Hi, so I'm like the aunt you haven't seen for years but now she's come home for Thanksgiving, with a new face tattoo, and your dad's like 'Gosh dang it, Meredith, a face tattoo? What would mom think?!' and she just laughs and flips her hair, probably drunk, probably still drunk from the flight home, and flips your dad off - and your dad's so mad he has to excuse himself to have a smoke outside in the freezing cold. Your dad never smokes. Not even when the Cubs lost that one time he thought they were really gonna win.

Oh and Aunt Meredith has bought you home this cool new chapter of a story that's about 6 years old now.

Cool huh? Thanks Aunt Meredith.

The wind slipped and pooled through the cracked windows of the trailer home. Annie shifted on her mattress, eyes gluey and swollen as they cranked open. A raven cawed from somewhere in the distance, and the familiar smell of burnt sand breathed gently on her face. She sat up, welcomed with the heavy weight on her shoulders that she had been carrying for days. The muscles in her neck ached – she must have slept funny.

Boone heard her rise, tipped off by the thunk of the worn springs of the mattress. He had been silently dreading her arrival into consciousness – because then the day would be starting. He wasn't sure if he was ready yet – he wasn't sure if he was ever going to be ready. The whole thing had awakened an anxiety inside of him that he had left alone for such a long time. Was it ever going to be the right time to face his demons? They slept so comfortably beside him, feeding only on him when they wanted. It was only when he struggled against them did they punish him.

Parked in the stairway to the outside world, Boone had curled up like a tired cat. His elbows dug into the tops of his thighs, a cigarette burning between two fingers that stained them a horrid yellow. A sickening chill rolled over him. He'd never be ready, would he?

He took his eyes from the red sand that rolled across the flat in front of him, taking all the strength in him to turn to face Annie – the wind rustling through the camper pulling at her dark hair like puppet strings. Once again, he was reminded why he was there with her and his heart ached. Why now, after all this time, was he ready to face his past and future? Because she was her. It made so much sense to him and almost none at all.

Annie still looked small and hurt against the rusted tin, the morning sun shining through the holes that had rotted out behind her. She licked her lips, her wet tongue getting stuck on the dry skin. Something felt off to her. Something was writhing gently inside of her like a moist pile of flesh slowly forming a body. It didn't seem so scary anymore, as if the air had something in it that fed whatever was growing. She felt safe. She felt sore and tired and at the end of her tether, but she felt safe.

"They've been watching us." Boone noted gently, as if he would scare her. She grimaced softly, running a tired hand through her hair and getting caught in all the knots. "They'll send a word down soon if we don't make a move."

"We'll go now, unless you need more sleep?" She wanted to crawl up to him and soak up his sadness, as if it was what he deserved. The anger that festered in her was dampened by that writhing pile in her gut. What was it? She wanted to squeeze him so tight that it hurt him, and while she was there she would pull out every part of him that was falling apart.

"I'm fine. Let's go."

Gilles wouldn't let them in at first. It was like the first time she had seen a ghost – eyeing off Boone as if he were a land mine. The woman had been carrying her guilt and her compensation had always been simple – she was to be the Ferrymen of all the refugees, sailing them to the quiet end of their life inside the canyon she haunted herself. Boone was a stark reminder of why she was there. It almost shocked her back to life.

It wasn't him that worried her. It was a big step for him to come back and relive those moments – and she understood that with no problems. It was his wild-looking friend, with her hair all mussed-up and eyes shining with something she couldn't quite put her finger on. Gilles knew who she was, of course she did; news had always traveled well across the radio waves and down the canyon grape – and suddenly she understood all the chatter very well. There was a terrifying presence to the woman that bathed in Boone's shadow.

Annie had offered her a good word with Crocker. In the back of her mind, it was obvious to Gilles that Crocker wouldn't do shit for her – and to believe that Annie's boot was that heavy on Crocker's throat was a shameful thought. If she was any more optimistic, Gillies might have believed her when she promised. But she let them wander. For Boone.

The two lonely figures wandered back to the ridge. For Annie, the Tail gave her a fond feeling that wrapped her up in something familiar. Boone's body was cringing with repulsion though, toes clenched in his boots with every step forward he took. His companion kept going without him, scaling up the front of it without any trouble. As her fingers tucked into the ridges between the rocks, Annie felt a little bit closer to home. Hoisting herself up over the lip to crawl through the dirt, just because it felt like the right thing to do, she followed Boone with her eyes as he walked around the base.

He appeared over the rise and she rolled onto her back to feel the sun brush her face. Her arms spread out beside her and she shuffled deeper into the build-up of desert sand beneath her back. It felt right.

Boone was still reeling from the sickness that was washing over him in waves – his gaze rolling over the distance with his usually keen eye. Christ, he swam in his own guilt, not to fussed to tread water, they put the grave yard here.

He stopped himself where he had been before, kneeling in the place that felt familiar. Annie was rubbing herself in the dirt like a content molerat, spitting up dust to blur his vision. For a moment he felt like he was back there, with the clacking of gunfire and the pitch of screams from the canyon. But all was quiet, except for the solid whoosh of wind that found his ears.

"Hey," Annie muttered at him after she had buried herself as good as she could manage. "Are you okay?" It felt impossible to summon anything but calm. She wasn't there for that moment; Boone's moment. It would have been different if she had been. Bitter Springs, even if coupled with the rigors of disgust that broiled in her stomach, took away her nerves. It was home. It was familiar. It felt like she was okay there, even if the wind still carried faint whispers that sounded a little too close for comfort.

He didn't answer, so she sat up and turned to him – caught off guard by the faraway look in his eye and the tremor in his hand. Her figure, and the face he had fallen so in debt to, sat in front of him as if she was there that day – and the worry in her eyes made his heart want to blow up and wither away. Only the man in the sky knew what he had done to deserve this kind of repentance.

"We'd been sent here from Camp Golf. Trailing some Khans' who had been making trouble with one of our settlements." Boone could barely hear his own voice over the throb of his own pulse pounding in his ears. "It was… the only escape. So we set up to guard it while the main force attacked from the front."

Annie watched him, brown eyes flickering over his face. Her mouth twisted slightly, arms curling to hug her knees.

"We figured it was a gang hide out." His breath felt sharp, throat torn and brusque with pain. "They'd led us to their home."

"I think my father died here." She told him as she glanced back towards the canyon. Her voice carried in the wind. "I'm not sure. I never asked. I know my mother died before this. After I left." They sat quiet for a moment as the wind tousled Annie's hair, the sun picking up strands of it with a faint glint. "Why?"

"… Why?"

"Why did you do it? Didn't you think it was wrong?"

He thought for a moment.

"Standing orders were to shoot on sight."

"Orders?" She scoffed at him over her shoulder.

"In the field," He started, as if he could even imagine defending himself against her icy stare, "You hesitate, you or someone you care about will die. They teach that from day one."

The wind heaved, rustling through the brush below them.

"It was all wrong, though. Women, kids, elderly. Wounded started coming through, too." The words slipped from his mouth like a dying man's final vomit. Annie's eyes grew glassy and wet. "We radioed to confirm our orders but command didn't get what we were seeing. They told us to shoot till we were out of ammo."

"So that's what you did?" She spat at him.

"So that's what we did."

A weird noise escaped her mouth and she turned her back on him.

"Of course."

The sun had reached the middle of the sky and Boone felt like he had been wrung out to dry. Annie was off, as he expected her to be. He could never blame her for that. What he'd done, he could never have imagined, felt worse for her than it was for him. For so long he had wallowed in his own guilt, and now he had finally shared it with someone else. Even though he had told her all he could manage, and even with the horror that had glazed over her usually cheerful stare, the roaring in his ears still hadn't stopped. He didn't feel any better. Even though this is what they both had wanted.

She was quiet, thoughtful, perusing the crosses that marked the graves up towards the canyon. It was sickening for him. It had nailed it home for the both of them. He was the reason some of those crosses were there.

Annie's fingers were twitching, spasms running up her arms as her nerves began to shiver.

"Children." She breathed after what felt like an absolute eternity. The heat from the sky above started to niggle at the backs of their necks.

"Children." He returned.

"You paid your dues." Annie told him as her fingers bent and flexed beside her. Her mouth felt dry. "You paid with your own wife and child."

Her words knocked the air out of him and he felt the muscles in his chest seize with anger and horror and everything between those two worlds. He fought the urge to stare at her, the urge to scream at her, the urge to nod and agree… the urge to walk away, into the distance, to figure out everything he hadn't worked through yet. He had no right to be angry at her for how short she was with him. It wasn't like he hadn't already thought that himself.

"I…" His sentence drooled out as his brain sputtered for any form of clarity. "Annie." He grunted. "I don't think that's enough."

"I don't either." She told him, her sight zoning out as the crosses began to blur. "But you've saved my life more than a few times. And I think that matters." She kicked at the sand in front of a grave that read with nothing but crude scratches. "Especially to these people here."

Annie stared up into the canyon, her eyes glazing over in thought – and for a brief moment, Boone caught a glimpse of sunlight through the breaking clouds. His eyes fell on her face and a rush of something pushed forward in his chest. For a tiny, minuscule, moment he felt peace.

"C'mon," She suddenly turned back to catch his stare. "I want to show you something."

As if on a track, Annie weaved her way through the camp. Refugees sat huddled in groups, looking sickly and out of hope. It was hard to look at, but it sat in the back of her mind. It felt like all she did was look out for everyone else lately. It was time to be a little selfish, as if she wasn't already. Once she got back to The Strip, she told herself, she would lean on any resources she had to send some help.

But first she wanted to show Boone this cave that was digging into her memories. This cave had been calling to her ever since they had first walked in. Whilst Boone had been balking at all of his horrid memories, Annie was overwhelmed with everything she had ever felt in the tiny little canyon where she had spent her early years. Every notch in the canyon walls gave her something to go on, a taste of something that pulled her in deeper. Every step, every smell, every twist in the current of the wind…

Faintly, as if it was just a faded dream, Annie could remember seeing the what felt like the whole world from the mouth of this cave. The women of the Khans' would often travel up there to sort out the stockpile, curing the meat and collecting the fungus that grew in the dark, dank corners of the cavern. She felt a fondness for it, finding it hard to find a solid memory but feeling welcomed by the emotions it brought forth to her. For years it felt like she had been running from that place – to come back was like being able to breathe again.

"I'll meet you up there." She said as she tucked her palm into a notch in the rock wall – hoisting herself off the ground. Boone, who was usually a strong, sturdy man, was not as agile as Annie and as he watched her disappear up the rock face, his gut sank at the idea. "There's a trail around the side!" She called out, already out of his reach. "This way's faster, though!"

He started off towards the rise and Annie continued her climb, tucking her boots into tiny ledges and swinging herself up as high as she liked. It felt good – she felt so good! Today was really beginning to suck but the muscle memories that sprung forth seemed to make it better. She'd done this for years – whatever it really was, whatever it could be. It just felt right to be there, and maybe a little part of her felt pleased that Boone was there with her.

Was he an inherently evil man? She couldn't picture it. She could be boiling with anger at his past mistakes, but she knew him, right? She'd been with him nearly every day since they had met, and he never made her feel like he was any better than her. He suffered, a lot - and he had become numb to every bit of happiness he had come into, rejected it, and yet he still stayed beside her – as if the act of it wasn't pure agony. Maybe he felt he owed her something? He never made her feel like that. If he was sticking around, it wasn't because she was a Khan. He told her that.

A piece of rock crumbled beneath her grip and she slipped a little, heart jumping. Shaking the dust from her hand, she continued, pulling herself up further towards solid ground. A flat palm reached the sandy top, and she lugged her body over the edge, pushing with the tips of her boots to make it over. That felt good. She felt good.

Annie crawled up from her hands and knees, pushing up with her thighs to stagger upright. Catching a glimpse of Boone further down the path, she waved at him over her shoulder as her attention drew her into the darkness of the cave. The wind tunneled itself in its mouth, roaring at her in warning. Annie went further, pulled by the soft light of a single lamp – sitting on an old crate branded N.C.R.

Someone was living in there. Annie's stomach cramped uncomfortably at the idea, suddenly hyper-aware of everything around her. There was a soft dripping sound in the corner, the wind tickling at the pages of an opened book left abandoned by a bed roll. A small fire was pressed-in by a cooking pot, crackling and popping softly as it started to die out. Gilles hadn't mentioned anyone living in the hills. As far as the camp below was concerned, they were alone for miles.

Her shoulders seized at the intrusion – whoever was in there was probably still around.

"Now you ain't with the NCR – you ain't ndressed like a fuckin' idiot." A morbid voice grumbled from behind her, and out of instinct her arms raised beside her head. "How the fuck did you find me?"

"I…" Her voice drawled, suddenly a little panicked. "I used to live here."

"Yeah, I ain't fuckin' see you before. Turn aroun'."

Slowly, Annie spun herself to face the voice – greeted with the sight of a grizzled, miserable looking old man. He had a rifle aimed, safety off and ready to go, and Annie soon felt very vulnerable and not ready to die. She'd left her pack and sledge in the tent with Gilles – she didn't think she would need them here, as the place was a ghost town. Bile rose in her throat and she choked, eyes widening and shining with fear.

The man faltered for a second in recognition, eyes adjusted to the darkness, and let out a sick laugh.

"Ines." He grunted at her like she was the ghost living in his cupboard. The gun lowered and Annie cringed, confusion rising. "Fucking. Enzo. Where the fuck have you been?"

"I'm sorry." Annie forced out, blinking a few times in attempt to kick-start her brain.

"I've been here for a while, little girl—! 'Ve been waitin' for you all to come and take this fuckin' canyon back from those fucking idiots – livin' on in our home after what they did. Who else is here? Did Papa finally ngrow his dick back and sen' reinforcemen's?"

Her fingers flexed in air, eyes darting to the brightness of the cave mouth.

"Put your fuckin' hands down, you look nlike a fuckin' pussy. They done raised you silly after your daddy gave up – when did you get so soft? I always told daddy that he was too nice to you. They always said, Oscar, they're just kids. You were never just kids."

He looked wild against the firelight, his grey hair slicked to his forehead with sweat and grease. The words just kept tumbling out of his mouth. He hadn't seen anybody in so long. His face, familiar, gave Annie a bad feeling. She didn't feel safe around this man, and she'd dealt with some strange people over the last few months. Her throat struggled to swallow the lump that had formed.

"You gonn' fuckin' say somethin'? Where the fuck is everyone? I'm tired of waitin'! They just been sittin' down there, like they fuckin' own the place – like theyn done nothin' wrong and just had been steppin' on some bugs."

"Papa told me to tell you to come home." Annie blurted, shaken, not entirely sure of what was happening. The man seemed more erratic as the conversation continued. Who knows what would calm the guy? Boone, where was Boone? He'd know what to do.

"Fuckin' COME HOME!" He bellowed and Annie cringed. "This is our home."

A flash of red slithered into her field of sight and her gaze crept towards it, over the wild man's shoulders, resting on Boone's beret. He must have snuck in quietly at the sign of the tension inside. She instantly relaxed, her eyes returning to rest on the old Khan who was still mumbling about nonsense.

Oscar, who was still sharper than Annie expected, picked up the slump of her shoulders and spun around to find the NCR scum – firing a single rapid shot into the cave wall next to his steadied head. The sniper shrunk out of the way and Annie jumped back while the Khan readied himself for his next shot.

Annie took her chance and booted the man in the back, sending him sprawling into the dirt. The rifle buried its nozzle into the sand, Oscar rolling over to flail his legs for a moment before rocking forward to flip himself upright. Annie took a defensive stance, startled by the commotion, reaching for her knife that was tucked into her belt before being pelted in the eyes by a handful of sand.

It stung – the grit squeezed between ball and lid, and she let out a confused cry and stumbled backwards into a crate. A shot was fired and things were silent for a moment – Annie grunting over the stinging in her eyes before letting out a pained breath. Fuck, when was the last time she was on the receiving end of that old trick? Fighting them open, she begged her eyes to adjust, praying for some water.

"Annie?" Boone's voice reverberated above her, bouncing from the walls in an eerie echo. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good." She replied, twitching at the stabbing ache in her back from her impact with the crate. "Just got some shit in my eyes. I need water." She mumbled to herself, rolling like a stuck turtle. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." His voice grew closer, and his presence crouched down beside her. "He's dead."

Boone noted a thermos tipped next to a bed roll, reaching over Annie to retrieve it. He took a whiff of the fluid inside, a bit apprehensive at first – finding no smell. Then he stuck his pinky in, dipping it into the lukewarm liquid, and tasted it. Water. Good. Thank god. He wouldn't ever have mentioned it to blind Annie if it was anything else.

"Sit up." He told her.

"Water?"

"Yeah."

Annie pulled herself onto her elbows, blinking painfully – catching the blur of colour that was her companion flickering in the firelight not too far away. Boone reached over, pushing a bit of hair from her face before tipping her head back.

"I'm sorry he's dead." He said quietly as he poured the water over one eye. Annie flinched at the contact, fluttering the eye open.

"It's fine. He was crazy." Her dirty fingers pulled the lid down to let more water in, blinking out whatever was left.

"An old Khan?"

"Yeah." She flinched as he tipped again, this time for the other eye. "A Bitter Springs revenge mission." The grit began to move. "Ah shit, that hurt."

"I'm sorry." He said again, leaning his weight onto his thighs. That sick feeling was beginning to find him again, the adrenaline from the small firefight beginning to wear off.

"It's okay." Annie scoffed at him, blinking in Morse code. She pushed herself up right, water spilling down her front. Boone sat back, uneasy. "Seriously. Thanks for saving me. Again."

They sat for a moment in silence, avoiding eye contact. The supply cave suddenly felt very small, pushing in on them. The wind whistled outside, Boone shifting in his spot before digging the butt of the thermos into the dirt. He rubbed his hands down his face, pushing his glasses from his nose. He was so tired.

Annie sighed, brow relaxing before she reached out and patted him on the knee. "Hey, I was gonna show you something, right?"

They stood at the mouth of the cave, greeted by the fresh breeze that rolled across their bodies. You could see for miles, like Annie had hoped. It was beautiful, feeling the warmth of the sun on their faces as it started its first steps towards bed. Boone couldn't remember the last time he had felt so very alone, very tiny in the scope of things. It sickened him to know that a few years ago, he was looking into this place. Now he was looking out.

The woman beside him shifted, her eyes red and scratched and watering under the bright light. It still felt right though, bringing him here. It felt right being beside him. She nudged at his arm, looking up at him as well as she could.

"Boone," she said. "I'm glad we're here."

He couldn't bring himself to agree, so he just grunted at her. Her brow twitched in a slight of humor and she nudged him again, warmed by his presence. He hadn't lied to her to hurt her. He'd never hurt her on purpose. She felt that. As bad as he had been, he wasn't a bad man. She knew bad men, and he wasn't one of them. The thought lightened the load on her chest.

She crouched down into a sitting position, tucking herself into the warm sand. The breeze blew cold on her sweaty forehead, her hands reaching up to unzip her armor jacket a little to let the cool in. Tapping the back of his leg, Annie gazed up at him with a soft look on her face.

Boone sat beside her, lowering himself to her level. It felt wrong, being allowed here with her. After all he had done. To her. To Carla and to their baby. To innocent people who were just trying to survive. His stomach rolled in discontent. He thought maybe reliving it would help him cope – but he still felt just as awful as he did when he woke up that morning. Potentially even worse. He would've taken the numbness he had carried with him for those years right back if he could. He would have taken it back with open arms. At least he wouldn't be able to feel so rough and sharp and unhinged. He deserved it. God, he deserved it all and more. And he knew he didn't deserve Annie being so soft with him.

"I'd like to spend the night on the Ridge." He told her.

"Sure." She replied, her voice tinted with a kindness he felt repulsed by. Boone took a moment to glance at her, to properly look at her for what felt like the first time that day. This time he wasn't held back by all the horror around him, hoping to see her looking away, not paying attention to his moment of weakness. It was so wrong of him to still crave her intimacy, that inside all of the pain and the anguish he felt there was this small part of him that wanted her to just… be there. Fuck, she was always there. Even when she wasn't. Did that make sense? She had him so tangled up.

Blinking at the sudden eye contact, Annie smiled at him. It wasn't her usually happy, friendly smile. He could see the sympathy in her eyes. His nostrils flared with annoyance. He didn't deserve that! He never deserved any of it. He felt sick. He felt so sick and disgusted – everything was so loud and she was so quiet, forgiving, unnecessarily forgiving and he did not deserve this. He never… he never deserved…

"Hey," She started up again softly, slightly uncomfortable under his hard stare. "I'm gonna hug you now. And you're gonna take it. Even if its just for a second." She raised an arm, creeping it over his shoulder. "See, gently going to hug you. Nothing weird about it. I just want to."

Annie tugged him closer into her, curling her fingers around the crook of his neck. He let himself be pulled in, resting on her without complaint. Her heart jumped, pausing for a moment before she took the time to rest the tip of her nose into his stupid hat. Spare hand reaching up between them, she pushed it from his head and into the sand behind them. Next she targeted his glasses, pinching them at the bridge of his nose and sliding them off, placing them off to her side somewhere. She buried her face back into the short brush of his hair.

He felt very vulnerable, a little afraid. It was uncomfortable for a brief moment, his bare bicep sticking to her jacket, but the crisp touch of her fingers tickling his neck seemed to make it worth it. She pulled him in closer, a gentle hand cupping and rubbing his arm. It felt safe. Weirdly enough, it felt safe. He hid in the darkness of her chest, giving into himself for a moment, cooled by the whispering wind that curled around them.

She kissed the top of his head, squeezing him closer.

"I'm really glad you're here."

Soooo, I'm sorry this took so long. I'm gonna work on the next part now - I really don't know if I'll ever finish this story but hey, I had the inspo last night and I frickin' grabbed it with both hands and typed this sucker out. Hopefully I can get another one out. I love this story. Hope you're all well! I'd love to hear from you!