Behind Blue Eyes - A Fallout Fanfiction

[Kuro]

www.fanfiction.net/s/6782712/1/Behind_Blue_Eyes

A Fallout: New Vegas fanfiction I made quite a while back. Here's the description that I used for it:

He was cold. He was calculating. But was he heartless? Arcade, Boone, Raul...Companions, or pawns? A series of unordered flashbacks from those who have interacted with the mysterious Courier, all leading up to a decision that must be made in the present.

I hope you like it. Although the chapters are in that link, i'll just post them here from time to time as well for convenience. Who knows? Maybe i'll start it up again.

[Kuro]

CHAPTER ONE

---

Boone did not know what to make of him.

Brandon, a few feet in front of Boone, walked across the Mojave Wasteland with Benny's "lucky" gun, Maria, in hand, Rex walking beside him. They had been walking for at least an hour now, heading towards Helios One for some unknown reason. Unknown to Boone, at least. Boone had never completely trusted Brandon, and the former courier didn't seem to trust him either. Not that either one of them actually trusted anyone. It was just that everything about the man seemed...off. Something always hid his eyes. His face was pale and resembled a skull. A hint of worry or anxiety never left Brandon's face, and he barely smiled or even smirked. He was able to gun down anything, whether it be a radscorpion or an unsuspecting chem addict, in cold blood, nothing on his face but that hint of worry. You didn't have to be paranoid to be suspicious of him.

But that was just on the outside. Boone had traveled with Brandon for a while, and had seen what the man was capable of. The courier had talked himself out of almost every situation he ended up in, and was able to lie without any kind of twitch or tell-tale sign. Most of the time, even Boone believed him. That was only of the things that made him untrustworthy, though. Brandon was a manipulator. A dangerous one. The NCR, House, and The Legion all thought he worked for them, and them alone. But he didn't. Boone knew better. Brandon helped people, but he didn't work for them. He didn't take orders from anyone, and whatever he did was done willingly. Boone knew that Brandon didn't agree with the views of any faction. So whenever the two of them came to an NCR-controlled location, Boone always kept his finger on the trigger. You never know. One second, Brandon might offer his help, and the next second he could shoot someone for no real reason, like at Gomorrah.

Gomorrah. No one ever forgot about Gomorrah.

Boone decided not to think about that, but there were some other things he remembered. Things like Fororn Hope, Vault 3, Bitter Springs...Wasn't sure what to think of that last one. What was Brandon thinking, bringing him there. Maybe it was his idea of a joke. Maybe he wasn't thinking at all. Tch.

Brandon checked the map on his Pip-Boy and looked back at the sniper, apparently checking to see if he was still there. Maybe Brandon was paranoid. That would've been a laugh.

Forlorn Hope...Vault 3...

Mojave Outpost.

[Shark a' Pult]

Bitter Springs, Never Forget

I like it, hope to see more.

[CJ]

What's Bitter Springs again?

No, but seriously. I love the clear distinction between Boone and Brandon. Brandon feels like a guy I wouldn't want to hang out with for a long time; that's pretty cool.

I can't wait to read more of your chapters. Excellent job so far. Is the point of view always going to be from Boone's perspective?

[Shark a' Pult]

Feb 2, 2012 16:49:23 GMT -5 CJ said:

What's Bitter Springs again?

If you have to ask, you'll never understand.

[crocoduck]

Oh man that was interesting. Keep these coming. The only thing I suggest writing wise is less commas and perhaps more description of the setting.

Otherwise: Very very good.

[Kuro]

Thank you very much for the compliments, guys. No, it will not always be from Boone's perspective. As for the setting, i'm sorry, I had posted it in a section for Fallout fanfiction, so some context clues/inference may have to be used for those who have not played the game. But look at it this way! It will be interesting to wonder what kind of a world they are in and telling it from the details they casually mention.

CHAPTER TWO

---

It was hot. Hotter than usual. Boone didn't mind, since he was dressed in a simple shirt, pants, and his 1st Recon beret. Brandon was wearing considerably heavier and sweatier armor, a leather outfit that he had found somewhere. Although he didn't complain, Brandon had been frowning for most of the day and kept wiping the sweat off his brow, careful not to bother his sunglasses.

The two of them were walking to Mojave Outpost, for some reason only Brandon knew. Boone didn't see any reason to pry, so he kept quiet, as always. It had been a while since he had seen anything affiliated with the NCR besides his beret, and as far as he knew, Brandon wasn't an enemy of the NCR.

Boone kept his finger on the trigger just in case.

Eventually, the two of them made it after spotting the large statues that marked the entrance of the Mojave Outpost. Once there, Brandon walked straight into the biggest building there, probably the administrative area. Boone followed, and found Brandon talking to someone at the front desk. Boone looked around. People were glancing at him and Brandon, some making comments like "I wish I had a First Recon guy look after me." Boone said nothing. He wasn't the kind of guy that cared about compliments.

"I'd like to talk to you about Primm." Boone glanced at the front desk. Brandon's voice was as flat and monotone as ever.

"Primm? Hayes' unit is stationed up there, were having problems with some of the NCRCF convicts. What can I help you with?"

"Hayes is undermanned and is requesting some additional support." From behind his black, opaque sunglasses Brandon stared straight at the NCR officer, who groaned.

"I'd like to help", the NCR office begrudgingly admitted, "But we can't spare any more units. We have to obtain a minimum headcount at the Outpost, orders from the West."

"Having Primm - and the trade route - under NCR control would help the West." Boone was surprised. He didn't think of that.

Major Knight smiled. "I see the wisdom in that. I'll radio for a unit to head up to Primm and offer some additional support." Boone looked at Brandon. No emotion on his face. Nothing but that hint of worry. If he was worried though, his deadpan voice certainly didn't show it. Brandon asked if there was anything he could do to help, and he and Boone were directed towards Ranger Jackson. Eventually, the two wanderers were on the road again, this time at night, doing what Jackson asked them to: Kill the giant pests antagonizing the caravans.

Boone shot the last ant, which along with the rest of the bugs hadn't given him or Brandon much trouble. Reloading his scoped rifle, he spoke.

"Primm already has a sheriff."

Brandon didn't turn his head. "Yes."

"Why send NCR over there?"

The former courier sighed, reloading his 10mm pistol. "The citizens of Primm had been taken hostage before, so they're obviously not capable of defending themselves. The NCR stationed there had been too cowardly to do fulfill their duty, supposedly hindered by their lack of men. Now that additional troops will be there, Primm will be further protected and the cowards will have no excuse for doing their duty when the time comes."

When? Boone didn't like that. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that raiders and the such will attack Primm eventually. It is best for the inhabitants to be prepared for such an occasion."

"You realize that the NCR aren't for the people, right?" It was true. On many of his missions or visits to NCR-controlled locations, he saw that the NCR had heavy taxes and fees. Heavier than necessary.

"I will work that out later, then. For now though, we should report back to Ranger Jackson." Boone nodded and the two of them walked back to the base. Along the way, Boone asked another question.

"What if the troops don't 'fulfill their duty'?"

"Then I will have to kill them."

Boone quickly raised his rifle to the back of Brandon's head. Silence for 10 seconds or so. The tension grew.

"Kill them? You're working for Caesar's Legion, aren't you? You son of a -"

"Now now. Do not rush to such extreme conclusions. I am not really going to kill them." Brandon turned around, the rifle barrel now touching his forehead, which was lacking sweat. No sweat, no tears, no nervousness, nothing. Only that usual hint of worry. "I simply wanted to see what your opinion of such an action would have been. Obviously, it is negative." Brandon gently lowered the gun with his hand, staring at Boone. "Don't worry. I will not kill any NCR soldiers unless they give me good reason to. I do not tolerate incompetence." With that, Brandon walked back to the Mojave Outpost, with a stunned, silent, and now suspicious Boone following him.

[Kuro]

CHAPTER THREE

---

"Arcade, behind you!"

Arcade turned around, yelled in surprise, and frantically pressed the trigger on his 10mm pistol until he heard a thud. A Cazador lay before him, now full of bullet holes. He and Brandon had stumbled onto a nest full of the despicable things, and there were still some more. After taking a breath, Arcade turned to the last couple of venomous monsters and shot at them, missing about a fourth of the time. Brandon, however, was significantly more accurate and decimated the enemies with his plasma rifle. When there were no more left, Arcade breathed heavily, exhausted, and looked at his companion.

"Not to sound lazy, but we've been walking for at least 3 hours now, and the cazadors weren't the only things we've had to fight along the way. Although it may surprise you, i'm not superhuman, and neither are you, so I think we should take a rest."

Arcade continued to gasp and had to resist reaching for his last bottle of purified water. They really had been walking for a while, not taking any rest-stops on the way, of course. The heavy and pointy metal armor he was wearing didn't help either, and it uncomfortably reminded him of a certain group of people...He would have loved to take it off, even for a little while. Brandon was wearing NCR patrol armor, which looked much lighter and just as, maybe even more efficient at making sure that the wearer didn't die of bullet penetration. Brandon stared at Arcade for a second, looked around, looked back at Arcade, and shook his head.

"We're too close to take a detour. Wait until we get there or pray that there's a gas station nearby with a bed in it." Brandon looked at the sun falling over the horizon. "The latter is preferred." Arcade made a sigh of exasperation, but didn't say much else besides "Sure.". To be fair, Brandon had been pretty compliant to most of his requests so far. But Camp McCarran wasn't very close.

It had been a pretty great day. Life-threatening battles, starvation, dehydration, the works. After all, there wasn't anything wrong with that, no, nothing at all. At least, that's what Arcade thought was going through Brandon's head. Besides the occasional yell of "Behind you", Brandon hadn't said much, and seemed to actually provoke the various creatures across the Mojave Wasteland on purpose. Maybe tagging along with the guy had been a bad idea. Then again, there was no telling of-

BARK BARK BARK

Arcade raised his eyebrow and looked around. Was that a-

BARK BARK BARK BARK BARK

It was! And that person. Was that a fiend? What was she doing-

A glob of energy flew past Arcade's head, prompting the researcher to stop thinking and move! He raised his gun and shot at the several dogs, big dogs, running towards him. He got some of them, but one jumped and opened his mouth, about to bite into his flesh. Arcade tried to swat the dog away with his arm, but it was too late. Arcade closed his eyes...Only to feel nothing. He opened his eyes and saw the dog trying to bite through his metal armor, but to no avail. Quickly, Arcade raised his gun to the dog's head and fired. Blood and brains scattered everywhere, even on his face. While he was wiping the blood off of his face, he heard the sound of energy weapons exchanging fire, and then a shriek. Thud. Spitting out a brain piece or two that had gotten into his mouth, Arcade looked at the figure ahead. It was Brandon, plasma rifle in hand. Seeing that all of the dogs were somehow dead via his own sub par shooting, Arcade said "Huh." and walked up to Brandon.

"Well, that was a very pleasant surprise. I didn't know that we were this close to Fiend territory. So, do we keep walking or-" SPLAT.

Arcade looked down and his jaw fell. He had stepped on the neck of the lady Fiend and now there was even more blood and guts on his armor, specifically his shoe. Better yet, the now decapitated head of the lady fiend stared right at him with her dead eyes almost and mouth wide open in a final expression of shock. Despite the fact that he was more realistic than his fellow colleagues at the Old Mormon Fort, Arcade almost threw up a little in his mouth.

"Ugh, did I? I.." The little vomit in Arcade's mouth came out with a retching sound, as Arcade bent over to do so. After a little while, he stood back up and looked at Brandon.

"Okay...Let's pretend that never happened, shall we? I'm usually not that...affected by things out here in the wastes. I know i'm bad at medical practices, but I usually don't step on people's...necks." Arcade stared at the ground and saw something that caused him to cross his arms, raise his eyebrow, and look at Brandon with a mixed look of both astonishment and skepticism.

"Brandon. Where's the head?"

"In my inventory. Why do you ask?"

"You put the head of your enemy in your inventory? Wh.."

"She had a pack of dogs. She is the first and probably only Fiend I have ever seen with a pack of animals, so I thought that I should store her head, just in case. Someone could want it. Also, the decapitation you performed made it rather convenient to store in my inventory."

Arcade was somehow both disgusted and confused by the behavior and logic of the man who he had agreed to travel the wastes with. Arcade closed his eyes, put his fingers to his hand to his forehead, sighed, and looked at Brandon.

"How far away is Camp McCarran?" Brandon looked at his Pip-Boy and then back at Arcade.

"Not long. However, there is no telling of whether or not more Fiends will attack us. Do not be caught off guard."

Brandon turned around and walked towards Camp McCarran, with Arcade following him and watching out for Fiends. While doing so, Arcade remembered Boone. He wondered if that guy was just as odd as this one. No, probably not...But was that Boone said? Something about...Gomorrah. Yeah, that was it. ...Nah. Arcade shook his head, still thinking to himself. Probably nothing.

Wait, no. There was something else. Bitter Springs. What exactly had happened there...? He remembered an NCR soldier talking about it once, and when he mentioned it to Boone, all he got was a frown and a "Don't ever say that again." Arcade wondered...Boone probably knew...

[Shark a' Pult]

Awww yeah Arcade baby.

What happened to Boone tho?

[Kuro]

It switches perspective and goes back and forth.