seeing as I know you're not here to see me dismantle toy trucks."

"I'd watch you dismantle toy trucks all day long, Ralph, but in this case, I do need a favor."

"You always do," Ralph said, still smiling.

Knox knew he had Ralph dead to rights at this point. The flirting was just to say thanks. Mick and Ralph were solidly steady in their marriage. Mick was just the strong silent type. Occasionally, Ralph just wanted a bit more spice.

"You know, I was going to ask you to fashion a passport for my friend out there, buuuttttt… you and I could intstead wander over to the Atomic Wrangler, treat ourselves to something from the kitchen, maybe a show…"

"Alright, alright, a passport. Shoo fly, or I'm going to set Mick on you."

"Set me on who now?" Mick said, walking up behind Ralph to stand beside him. He eyed Knox, his face impassive. If Mick ever turned to playing cards, he'd be nigh unstoppable.

"Hiya, Mick," Knox said with a wave and a cheeky grin. "Just hiring your hubby for some forgery work."

Mick nodded out the window. "For your friend out there? The one talking to Orris?"

"Who the fuck is Orris?" Knox asked, casual lean gone and eyes alert as he turned to see Ava grab a beefy-looking, bulky man by the collar of his armor and slam his head into the metal bars covering the shop window with a resonant bong!

"Can't take her fucking anywhere."

Mick unholstered the revolver hung proudly on his hip and reached under the counter to grab a shotgun which he handed to Ralph. Knox held a hand up to slow their advance.

"Easy now, cowboys. This'll be good for her. She can burn off some aggression."

Outside the window, Ava had started scrapping with the trio of raggedy degenerates Orris had brought with him as back up. They didn't stand a chance. One almost immediately turned tail and ran, and a second appeared to be playing possum after Ava gave him one good hit across the face. The last was doing his best to slash at Ava with a tire iron to no real effect.

Ava was a formidable fighter. She was quick, tenacious, brutal, and she fought dirty. An underfed goon with a piece of metal was no real threat. However, Ava also suffered from an abundance of pride. She knew the man didn't stand a chance and she knew he knew that too. She was toying with him. And thus she wasn't paying attention when Orris lurched back to his feet, spun her around, and cold-cocked her with his gauntleted fist.

"Oooooooooo," Knox, Mick, and Ralph all said as Ava stumbled back, bleeding freely from her nose. She wiped it on the back of her fist, jaw furiously working for a moment. She spat a tooth out and her eyes narrowed to lethal, furious slits. She hurtled into Orris and took him to the ground.

"So, Orris…what sort of pain in the ass is he? Because she's not going to stop until she pulls his head from his body," Knox said, walking over to the window to watch Ava pummel the unfortunate thug. The tire-iron wielding man was the last one standing. He dropped his weapon and turned tail and ran.

"He's a racketeer," Ralph said, already stowing his shotgun back under the counter. "Annoying, but usually harmless." Ava was now kicking Orris in the ribs. Ralph shrugged. "You know, he's part of the local culture."

"And we wouldn't want to fuck up the local culture, now would we," Knox said. He started for the door but paused and picked up an old camera off one of Ralph's shelves. "This work, or did you pull all the screws from it?"

"It works."

"Great." Knox shouldered his way out the door. "HEY!"

Ava paused mid-stomp, eyes pissed and wild. "WHAT!?"

"Smile."

The camera flashed and spat out a single photo of Ava smiling a bloody, now gap-toothed smile.

While Ralph assembled a bootleg passport for Ava, it was time to force her towards her impending appointment. No more distractions, no more detours. They'd made it to the Old Mormon Fort, the homebase of the Followers of the Apocalypse. The Fort was ancient even before the bombs fell. Sturdy, stone walls contained the hive of medics and doctors buzzing from patient to patient.

Ava was shockingly calm as they stepped through the gates. A mild sneer was creeping across her face upon seeing all the white lab coats and her nose was definitely wrinkling in disgust at the smell of antiseptic, but she wasn't spitting and cursing which was unexpected to say the least. For his part, Knox decided to just keep an eye on it. Subtle Ava was not and whatever she was doing was likely going to play out by itself.

"So this is it, huh?" she asked, casting an eye at the myriad tents lined up to see patients.

The Fort was orderly and while not appearing well supplied, it was well cared for. Most everything showed signs of having been repaired time and again but nothing lay broken, nothing lay wasted. One tent serviced the chem addicts shaking through withdrawal. Another checked up on the various dancers, performers, and after hours companions of the Strip. Several stations all together seemed to be dedicated to patching up travelers roughed up by Freeside. Ava couldn't be sure but one of the patients there looked a lot like one of the goons she'd just beaten down outside Mick and Ralph's.

All in all, it was an orderly and professionally run aid post, if not one in dire need of an influx of caps. Ava hated it. But she kept that to herself.

Knox led the way in, smiling and waving at a few of the Followers he seemed to recognize. All but one smiled and waved back. And that one was directly where he was leading them. The doctor in question had set up court behind a table full of clipboards and files. Her brow was furrowed and her mouth was set in a permanent frown. She was also sporting an incredible array of vertical spikes of hair atop her buzzed head.

"Please tell me that's my doctor," Ava whispered to Knox.

"Not on your life," he returned with a grin. To the woman he called out, "Julie Farkas, how's my favorite medical administrator doing?"

The woman, Julie, didn't even pause from looking at her files. "Knox. Are you here to help or hinder?"

From his bag of expressions, the faux-hurt look Ava had grown quite familiar with was summoned. "Julie, you wound me." Julie had apparently seen the look many times too. "I'm just looking for Arcade," Knox continued, seeing as the game of witty repartee was not to be had.

"Looking for Arcade, and…" Julie said, pausing her review of files to fix Knox with a piercing glare.

"And just having him give a check up to my friend here." Knox pointed a thumb over his shoulder at Ava. "Then he can get back to whatever it is you've got him doing."

"Hm." Julie fixed Ava with a quick, calculating look that made Ava want to profess her love for the woman if not for the horrifying fact that she was a doctor.

"Alright, Knox. You know where his tent is. And you." She was looking at Ava again. "We're short on just about everything here including patience. So if you're going to cause trouble, I suggest you just leave now."

"Oh, we'll be on our best behavior," Knox said, already steering Ava away before she could speak and say something most likely combative and offensive. But yet again, she held her tongue. She was definitely up to something.

"So that was Julie Farkas," he said as he led her along towards the back of the Fort. "She runs the Followers here in Freeside and her opinion is pretty much the deciding vote for the Followers as a whole in the Mojave. So she's a pretty great person to have in your corner if you're liable to need patching up."

"Must be a shame she doesn't like you then," Ava mumbled, glancing back at the serious doctor with the intimidating hair.

"Oh Julie loves me. She's just unimpressed by me. There's a difference. Anytime I get a hookup that might be useful I send them her way. Supplies, chems, expertise, you know. In my line of work, I try to stay on the doctors' good sides. Doctors like…" Knox paused as they approached a tent along the back wall of the Fort. He threw the flaps open with a flourish. "Arcade! Where you at, fella?"

Ava sidled into the tent behind Knox to see the inside of a very packed tent full of every piece of scientific equipment one could imagine. And amidst all of it…plants. Various pots and containers covered every surface with more forms of unique plant life than Ava had ever seen.

A very tall, very blonde doctor sat at the one desk crammed in with the shelves and workbenches. He'd evidently been in the middle of some delicate task that Knox had disrupted as several spilled beakers now lay spilled over his work surface. The man sighed and hung his head.

"Knox. Somebody better be dead or dying."

Ignoring the acid tone, Knox pulled the man up from his seat in a big hug, knocking his glasses askew and mussing his neatly combed blonde hair.

"It has been too damned long. How the hell are you?" Knox asked, further mussing up the put together doctor.

Arcade was a thin man. Well-kept and cleanly. He kept his shirt color and sleeves buttoned all the way up and his lab coat was just next to spotless albeit some very fresh stains from the chemicals he'd just dropped. He tolerated Knox's hug for a few moments before stepped back out of it, adjusting his glasses and giving his hair a half-hearted run through with his fingers.

"Oh, you know, just busy doing science and the like. You know how it is. Or maybe you don't as anytime I'm with you we're usually getting shot at and the like."

"It has been months and that's the hello I get?" Knox asked, the faux-hurt expression back in place.

"Months? I hadn't noticed. Must be why it's been so quiet," Arcade said. Ava snickered. The man may have been a doctor but a doctor who roasted Knox was a minor plus.

"Oh, Arcade, how I've missed you."

"Like a hole in the head."

Despite the barbed words, the tone of the conversation was warm even affectionate. Knox grabbed a rag from a shelf and tossed it to Arcade so he could start mopping up his work station. The two displayed a familiar ease that Ava always struggled to understand. She lingered to the side in discomfort.

"So what'd you bring me?" Arcade asked, tossing the now sodden rag to a can in the corner and settling back into his seat.

"Dried brittle bush seeds from Arizona. Better than that farmed crap from the NCR you're culturing. This stuff'll handle the heat way better." Knox pulled a small pouch from his bag and handed it over to Arcade who immediately poured the seeds onto his desk and pulled a lamp over to look at them.

"Not bad, not bad," Arcade said to himself, Knox and Ava's presence far second to the new seeds he had to examine. "I think these will take perfectly. Could be a quick treatment for Weeping Gum." He started scribbling in a notebook, the other two completely forgotten.

Knox winked at Ava who was watching Arcade with a mix of disdain and curiosity. "I've also brought something else," he said.

Arcade stopped writing and his eyes flicked over.

"This is Ava." Knox pulled her forward and clapped her on the shoulders. "And she needs a checkup."

Arcade took a deep breath through his nose. "Ah. Of course." He pointed at the seeds. "Quid." He pointed at Knox. "Pro." And then Ava. "Quo. And so the wheel turns." He turned in his seat to face Ava. "So what's your deal?"

"Not in front of him," Ava said, nodding her head at Knox while unblinkingly matching Arcade's stare.

"Privacy. Alright then. Knox, get out."

And there it was. Knox smiled bemusedly at the side of Ava's head as she studiously refused to look at him. He could go along with her charade for the moment. Knowing Arcade, her expectations were about to be sorely deflated. Knox pulled his hat from his head and ruffled his fingers through his hair intentionally flinging a few droplets of sweat onto Ava.

"Ohhhh, alright then. Yeah. I'll just get out of here then. Head over to the Wrangler. Get a drink." He put his hat back atop his head and swept out of the tent.

Arcade rolled back in his chair and motioned to a single surgical table that had not been relegated as shelf space. "Disrobe. Have a seat," he said brusquely, rising to wash his hands at a wash basin. Ava didn't move.

"Yeah, that's not gonna happen. Here's how this is going to go. You're not examining me and I don't set this tent on fire. Because so help me, if you tell me to say 'ahhh' I'll tear this entire camp down, do you-"

Arcade cut her off and went back to his seat to continue working. "Okay. Don't care. Get out."

With her tirade chopped off mid-stream Ava blinked and watched the doctor as if he were about to suddenly lunge for a stethoscope. Ava took one step sideways towards the opening of the tent, never taking her eyes off Arcade who had returned to examining the dried seeds Knox had brought him.

She took another step. And another. And then turned to exit the tent only to run face first into Knox's palm.

The Courier stepped back in, shoving Ava back towards the table. "Silly me," Knox said, "I totally forgot, I have a letter for you Arcade. And Ava you're mentioned in it! It's from Doc Mitchell of Goodsprings who is -turns out- Ava's grandfather! And he says not to let her pull any tom-foolery to get out of the exam she promised she'd get." He said the last bet staring at Ava with a wide grin as she gnashed her teeth at his hand and he kept her at arm's length.

With a flourish, Knox held the letter out to Arcade who took it to briefly glance over. He read through it, face impassive as he took in Doc Mitchell's notes on Ava's medical 'history'. Meanwhile Knox suddenly withdrew the hand he had on Ava's face causing her to nearly topple over, clacking her teeth together hard before clamping her hands over her jaw as her eyes watered in pain from the shooting nerve pains from her newly missing tooth. Arcade set the letter on the table not the least bit ruffled by Knox and Ava.

"Alright, second times the charm." He looked at Ava. "I'm not lying to Doc Mitchell for you. Disrobe. Table." He pointed at the table again before looking at Knox. "And you-"

"Getting out," Knox interjected as he was already stepping backwards out of the tent and away from Ava's striking range. "I'll be at the Wrangler," he yelled from outside.

Arcade bent over slightly in his seat to make sure Knox had truly departed from outside the tent before standing and gesturing for Ava, who still hadn't moved, to make her way to the table.

"I hear you have brain damage," he said.

"Oh you have no idea. Also, can you put teeth back in? I lost one at Mick and Ralph's and they gave me this cool golden one," Ava asked as she tossed her bag, poncho, and PipBoy to the rug floor. She held a glistening, golden fang out to Arcade.

"This appears to be a coyote fang. You're missing a front molar," he said. Ava said nothing. Arcade took the tooth and shrugged. "Yeah, I can put this in for you."

A/N: And away we go onto another chapter in the saga! I'm excited to be here. Dead Man's Hand is a true playground of stories and moments I want to write so this should be lots of fun.

If you're interested in seeing where this series goes, give the story a follow and you'll be kept up to date as I post chapters.

Anyways, til next time!