iv. BRUTE AND BRUTUS
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"Hey. You, uh, you got somethin' on your face."

Sylvia frowned and brought her hand up to touch her cheek. Her fingers came away slimy with some unidentifiable gunk― probably brain matter, but she couldn't exactly be sure.

"Is that all of it?" She asked, wiping her hand on her pants.

Ray winced. He wiped at her cheek with the sleeve of his jacket, then gave a small jerk of his head. "Should be."

She nodded and glanced around the convenience store they'd stormed. It hadn't been pretty. The whole place had been teeming with feral ghouls, and while they cleared it in no time, the ghouls put up a good fight... Hence the smears of unknown filth on their clothes.

Ximena had dragged all the bodies of the feral ghouls to the center of the room and looted them one-by-one. She looked up from one of the bodies and nodded to them, then went straight back to digging around in the pockets of its tattered clothes.

Joel hung back at the edge of the pile of ferals. He nudged a limp, withered hand with the toe of his boot, then looked away. When he wasn't looking, Martha May took an experimental bite out of the hand. Ghouls must not have tasted good to geckos, because she made a retching noise a moment later and scampered off.

"So," Sylvia began as she scooped cans of preserved food into her arms, "you like being a King?"

Ray shrugged and said, "Dunno anything else."

"Really? You were a King from day one?"

"You know the Garrets? The folks who run the Atomic Wrangler?" He asked, and swiped his arm along the top shelf. "They about raised me."

"James and Francine?" Sylvia grinned. "Yeah, they're good people. For Freeside, I mean."

"Nah, their parents. Jimmy and Fran are like siblings to me."

"Jimmy and Fran?"

Ray shrugged, leaning on one of the shelves. "That's what I always called 'em."

"And you got into the Kings... How?" She asked. She had to squint in the dim light, but she could've sworn she saw a faint blush on his cheeks,

"Well, I worked at the casino for a couple of years," he said. "Ran the tables as a dealer. But once I got old enough, I tried my luck with the Kings."

"And they didn't mind?"

"Francine did." He smiled faintly. "But I told her I wanted to protect Freeside, not count chips all night."

Sylvia grinned. "I bet she took that well."

"You shoulda seen her face," he said, and laughed.

She pressed a can of Pork-N-Beans into his arms, saying, "Well, if I ever go back to New Vegas, I want you with me when I hit the blackjack tables."

They rejoined Ximena and Joel in the center of the store, arms chock-full of whatever they had managed to find. Joel jumped at the chance to make something like dinner for them.

"I needed somethin' to do with my hands," he quipped as he took a handful of cans from Ray.

At least he could cook. Being the oldest of them by at least two hundred years, he knew plenty about making a somewhat edible meal in the wasteland. Sylvia grinned at the sight of him using Winston's flamethrower to char a hunk of radscorpion meat.

The night passed without much fuss. They'd worked out something like a watch schedule, and as Joel dragged himself over to one of the display windows, she heard him grumbling to himself. Martha May curled up at his feet and promptly fell asleep. Sylvia drifted off to the quiet melody he sang and the rhythmic tapping of his boot on the tile floor.

In the morning, they set out for Nevada. Or what was left of it.

Ximena had warmed up to Ray ever-so-slightly, but she still avoided speaking to him at all costs. He stayed quiet, unless Joel or Sylvia prompted him to speak. But Martha May had taken a liking to him, and Joel was happy to have her out of his hair, so Ray carried her for a good part of the morning.

They reached the California-Nevada border in the late afternoon. Sylvia found herself grinning as she crested a hill and saw the faint outline of a roller-coaster track in the distance.

"Look," she said, and nudged Joel. "Primm."

He chuckled. "Shit. Never thought I'd see that old thing again."

"Is it strange, seeing everything?"

"Only 'cause I thought I'd never come this far east again," he replied. "Guess the strangest part is knowing how close I am to home."

"Yeah," she murmured. "Same here."

She hadn't thought of it that way. Only a little further to the east lay Novac. It was hardly more than a day of travel away. Two, if they took their time.

What would it look like? Would it be any different than how she remembered it? Sure, most things in the wasteland stayed the same, but she hadn't been home in twelve years. And on top of that, the Legion was trying to push further west, towards NCR territory. How many people stuck around once that happened? Had her own family moved to escape the Legion's presence?

"Guess I'd rather have an old roller coaster outside my house than Dinky the Dino," she said.

"Are you kiddin' me?" Joel cried, and elbowed her in the ribs. "Where's your hometown pride, huh?"

Beside them, Ximena scoffed. "Be glad you're from Novac, blondie. There's not much to be proud of in Primm."

"You're from Primm?" Sylvia asked.

"Unfortunately."

"Guess I don't see what's so unfortunate about that," she said. "It's a nice little town."

"Well, some of the people aren't so nice," Ximena muttered.

She had taken a moment to glare at Sylvia as they walked, and in doing so, completely missed that Ray had stopped on the ledge. With a grunt, she ran smack into his outstretched arm. He jerked back, his eyes wide and face pale.

Well, Sylvia didn't think Ximena was that terrifying.

Ray swallowed hard and said, "You might wanna look over there."

They followed his outstretched arm to see just what he was pointing at: a super mutant idling on the cliffside. It lifted a mottled green hand and rubbed the back of its thick neck, kicking at rocks in its way. Then it turned, and they froze as its beady eyes roved over them.

Ximena had already taken aim by the time Sylvia thought to draw her rifle. The super mutant lifted a hand, but it didn't start after them. It moved its hand back and forth, and then Sylvia realized that it was waving at them.

"Hang on," she murmured, and nudged Ximena. "He's not attacking us just yet."

"Well, give him a minute to put the pieces together," she retorted.

The super mutant waved again. "Hello."

Before Ximena could say anything, Sylvia leaned over the ledge and waved back. "Hello."

The super mutant began to take a step forward, and Ximena pulled the safety on her rifle. Sylvia waved her arms quickly, shouting, "Wait, wait! Stay there!"

He pulled up short, squinting up at them. "Humans do not shoot Dale."

"Right. Right." She nudged Ximena again. "We won't shoot."

"Humans have food?"

Ximena gave a harsh laugh. "He can't be serious about that."

Sylvia began to rummage around in her pack, and she frowned. "You can't be serious about that."

"Of course I am," Sylvia said. "He's just hungry."

She lobbed a container of Cram down into the valley. It bounced off of the super mutant's shoulder and skittered across the rocks at his feet. He didn't flinch, and bent down to pick up the Cram. Rather than opening it, he squeezed the container with a giant fist, and the contents popped out.

"What did you say your name was?" Sylvia called. "Dale?"

The super mutant nodded. "Dale thanks humans. Not eaten food in... Days."

"Well, I'm glad I could help."

"Humans have names like Dale?"

"I'm Sylvia," she called, smiling. "Are you―"

A hand on her shoulder brought her away from the edge of the cliff, and she found herself face to face with a frowning Ximena. She had put her rifle away, but she kept her hand on her bandolier. A silent threat― not to Sylvia, but to Dale.

At least, Sylvia hoped it wasn't a threat on her life.

"Are you two going to chat all day?" Ximena asked. "We've got places to be."

With a sigh, Sylvia pushed herself over the edge of the cliff again. "We should really get going now, Dale."

"Wait." He started to walk towards them, then stopped. "Dale have house nearby. Small, but will fit Sylvia and friends."

She grinned as she turned back to Ximena. "Wouldn't it be nice to have a super mutant on our side?"

The ensuing argument lasted well over ten minutes, but Ximena eventually relented. As much as she wanted to ditch Dale on the cliffside, she did agree that it would be great to have an eight-foot killing machine working with them, rather than against them.

Still, as they walked, she kept her hand on the revolver strapped to her belt. Dale lumbered behind them all, talking to Sylvia. Joel chimed in with a comment every now and then, but she noticed that he kept Martha May tucked tight in his arms.

Dale hadn't lied― he did have a little shack on the cliffside. For a super mutant, he'd done pretty well for himself, although he had run out of food.

"Lucky for you, we raided a general store on the way here," Sylvia said.

Dale frowned. "Raiders?"

"No! No, um..." She laughed faintly and said, "We looted it. Took all the stuff. Lots of food."

He relaxed at that, his broad shoulders slumping. And he offered another smile when she slid a can of Pork-N-Beans his way.

Dale left after they had settled into the shack. Sylvia glanced around at everyone, rubbing the back of her neck. She did feel a little guilty, because she had signed them all up to be at the mercy of a super mutant for the night. Then she caught a glimpse of Joel dozing off in a chair, and she smiled. They really could use the rest.

Ximena had started polishing her shotgun by the door. She looked up when Sylvia sat down and cocked a brow, but she didn't say anything.

"So." After another moment, she said, "Thoughts?"

"You're an idiot, Ray's an idiot, and Joel's the only tolerable creature I'm traveling with," Ximena replied. "And when this super mutant goes berserk on us when we're sleeping, I'll kill you."

Sylvia had to admit that that was probably deserved. "It's just for a night."

"Is it? Because you have a habit of inviting people along."

"It happened once. And Ray's not so bad."

"So you're thinking about it," Ximena said. "Having this thing come with us."

Sylvia shook her head, saying, "I don't know. Maybe. He'd be a real help."

"And then you can kiss your hometown hospitality goodbye," she shot back. "People aren't going to be as trusting of super mutants as you are. We won't be allowed anywhere with him around."

"Then I'll do all the talking."

Ximena gave a harsh laugh. "You're real fuckin' optimistic, city girl."

"I'm not a fuckin' city girl," Sylvia retorted. "I spent three years in New Vegas. That's all."

"Yeah, and I've spent about two weeks there altogether."

With a long sigh, Ximena set her shotgun aside and leaned closer. "But you lived there. Not many people can say they've done that. So I'm gonna call you a city girl, because by my standards, you're a fucking city girl."

Sylvia only nodded. She didn't catch anything else after that― no, she was completely lost in thought. Was she a city girl? Where was her home, anyway? Novac? New Vegas? Modesto?

Maybe Ximena had a point. Ray didn't bother acting like he wasn't a city kid when he was obviously a King. Joel might have spent plenty of time in New Vegas, but he was really just a mercenary who went wherever the wind took him. Still, she did the same thing, and she was still called a "city girl." Why was that?

With a huff, she sat by Winston and began to tinker with his mechanical arms. At the very least, Mr. Handy models couldn't judge her.

Dale came back with a bark scorpion clutched in his enormous green hand. Joel had woken up to the sound of the door swinging open, and he grinned as he took the carcass from Dale. He was rapidly establishing himself as their go-to cook.

He made something like a meal out of the scorpion meat and some InstaMash. When they'd eaten all they could and cleared off the table, he set a deck of cards down and glanced around the shack.

"Y'all want to play a round of Caravan?"

What started as a round of Caravan rapidly devolved into something much more catastrophic. Caravan was already the card game from hell, in Sylvia's opinion, so she was happy to simply watch the chaos unfold.

Though, to prove she wasn't as much of a city girl as they all suspected, she did play a few rounds. Unfortunately, Joel didn't pull his punches or offer any sort of advice, so she quit pretty soon into their little tournament. Ray did, too, but she suspected he let Ximena win their match.

And Ximena did well for herself... Until Joel beat her, which was when she declared that he had decades more experience than she did and therefore was cheating. Sylvia grinned as Ximena tossed a bottle cap at his head, which he swiftly pocketed.

"None of you would make it in New Vegas," he declared, grinning. "You gotta be quicker than that if you wanna win big."

Ray chuckled. "Guess I'm not used to being the one on the other side of the table."

"From the looks of it, you sure ain't."

Joel laughed as he pocketed another bottle cap, this one thrown at him by Ray. Still laughing, he cried out, "Keep 'em comin', baby. I could use some more pocket change!"

A third bottle cap bounced off the back of his head. When he whirled around, rubbing his head and cursing, Sylvia only grinned at him and shrugged her shoulders.

"Thought I'd join in."

He scoffed and moved to hurl the bottle cap back her way, then caught himself. In a lofty voice, he said, "Y'know what? I don't think you even deserve to have this back."

"You're breakin' my heart, Joel," she replied, and gave a long, drawn-out sigh.

Dale chuckled from across the shack. He had taken to sitting with Winston, watching them with wide green eyes. But mostly, Sylvia heard him demanding song upon song from Winston whenever his mechanical humming stopped.

As she laid on the floor that night, half-awake and rapidly drifting off to sleep, she heard Dale's hushed voice say, "Johnny Guitar."

Seconds later, with a small cough, she heard Winston start up his typical rendition of Johnny Guitar, and she heard a sigh from Dale. She could have sworn he even bobbed his head along to the song's rhythm, if she stared at him long enough in the darkness.

She pushed herself to sit up and scooted over to where Dale was sitting on the floor of the cabin. He jumped at the sight of her, but she patted his arm and smiled.

"You like music, huh?"

Dale nodded. "Not much music anymore. Not here."

"Have you ever lived somewhere where there was music?" She asked.

"The vault."

Sylvia stared at him for a good while before she remembered to speak. "You were a vault-dweller?"

"Was." Dale shrugged. "Then the Master came. Dale not return to vault after the Master came."

"What was it like?" She asked. "Were you one of the first people who entered the vaults? What did you do down there, anyway?"

Dale went quiet, his brows knit together. "Dale not remember much. Work. Ladies. Then, the Master. Then..."

He shrugged. Sylvia frowned, watching his large fingertips trail along the wood grain of the floorboards. When the silence had gone on too long, she gave him a gentle nudge, a smile playing on her lips.

"Ladies, huh?"

Dale ducked his head, but even in the dim light from their dying fire, she could see him grinning. She caught a glimpse of his distorted reflection in Winston's shiny, spherical body.

"Soon," he said, "Dale will go to Jacob's Town."

Sylvia cocked her head. "Jacob's Town?"

"Yes. Salvador says Jacob's Town is home for super mutants. Dale will go and meet Jacob."

"Well, he's not wrong," she said. "Who's Salvador, anyway?"

Dale smiled. "My friend."

He went into a long story about this "Salvador." According to Dale, he was a Great Khan that tried to get Dale to join up with their tribe. And, when he did, Salvador looked out for him. Not that an eight-foot super mutant needed a guardian angel.

Jacob's Town. Jacobstown. Sylvia didn't know much about it, but she did remember hearing some gossip on the Strip. Something about a colony of super mutants living on top of a mountain to the west. Apparently, the rumors were true.

"You know, maybe after all this, we can take you there," Sylvia said.

Dale smiled. "Dale thank human."

"Thank me after we get there." She patted his shoulder and added, "Get some rest, big guy."

He nodded and stood up. With a large, green hand, he patted the dome of Winston's body and mumbled a goodnight. Once he had lumbered off to the other end of the cabin, Sylvia grinned and patted Winston as well. He only gave a disgruntled huff and muttered something about fingerprints smudging his nice, shiny outer dome.

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"Oops. Might be too far north."

"What? Let me see."

"Well, that's Goodsprings up ahead, isn't it?"

Sylvia crouched in the shade of a nearby mesa. With the cool rock to her back, she sighed and raised her canteen to her lips. At least she had a little entertainment while she drank― Ximena and Ray had struck up an argument about their current position.

Joel sat down beside her, groaning as his stiff joints smarted. "Don't get old."

"Sorry, but I'd like to live past thirty-five," she said, grinning.

"Well, that's fine. Don't become a ghoul, then."

"Will do."

He chuckled and accepted the canteen as she offered it to him. Together, they watched Ximena and Ray go back and forth a bit more before Ray threw up his hands and walked off. Ximena watched him go, a pleased smile on her face.

Ximena kept her distance from Dale, but she seemed to have come around. He did a great job of scaring off any critters that might have tried to make a meal out of them, and the ones that were stupid enough to attack were swiftly dealt with. Sylvia caught her grinning once, as Dale picked up a radscorpion by the stinger and smacked it against the hard ground.

They had walked on for hours, and it was only when the sun began to set that they decided to find a spot to camp out. As always, Joel volunteered to gut the radscorpion carcass Dale had been lugging around all afternoon.

"There's a hill up ahead," Sylvia had said. "It's probably our best bet for tonight."

Nobody seemed to mind that. The hill couldn't have been more than a couple hundred yards away, and it wouldn't take long to set up camp. Better yet, with Dale around, their watches got a bit shorter.

They hadn't been walking five minutes when Ray said, "Hold on now. You see that?"

Someone was coming their way. They didn't run into many people on the road, or out in the wasteland. And the person ahead of them didn't balk at the sight of Dale, which only made them all the more interesting.

They couldn't make out much in the twilight. The person in front of them was a man. He had a rifle strapped across his back and a beret on his head. And he wore a long black duster. Conveniently, it hid any other weapons he might have been carrying.

Sylvia glanced over to Ximena. "Permission to be friendly?"

"Yeah. Whatever," she said.

Sylvia noticed that her fingertips twitched towards the revolver on her belt. Still, she took a handful of steps forward, waving her arm.

"Hey!" She called, smiling. "Awful late to be traveling, huh?"

The man froze, but nodded. "I'm trying to make it to Goodsprings, if you know the way."

"You're not from 'round here, are you?"

"No, no," he said. "Just got a little lost."

She frowned. "It shouldn't be that hard to find, if you're a native. Just keep the big rollercoaster to your back."

"I―" The man gave a shaky laugh. "Yeah, of course. Guess I'm just tired."

Ximena stepped forward and said, "You with the Mojave Express?"

He blinked. "What?"

"The Mojave Express." Joel had drawn his revolver, and he gestured to the man's duster with the barrel. "Ain't you with them, Courier?"

The man went pale. He swallowed hard, but adopted a smile right after. It didn't look too convincing. Ximena drew her own weapon.

"You know, there's been a whole lot of unrest lately," she said. "The Legion just keeps getting closer and closer. Don't think anyone this side of the Fort wants that."

"Of course not," the man said, and laughed again. "The Legion―"

"Caesar's Legion."

"Ca― Caesar's Legion," he said. "Right. Caesar's Legion. Well, uh, I can't say I want to see them any closer to New Vegas than they are now."

Joel nodded. "You got a name?"

The man's entire demeanor changed the moment Joel asked that question. His shoulders slumped as he let out a long sigh and raised his hands. He glanced around at all five of them, but his gaze lingered on the two revolvers that Joel and Ximena had been casually brandishing.

"If I tell you, you have to swear you won't shoot me."

Ximena scoffed. "You don't get that luxury."

"Alright." After a long pause, and with another heavy sigh, he said, "My name is Tiberius."

Sylvia drew her own weapon. Tiberius. She should have known. How many of the Legion's spies dressed as mail couriers to sneak around NCR territory?

She remembered something one of them had said to her on that fateful night. Sitting against a post, her hands tied behind her back, she had heard those men talking. One of them made a remark about Caesar's orders. Really, he'd whined about how Caesar forbade his legionaries to kill couriers, simply because of the sheer number of Legion spies that used that exact disguise to get around.

Nobody else had moved. The man didn't lower his hands, though he winced under their gaze. Sylvia never took her eyes off of him. To her left, she heard Ximena make a noise between a scoff and a laugh.

"Well, alright, Tiberius," Joel said, and raised his revolver. "Glad you were honest."

birdie's comments!

the moment this chapter title popped into my head was glorious actually. i felt like archimedes shouting "eureka!" in the bathtub. and its not even that clever LMFAO

guys i swear ximena and sylvia will become friends. they are slowly getting there. maybe. it depends on whether or not sylvia can stop adopting presumably obvious threats to their safety into their little travel group

i say "planning is going well" and this is what i mean by planning:

and this is t,, totally not,,, totally not stuff from a potential other fnv fic,,, featuring our very own crisped up beef jerky stick mormon missionary,,,

ok i've given out my shameless self promo my work here is done peace out i love you