The Lone Wanderer had woken up in hospitals before.

When he had first left Vault 101 as a simple, very uneducated 19 year-old forty years ago, the first thing that had happened to Carter Thompson, armed with a mere 10mm pistol, a baseball bat, and his normal Vault suit, was the very, very unfortunate stumbling upon an Outcast convoy, two soldiers enveloped in the signature red and black power armor and with plasma rifles in their very itchy hands and their very itchy trigger fingers held very closely to the appendages' namesake.

Unfortunately for the young Carter, it wasn't the Outcasts who had shot at him once he had descended the rocky hillside, their sudden turning about and pointing of rifles aside.

No.

It was their damned sentry bot that had wheeled around, blaring an alarm that had startled poor, young, admittedly unlucky Carter and almost halted his heart immediately. What happened after was a blur to Carter, but he woke up days later in the nearby town's medical center with bandages on his entire body and pain in his head. As it turned out, seeing as how he couldn't pay for the medical bill, the local shopkeeper was in need of assistance, so Carter was sent to work there the following day.

And thus, Carter met Moira Brown for the first time, and regretted it for the rest of his life.

But, in the long run, Carter had woken up in hospitals before. But this time, for some odd, unexplainable reason, it was different. When Carter had suddenly bolted awake, now a fifty nine year-old Wasteland Veteran, he had awoken with something new. Something that terrified him. Waking up, his hands on either side of the bed he was lying in, Carter scanned the torn, battered room and voiced a question to nobody in particular.

"Rainbow?! Rainbow, are you there?!"

Silence was his only answer as he sat panting in the room, his green eyes slowly adjusting to the area he was currently in.

He was in the corner of a rather large room, an old wooden door on the far right of him and in the other corner, where a simple desk sat adjacent to the exit, a large, faded blue tub sitting on top. Directly in front of the foot of his bed, on the far wall, was a row of cabinets and counters, various medical supplies lying almost forgotten along its surface. Carter's eyes widened in awe at the mass amounts of stimpaks in the pile. Enough to completely reinvigorate a Behemoth.

Grabbing the grey sheets lying on him, Carter suddenly grew aware of the bandages wrapped around his stomach, and as he groaned, moving about underneath the blanket, he realized that his leg was also covered in gauze, the familiar itchy sensation reaching him like the finding of a Cazadore sting.

Gritting his teeth and staring toward the ceiling, he refused the sensation to scratch at the bandages. He may have been an expert on wounds and how to handle them post-happening, but he had admittedly never dealt with a 50. caliber rifle in all his life, only seeing one in action when he was in New Vegas, witnessing only once the devastating effects of its hellish bullet when he had first gotten close to the Casino City. Following a raider in the hopes of finding a way in, his attempts were faulted when, at night, the raider had walked toward the Welcome sign. A pair of red optics popped into view from atop the structure and immediately sniped the raider, his Psycho-tic'd head violently snapping up as he collapsed next to a car.

Unseen, and out of view, Carter had decided to back off, not wanting to deal with the sniper, only twenty-nine at the time.

But, experience did not harden his knowing of guns, and not knowing how to handle 50. caliber bullets, seeing them as different kinds of wounds, affected his usually okay idea of scratching at the bandages in wariness of the pain that it might bring.

Redirecting his attention to his surroundings, Carter looked to his immediate right and found a familiar bundle of cloth and metal sitting neatly on a desk. Sitting still in the dark, blinking repeatedly, he threw the sheets off his body and swung his legs over the side of the bed, staying in this position for a time as he rubbed his hands on his face in anguish.

Sighing, his hands muddling his cheeks, he turned his head to the right and found his riot gear. Jumping to the floor, he reached for the gear and put it on as he had done so thousands of times before, taking extra care not to bump or so much as move the bandages on his body even an inch. As he finished up, beginning to place his hands into the leather gloves, he turned on his heel and found an armored man staring at him, a clipboard grasped in his hands as he stood completely still.

Carter glared in suspicion, balling his gloved fist.

He heard a low gulp from across the room, before the soldier gave a hesitant comment, "I... I see you're awake-"

"That's true."

The two sat in silence after Carter's interruption, before the soldier stepped a foot toward Carter.

His brow furrowed.

The soldier stepped back.

"We tried our hardest to pull all the lead out. I... I h-hope we did a good job-"

"Where is she?"

"Who?"

Carter gave a low growl, "The mare I was with. Where. Is. She?"

Another gulp. The soldier's grip on the clipboard faltered slightly, his naked hands shaking to the point of sub-existence.

"I don't want to kill you," Carter reassured, stepping forward, "I appreciate you removing the fucking bullets in my body, but if you don't tell me where Rainbow Dash is... I can't promise you'll be alive."

"Sir, do you even know who we are?"

Carter smirked, brow raised in a sly gesture as he observed, "Judging by the two-headed bear on your breast, and the fact that you're green as shit, I'd say you might be NCR."

The soldier gave a worried smile, eyes darting from left to right, "You'd uh, you'd be right! Ehehe..."

Noticing no response from the old man, the soldier cleared his throat and continued, "Nevertheless, Wanderer, we saved you and your friend."

Carter suddenly dropped his hostility, barely containing himself as he blurted, "What happened? How?"

The soldier raised his free hand to his mouth and coughed once again before replying, "Your friend was on the highway a few miles out of town. One of our scouting parties found her there. They were able to kill the raiders that had surrounded her."

Carter looked at the soldier incredulously, "Raiders? How'd you find them?"

"Same way they found her. She shot off the fifty cal to signal help."

Carter gave a soft smile despite the dangerous retelling, giving a thoughtful, "Clever girl," before turning his attention back to the NCR soldier and adding, "you said one of your scouting parties found her?"

The younger man nodded.

"How many of you are there?"

The soldier suddenly smiled, tensing up, "Oh! I forgot, Mister Lone Wanderer, I came here to check up on you-"

"And I'm fine."

"Well, that's... that's good! My, uh... my squad leader asked me to come find you. He's the leader of the town, he wants to speak to you-"

"About what?" Carter interrupted, glowering in suspicion.

"You're the Lone Wanderer! You're stuff of legend here!"

To this, Carter scrunched his nose, crossing his arms, "That so?" He ran a gloved hand through his swept-back brey hair.

"Yeah! You fought the Legate! You survived!"

"Don't bring that up," the Wanderer snapped, green eyes filled with rage.

"Sorry! It's just..."

Carter calmed down, stepping away from the soldier and halting the clenching of his right fist before he replied.

"I know."

The two sat in awkward silence for a few heartbeats, before the soldier gave a low humming sound, "Welllllll, alright then! If you'd uh, if you'd follow me, Mister Wanderer-"

"Just call me Carter."

"Okay," the soldier confirmed with a small smile, turning tail and walking through the door, beginning to tread across the hall, "if you'd follow me, I'll take you to your friend- what'd you say her name was?"

Following the man, Carter looked up and replied, "Rainbow Dash." Noticing the soldier's giggling, he added, "Yeah, laugh it up. But don't do it in front of her, she'll tear you a new one."

"I'm sure she will."

"No, I'm fuckin' serious. That won't be all she does either."

The soldier was suddenly struck silent as the duo continued down the hall, Carter trying all his might to contain his composure at the NCR soldier's possible mind-fuck. Nearing the end of the hall, Carter followed the man in front of him, turning a left and facing a pair of faded, green doors marked Cafeteria. Turning toward Carter, the recruit confirmed, "Your friend should be in here. When she woke up, she immediately asked us where she could eat."

"Good," Carter replied, pushing his way past the soldier and placing a hand on the door, "she needs her strength after what she went through."

He opened the door, stepped across the threshold, and found himself entering a very poor excuse for a cafeteria, despite the room being the obvious remnants of one. The walls were battered and broken, the green paint faded away almost completely, leaving behind a white color that could easily pass for bleach. Various rows of wooden benches lined the middle of the room, a handful of fatigue-wearing soldiers eating from small blue trays and chatting lightly, the echoes of their conversations resonating throughout the room and reverberating in Carter's ears.

As the door closed behind him, it gave a loud whoosh, the feasting men and women suddenly turning their heads toward the noise and beginning to stare at the old man who stood uncomfortably at the door. His green eyes wandered the room, before they found movement to his right.

Movement that was approaching him.

Fast.

Carter suddenly found his wind knocked out of him, falling to the ground by a cyan blur, her hooves grasping him tightly.

Looking down at Rainbow, he moved his hands up to the mare and held her as she buried her head into his stomach. Carter gave a wide smile, lifting his upper body off the tiled floor and stroking Rainbow's mane with his left hand. A feeling of happiness worked its way into his mind as he watched the mare hug him, the almost unnoticeable but extremely discernable sound of sobbing sounding out and vibrating his armor piece, her warm, Vault suit-clothed body rocking back and forth with each wail that escaped his armor.

Rainbow looked up at Carter, tears peeking out of the corners of her magenta eyes and an ear-to-ear grin on her face.

"H-hey Carter," her voice was shaky, but hints of utter happiness were present in her tone of voice.

"Hey Dashie," he replied, a single hand stroking the mare's rainbow mane.

"We're having pudding. You should join us."

Carter paused, looking up toward the faces of the NCR members who were staring at them, smiles on their faces. He swore he could see a tear or two among the crowd. Turning his head to the right, he found three other soldiers with trays in hand, their backs turned to him as they scooped food onto their platters from a large collection of pots. The long forgotten smell of chocolate pudding wafted from the area, bringing Carter back to his old days in Vault 101.

Turning his head back to the mare still hugging him tightly, the Lone Wanderer smirked, giving a reply to his cyan companion.

"I will Dashie. I will."

Author's Note

Welcome to Dialogue Simulator 2014! This chapter is a bit of a relaxation time for the last few chapters. Hope you enjoyed it, I'm not sure how I feel about this chapter.