At a young age, children are incorrectly taught their bodies are in possession of five senses. Anyone can name them as they are the most prominent and obvious senses humans have.

Sight.

It stretches forever, past forever. An endless, broken road that taunts his vision with images of an end. But it kept going, Perry would see the markers of his captor directing him along the Lonesome Road.

Hearing.

The rustle of his feet, the swaying of ancient plants long dead. Radioactive wind howled into his ears and whatever blood remained in his body circled them, reminding him that he was still alive and walking the Lonesome Road.

Smell.

Dirt filled his nostrils and death followed them. Empty towns smelt of lost dreams, rotten food smelt of his failure. The road smelt of his lone journey, along the Lonesome Road.

Taste.

No water quenched his thirst, no food filled his stomach, his tongue and his nose filled with the same dirt and death. No words escaped his mouth, his voice was now forgotten. Perry walked in silence along the Lonesome Road.

Touch.

Pain… pain… pain. His skin was screaming at him. The wind tore at his body and the radiation sickened it. Was he turning into a ghoul? He didn't know. His face felt different but more scarred than peeled. Why couldn't he silence his skin? How would it feel to simply drop over dead? Maybe it would feel the same as this Lonesome Road… a journey alone.

What is often forgotten is the other senses human posses which we could not live without. Our sense of temperature, our sense of balance and, most important of all, our sense of time. Every other sense Perry possessed was screaming at him but time had slipped away. He would look back at his past and realise the memories were jumbled. He never purposefully flooded his dads sink when he was 5 did he? He didn't even know that was possible.

What about this journey? Could he remember where he even was at this time?

Perry thought back, he was walking along the road as he always was. A fruit basket appeared filled with food that he ravaged. A gift from his captor to keep him going. Then… what? A gigantic molerat the size of an elephant was rushing toward him. He couldn't move, any sense of self-preservation was gone. A bang was heard behind him and the monster collapsed. He weakly turned around and witnessed his captor casually walking away, his gun still smoking.

Protection. Sustenance. Guidance.

Was this his captor or his guardian angel? No… not guardian. Guardians protect their people from outside threats. This was a delivery and he was securing his cargos safety. Perry wondered what it would take to be free of this being. Could he escape?

Another memory appeared, he didn't know when it was. He was lying on the road with the sun burning his face and the road scorching his back. A shadow appeared above him.

"You can't walk out of your own story, kid." He felt himself be dragged to a small tent. His wounds healed, his exhaustion lifted. How and why he didn't know… or care.

He was walking again now. Was it the present? Must be, but it didn't feel any different than before… if there even was a 'before'. Is there even a world, is there even a 'him'? His senses screamed at him, but what was him? Where did the senses start and he begin? Perhaps he never began at all; he was a part of the world that tortured him either willingly or not.

Willingly or not….

Those words destroyed him once. They show he had no choice. Whatever plans he had were meaningless in the eyes of the world and the only choice he had… that anyone has… is willingly… or not.

Perry stopped. Feet obstructed his lowered vision. Looking up, the serious face of his captor greeted him. They stared at him for a bit, how long he didn't know. How long had it even been since he started this walk? Perry focused, his captor wanted something.

"You're there kid."

There? Where was there, where was here?

"You want to congratulate yourself then?"

Perry tried to speak. He pushed his vocal cords and wiggled his tongue. Nothing happened. He grasped his throat in panic, was something in there or had something gone missing?

"That's unfortunate. Seems you lost your voice. But then it's been almost a year since we last spoke back at Fertiliser Central. You've walked a long way and you can hold your thanks for me until after you finish your job."

Perry gave a confused look. Job?

The Stranger smiled and stepped to the side. Behind him lay a man facedown in the road with a pole piercing his body. A flag was strapped to the pole in what Perry assumed was triumph over this fallen man. With a confirming nod from the Stranger Perry limped to the body. He examined it and found to his shock the man was alive, if barely. Whatever happened must have done so less than an hour ago.

"Take care of him. Everything you've done, everything I've done has been for this swinger here. He's more important than either of us, and you're going to guide him."

Perry examined the pole's puncture and realised it was lucky enough to not pierce any of his internal organs. He looked up at the Stranger and realised he was long gone. In his place was a tent. Nodding, Perry slowly and carefully dragged the man into the tent. Inside was a trunk of medical equipment, drugs and a bed, most of which Perry would need to use on this man, whoever he was.

Things seemed focused now. He was exhausted and starving, but the very reason he was dragged along this journey was for this man. He had to focus, and his body responded. Perry went to work.

Two days passed as Perry nursed the man. He successfully removed the pole but found there was more that needed fixing. Several bones were broken, his nose included, and most of his chest and arms were heavily bruised. Whatever he was doing before Perry found him must have been ugly. He did everything he could and finally slept on the floor of the tent.

He woke up to the light of the sun piercing the tent door, weakly he got up and exited the tent for the first time since he entered. He looked out over the landscape. Hills and broken buildings scattered the wasteland, his tent stood alone on the wide road and must have looked extremely odd to any passerby. Where were they though? Was this place as empty and dead as it looked?

A large chunk of road was upheaved next to him, one of many along this cracked and broken road. He sat down on it. Sighing deeply he looked up at the sky. Blue? There was blue in the sky! Wherever he was must be cleaner than the East coast. The sun shone through the scattered clouds onto Perry, for the first time in so long the warmth comforted him rather than burnt him.

Perry's muscles relaxed. His breathing slowed. Closing his eyes he felt more at peace than he ever remembered feeling. It was in this silent Nirvana he heard groaning behind him. The creak of a bed being free of its burden. More groaning, and the sound of tent flaps slowly being pulled apart.

He didn't move. He kept his back on the one behind him and simply focused on his breathing. He would happily die now if it could be this peaceful. But whoever was behind him was studying him thoroughly. He could feel the gaze on his back as strongly as the light from the sun. There was a step… silence. Another. The man's breathing was irregular.

"Now what minister of fate would you be?" he spoke weakly, the bruises were still painful no doubt.

Perry slowly looked over his shoulder and smiled. He didn't know why, maybe because it was the first occasion in so long he had reason to smile. They looked at each other, Perry softly smiling and the stranger with confusion clear in his expression. He never noticed before but this man must have been in his early 30's. He was bent over, clutching his chest which was covered in bandages.

"Who are you?" he asked again. Perry opened his mouth but no words came. His smile vanished and he touched his throat. His captor was right, his voice was completely gone. Noticing this, the man raised an eyebrow.

"You can't talk? Well ain't that swell." He limped closer to Perry and studied him from the front. "Geez man, what the hell happened to you? You look like you're in worse shape than I am."

Perry looked down at his body and examined it for the first time. His mercenary armour had broken away in several places and some metal even looked like it fused with his skin. His pipboy was still working but was heavily scratched and had dust beneath the screen. He touched his face and felt all the cuts and scars that he must have gathered over his walk.

"You err… you have a name or something? Suppose you can't really tell me eh?"

Perry shook his head. He then pointed at the man and gave a quizzical look.

"Me? Name's Jesse… well not really, but I don't exactly go saying my real name."

Perry raised an eyebrow, or at least what would have been left of one. Jesse avoided Perry's look but would glance back awkwardly.

"Oh fine, fine. It's Jesus. Mother insisted I was to deliver some message to humanity like the big man did. Seems the only message I have is how to get the shit kicked out of me and be saved by some Silent Wanderer."

Jesse slowly and painfully sat down on the rock next to Perry. Groaning from the effort, he seemed to be doing his best to appear grateful. He noticed Perry's pipboy for the first time and pointed at it.

"That a pipboy? You're from a vault aren't you?"

Perry nodded. He used his finger to sketch out the number '101' on the rock they sat on.

"101 huh? Doesn't ring a bell, although I can't help but wonder exactly what you're doing outside your underground home."

Perry shrugged. He couldn't tell him even if he wanted to.

"But umm… not to appear ungrateful, I can't thank you enough don't get me wrong, but what exactly is your plan? Why do this?"

Perry didn't really know. He looked out over the horizon and glimpsed a figure in the distance. Jesse was watching Perry and so didn't notice the figure stretching out his hand and pointed west along the road. A small light hid the figure and when it cleared he was gone.

Perry looked back to his patient and pointed west along the road. Jesse noticeably gulped.

"W…west? You want us to go west, am I getting that right?"

Perry nodded. Jesse looked down at the ground and seemed to be thinking rapidly. His hand went up and touched the mark in his chest where the pole once pierced it. He looked back at Perry.

"Is there anyway I can convince you to go another way? Any other way?"

Perry shook his head. Jesse sighed in response.

"Well… you saved my life; I suppose I owe you a guide. I just hope you can fight pal." He clenched his side and his face contorted in pain. He slowly stood up and started limping towards the tent. "I'm just… gonna rest a bit. Still stings badly. Thanks again, stranger."

Perry watched him disappear into the tent and wondered just exactly what he was all about. He was running from something and it seemed Perry's job was to bring him back. He had become a courier and Jesse was his package.

A/N: Well I'm sure you guys can figure out who Jesse happens to be. Yes, this was my plan for this story for some time now, hopefully it won't be too lame that you guys can get some enjoyment from where I'm taking this. If you want to know what happens to Perry you'll just have to stay tuned. I'm enjoying writing this story and if you enjoy reading please let me know. Motivates me to write faster and maybe help me improve.

Thanks for reading, stay tuned.