Fallout 1. Preface

**_Note: _**_This is a rewrite of a story I had posted titled Moments After the Wind. After timeless reconsideration, I have opted to publish this rewrite. The first seven chapters are the same with a few things tweaked but mainly they are edited. Still, there are some spelling mistakes that I know I missed. Let me know and I will fix them when I get the chance._

**_Warning (s): _**_I__t's not really a warning but heavy use of the Animal Friend perk in most situations because I love all of the critters it affects. I will capitalize the names of creatures (like Gecko, Brahmin, Deathclaw, Mole Rat, etc) because I want to and I can. Don't like it? I don't really care, but I have seen unneccessary flaming for this. Excessive mentioning of gum drops, bubblegum, Sunset Sarsaparilla and Nuka Cola, eventually. Really it's a gradual incline that dives into the deep end of insanity. I work with what I got._

_I own nothing, save for my OC, her addiction to sugar and impulsive behavior. R&R please, flames and praise alike are welcome._

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><p><strong><em>Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail<em>**_**  
><strong>_**_her in so much and so many horrors; and_**_**  
><strong>_**_hereafter she may suffer - - both in waking,_**_**  
><strong>_**_from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams._**

_Bram Stoker, Dracula_

* * *

><p><em>Everything smells so new in the desert….<em>

_Maybe that's why I like it, it gives you a sense that you can start again around every corner…._

* * *

><p>There is a sharp ringing between her ears.<p>

She can't pin point where it started and she cannot tell when it will end but she prays it will be soon. Her head swims, she can feel herself forcing it from side to side but she does not remember giving her brain the signal to start such a thing. She can't open her eyes, she can't move her fingers, she can barely breath. It feels like there is a weight on her face and it is wet, sticky. She wants it gone. She doesn't want it there. Why is it there?

She can feel the coldness around her and it is suffocating. She opens her mouth and a grainy texture coats her tongue. She wants to move. Why can't she move? She tries to scream, but she only gasps for more air that will not come to her.

It is an indescribable fear that is laced across her chest, her shoulders. She wants this to end. She wants it all to end, but there doesn't seem to be one in sight.

And then, as if on some cliché cue, there is a light. It burns her eyes and she screams, eyes snapping closed. There is something continuously pressing down on her neck and face. It's cold and hard. She wants that to stop as well, but somehow, in the midst of the pain it is causing, she is finding relief. Whatever it is, it is helping her.

She lets her head loll, gives up on trying to open her eyes, gives up on trying to move her fingers and toes; if she didn't know any better, she would give up on trying to move her lungs. But that would just be stupid.

"It's alright, pard'ner," a strange mechanical voice is in her ears, muffled by dirt and something unpleasantly sticky. "Gon' get ya outta here, get ya patched up real quick like. Jus' relax."

Just relax? Her lids fluttered for a moment, almost glued together by the wet weight settled across her face. Well, if he insisted…


	2. 1 : Meet Her :

_Everything is spinning. And that's alright with her._

_She giggles, a rough hand carressing her own. She spins, bare feet kicking up dust against the star-struck backdrop. They're camped above Scorpion Gulch, the remains of the monstrosities crackling in the heat of their fire._

_He stops pulling her along, just smiling at her. Flushed cheeks, bright eyes, a permanent streak of blood across her collar bone. She's at the edge of their perch now, catching her breath, hands folded in front of her as she stares at the glittering lights of Vegas._

_"They're all gonna burn," she whispers, voice carried on a strong wind._

* * *

><p>"<em>One foot in front of the other…"<em>

* * *

><p>Tenley opened her eyes slowly.<p>

She reached a hand up and rubbed gently at her eyes, trying to get her vision back. This was how she woke up every morning for the past three days. Her vision either swam or was blurry, today it was sort of both mingled together but it settled faster than usual. The house was silent, the stench of mold and rot coming in stronger than ever, and Tenley worried about being alone. She hadn't yet spent a moment alone with herself, minus going to the bathroom, which was a terrible task with the head rush she gained from sitting down. After a few moments of looking around Tenley set her jaw and pulled the blanket away from her body, sliding her legs across the creaky mattress to plant her feet flat on the floor.

Her hair spilled (literally) over her shoulders and into her lap, making its own type of blanket for her. She took the heavy mass and raked it back with her fingers, tying it with the failing rubber band around her right wrist. She took in a deep breath and placed both hands on either side of her, slowly pushing herself up. Her legs felt tingly as she rested her weight on them, her fingers curled tightly around the back of the chair set beside her bed. She swayed back and forth slightly, her eyes closed as she tried to get her bearings. Ok, so maybe trying to stand on her own wasn't such a good idea. But she had to try, if she didn't, she would never be able to leave.

And Tenley wanted to move.

She wanted to leave, she wanted to find answers. Why was she shot? Who shot her? Most of all, where was the package she was meant to deliver. It was a Platinum Chip, at least that's what the paper she found tucked into her tattered bra had said. It must have been important if she had kept it so close to her.

"And what do you think you're doing?"

Tenley's eyes shot open and she looked over at the doorway, seeing Doc Mitchell standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. She smiled a little and waved. "H-Hi…um…I was just going to um…"

"Hurt yourself," he finished gruffly, but he smiled. "Rippin and rarin' to go aren't cha?"

Tenley smiled and managed to stand straight. She reached up and tucked a thin strand of hair behind her right ear and nodded. "I want to leave, I want to be able to defend myself soon. I need to find who shot me and get my answers."

Doc Mitchell stared at her for a long time, watching her try to make it to him on her own. She held onto the walls and took breaths between steps. In the few days he had known her, Doc Mitchell had found that Tenley was not a dangerous person. She was not vengeful, she just wanted the answers she deserved. She was lost. No memories, no possessions; all she had was a letter of destination and a piece of cloth with a half of a crescent on it which had been tucked into her bosom along with her letter. Important things went into important places, and that piece of cloth must have been a doosy.

"Ya sure you want to do this now, could wait another day or-"

He was cut off by her head snapping up, hair bouncing against the nape of her neck. Desperation. She was done. "I want this done, now. I can't take it anymore. Lying in bed, waiting for everything to come to me. I am tired of being stationary, I am tired of not having what I want. I need to know, I need to move on. If I can't go forward, what is the point in living?"

Doc Mitchell stared at Tenley, a smile ready to turn up his lips and then he sighed, rubbing his forehead before he started walking towards her. "Well if we're going to do this you're not going to try it when I'm barely awake," he grabbed her by her elbows and steered her back to the chair she had passed. "You're gonna sit here, I'm going to turn on the radio and you are going to wait while I cook."

Tenley twisted around as he approached the radio. "No! Come on, take me in the kitchen with you."

He sighed and turned around without any other protests, helping her out of her seat gingerly. "Go slow," he murmured when her feet got tangled in each other. "Don't need ya hurtin' yourself again."

She grimaced at the mention of her almost caved in forehead. "Shut up, that wasn't my fault."

They entered the kitchen slowly, Tenley's eyes focused on the plastic yellow chair waiting for her. Doc Mitchell grimaced at the way her right leg wobbled and made a mental note to check it over later. Tenley let out a shaky breath as she eased into the chair, face twisting through a minor twinge of pain at the weight she put on her legs. She hadn't used them since the day she had arrived, they were weak. She would have to spend some time exercising before she ran off into the sunset. After letting out a long, relieved, sigh, Tenley smiled up at Doc Mitchell.

"Sorry for all of the crap you have to help me with," she apologized.

He waved a hand at her and approached the fridge, rummaging around for the desired items for an actual breakfast for the young Courier. "It's no problem, I enjoy helpin' others."

Tenley smiled and turned herself to the table, strumming her fingers across the countertop before she paused, eyes set on a bright pink box tucked between a few packets of Insta-Mash. "What's that," she asked, pointing at it.

Doc Mitchell followed her finger to the box and smiled a little, walked over to it and plucking it up, flicking on the radio while he was there. "It's a box of gum drops," he opened the pack and dropped a few of the bright colored balls into his hand. "Try some."

Tenley took them hesitantly, popping one into her mouth. She rolled it around with her tongue, testing it with her teeth, Big Iron playing in the background, and then she smiled, pupils slightly dilated, and then she downed the last four gum drops in her hand, chewing on them enthusiastically. Her throat hummed in delight and Doc Mitchell chuckled at her simple happiness, walking back over to the stove and clicking it on.

"See you have a sweet tooth," he mused.

She mumbled something around the wad of sugar and then rested her head on her hands, elbows propped on the edge of the splintering table. She hummed with Big Iron, feeling something tugging against her chest for a moment, and then her ears prick up at the voice that fades in as the tune fades out.

"Hello New Vegas, this is Mr. New Vegas and might I say you are looking as lovely as ever…" there is a slight paused and then he begins to talk again. "So has anyone else heard of the infamous woman known as Deadman? Seems she has gone missing, no more bodies littering the highway through Quarry Junction and no more string ups from her, now that only leaves the Legion to have their crucifixions. I don't know where you went Deadman, but good riddance…"

Tenley jumped as the radio was immediately shut off mid sentence, her eyes locking on the back of Doc Mitchells head. His fingers stayed firm around the knob to the Radiation King box, the stove beginning to waft the scent of cooking meat into the air. Tenley stared at him for a moment before she folded her hands in front of her, stuffing the wad of sugar into her right cheek. She cleared her throat but he didn't move, so she spoke.

"Who is Deadman?"

He looked over his shoulder at her briefly before he went back to the food. "She's no one."

Tenley scowled. "Mitchell, tell me. Who is she?"

He didn't say anything for a long time, and eventually Tenley thought she was going to have to ask him again but he sighed and turned the stove on low, turning to her with shiny eyes. He pulled back one of the chairs at the table and sat, folding his hands on the table, eyes hard on them.

"Deadman…she is a ruthless killer. The NCR have been trying to get a hold of her for fifteen years and have had no such luck. She would come in and wipe out an entire town like this in one night. When silence was reported and the NCR came in to investigate, they only found crucified people. Men, women, children. She doesn't discriminate. Some rumors say she runs with a pack of Nightstalkers that live in the Morning Star cave or over by the Mojave Outpost, but me…I think she is just a figment of everyone's imagin-"

"No you don't," Tenley cut him off before he could finish his sentence. "You know she's real…you've met her."

He looked up at her with a strange look in his eyes and then nodded, lips set in a firm line. "Yes…I have met her. She was a true nightmare to behold. I'd say she was evil in a physical form, others say she was simply a demon plain and simple."

"Sounds like the same thing," Tenley looked to the window.

"It's not," he stood again and walked over the stove, turning it off completely. "Evil and demons are two different things, that is something you will unfortunately learn in the Wasteland. It's not something I can teach you, not something you can read about in a book," he paused in moving the food from the skillet to a large ceramic plate. "I hate that I can't prepare ya for what's out there."

Tenley stared at his back and then chuckled a little. "You act like you're my father."

He smiled at her. "Been takin' care of ya like I was, only natural I don't want ya to get ruined out there."

"I won't get _ruined_," she hummed, eyeing the plate in his hands as he sat at the table. "I'll get stronger."

"That could go two ways now, remember that."

"I will…I will…"

* * *

><p>"<em>A thing of legends, she is a succubus. Draining life for her own gain and enjoying herself, she is known as a Deadman. Like a Nightkin, she only moves at night, no one knows what happens to her during the day. Some say she is a demon, some say she is simply a monster, most say she is just a myth, many claim her to be a Legion. No one knows where she came from, no one knows how she got here or really when she got here.<em>

_She could have been a simple member of society that snapped, she could have been a raider gone AWOL, she could have been anything before she started showing up in the NCR's portfolios and on their bounty flyers. _

_Watch your backs for any women travelers, be cautious, but it won't do you any good. She'll get to you, and you won't even see it coming. Reports have been that she is a relentless killer, tracking down a man named Christopher, who was an apprentice of General Oliver, for three months. After butchering him with a serrated knife she left behind, she crucified him along the road towards Nellis Air Force Base..."_

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><p>Tenley listened to the report on a lower volume, making sure if he was awake, Doc Mitchell couldn't hear it. She rolled over onto her side, folding her hands beneath her head and then wincing as a sharp pain shot behind her eyes for a second. She was excited. She would be walking outside tomorrow. She had insisted on it. She needed to get out of this bed, she needed to feel the actual sun on her skin. She needed to get well faster, even if Doc Mitchell was against it.<p>

She needed to gather supplies, she needed the things any traveler needed. Weapons, first aid supplies, armor and her strength. Tenley closed her eyes, breathing in deeply through her nose before she forced her mind to clear. First thing first, she needed sleep, and plenty of it. The Pip-Boy the Doc had given her gave her the time and it said it was around nine thirty at night. Tenley grimaced at that. The whole town shut down around eight. Like a bunch of old folks. Or good people. Tenley grimaced further and then cleared her mind again, snuggling her face in deeper to the pillow, inhaling mold and dust.

She could do this. She had survived a bullet to the brain, she could make it to New Vegas.


	3. 2 : Meet Them :

_Tenley is pretty much just a whiny little bitch right now._

_R&R please! Flames are welcome, I really don't care._

_**Translation (s): **_

_*If you would scream, I would stop._

_*Legion? What makes you think I am Legion?_

_*I am not one of them, think ahead. Legion does not allow women to be a part of their army._

_*You're one of the lucky ones. I'll let you live. You know the language, you've experienced my madness, now spread the word and tell Oliver that I'm coming for him._

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><p><em>Her hips rolled, tongue rolling out of her mouth gently as she held the blade closer to her face. Her eyes were locked on the young man at her feet, making sure he saw her tasting the rusty substance she had gutted from him. She hummed as crimson coated her tongue, her nerves being sent into a frenzy and making her twitchy.<em>

"_Si clamatis, ego subsist," she purred, crouching down to his side._

_He watched her with panicked eyes, the blade dancing close to the side of his face. "No you won't, you'll just string me up like the rest. Legion scum," he spat the last part._

_She cocked her head to the right, blood dripping into the sand at her feet and clotting the grains. "Legionem? Quid faciam tibi: Legiomihi?"_

_His eyes met hers again, seeing the cold, calculating blood lust he had heard of, and nearly wet his pants. "Latin, stringing your victims up, your one of them."_

_She laughed, a maniacal, evil laugh, and jumped to her feet, startling the man. Her lips snapped up into a grin and she raised the machete in her hand, diving it down in one swift movement into the side of his right calf, eliciting a pained scream from him. She twirled for a moment, her ragged skirt fluttering around her, making it to the fire he had set up for his own camp – a camp which she had intruded upon – not even flinching when the flames danced across her ankles. She paused and turned her eyes on him, seeing the tears and the pain on his face._

"_Sum unus, cogitare ante. Legio pars exercitus non patitur mulieres," she walked back over to him, wrenching the machete from his leg and she shook the blood from it, enjoying the way the blood flew to the ground in droplets. "Unus es beatiorem. Me, et te reservabunt. Nostis Lingua expert dementia, qui nunc ueno expandit verbum at dicere ei placer."_

_He watched her back as she literally skipped into the desert, Latin tunes rolling off of her tongue accompanied by the occasional laughter all NCR had grown to fear._

* * *

><p>"Sit still now, or the needle might slip," Doc Mitchell scolded.<p>

Tenley couldn't help herself, she couldn't help any of the jumpy movements she was giving today. She winced as the needle slid under her skin, rubbing the sore spot as Doc Mitchell extracted it. He set the stimpak to the side, raising an eyebrow as she began her jerky movements again. She smiled broadly at him, the bandage around her head secured tight and fresh. She was in his wife's old jumpsuit, practical for the heat and the cold of the desert she was going to be trekking across.

But that wouldn't be for another day or two, she wasn't ready to leave yet.

Today, she would be getting around town.

"You ready for this," Mitchell muttered, eyes wavering around her giddy face.

She nodded her head fiercely, groaning and hanging her head as a dull thump went through her injured eye socket. "Owey!"

Doc Mitchell chuckled as she swung her legs back and forth and then stood, wiping his hands on his pants before he held them out to her. "Well, let's get you out of this bed then."

Tenley froze then, her blood almost icy, and she looked up at him. Her eyes were wide and almost confused, as if she had just realized what was going on. Tenley was scared, of course. She hadn't been outside since she was in a grave and of course, what kind of introduction was that? Today she would be outside, in the sunshine, meeting everyone she hadn't and enjoying the cruel desert she knows she loves.

That is one thing she knows by instinct, that she loves the desert. Mainly at night, when the heat isn't sweltering and she can hide easily.

Tenley smiled and nodded firmly, taking Doc Mitchells hand and he hoisted her up. He placed a hand against her hip that she didn't need. Tenley's legs were strong, Doc Mitchell had never seen someone with such strong legs before. Nothing but strong muscles and they had healed rather quickly, which he found very strange. The only thing that was healing slowly was the woun on her forehead, and that was no real surprise.

But her quick mobility was, though Doc Mitchell didn't say anything.

Tenley counted the boards beneath her feet as they approached the front door Tenley's body quivering with excitement. It was like she was high on Med-X, but she knew she was just excited. Of course she was, who wouldn't be after being cooped up in this dark home for almost a week?

Her eyes snapped closed as the sun light flooded over her and she felt the warmth instantly soaking into her skin. She blinked away the pain and rays as the town came into view. They were at the highest point in town, on the top of a small hill, and the whole town was laid out for her to take in. There were several crumbling homes around the fringes of the land, many boarded up and already caved in, but there were a few still set up and inhabited. Two homes had patches of plants beside them where men in overalls raked at the dry ground, wiping away sweat on their brows. A pin of something drew her attention and Tenley marked that has her first destination.

Then she saw something coming towards them, and it was fast. _Robot_. The voice blinked through her head so fast Tenley didn't have time to think further on where it came from. The cartoon face on it made Tenley giggle but she didn't say anything about it, just smiled as Doc Mitchell led her down the gentle slope of the hill. They stopped in front of the robot, Doc wary about having the damn thing so near her.

It wasn't that he didn't trust the thing, it was just…he didn't trust the thing.

"Well, howdy pardner, might I say you are looking fit as a fiddle."

She cocked her head to the right. "Do we know each other?"

Doc Mitchell lowered his lips to her right ear. "Victor here is the one that dug ya outta that grave."

A look of recognition shot across her face. "Oh my! Thank you so much!"

He waved a 'hand' at her. "Don' mention it. 'm always here to lend a helping hand to a stranger in need."

That was kind of creepy, but she didn't question it any further. "Well thanks again," she looked up at Mitchell. "Can we go see those things in the pen?"

It took him a moment to understand what she meant and then he smiled, nodding. "Sure," his eyes followed Victor's back as they shuffled across the sand, past an old yucca. "These are called Big Horns."

"I wonder why," she joked, holding onto the railing of the pen. She smiled up at Mitchell like an over excited child. "Can I pet one?"

Mitchell looked over at the owner of the calves. His name was Cleveland and he nodded, raking at his garden. "Yeah, jus' don't move too fast, they'll get spooked."

Tenley nodded and started easing into the pen, her legs throbbing but she didn't mind it. One of the calves lifted its head, exposed molars squishing what dried grass they found on the ground. It chewed slowly, its horns rocking on its head and it snorted. Tenley giggled at the gush of air and waved a hand in front of her face. She swallowed and reached a hand out, the palm shaking until it was pressed flat against its forehead. It bowed its head against her hand, making her rock back a step. She waved her free hand out and slipped forward, both hands wrapping around the calves head.

It grunted and snorted again, trying to pull back for a moment before it just gave up and let her lean on it. Tenley's eyes flickered around for a moment before she grinned over her shoulder at Mitchell and Cleveland. Mitchell was smiling and nodding at her, Cleveland leaning on his rake.

"He's so cute," Tenley cooed, running her hand over the calves' horns.

"That one there is a she, the only she in the herd. Name is Ventra."

"That's a lovely name," Tenley managed to stand on her own again and she smiled at the rather little thing. She looked back to Mitchell. "I'm hungry!"

He whined at her whining and led her out of the pen, waving goodbye to Cleveland. They started up the road again, hobbling towards an old beaten truck. "Well, we'll go up to Trudy's saloon, get ya some iguana bites an' then we'll talk to Sunny Smiles."

"Who's Sunny Smiles," Tenley asked, distracted by a swaying sign labeled 'Supplies' hanging above a wood paneled building.

"Sunny is kinda like the town guard, keeps the varmints outta the pen and the gardens. Keeps the damn geckos out of the spring water."

"Maybe she can teach me how to shoot a gun," Tenley smiled at the prospect.

Mitchell didn't say anything but Tenley was too distracted by her surroundings to notice that. There was some kind of smell coming from the wind, it must have been the soil. She also smelt smoke and it was coming from the back of the saloon they were standing in front of. An old man helped Mitchell get Tenley onto the porch, he introduced himself as Pete. Well, Dynamite Pete, but Tenley was sticking to just Pete.

"Thank you," her voice was shaky from almost falling off of the steps.

"No problem lil lady," his peppered beard moved with his smile. "Now you two get inside, gonna be a sandstorm comin up soon."

"Damn," Mitchell muttered as he opened the door to the saloon. "Guess we're gonna be in here for awhile. Maybe we should get back to th-"

"Mitcheeeeell," Tenley whined, gaining a head rush from the cold wafting from a rattling air conditioner.

"Fine, fine," he grumbled, keeping close until she was sitting on a bar stool. He rasped his knuckles on the counter, catching the attention of a graying woman with a dusty apron. "Hey Trudy, need some food for the little lady."

Trudy smiled and nodded. "Sure, comin right up."

Tenley looked around the bar, hands clasped in front of her. Her eyes roamed around the pictures nailed above the large mirror on the other side of the bar. The pictures were dusty but she was able to see a row of miners with two hounds sitting in front of them, a picture of a couple holding each other against the side of the old truck out in the streets. There was a group of children standing in front of a large red building and then a young woman on a large four legged animal, but it wasn't a Big Horn.

Her attention snapped to the bar as something clicked in front of her. Cocked her head, staring at the strange food in front of her and she looks up to Trudy, who is setting a yellow glass bottle in front of her. And now her attention is one that.

"Whas that," she mutters, poking the bottle.

Trudy chuckles. "That's Sunset Sarsaparilla," she pops off the top, sending a flurry of bubbles into the stale air. She smiled at it and held it out to Tenley. "Wanna keep this 'ne? The stars are rare."

It was the most beautiful thing Tenley had seen since she had woken up. The bottle cap was rusty, save for one bright blue star in the center of the cap. She took it from Trudy's hand and stared at it in wonder, twisting it around in her fingers.

"Pretty," she muttered, pupils dilated. She looked up at Trudy. "Sure I can keep it?"

Trudy nodded. "Yes ma'am, now eat up before your food gets cold."

Tenley nodded fiercely, stuffing the cap into her bra before she picked up the pieces of meat on her plate. The meat was chewy but not unpleasant. She was able to swallow it, but it sort of felt like it was moving around in her stomach; she ignored that after the third or fourth bite. She picked up the Sunset Sarsaparilla and stared at it suspiciously. She Tenley hadn't drank anything but water since Victor dug her up from her grave, she was cautious about everything right now.

As soon as the amber liquid hit her tongue she moved her tongue back and let the whole drink burn a path through her throat. She could almost feel the sugar in the drink and that made her stomach lurch and turn, made her skin prickle. She could see herself getting slowly addicted to anything with sugar in it.

Everyone jumped when the door beside the bar snapped open. A large dog loped into the bar, covered in dust and a heavy gust of sand blew in behind it, sliding across the old floor. A figure hurried into the saloon, slamming the door behind them. Tenley watched them curiously. They wore thick leather armor, gloves and boots, a long rifle strapped to their back. They wore some sort of scarf that covered their head and their nose and mouth.

They pulled their rifle from their back and leaned it against a bench nailed to the wall behind Tenley and pulled the scarf from their head, draping it across the barrel of the rifle. It was a woman with strawberry blonde hair. She was pretty, her features more plain though than even Trudy's. Her eyes, a brilliant cerulean color, came up when she heard Tenley set her bottle down and her eyes narrowed into a glare. Trudy and Mitchell knew why she was angry, but they didn't say anything. They would just watch this play out, see what Tenley would do. What Sunny would do.

"Th' hell is she doin here," Sunny griped, grabbing a Sarsaparilla from behind the bar.

"Figured it was time to take her out," Mitchell explained. "What were you doin out there in that storm?"

Sunny grunted, unusually angry, and slumped down onto the bench while Tenley went back to her food for a moment. "Damn Geckos got inta the water, had to go kill some. Don' get me started on the coyotes that tried to get the good Gecko hides."

Tenley looked back. "What's a Gecko?"

Sunny glared. "Fuckin idiot," she muttered, taking a swig from her drink.

Tenley's brow furrowed. "I was shot in the head, sorry if I don't remember what the damn thing is."

Mitchell stared at Tenley with a slightly shocked expression. He hadn't heard her talk like this before. She sounded rather angry. Sunny shook her head a little. "Right, you got shot by a couple of idiots."

"Did you see them," Tenley turned to her fully, curiosity overrunning her aggravation of Sunny. "Did you see the men that shot me?"

Sunny shook her head. "Hell no, I was busy."

"Right, you're the pest control around here," Tenley quipped, keeping her eyes trained on Sunny.

"Enough," Trudy glared daggers at both of the women. "Neither one of you have any right gripin at each other. Sunny, put aside yer jealousy and Tenley eat your food. Gonna be stuck in here with each other until th' storms over so mine as well be civil while we do it."

Mitchell sighed as Sunny kicked herself up and stomped into the other room, Cheyenne at her heels. He listened to the jukebox click on and placed a hand on Tenley's shoulder. "Guess I gotta teach ya how to shoot."

Tenley looked up at him with now strangely innocent eyes. "Why is she jealous?"

He shook his head and looked up at Trudy, who was talking to Pete at the end of the bar. He looked back down at Tenley. "Don' worry about it, you just eat and we'll see if it's safe enough to head on home."

Tenley nodded, eyes flickering to the open doorway before she went back to her food. She would find out what that bitchs' problem was before she left.

* * *

><p>"Alrigh…now hold it steady, one eye closed. Which hand ya think a write with?"<p>

"Right."

"Then close that one, now feel how heavy it is? Don' tense up, keep the sights aligned the best ya can. And…fire."

Tenley pulled back on the trigger, cringing at the recoil. It shot through her arms and she rolled her shoulders. She already had a nosebleed from the last try. But at least this time she hit one of the bottles. It had shattered into pieces, the glittering slices littering the ground and making rainbows across the maize to their left. Tenley wiped at the slow dripping blood on her upper lip and smiled at Mitchell.

"I did it," she cheered herself on.

He chuckled and pushed off of the side of his house, approaching her with steady steps. "Sure did, maybe we can try again without a nosebleed, huh?"

She chuckled and slid the pistol into the holster on her right thigh. "Sure, but I think I got the hang of it for the most part."

He nodded. "Yeah, seems like it. Let's go inside and get the shotgun now, I wanna see how ya hold onto that."

Tenley groaned but followed him anyway, tracking dirt into the house. She didn't realize how dark and cold the home was before she had left the house the day before. Now, after basking in the warm glow of the sun and all that, Tenley realized that the home seemed so sad. It seemed empty despite all the furniture and surgical equipment. She waited in the main hallway while Mitchell rummaged around in a locker at his bedside. There was a door closed to her right and Tenley sneaked a peek into Mitchell's room. He wouldn't notice. She chewed on her lip and walked over to the door, easing it open without a single squeak and her lips twitched downwards.

It was an old broom closet and it was stuffed to the brim with so many things. A stack of old boxes written with the words Alexandra's Things on the sides. There was a cradle behind that and then a few boxes that said Baby Things. Her heart shuttered and she hurriedly closed that door before she was found out. Mitchell came from his room with a proud grin on his face as he cradled a rather impressive rifle against his chest.

"This is my baby," he stroked the barrel. "She's yours now."

Tenley took the rifle with a dry mouth. "Th-Thank you."

He nodded once, placing his hands on his hips. "Her name is Alexandra, take good care of her."

Tenley froze, staring at the floor before she looked up at Mitchell with a somber expression. He nodded again and started for the door. She trailed behind slowly.

Deadman had took his wife…and his baby.


End file.

Fallout, Humor, Romance