Chapter XIII:
Psychic Disposition
Gideon
"He's been getting worse."
We were standing over the highway intersection, the kid snoring softly in the tent behind us.
"How so?" I asked. She turned and leaned against the banister; allowing me an actual look at visual judgment. She was wearing a brown robe: a hood connecting to a cowl that overlapped the rest of garment that came to rest at the beginning of the chest line. The rest was one piece that flowed over the rest of her body to the foot of the floor, with a vent on both front and back of the robe. She had rather fair face that looked like it was heart shaped, tangles of cropped black hair slopping all about where it could, with bright green eyes that stared out with a mixture of kindness but mischief.
All in all; she looked way too cheerful to be in a shit pile like this mess of wanderers and castaways on the side of the road. On top of that, the face was like a mask hiding something underneath. What I didn't know.
"He's had this ability since before I met him," she began, her eyes flowing back to the tent, "Before, he had a control over it. Now though…"
"Yeah, I think I know what you mean." I replied, reaching into my pocket to retrieve a cigarette. I didn't normally smoke, but I felt the need now. I took a long drawl, letting the smoke down into my lungs and out in a blow of gray fire.
"I think it started with you," She stated, turning to lean against the banister as though she was peering into the distance for some unknown objective.
"What exactly did he see?" I asked, taking another drawl from the cigarette.
"Lots of blood, and you right in the middle of it all."
Then she paused and then stared into my single eye.
"If I may ask, what were you doing?"
"Me? Going total apeshit on a bunch of geckos."
She chuckled at that.
"What's so funny?"
"Oh, I'm sorry," she began wiping at her eyes, "just the way you'd replied."
I had to smile at that. I took a drawl, pondering over this very strangely dressed woman who was apparently good at hiding. I could see it in the lines of her face.
"Can I ask you something?"
"I think you already have."
"Funny, but you look like you've traveled a long way on some very bad roads. Where'd you come from?"
"The grave, actually." I replied with a smirk, to which she laughed, almost taking it at face value.
"Then you're looking pretty good for the circumstances. But seriously though?"
"I'm not kidding," I replied with a face set in sorrow, "I died half a month ago."
"Wow!" her face lightened somewhere between shock and awe, "I'm assuming it has something to do with these then."
She gestured to my bandages and I nodded.
"I'm on the tail of the man who killed me. Given a day, Benny—"
"Benny? You're hunting a man named Benny?" She exclaimed as she whirled around to face me.
"You know the name?" I asked, my own voice laden with the very same was truly surprising.
"He wouldn't have been wearing a checker suit like Bugsy Siegel?"
I had no idea what a Bugsy Siegel was, but I nodded either way.
"He came through here less than a day ago, skulking in the backdrop like a bunch of coyotes. Plus, I think I recognized him."
"Do tell."
"He's the Head Chairman at the Tops Casino."
That sent bell tollings in my head as the pieces began to come into place. The package I was delivering was supposed to go to Vegas. The Khan recording stated that 'Benny' had stolen it from his Boss and 'Benny' was the boss of a very powerful family. The only one who'd be at his head had to be…?
"House," I whispered audible only to me save for the movement of my lips.
"Sorry?" She asked.
"Just thinking out loud. I'm sorry I didn't catch your name."
She smiled slightly, brushing away some of her hair.
"Veronica Santangelo," she began, extending her hand, "I live in a hole in the ground."
"Gideon Maddox," I replied, taking her hand gently, "I live on the road. Wait go back a second, 'a hole in the ground?'"
"Well it's a bunker if you want to get technical, but I think it sounds better that way. I don't go there much anymore, so I'm out here getting groceries."
"A bunker, eh? You from a Vault?"
"Well, kinda sorta." She replied shrugging, "Let's just say it's a pretty big family, but I've been grounded at the moment."
"Uh huh."
I felt like I'd just jumped into the middle of some kind of drama with no idea who anybody was or how things got started. Before I could get any further with my deductions, ED-E came into the scene.
"Beedit-beep?"
"He sleeping okay, buddy?"
He nodded once, but then he turned towards Veronica and I could've sworn if he had a face he would've been creasing his brow staring at her. She on the other hand had a finger on her lips as her eyes bubbled wide and staring like a kid in a candy shop.
"Did you build him?" she finally asked, and I shook my head.
"Nope. I found him and fixed him up over at Primm. I had to dig a .308 round out of him, but it didn't go so far."
She had an 'hmm' face and then she beckoned the robot over. He looked at me and I nodded. She began to turn him about and forth, inspecting him every bit as she could.
"I take it you know a thing or two about robots?"
"Well, technical things in general. You told me he took a .308 round?"
"Two actually. One just dented."
"That actually makes quite a bit of sense. He's got a highly advanced West Tek miniaturized power armored shell. And this here," she pointed at the underbelly, "is a General Atomics Anti-Gravitation field emitter, but it's far more advanced than what you'd see on a Mr. Gutsy, the antennae are highly advanced sensor devices that allow perfect 360* detection and that is a miniaturized AER-14 Laser…"
This went on for about a minute, and ED-E looked like he was just absorbing the attention. If he had lips; it would've been stretched into a very, very wide smile. She was talking a thousand a minute, so I finally put my hand to her shoulder:
"Whoa, slow down professor. Any faster and your lungs will explode."
She was panting now, but she gave me a rather rueful smile:
"Sorry, I start and I don't stop."
"Either way, that is an incredibly impressive display of robotic knowledge Ms. Santangelo."
"Veronica if you please. Still though, he is perhaps the most advanced robot that I've seen!" She replied with the widest grin I'd ever seen.
"Now how the hell do you know so much about robots?"
"Ah a little there, and a lot in a book."
"Uh huh."
It was obvious she wasn't giving me the full story. I could remember the dozen times I had taken apart different bots so I could learn how to take them out without damaging their 'organs', even then I did not know nearly half of what she knew about robotics. That meant it had to be taught over years; not learned over a few occasions. However there weren't many groups out there that would've offered that degree of training.
"Hey can I ask for some advice?"
"Oh?" this was going somewhere interesting, "me for advice?"
"Yes you, Mr. Eye-patch pirate," she replied with a scornful, half hearted grin that just made me laugh before she could get my attention again, "You seem like you've been places. Ever had a run in with some folk called the Brotherhood of Steel?"
That seemed to unlock another slide to add to the collection in my abused mind. Images of soldiers wearing armor the equivalent of walking tanks carrying rayguns started playing on grainy slideshows. If from what I could gather; I'd been on both the good and bad side of things with them. Mostly bad… with them shooting at me. The thought of it brought a tune to mind… something called Benny Hill from some old old silent film.
However, an important piece seemed to shine out above everything else:
"They are particular dangerous," I replied diplomatically, and carefully, "but they carry a rather odd sense of honor with them. They generally leave you alone unless you got something that they want."
"Then I shouldn't have a need to worry about that then," as she spoke, that odd cheerfulness there, I watched the movement of her eyes and subtle vibration of muscles along the sides of her face, "I wouldn't be able to afford anything like that."
Before I could probe any further, a groan came from the tent.
"Stay here!" she called over her shoulder as she ran back into the tent. Naturally, I did the exact opposite, approaching with care and eavesdropping on the conversation inside:
"Go with him V."
"What!? No I won't leave—"
"Veronica, I had a dream. About him."
"A dream?"
"I know why you're here, V. You've been like the sister I've never had, but I know why you're really here."
"Kid, I—"
"It's okay. He's the answer, to you, me and everyone else. He's going to change the future."
"Kid… how did you get this dream?"
"An angel told me."
That did it. I storm into the tent, brushing aside Veronica exclamations and knelt next to the child. I only need to ask one word:
"Arcanum?"
"Yes," he replied with an exhausted grunt, weary and ill stricken, "If you know him, then you know why."
Over the past half month, I'd been thrown into a whirlwind of questions that constantly sent me places that I didn't want to go. Places stranger than the last. Right now I needed some answers, but now I was only getting more questions. This was starting to piss me off.
"Why I'm alive?" I guessed.
"Why you're needed," he answered; his paled eyes shifting to the dumb stricken robed woman who stood behind me, "And that is why you need to go with him. Him and the rest, and the many more to join you the in future."
I didn't need to turn to know the face forming behind me. I felt for her. It was obvious the two were close. Part of me wanted her to stay, but I knew that wasn't going to be possible. That was when the child before me smiled: a smile that bore deep into my soul and let its mark.
"Go," he said weakly, "go and get acquainted."
A tense moment followed, broken by ED-E's beeped response to the whole situation that I swore sounded like 'What the shit?' I couldn't help but laugh; little did I know how contagious it would be…
Boone
I found her in her usual spot. Woman of habit.
"Sgt. Carpenter!" I called out at the old deuce-and-half. A moment later, the 'arms merchant' popped her head out from the cab.
"Well, I'll be damned. Boone you old bastard!"
Avione Carpenter was my go to person when it came to weapons. Always had some of the best. At least in comparison to the Gun Runners... She jumped from the back of the truck and we shook hands. Still hadn't change.
Still had the fire that made her a good soldier. Also what got her discharged.
"So what'll be today? Huntin' some more Legion? Got some nice hollow points for ya if you want it."
"Not today. Selling some gear instead."
On que, Cass lugged the duffle bag over at our feet. Took a second, but then that old rye smile came to Carpenter's face again.
"Well I'll be. Quite a find here—and who might you, missy?"
"Name's Cass," the Cowgirl replied, shaking hands with Carpenter firmly, who in turn threw me that smile. The kind when she's about to indulge in mischief.
"So how the hell'd you end up with an old sourpuss like this? You don't look a merc or a prospector."
"Caravaner, actually. And we had a mutual… acquaintance.
"Not here on pleasure, Carpenter. Business."
"Right," she said sarcastically, turning her back to pick up a clipboard, "so where you two headin'?"
"Boulder City," Cass answered, "helping a friend hunt down some pretty boy outta Vegas."
"And afterwards? Vegas, I'm assuming?"
Cass gave me a look. An odd look. I shrugged.
"Probably," I answered. She nodded and then retrieved a table from the truck. Minutes passed. Started inspecting what we had, and what we had seemed to impress her.
"Lotsa blades here. Plus some lever-actions and other odds and ends. I approve. 'Suming you got this from Caesar's hitmen?"
I simply nodded. Never told her about my hunts and she never asked. Always strictly professional. Part of why I liked her.
"Alright, so what's the price tag?"
"Well, you've got three Lever-Actions here worth their polish, another six I could use for scrap. Plus this here boomstick—" she held up the sawn-off double barrel, "a couple of .40's… I'd say about three-five hundred."
"Sounds decent 'nough," Cass judged, "got nything fer sale by chance?"
"Yeah, couple of things," she reached behind and hefted a massive wooden crate onto the table, "plenty of guns and ammo if you want any."
A cascade of weapons was then spread over the table. There, the Walther MPK 9mm. Little light for my taste, might still come in handy though. Folded the stock to the brim and placed it under my coat. Fits well enough.
Carpenter gave me a look, and I nodded. Opened another box and removed a shoulder harness. Then an ammo box and handed me six stick mags. Remembered it used the same ones as the M76. Note to remember when we hit Freeside.
"Whoa!" I heard Cass say. Turned my head and found her hefting an M-79 Thumper. Been a while since I'd seen one. Back a little after Hoover, Ranger team were using one during a Search and Destroy. Saw a look on the gunner, scared me a little.
Heard his squadmates called her Mad Bomber. Same look that Cass has now.
"Nothing more dangerous than a woman with explosives," Carpenter grinned, beating me to the punch, "ever used one?"
"Nope. But I'ma fast learner. Gotta ask though, how the hell you get this much firepower?"
Reasonable question. Most of the gear here was military. Or was meant to be military but never got the chance. Knew why, but she explained anyway:
"Used to be a Staff Sergeant with the 3rd of Bravo Company, but I got discharged 'bout a year ago for… insubordination."
"Insubordination?"
"LT wanted me to flog a bunch of 'deserters'. They'd just gotten liquored up on the Strip and missed roll call. I told him to eat shit and I ended up here."
"Figures," Cass growled. Look on her face, she wasn't surprised. She'd seen this before.
"What'd ya expect from a bunch of kids? They're green as hell and only get a couple weeks of boot before they're shipped out here!"
"Last I was back in California," Cass continued, "the shit-for-brain Governors back in Shady Sands were trying ta push a new draft age for 17."
Heard about that from some FNG's who'd passed through town a couple months back. Wasn't surprising. Barely have enough Rangers to man their forward outposts, let alone standard grunts.
"Vegas is bleeding us dry," Carpenter replied, adding fuel to my thought, "Caesar's bidding his time while we throw our guys at a hundred different problems. This war is gonna bankrupt the Republic… Hell some of the new guys don't even have body armor! So I hook up with a couple other vets, bribed a Gunrunner and started selling what I could."
"Such as this," Cass held up the grenade rifle, "where'd you get this?"
"Got 'em off of surplus back at McCarran. Fuckin' Merry Poppins there confiscate so much 'unofficial' gear from their supply officer there that you could outfit an entire battalion. Had a friend from logistics who sends me stuff whenever he can. Ain't much, but I hope we can atleast save some lives while those savages sharpen their sticks across the Colorado. We should be sticking a boot up Caesar's ass instead of sitting on ours here."
Cass
Took me about a minute, but I figured out the breach load works the same as a single shot shotgun. Feels strange, holdin' this much firepower all in one hand. Coulda used somethin' like this back years ago in Baxter's Canyon. Or back in the Hopeville. Well, back when there was a Hopeville.
Word was that entire stretch of land just… well, exploded. Turned into the Divide that most know it today. Land even the Legion wouldn't wanna go through even with Hell on their tails. Nobody knows why it happened. But when it did, it cut off the shortest route possible from California to here.
Why am I think 'bout this? What Carpenter said. Don't disagree, but she hasn't seen what I've seen. Been far east 'nough ta know just what the Legion does best. Fear.
Whole towns surrendering to the Legion 'cause they're worse than any bunch of dumbass raiders. Enslaved course, but there as safe as houses. Nobody touches their property lest they wanna lose everythin' else. Even whole caravans will sign up with the Legion because their roads are at least safe. Plus no road taxes, no check points, no contraband searches.
NCR's my country. Would gladly die for her, but... we're killin' ourselves. We create a thousand different problems everywhere we go. Gamble lives of men on simple greed. Expand without fuckin' looking back on the cost.
On top of that: the Republic's divided. She probably knows it too. Redding, the Hub, Shady Sands, the rest of 'em. They ain't in it for the Republic, they're in it fer them themselves. They fight amongst themselves, screw each other over while everyone out here, the frontiers, gets the shaft end of it. Don't fuckin' care; long as the power and caps keeps on comin' in.
All that shit there… maybe that's the reason I'm still here. Why Boone or Carpenter or everyone else is still here. Some call it patriotism. Not really, we're here 'cause it's less shitty here than it is anywhere else. But that's gonna change real soon.
Wish the Legion would just kick the NCR in the jewels. Get 'em back where it needs to be. But even then it won't work. Christ, I'm thinkin' too much. I need a drink.
"How much fer this?"
Gideon
We found ourselves once more outside leaning on the banister; a cigarette held in either of our hands, smoke trailing away into the cold night.
"Angels, huh?" she stated, taking puff from the burning roll, "Under normal circumstances, I'd find it all very exciting!"
"Exciting? I'd say dangerous." I replied darkly.
"And why's that?" she asked with a half smile. I shrugged.
"I met Arcanum when I was about to be scorpion food. I met Advena when I was being used for machete practice. When they show…" I paused, taking a whiff, and then continuing, "It's not for good reasons."
"Heh, still though," she chuckled, keeping up that deceptively happy face, "exciting."
"There is nothing in this verse that can dampen your spirit, is there?"
"Nope."
I had to laugh at that, no other alternative, just laugh. But eventually, it had to come down to this. I silenced the glare of my cigarette and turned to face her.
"All right, down to business."
"What business?"
She cautiously blotted out her cigarette, and took a step to the side. She had instinct. Now I needed to know what else she had up her sleeve.
"You are obvious a very smart, and if I do say so myself, very pretty woman," I began with a curtful respect, earning a blush from her, "But I'm going to be heading into some very dangerous country."
"Well," she smile a moment, and her eyes trailed down to her robe, "I like punching things. I might say I have a talent for it."
Uh. That was unexpected. Okay, time to put your money where your mouth is.
"Punching things…" I mused, and then I struck. I had no intention of actually hurting her, I just threw a fast roundhouse aimed just little above her head. A split second later I felt and heard a thud, but not the kind I was looking for. She'd blocked my arm, a very good and strong block, as an inward smile started to crease her face. I placed more pressure into my arm, but hers held firm.
I dropped back into a combat stance; my hands held loose. She did so as well; her smile widening as the two of us began to circle. She was stronger than I had given her credit for and she knew the rules of a fight. I watched her every movement, and then I prepped a feign with my hand. I then jabbed with my other, and she weaved to her left.
So she was fast, too. I advanced, and she treaded back. I threw another punch and she ducked to her right. I decided to end this game so I struck with a barrage of jabs and roundhouses. She just kept dogging and weaving.
She's had training. I shifted stance, feigned a jab, and then threw a fast ball to take her down. She saw it coming because she arched left, dodged my punch and then proceeded to push me to the side. I righted myself, just in time to block an incoming roundhouse. She then followed up with an attempted low blow to which I then blocked and countered.
She in turn counter blocked, but that was exactly what I wanted her to do. As she began to follow up; I spun and smacked her over the top of her head and stunned her for a second. Despite this, she then naturally dropped into a roll, came up and mounted a stiff defense to my advance. I kept up the pressure; knowing she could not keep blocking me forever. Then I found an opening: her right leg was starting to slack so I whip my leg around in for a kick.
Suddenly she dropped low, block my leg and then I felt a heavy fist slam right in and under my ribs. The wind was knocked out of me, my insides jiggled like jell-o and I could feel myself hovering off the ground. My world went into slow motion and I felt every stretch of pain like jabbing needs begin to pinprick my entire chest until it spread to my neck and then to my groin. Then like a shatter crescendo I hit the ground which just flared the burning feel into an inferno. I couldn't breathe; I felt a lead weight holding my lungs down with an overwhelming force.
"Easy," she soothed as she knelt beside me and placed a heavy hand on my chest, "that was a nerve cluster on your dosal gangalia. Take slow and easy breathes."
I took the advice. Bit by bitter bit, my breathing began to return to its regularity.
"You… are… teaching… me… that… move." I rasped at the still smiling Veronica, almost to the point of mocking…
Cass
"So 300 fer the Seventy-Nine, plus 168 for 6 40mm HE's, 2 Incendiary and 3 Plasma. Then throw in 650 fer the Walther you've got, and another 96 in ammo… plus 144 in Gideon's .45's…"
"Carpenter's good on her word," Boone interrupted, throwing off my mental count, "no need to… do whatever it is you're doing."
I glared at him from cross the table.
"First off, Mr. Shades-all-the-Time, don't tell me what I should and shouldn't ought ta do. Second, what I'm doing is called balancing yer accounts."
"Okay, I still don't—"
"In short, I'm ensuring we ain't being swindled here for a dime less. And yeah, I know you trust her, but the prime rule of thumb in caravanning is always watch your wallet."
"Are you always this… meticulous?"
I gave him a wry 'ol grin.
"When it comes ta caps, water, shells and whiskey? Yes, always. Now where was I?"
I peered back at my hand scribbled notes. Handwritin's atrocious, but least I can read it. I've using this old leather blank book fer a couple of years now. Hell, could even find when and how I'd started my caravan just by going back far 'nough… Ah here we go.
"Now add in meds, general-other-necessary-shit, whiskey… another 300… little 'bove 1,900 in change."
With that done, I finally allowed myself a spirit or two from good 'ol El Diablo. Grabbed a couple shoties and tossed one over ta Boone. He looked at me funny.
"Don't drink."
"What, let me guess; ya don't smoke either?"
He shrugged.
"Well now yer in my company, so live a little. Not like it's gonna kill yer liver in the first go. That's what Tequila for. So c'mon and have a go."
He stared at me fer, oh 'bout 7 seconds, 'fore he took my offer. He sputtered and coughed a little after the first. Couldn't help but smile a little.
"Good huh? When's the last time you'd had a drink?"
"Back on the Strip… life time ago."
"Ah well you've got some tougin' up ta do. Here," I grabbed his shot and filled it to the brim, "have another."
I looked up at him and I froze. Boone was starin' past me, and the look on his face was like the face of death. A long time ago kind of death. Quickly I went fer the .40 at my hip and swung in my chair.
"Whoa Cass easy! It's just me!"
"And who's that with you?"
"Hi, I'm Veronica!"
Boone
It couldn't be. Not here, not now. I—she looks… exactly like her. How? Why?
My mind went over the memory. The one I'd kept buried deep below the surface. I could see her, in the scope. See her looking right at me, seeing me. The look—I can't get it out of mind.
I couldn't even feel the recoil. Couldn't even feel anything. I—I could only her. Watch her fall to the ground. Down into a pool of red.
Why? Why are you doing this to me? I don't understand.
"Boone? Ya okay?"
Her voice felt miles away. Like an echo. I felt numb. Couldn't feel anything, can't feel anything. Just like…
That night.
"Is he alright?"
Voice. Drew me right back towards her. Sounds like her, the voice. The voice that haunts me at night. Voice that will always haunt me.
Everything about her… her heartshape face. Her cropped black hair. Her slender neck. The eyes… only thing different. Carla had blue eyes.
She has green.
"Boone, are you alright?"
"No," couldn't even hear myself say it, "I… I need to take a walk."
I only knew I was moving 'cause I could see it. Saw myself grabbing Red Hunter from the table. Instinctual. Just kept walking until I was out of sight.
Gideon
"Did I do something wrong?" Veronica asked me sheepishly. I shook my head.
"No… Boone's gone through a lot," I replied, watching the sniper round the corner, "No. It was nothing you did."
"Well, I don't want to exactly rock the boat."
"Well now," Cass jumped in, "Yer certainly gathering us up faster than a flush in a poker game. Might even start call us a caravan now."
"A caravan?" Veronica laughed, "If it's a caravan, where's the cattle?"
"Don't need cattle," I interrupted, "got a truck instead."
That sent the ladies in a laughing spree. I would've joined them, but my mind was still focused on Boone. He was starting to worry me now.
"So we've got a robot, scruffy lookin' amnesia man, broody sniper—and me. Drunk washout with a shotgun! So, what do you do?"
"I punch things."
"Nice. Good addition. Well I'm Cass."
"Veronica. Mind if I have some of that?"
"Don't mind me. More the merrier, girl."
"Thanks it's been a long night."
Nope, can't stand it anymore. I've gotta go find him.
"Right, you two get acquainted. I'm going to go find Boone."
I brush past the table, instinctively knowing ED-E was on my six. I didn't even hear Cass's remark. Probably something smartass like. I went past the shack that Boone disappeared behind and took a look. There was the road, a couple of tents to the right and a lot of the hills to the left.
No sight of him, though. And knowing his background, I would probably blend really well with the shadows. Then ED-E nudged me on the shoulder.
"What is it, buddy?"
" Oooh… lookin' on the map… lookin' on the map! "
"The map? Oh, the Sensorium!"
Smart thinking. This late at night there wouldn't be a whole lot of people moving around. Plus on open ground with ED-E around; I knew I'd have about a 50 yard range. I flipped up the Pip-Boy and pulled up the motion tracker. Sure enough, at about my 8 o'clock and about… 15 yards out… yep, there's only one blip.
"Found him. C'mon, let's go get him."
It took us less than a minute to reach him. There he was, sitting on a rock staring out at the Black Mountain. What the hell was he doing?
"Boone!"
"Gideon."
"What ya doing, man?"
"Don't worry about me," he finally turned around and faced me, "Not going to off myself anytime soon."
"That's not very comforting, Boone. C'mon man, what happened back there?"
"Nothing you need to worry about."
"Not good enough this time," I replied sternly, but comfortingly… if that's even possible, "I gotta know what happened. You practically froze and then walked out like you were in a trance. What'd you see back there?"
"Gideon…"
"Boone, think about it from my perspective. I need to know if this going to happen in the field, say we're under fire. And don't tell me it won't because I'm getting the feeling this has happened before. Look we're all alone out here. Just you and me… well 'cept ED-E but I doubt he's gonna tell anybody."
" 'Cause you know my lips are… oh so very sealed! "
He looked up at me and then at ED-E. Then he sighed and looked down at the ground.
"Don't know why but… Veronica? That her name? She… she looked almost exactly like Carla."
Uh oh.
"What was her surname?"
"Sorry?"
"Carla. What was her surname?"
"Kennedy."
"Hers is Santangelo. Don't worry she's not some twin or clone or whatever. So that set it off?"
"Yeah, I guess. I just… remembered."
Part of me wanted to keep going. To keep digging and find out what lay at the bottom of this mind shaft. But that wasn't why I'd run all the way over here for. I was here to bring him back from the brink, not push him over.
"Boone," I took a seat across from him on another rock, "you don't need to push any of us away. May not seem it, but you can at least trust me. If you need to let any of this out… you needn't look any further."
"It's not that I don't trust you," he replied grimly, "I've lived so long with this that I don't know what else to do with it."
"Well now you've got choices. You're not a lone wolf anymore Boone. You've got a team this time. And we try not to keep secrets from each other."
"Like you?"
"Hey, I've got an excuse. I don't remember anything. But look, you keep me in the loop with whatever is going on with you, and you'll be the first to know if something on the psychic disposition comes up. Deal?"
He stared at me for a long while before he reached out his hand and shook mine.
"Deal."
