Chapter Text
The first thing Boone notices about Secora is how sweet she is. It’s almost sickeningly so. Way too nice a person for her own good. Way too nice to be hanging around him that’s for damn sure.
He almost shoots her the first time they meet in the mouth of that stupid dinosaur. It was probably a little irrational, it very well could have been Manny or Cliff or anyone else who belonged in Novac. Being realistic it also could have been anyone else too, and Secora was definitely anyone else.
She’s already got some points in his book for not pissing herself the moment she opened the door to a rifle pointed at her chest. He could see the split second of terror in her whiskey colored eyes before she smiled at him.
“You must be B-Boone? Manny told me you m-might be j-jumpy.” She says, unflinching as he lowers the barrel of his gun. He doesn’t put it down completely though, still weary of such a stranger especially given his current predicament with the people of Novac.
“Manny says a lot of things. Who are you?” He says back to her, curt and to the point.
“I’m.. Secora. I had t-the unfortunate p-pleasure of being shot and left f-for dead in Goodsprings.” For a moment, her matter of fact tone about the situation catches Boone off-guard. He’d heard about her though, about a month or so ago. Heard she’d been shot in the head twice and was still kicking. Maybe she has what it takes to help him, he thinks to himself. What else was there to lose?
So he introduces himself to her. Craig Boone, former NCR and a husband until recently. He asks her about finding out what really happened to Carla, and she gives her word that she’ll find who sold her out, promises him she will. And for some reason he believes her.
Two nights later she brings him Jeanie May on a silver platter, and suddenly Secora becomes the most respectable person he’s met in this god forsaken desert in a long time. He decides to join her on her little crusade through the Mojave, to find the ones that shot her and left her for dead. The ones who took her memory and made her stutter. The ones who scarred her pretty little head.
Boone learns real quickly though that despite all of that, Secora would just about give you the shirt on her back if you asked her for it. She helps just about anybody who asks for it and despite how tired of living his life he is, it’s…. refreshing. It’s refreshing to see someone so untouched by the cynicism that’s taken over a lot of the wasteland, that's taken over even him. She lives and treats people with the kind of care that very few people posses anymore.
In particular he finds it interesting how nice she is to the people they meet while they follow Benny’s trail, especially refugees who’d been displaced by the incoming war with the Legion. There are always refugees in need in all the settlements and camps they manage to find themselves in. But there are also a bunch of less than savory individuals who give Boone the ick something terrible. Despite the good number of times they end up in sticky situations because some foundling was not in need of food but in need of their caps, Secora still smiles at everyone who asks for one thing or another.
Boone also finds it odd how much of her kindness is directed back at him. He’s long past deserving any kindness at all, but still Secora shows it to him anyway.
While they make camp one night on the way to Boulder City, Boone has one of the worst nightmares yet. It’s about Carla, they’re all about Carla. It starts off as a dream, a pleasant one at that. She hasn’t died yet and for once he feels happy, but eventually he remembers even in this haze of a dream that it isn’t right. Carla is gone, he killed her, and he doesn’t get to be happy. Not ever again.
The dream morphs into a nightmare then. They’re engulfed in flames and are somewhere hot, Hell probably. Carla is ripped away from him and he tries, he tries so goddamn hard to reach her but he can’t. He wants to brave the fires for her, but a voice tries to stop him. Boone wake up… He shakes it off and tries to move forward anyway. Boone… He touches the flames and they burn him so hot he can feel his skin searing. Boone wake up!
And then he shoots up off his bedroll in a mess of sweat and probably some tears. He was thrashing around so badly his back is stiff and hurts horribly. It takes him a few minutes to remember where he is, what he’s doing and who he’s with. When he looks around Secora is sitting next to him, looking at him sadly.
“Are y-you alright?” She asks him softly. It’s supposed to be a nice gesture, but he hates her feeling sorry for him. He doesn’t deserve it.
Boone grumbles an “’m fine” back to her as he tries to get his bearings but it’s not very convincing, not that he cares if it is or isn’t.
“I thought it w-would be better t-to wake you up.” She tries to explain, “I’d r-rather you be m-mad at me, t-then suffer whatever t-that was.”
Boone doesn’t say anything else after that and neither does Secora. He thought she might go back to her own bedroll to try and get some sleep, but she doesn’t move from her spot next to him. He really would prefer if she did, let him wallow by himself as he should, but she’s way too nice to do that to him. So instead, they spend the next few hours before dawn sitting together in silence.
Somewhere inside he’s grateful she doesn’t leave him alone. He wouldn’t be able to bear the thoughts he’s having right now if he were.