This is a series of one shots from Fallout 3, Fallout New Vegas, and Fallout 4. I do not own any of the characters, of course.
All One Shots are in alphabetical order for your convenience.
Anything with an ➵ and a title has been reread, and (hopeful...
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Damn Zion. Damn Joshua. Damn tribals. Just damn everything!
God this place had the worst first impression out of every destination I'd been to so far! The Divide? Sure, I'd gotten into some bad business, but still, I wasn't immediately shot at and had my entire crew killed from some weak old fashioned arrows and bullets. I sat up, rubbing my temples to try to calm my evident irritation. I leaned against the backboard of a mattress inside the tribals 'hospital', crossed arms and steam practically pouring from my ears. The tent flap opened, making me squint from the light until it was closed.
A man in a funky hat and odd getup came and stood next to the bed, hands in his pockets after moving his hat to the back of his head, "I trust the Lord made sure you're okay. Are you?"
"Me? Oh yeah I'm just fine and dandy. It isn't like my entire crew got brutally murdered and I got horribly injured and kidnapped by tribals."
He handed me a waterbottle, "You weren't kidnapped, you were saved. If we just left you, you would have died right along with them."
Taking a sip of water, I shrugged, "Oh well. Win some lose some, am I right?"
He frowned, "That's not... Look, you have a broken rib, and stitches in your calf. If you do so much as stand up, those stitches will bust and you'll be right back at the start, so you'll be trapped here for a couple days, I'm afraid. I hope my company won't be upsetting."
I chuckled, "Oh trust me, I've met worse. I travel a lot, you know. Been places outside the Mojave, Zion included."
He scooted his chair closer to the bed, checking my pulse and temperature at the same time as he spoke, "Well... Maybe you can tell me about some of them in my time here with you. You'll have to meet Joshua and one of his tribals, along with a midwife of the Sorrows. Won't take long, but Joshua will try to tell you to fight a losing battle. Don't."
I smiled, "My days of fighting are clearly over... sir." I shook my head, "What's your name again?"
He held out a hand, "Daniel."
I shook it weakly, and spent a good few hours ranting about the Divide, and he listened with an open ear and a good comment or two, saying Joshua sometimes spoke about a man named Ulysses. He was good company for the next three weeks, and surprisingly had plenty of tales of his own, telling me about his old home and the New Canaanites and whatnot. We got to know each other well, and eventually I wanted to stay in Zion. He didn't mind, but I wasn't sure why I wanted to stay until many months later.
