Nevada: High Roller (Fallout New Vegas)

Chapter 33: Solely Surviving (September, 2277)

[Author's Note: Please remember to click 'Vote' on the chapters as it really helps me out! I hope you guys enjoy the chapter! <3]

[TRIGGER WARNING: THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS THEMES OF PREGNANCY LOSS THAT ARE NOT GRAPHICALLY MENTIONED BUT STILL MAY BE UPSETTING TO SOME]

It was September 18th, and I was stood outside the East gate leading into Freeside with my two sisters.

Ever since those two, vertical pink lines had shown up on that pregnancy test, I'd kept it hidden deeply away in my duster pocket, far from Georgia or Virginia's eyes. I didn't want either of them to know. Knowing would mean admitting what had happened. 

              I couldn't explain something like that to Virginia. Georgia would ask questions. Questions I wasn't sure I could, or wanted to, answer. I didn't trust her to listen enough without jumping to her own conclusions that would only spur me into a red-hot flurry of rage only fanned by an overwhelming amount of pregnancy hormones that would probably only make me cry afterwards, and I couldn't have that. 

In an effort to throw myself back into working and a chance to walk the roads, not only for my own peace of mind but also as a chance to earn caps while I figured out what the hell I was supposed to do with the implications of those two lines, I'd taken on another job. Took a couple days, heading there and back. 

I... couldn't remember where that second job had taken me, thinking back. I was sure I'd known its name, once. At the time, I must have. When, I couldn't place. Which was weird: I always remembered where I'd been.  

      It was 'Hope,' something or other. The name, I mean. Something came after it. 'Hope,' something. The second bit, the part that came after, was what I couldn't remember.

Regardless, I'd worked -- thrown myself back into it. Not only did we need the caps, but I'd been so goddamn determined not to have my career path ruined for me just because of three men and what they'd chosen to do. 

After scraping the caps together, Georgia decided to set us off walking up Highway 95 to New Vegas that day. Her sparse belongings had been shoved into a scavenged duffle bag that she'd slung over her shoulder, and she'd put on a new shirt she'd managed to pick up from the locker of some highway station. A black button-down, open at the collar and popped open halfway. 

             I'd stuck with the same clothes I had on, never bothered scavenging anything else. Virginia was pretty happy with her pink dress, never asked for anything else, except wishing for more butterflies and flowers on her dress. I made a mental note to figure something out in that area.

Georgia had been researching, talking and gossiping with folks from Novac about job vacancies at city casinos. Gomorrah was always looking for new women. The Ultra Luxe were supposedly very picky about folks that they let join. The Tops sounded alright, pretty chilled out, but there didn't sound like there were any job openings there. From the start, Gomorrah had seemed like Georgia's best bet for work. 

Some townsfolk in Novac said she'd be a good fit there, that a woman as pretty as her would be rolling in caps pretty quick, and that set Georgia's mind on it. We'd walked there, carrying the clothes on our backs, whatever Georgia had dragged along with her in her duffle bag, and a packet of Radioactive Gumdrops in my pocket. Fizzy-lime flavor, the ones Chet had given me. The ones that momma liked.