Fallout New Vegas: A New Road

The moon was high into the night by now and as Scootaloo and numerous other fillies slept across Ponyville, the Courier toiled away in the Everfree.

Given his helmet’s night vision, there was no need to pause or light anything up to give his position away, meaning he was able to begin construction on his small cabin. With no nails nor pieces of metal to support the logs, he fashioned them together in a very primitive form.

Inspired by a children’s toy in numerous Pre-War magazines he’d seen, he created large divots at the ends of a few of the pieces of logs he was using. He had also flattened out their rounded nature a bit through trimming them with a small hatchet and Knock-Knock, meaning they would stack easier. This would allow them to link together through gravity alone.

He also had to trim any irregularities in the wood to get both ends of the log to a manageable nature. Given he had no other means of keeping them together, that would have to do for the time being.

He briefly pondered and tossed about the idea of using glue. However, chuckled to himself. Given everything around was equine-based, and the main lifeforms were talking horses, it wouldn’t be quite the best idea.

The process was slow, obnoxious, and back breaking, but he did manage to get a rectangular-shaped base laid out. He examined it, crudely measuring with his eyes and then his physical feet.

The base was made from the tree Rainbow Dash had knocked down for him and laid out on a flattened-out plot of dirt, right next to where his firepit still sat.

It was relatively small, only four feet wide and seven feet long, but he was going for shelter, not glamor. Didn’t help any that he’d also nearly run out of wood, as the one tree provided only so much.

As it stood, it would have enough room to lay down in and enough room to store his stuff in. That was more than enough.

He had cut two large lines across one of the four feet long segments to show where he intended to put the doorway to the cabin as well. Other than that, no marks, as there’d be no windows nor extremities nor additions to the basic, rectangular cabin.

For someone belonging to the desert, through his own ingenuity, he managed to get decently far. But even his powerful body had begun to slow down, and he was heaving here and there.

A part of him considered taking off the mask to get more fresh air, but he shrugged that part off immediately.

For the moment, he stopped trimming the log he’d been working on and sat up, hearing his joints pop and groan with effort. Maybe a break was in order…

He shook off the thought for the moment and looked around at some of the trees surrounding him.

Certain ones had large Xs etched in them. They each had a similar width and thickness to the logs he’d already worked on, ensuring the future cabin would be sturdy, even, and stable.

Everything was ready for him to pick back up if needed...

His Brain’s final words echoed in his head a moment later.

Take a bath?

Take a bath!

…

Fuck it, why not?

The Courier wandered the Everfree for a bit until he found a reasonably clean looking stream. It was only a few feet deep, so he wouldn’t get carried away in the reasonable currents.

After scanning around in the clear, rushing water for any predators and checking the bushes nearby for threats, he nodded to himself, and began to take off his riot gear.

Water felt weird against his skin.

Wasn’t often he submerged himself in it.

Reminded him of the time he’d helped the Boomers back at Lake Mead. What a fun trip that was.

There was no soap or anything, so he effectively just scrubbed the grime off himself by hand.

It was basically impossible to make out any details of the large, bulky figure in the night as he bathed.

After a few minutes, he had finished, and dried himself off with a large rag. From there on in he slipped back into his gear, throwing on the pants first. While he reached for his breastplate, however, he paused, eyeing up the stomach area.

He ran his fingers over the hole in the armor that the Bugbear left and remained still. After examining it for a few moments, he narrowed his eyes in thought.

He threw on only his duster and helmet instead, leaving his bare chest exposed as he carried his torso armor in hand, advancing quickly towards the clearing.

After backtracking to the campgrounds, he retrieved a large armor plate from his stash, yanking it out of one of his duffle bags and getting to work on repairing the punctured portion of his stomach piece.

He’d saved a few spare segments and pieces of combat armor for emergency repairs like this. Despite the difference between the two, they were close enough in terms of material and strength for the combat armor’s plating to be a worthy substitute to the riot gear’s.

The Courier took his sewing kit and a bowie knife and got to work, gently cutting through any pieces of fabric. His night vision helmet continued to come in handy, letting him work in the shallow moonlight.

He remained there, crouched over a small stump he used as a makeshift table for the almost surgical procedure. Should he make any mistakes, it could compromise the armor, thus he continued on slowly and carefully.

Eventually, he tugged the damaged plating away from the main chest piece and examined it.

The stinger's impact point was gnarly, with the armor having caved inwards, leaving several jagged edges that likely added to the impalement he’d received earlier. He even noticed some dried blood covering it as well.

After tossing the damaged plate to the ground, he got to work inserting in the new one. He made sure it interlocked properly with the rest of the armor, and when it looked like it would set fine, he sewed it back into place. Six then gave it a few rough, testing punches, making sure it stuck solidly to his riot gear.

His knuckles hurt after the fifth blow, and a piece of him even considered shooting it with at least a 9mm to ensure his safety. After some thought, he shot down the idea, as he didn’t feel like needlessly damaging the armor.

Instead, he then just wiped it down with the same wet towel he’d dried himself off with from earlier, cleaning off the dried blood, the muck, and the sandy grime that clung to it.

Finally, he was able to cover up his chest with the snug fitting, slightly cleaner armor. He then reapplied his duster over it as well. After a second, he considered sewing up the claw marks the Bugbear had left in it as well, but for the moment he decided against it.

Not important right now.

With his armor repaired, just sat down, his back to a tree as he let himself just… take it all in.

He nodded to nothing as he eyed the grass, the trees, the falling leaves around him.

This… nature, it was strange.

He gnawed on the interior of his cheek for a moment, before he reached into a satchel and pulled out a small stick of bubblegum. He adjusted his helmet, popped it into his mouth and straightened it back in one swift, familiar motion.

The geiger counter beeped again, but he just ignored it as the sandy, faintly sugary taste filled his mouth.

He rubbed his thumb across his index finger, scrunching his glove a bit. He did this as he did his best to “relax” for lack of a better term. Six almost felt as if the strangeness of the past few days was going to affect him, but he just shook it off with a low grunt.

He looked back over to the logs he had shaped up for the base of his soon to be tiny cabin, and considered getting back to work, but a large piece of him didn’t want to.

Maybe it was exhaustion from the fight. Maybe it was his lack of sleep. Maybe it was laziness. Maybe all three?

A faint piece of him wanted to pick a random direction, saddle up, and just wander.

A fainter piece of him wanted someone to talk to.

An even fainter piece wanted sleep.

He just sighed, got up and began to walk away from his camp back towards Ponyville.

He didn’t hide himself this time, and as he got to the forest’s edge, he just strolled along. There wasn’t anypony or creature out at this time anyways.

There was no direction in the wanderings, barely even followed the pathways; he just walked.

The moon above gave everything a nice, ethereal glow. Reminded him of the nightly wanderings in the desert.

There were rolling hills ahead, with a few houses dotting them. Ponyville proper was in the distance, with most of the windows on the various abodes and establishments being shuttered for the night.

Off in the distance he could see a great mountain. Atop of which was a great city, and in the middle of the great city was the greatest sight of all; a gigantic, medieval-styled castle.

He hadn’t particularly noticed the sight before, given the prior times he was walking near the town, he was laying low. But with that burden off his shoulders, he could examine more freely.

It almost reminded him of the occasional splash pages the Tæles of Chivalrie magazines would offer. However, instead of faded printing on wood pulp paper, this was a gorgeous, scenic view, with stars dotting the inky sky above.

A pleasant sight.

A sense of civilization that equaled the lit-up Strip; possibly even surpassed it in some regards.

Even if it wasn’t one crafted by humans, it made him imagine the days of old. Not just Pre-War, before even that.

The days of knights, trusty steeds, and kings. Unique days, though all-in-all, not completely dissimilar to what he’d come from, even after a millennium of years separating the two time periods.

Instead of swords, it was firearms.

Instead of horses, it was great metal tanks and vertibirds.

Instead of steel plates, it was advanced alloys and composites powered by nuclear fusion.

War was uncreative like that.

Six stopped gazing at the sights for a bit and walked along down a trail for a bit. He soon saw a wooden bench up ahead and tiredly made his way to it.

He sat down, leaning back so his spine rested against the supportive yet uncomfortable backstop of the bench. The human rested his right arm on the armrest at the end of the bench. The Courier then raised his left one and laid it along the top portion of the back rail.

Let himself sit like that casually. Was almost comfortable in a way.

Felt a bit boring too though.

This is normalcy… Strange.

He just sat there, and chewed gum, and waited.

And waited.

And waited.

Almost like that of a statue.

One would think he’d died if he didn’t occasionally look around or adjust his position. It was as if he was mentally counting the hours, waiting for nothing in particular.

Bon Bon couldn’t sleep.

She rolled and tossed and turned under her sheets, but tried to keep her movements to a minimum so she didn’t wake up Lyra.

Her wife just snoozed away, snoring loudly as she rested off the long day.

Normally, Bon Bon would be annoyed at her, but on this night, that wasn’t the reason for her lack of sleep.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could see it, that same scene over and over.

A terrified aquamarine unicorn.

A gigantic beast about to rip her apart.

She felt the terror again, making her nearly give herself a panic attack.

It was about an hour and a half later she finally gave up on sleeping.

Bon Bon sighed to herself, gently rolling out of bed. She was quiet, like one would expect of a special agent. Her lithe body allowed her to slip out of the large bed, leaving the snoring unicorn alone.

Thankfully it wasn’t a cuddle night, otherwise that would’ve been a pain.

Regardless, the earth pony snuck out of the bedroom. Soon she wrapped a small scarf around her neck and exited out of the house completely, walking into the chilly night.

No destination in mind. No ponies to visit, anyways.

Sadly, Vinyl Scratch wasn’t having a late-night rave or anything, otherwise she might’ve slipped into that to at least hear some music, have a drink.

No, as it stood, she had no crowds to blend into, nor any backgrounds to hide in.

It was just her and the streets of Ponyville.

Such a strange sensation.

Seeing the town alive so often made the deadness of it seem so much more bizarre.

It reminded her almost of the time Equestria was under attack by the Mean Three. Most ponies split apart during that time, went back to their baser roots, hated one another and acted tribal.

But Lyra and Bon Bon hadn’t. Love had kept them from doing so.

Ah, there it was again!

She’d almost cleared her head, and now the Bugbear incident was back inside it once more!

Her brow furrowed at herself in annoyance. Bon Bon just huffed and walked along, getting to the outskirts of the town now.

The mare felt a cool breeze fly by, likely courtesy of a few night-duty weather pegasi.

It was enjoyable. Calmed her nerves, almost.

Still though, she toiled with her thoughts, trying to face them and then shove them out of her mind, giving herself some peace.

It only partly worked though, as even after that she felt herself going back to those same, horrific “what ifs” over and over again.

She was a secret agent! How could something as basic as a near-casualty make her so antsy?

Well, the answer was obviously just who the near-casualty was.

The earth pony had strayed quite far from Ponyville now, with it being a decent ways behind her. She was now in the outer rolling hills of the town, following no trail in particular.

She and Lyra had faced so much together. All the monster attacks, the secrets, the daily struggles of life.

To be left alone, to have all of that ripped away...

Bon Bon sniffled but held it together thanks to her training.

Still, her mind was so clouded she didn’t notice the bench up ahead until a pair of glowing red, beady eyes stared back.

The earth pony paused, her eyes widening in shock, but after a moment of examination, she sighed.

“Don’t scare me like that!” she shouted.

“You walked up on me!” huffed back the human, shaking his head as he looked away.

She bit her tongue and rolled her eyes at that.

He was right, but the stubborn mare didn’t dare admit it.

“What are you doing here?” she asked as she approached. “I thought you went off to the forest or something.”

“Can a man not have a nightly stroll?” he just replied back as he switched his position, leaning down and resting his elbows on his thighs.

“You just didn’t strike me as the pony-friendly type,” Bon Bon said.

“I’m not,” he replied. “Why do you think I’m out here so late?”

The mare just sighed and hoisted herself up onto the bench, sitting beside him.

“The real question is why are you out here,” he pointed out. “Insomnia?”

“I guess,” she said, sounding a bit cold.

“If you don’t wanna talk about your shit, fine by me,” he shrugged. “I just figured you ponies were all about happiness and feelings and honesty and problem solving and… rainbows or something.”

“Not all of us are friendly and open,” she responded.

“Whatever,” he said simply, leaning back and readjusting himself again.

The two were silent for a bit, just sitting there together.

Bon Bon awkwardly looked away from him, though she did peak a few quick glances at him, all the while he just stared off in the distance at nothing specific.

After a minute longer, she finally broke down and sighed.

“I never got to thank you,” she said, “for saving my wife, I mean.”

“Ahh, they allow that here,” he shrugged. “Didn’t realize you guys were that progressive.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” she questioned, raising an eyebrow and finally turning to him.

“Nothing, just musing to myself,” he explained. “But really, you don’t have to thank me. I got enough of those back at the hospital.”

“I noticed, you’re not really an open book, wonder if all humans are that way,” she said casually.

He shot up into a straightened position and turned to her.

“How’d you know what I was?” he asked her.

“Oh uh… Rainbow Dash?” she offered with a nervous chuckle.

“No, no, you said that shit too casually,” he said. “I was told humans didn’t exist here, but hearing that? Now I’m beginning to worry.”

She sighed, giving in with little resistance. Surprising, giving her affinity with keeping secrets.

“Alright, I’ll say what I know, but you have to promise me you won’t freak out,” Bon Bon said carefully.

“Sister, you have no idea what I’ve been through this week, and not once did I freak out over it,” he just replied.

“I…” she examined him with a cocked eyebrow, “...alright.”

He leaned in, ready for what she had to say.

“My wife, back a few years when we were just dating, she had this…” Bon Bon paused, trying to figure out how to phrase her next words, before shrugging, “...She had an obsession with the mythological, you know? Strange, nonexistent creatures.”

“Uh huh?” he asked, if his helmet could show it, it’d likely raise an eyebrow itself.

“Well, among the list of stuff like Bighoof or Mothpony, there were,” she paused, giving a sigh, “humans.”

“Humans?” he questioned.

She nodded back.

“I know you’re not exactly what they looked like,” she elaborated. “They had no fur except for on their heads, and they had two eyes, a small weird looking nose, lips, all that stuff. But you look like one, in shape anyways, just wearing a lot of armor.”

“So, what exactly were humans to you?” he asked.

“Just old ponytales,” Bon Bon shrugged. “Sometimes they ate little foals who disobeyed their parents. Other times they’d act like caveponies, throwing spears and bashing each other with clubs. A few of the legends even had them as great protectors, appearing to save lost and wayward ponies, leading them back to their homes.”

The mare just sighed again.

“It was no different than aliens or robots to me, just all make-believe stuff that a few kooky ponies invested too much time in,” she admitted. “Almost like all those stupid Daring Do conventions.”

“So I’m like a, I don’t know, fake story to you?” he asked back, obviously sensing the irony in the situation; he himself being the make-believe mythical beast in the land of ponies and dragons and God-knows-what-else.

He would’ve laughed at the idea had he not been face to face with a talking mare right now.

“Well not anymore,” she admitted. “At this rate, I wish Lyra hadn’t given that stuff up. She even was thinking about this spell where she could create her own hands out of magic. Stopped working on it before we got married though.”

“If it’s any consolation, if I went back to where I was from and told other humans about talking ponies and pegasi and unicorns, I’d be locked in a looney bin,” he said. “Well, if there were any.”

“Where exactly are you from?” she questioned. "And how did you get here?"

“I don’t even really know myself at this point, lady,” he admitted. “I just went to sleep and the next thing I knew I was in a forest plummeting out of a tree. And before you ask, no, I didn’t have a magical artifact, and no, I can’t use magic.”

She “hmm’d” to herself in thought.

“I’m not big on magic usage, even with Lyra, she’s not exactly a masterful spell-user compared to a pony like Star Swirl, Starlight, or Twilight,” admitted the earth pony.

“Just a bunch of sky-based names running around with all your power, huh?” he stated flatly.

“You have no idea,” she chuckled, remembering Luna and Celestia’s reign as she gazed at the stars.

“You know,” he began, but paused himself, wondering if he should continue, as if he was thinking back on something.

He soon shrugged as she looked over at him with curiosity.

Fuck it, might as well be a bit open for once.

“Aliens exist too, but I don’t think they’re anywhere near your guys’ part of the galaxy,” he said with a smirk.

“H-how would you know?” she asked, surprised.

“Just do me a favor and don’t ask on that front,” he said, almost chuckling. “I just know.”

Her face scrunched, and she folded her forehooves.

“You’re just screwing with me now,” she scoffed, turning away from him cutely.

“Hey that’s fine! Don’t believe me,” he said, leaning back with a chuckle.

They were silent for a bit, him looking up at the stars while she faced away, still annoyed looking.

After a while, she finally spoke again.

“Lyra was the only pony who ever seemed to care about me,” she admitted to him.

She didn’t know exactly why.

Maybe a piece of her thought he could keep a secret, or maybe it was because another piece believed he didn’t exactly give a damn and wouldn’t bring it up.

“I spent years of my life feeling like I was living in the background, you know?” she questioned.

“I can’t relate to that, sorry,” he admitted. “But surely you had something going on?”

“I did…” she sighed. “But it took away any chance at normalcy I had in life.”

He nodded silently, not pressing what exactly she was referring to.

“Until I met her, felt her love... I was nothing,” Bon Bon admitted, tears faintly welling in her eyes. “If I had lost her, I don’t think I could’ve lived with myself.”

“And here I was thinking this place was all sunshine and rainbows,” he sighed, though she felt a faint piece of sympathy coming from him.

“I don’t know exactly where I was going with this,” she admitted. “I guess I just needed somepon- somecreature to vent to.”

“I’m not exactly a grade-A therapist, but I understand where you’re coming from,” he replied.

“I just felt weak after the incident at the dam, you know?” she asked. “I’m a bit tougher than most ponies, had a couple of fights but… even then I couldn’t do anything to save her.”

“Sometimes it’s not about winning, it’s about giving it what you’ve got,” he pointed out.

“And what I had wasn’t enough to save Lyra,” she sighed.

“Maybe not,” he shrugged, “but you two bought me enough time to put the fucker down. I couldn’t’ve done it without you. Look on the bright side! Because of you, that thing can’t break up any more lesbian pony couples.”

She laughed dryly at that.

“I guess,” she offered, her tone still shaky.

“Look, I’m not exactly one for that love and stuff, but I can say that dragging around that weight, that uhh… guilt. It isn’t good,” he offered. “Eats ya up inside, ya break down, can’t think right. Let it consume you and you just become a shell. It’s not pretty.”

“I know but I still can’t shake it,” she said, her voice hitching.

He looked over at her, seeing the tears streaming down her face.

Six just rolled his eyes, before reaching out a hand. He awkwardly patted her on the shoulder, giving her a bit of support.

She shocked him by leaning in for a full-on hug. Unlike a child, Bon Bon was a full mare, so her grip was stronger and more unexpected.

“Ooo…kay,” he said, patting his back as he looked around, as if he wanted something to leap out of nowhere and help him.

When nothing came, he sighed, accepting his situation.

“Look, uh…” he blanked, realizing he never got her name.

“Bon Bon,” she answered, her voice muffled by the jacket she was crying into.

“Bon Bon, you’re a strong mare, alright?” he said. “You can get through this. Just go back home, wait for your wife to wake up, take the day off or something. Just enjoy your time with her.”

She sniffled, breaking back to look up at him. His red lenses met her bright, expressive eyes as he continued.

“You should realize that people you love aren’t gonna always be there, which is why you need to enjoy the time you do have with them,” he offered.

“B-but Lyra is my world,” she admitted.

“I know… but you’ve gotta have friends, right?” he pointed out. “Everyone else here does anyways.”

“Well, I know a few, like Derpy and Doctor Whooves,” Bon Bon admitted, wiping away tears with her forehoof.

“That’s a good start,” he encouraged. “Think of it like this; if anything happens to Lyra, if they’re good friends, they’ll be there for you, thick and thin and all that.”

“I suppose you’re right,” she nodded. “It’d be impossible to face, even with their help, though.”

“I’ve heard something like that before,” he shrugged, briefly thinking to the Freeside junkies he'd helped. He shook it off quickly though. “But no problem is too big to face, especially when you’re not alone.”

Bon Bon nodded again.

“And you’re not alone,” he pointed out, giving it a sense of finality. “And if you want more friends, just make ‘em. This place doesn’t have a shortage of those it seems.”

“Right,” she said. “I’m sorry about all of that… you’re not used to hugs, I guess. You kinda suck at them.”

He laughed dryly at that and just nodded as he looked out at the rolling hills of Ponyville.

“Sorry, guess that wasn’t very funny,” she sighed.

“Don’t become a broken record on me now,” he huffed back, before giving her an assuring pat on the shoulder, a small bit of force into it. “After the whole ‘getting your emotions out’ you should feel like a million caps- er… bits!”

Bon Bon nodded, a faint smile on her lips.

“You know, I know you’re alone out here,” she said, before looking back towards the town.

“What gave you that idea?” he snarked.

“You can bunk with us, if you want,” offered the earth pony.

“Nah I’m… I don’t know if that’d be a good idea,” he admitted.

“Come on!” she huffed, prodding him in the shoulder with a forehoof. “Lyra would love to have you!”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“We have a couch and everything!” she offered, giving a smile.

“You’re persistent,” he stated.

“I learned it from my wife,” she giggled.

“Look, I’m not gonna be here for that long anyways, so I shouldn-”

“Even more reason to room with us for the time you are here!” she pointed out.

He paused; his pointer finger raised. After a moment, he huffed, bringing it back down and letting both his palms rest dangling between his legs.

“Just think of it as repayment for saving us!” she added.

“Maybe later,” he said tiredly.

“You didn’t say no,” she chuckled in victory.

“Didn’t say yes either,” he pointed out, tugging back hard on her minor victory.

“That means you thought about it as a possibility,” she shot back.

“Look, just give me a bit,” he grunted.

“Fine, fine,” she smirked, and patted him again, giving a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” he huffed, leaning back tiredly. “I just have a long shift tomorrow and I need time to think.”

“Get some sleep,” she offered.

“I’m fine. Don’t need it,” he said, stifling a yawn.

“Riiight,” she smirked, raising an eyebrow.

“Look, just go home to your wife, alright?” he shrugged. “Have lesbian makeup sex or something.”

She looked at him in shock.

“Are all humans as crass as you?” she growled back, blushing all the while.

“You’d be surprised,” he stated flatly.

She huffed in embarrassment and remained silent.

After a bit, he reached into his satchel and pulled out his ever-decreasing cigarette pack. Only about half a dozen smokes left.

Regardless, he pulled one out and adjusted his helmet, putting it in his lips.

Bon Bon looked at him, as if she were pondering something. After a moment, the mare spoke.

“Can I have one?” she asked.

He looked down at her in surprise.

“You’re notta addict, are ya?” he asked, his cancer stick clenched in his teeth.

“I’m not. I Pinkie Promise,” she said, making him cock an eye at the strange phrase. “I just do it on occasion. Helps me every now and then.”

Six gauged her reaction, finding it genuine. He then looked down at his smokes and wondered. They shouldn’t be radioactive, never set off the geiger counter, anyways. Just old, but even then, tobacco keeps.

After thinking it over, he shrugged and offered her one, putting it between her lips.

He pulled out his engraved lighter and lit his first and then hers.

She couldn’t make out his lower jaw’s features, but she looked at him thankfully as she huffed down the smoke. Tasted stale. Still, nothing else wrong with it.

She reached up a forehoof and removed it from her mouth, blowing out some smoke. She looked unsure at the stale flavor of the cancer stick, but still seemed thankful for it.

“You need a new brand,” Bon Bon eventually said, smirking.

“Tell me about it,” he just rolled his eyes.

Two streams of smoke billowed upwards as the two sat on that bench.

She enjoyed his company despite his coldness.

He…

Wouldn’t admit he enjoyed hers.

Not to her face anyways.