My eyes opened, only to find the faint glow of my visor’s heads-up display. The words Hostile Targets 0, Civilian Casualties 0, were displayed briefly in the top left corner and I got a strange feeling that my seemingly flawless engineering may actually have had some flaws. It had marked that trapped raider green and…

I shoved the thought out of my head. The thing must have relabelled her hostile without me noticing. Looking beyond the words as they flickered out of existence and blinking dust from my eyes, I noticed a smooth warmness pressed against my flattened muzzle. It was as stiff as a wooden plank, yet it was twitching softly. My eyes steadily blurred into focused to see the image of a stark red flower, that was, in fact, the tip of a golden key. A cutie mark? It didn't take me long after that to realize I'd landed on top of my would-be savior, and now my face was both satisfyingly and uncomfortably close to her haunches.

Usually, I'd have no problem, but… Raider victims. No touchy, touchy.

Shakily, I stood up forcing debris to tumble off of my back and fall in a dusty heap on the stained carpet. Looking about, I fought not to vomit at the sight of the room, painted with a splattered coat of singed red. Fortunately, none of the walls had collapsed, although I guessed having a defensive office in a factory of potentially armed employees was standard back before the bombs. Even so, I could still hear no gunfire past the soft ringing in my ears. Either Star had gotten the last of the fuckers below, or the timely explosion had just shut everypony up for a few minutes.

Regardless, I'd find out soon enough. Yet my mind was unnervingly focussed elsewhere, and there was no amount of self-restraint I could throw out to reel it in. She'd sacrificed her own foal? Raider or not, that was beyond barbaric, and for what? Mister Red's words, 'they try to have me killed daily' came to mind, yet a great deal of my mind refused to believe that bomb had been set up for such a purpose.

Did that foal even know? Or did it just think that the mine was some sort of metal apple? I stared coldly into the scorched corner as if hoping my gaze could revert time if I just tried hard enough.

Fuck you wasteland for handing the incarnation of my one rule a live grenade and just walking away like it doesn't matter, while just waiting for it to blow up in the face of my morals! I internally screamed.

Still, like a fool, I'd just held onto that grenade until it went off in my face. I took a breath, scowling at the thought before some sense finally reached me. Damming up my rage I looked down to the cowering mare between my legs. She was curled up, stiff, and whimpering behind her tightly locked eyes.

"I'm sorry! Please, just stop!" she begged in a faint whisper.

I shook my head free of the horror I'd just witnessed. They were dead, and I couldn't bring them back. But goddesses damn me if I don't help the one I'd saved.

No, Dragonfire, don't let it get to you! You might as well just shoot yourself right now if that's the case. That bold mental statement was enough to silence my guilt, at least for now.

"Don't worry, I'm not gonna hurt you," I said as kindly as my subdued anger would allow.

The mare opened one lime green eye hesitantly, giving a wet snivel.

"You... You're not one of them are you?" she stuttered in a frail voice as she looked at me carefully.

I managed a smile; seeing her alive, at least, was reassuring. Ignoring the foul things that had transpired around me allowed me to smile because I'd still saved at least one pony. She tensed before she finally relaxed, shivering as she did so. Her other eye opened and looked up to the fallen desk, the likes of which thankfully hid the profound amount of charred crimson paint from her view. Before she could notice I stepped back slowly and levitated the table towards the epicenter of the bloody explosion, covering it best I could. Nopony needed to see that, especially a pony who had just been through what I could only guess was hell.

Her head twitched back to me, eyes wide with fright only to calm slightly when she discovered that I wasn't directing anything at her.

"What are you doing?" she sniffed, her voice growing firmer. Still, her shimmering gaze begged the goddesses that her rescue wasn't some kind of cruel joke.

"Urm... I'm getting you out, of course. Can't leave you here," I improvised swiftly, hiding my true motivations carefully.

She flinched again at the idea, before shivering violently. I winced slightly, not really feeling like I was making a good first impression. Or it may just be the fact that, as of late, she was only used to seeing ponies that raped and abused her before using her as a meat shield.

Thanks, brain, good evaluation.

Regardless it was at least partly right, and the last thing I wanted was to be seen as any of those horrid things. Beating back all my negative emotions to the best of my ability, my horn flared again, and with a cool dash of air against my sweat-laden mane I lifted off my helmet. Maybe now I'd look more like a pony and not some Steel Ranger wannabe, not that I wanted to look anything like any of those...

Fuck, never mind!

My timid, new friend looked at me cautiously and she seemed to relax a little more, her quivering eyes scouring every detail, noting everything that may give away what kind of pony I truly was.

Her ears perked sharply at the sound of rabble beginning below, as did mine. So Star had bested the raiders then, not that I'd had any doubts.

I glanced back to the door and said, "Looks like you're all free now." I looked back to the mare who met my abrupt positivity with weary skepticism.

She glanced away again, assessing the room before finally opening her muzzle.

"This isn't a joke, is it?" she asked.

I shook my head.

"Not unless it's on me," I told her kindly, knowing full well that I was gonna be suffering from what I'd just seen in here for awhile.

Trying not to fall into that trap just yet, I offered her a friendly hoof. Once again my good willed motion was met with a cautious glare. If she'd seen this gesture many times recently, I doubted it had been for the same good reason. Moments of caution later, however, she proved she was still enough of a free pony to take my aid.

"I'm Dragonfire," I told her while helping her to her hooves.

She swallowed nervously before swiftly replying.

"Cherry Pin."

She said the name as if it tasted bad, then again, I doubted she'd thought she'd get a chance to say it again. Nevertheless, I simply nodded in response.

"Nice to meet you," I said with the widest smile I could muster, placing my helmet back on my head with my magic.

All the smiles in the world weren't gonna do me any good, I just needed to get out of here. I'd done my job now and I had moved on, just like always. Otherwise, the wasteland would just eat me up. But what I saw, that wasn't a monster. That colt wasn't a... I'd failed to save him, I'd had a chance to do more. Enough time to think, and I'd failed.

I shook my head.

Never let it get to you again! I cursed myself internally. Never let the world’s shit make you angry again!

I knew that slipping back into those dark memories was not a place I ever wanted to go again, and for once my recriminating brain was more than in agreement.

I kicked at another pile of pink ash as we passed it by; another shot, another disintegrated Bloatsprite. Fortunately, the putrid floodwaters were shallower here on the east side of town. I was grateful for that more so, as behind us trudged about thirty or so exhausted slaves. Most were still able to walk, though some small foals were being carried on the backs of what I assumed were their parents. Upon finding my way back down to the recently opened raider graveyard, I spent a few long minutes opening cages and hoping I wouldn't have to carry any live pony.

Not me, not now, and by the goddesses, not a foal. All I wanted to do was get these ponies back to town, assuming there was something left of it, and try and forget all about today. Apparently, the whole Ironshod factory setup was just a ploy by Mister Red, whoever the fuck he was supposed to be, to keep the town contained.

Give a pony a carrot and you'll feed them for a day, give a pony a carrot farm… I thought of it as something along those lines. More like to keep the town weak, but alive and keep taking ponies that come in.

At first, I didn't buy it, but that cool buck did strike me as the clever type; give him an army of raiders, and that sounded like what a mind like his would do. Yet he was a slaver, a member of the Brazen Skulls no less, so why did he need to work with raiders? Not to mention this far away from Crimson Springs, the city those specific slavers occupied. The term under new management didn't bode well with me either. I'd never really any idea who was in charge of that rabble, but I did know it had been roughly the same for the past few decades before I came here. This? Well, this was a worrying break from that norm, like a small fracture in a thin sheet of ice, the first step in a complete shattering.

"So what's really got you all quiet?" Star asked, seeming to notice my thoughtful silence.

I'd told him I'd seen a hostage killed. But Star hadn’t worked with me as long as he had without being able to sense when I was lying. I'd seen a lot of good ponies die before but their deaths hadn't shaken me like this. Yet his attitude was different too. He had yet to make a single wry comment about how many raiders he'd killed or how many ponies he'd saved. If I'd been all fine and dandy, we'd have been arguing about that all the way to Bucktown. No, he knew something was up, and I was in the wrong for not opening up about it.

I took a deep breath, knowing I was gonna have to tell him what happened eventually, so why not now?

"Star, those bastards murdered a foal in cold blood," I uttered bluntly, the words tasting foul in my mouth.

I somewhat hoped the sound of many hooves in the water would drown out the rushed confession. My eyes turned upward to the large buck for just a moment to see him looking down at me, then my gaze scarpered timidly.

"Dragon, you helped save a dozen foals back there and they're raiders that's what they... "

"Its mother killed it!" I growled angrily, kicking my hoof through the water as though venting my frustration regarding what had happened might somehow lessen my anger with the fucking sick psychopathy that these raider scum were.

Star fell silent, and the horrifying image played out in my mind several times before I finally calmed myself. It wasn't just that. In fact, I had no idea if my blunt assumption was correct. The real reason as to my furious anger was that I'd failed. Although, that wasn’t what was hitting me hardest either. No, it was what she'd done. It was more than monstrous, and for what? To kill a leader the others didn't like? She'd sacrificed a tiny foal for that? I wasn't angry, that had faded into a feeling of heartache, I was devoid of most feelings as I thought about it. How can anypony go to so much trouble to make somepony else and then…

I stopped, my eyes closed and threatening tears. I couldn't do that. I couldn't. I couldn't give birth to a foal. Not like what that fucking raider had done, then killed it in cold blood and with no hesitation.

Suddenly, the sound of Star's hooves in the water stopped, and I felt a firm hoof over my back. My eyes opened to see three of the armored tree trunks that were his legs still in the brown sludge beside me, the other laid gently over me. I sniffed, shaking away my tears before they could clog up my visor.

"Hey, now you don't go beating yourself up over this stuff again, it's the goddesses' loss for not letting there be another great pony like you out here," he told me comfortingly.

I sniffed, my muzzle widening before quivering into a smile. He was right, I was too good, it was their loss. More ponies like me and the wasteland would be a brighter place in no time.

Unless it was that metaphorical fucker that was preventing me from... No, brain, just shut up!

I gave Star an appreciative nod before he lowered his hoof.

"I still got you, you big oaf," I called to him as he continued along the street.

I remained still for a long moment, the first of the slaves passing me with curiously sympathetic looks before I finally released my mind back into the wasteland. There my eyes fell upon a familiar, pink unicorn mare with flower blossom, key cutie mark. She was in a slightly better state than the rest of them, although I didn't think it my rightful place to judge how serious her torture had been. Another thing I tried not to think about, was the fact several of them had not survived. Sugar Cube, Sun Beam, and…

Cherry Pin! I recalled her name urgently.

The mare I’d recently saved was still shivering violently, her ears and eyes twitching nervously in every direction. The look on her anxious face said she didn't want to be here, near ponies, and yet she didn't want to be alone either. Not that she struck me as a pony who'd admit it. After seeing her assault her captor, I got the feeling that, deep down, she wasn't just some submissive, victimized type, even though she had been traumatized. Furthermore, she was still limping slightly. I'd offered one of my healing potions for the wound on her hind hoof knowing that magical healing bandages would most likely not keep out many of the infections that were surely lurking in the foul water.

She'd taken a while to assess whether or not my offer was genuine, and even longer to finally accept it, but it was nice to see she trusted me enough not to assume I was giving her poison or something.

"Hi," I introduced abruptly, slipping into the crowd beside her.

Once again she looked wary, but far less towards me than she had toward Star or any of the other larger slaves for that matter.

"Urm, hi," she replied, her tone giving me the vibe that I was somehow making this really awkward.

I swallowed nervously.

Come on Dragonfire you know how to talk to ponies, even recently escaped, traumatized, slave ponies.

"That... That back there, that was quite impressive. If it weren't for you, we might all be..."

Great conversation starter Dragonfire! Just go ahead and remind her of the most intense situation of her recent life.

As expected, she just looked at me with those cowering eyes, yet ever so slightly she blushed and looked away. My ears perked, she'd liked that. She was humbled ever so slightly.

"No really, you'd have to be one brave pony to assault that guy like that," I added encouragingly, feeling strangely like some sort of fanfilly.

Cherry's puzzled gaze looked back at me, the hints of caution slowly fading

"You really think so? I mean I was only there for a few days but they..." She instantly shut up at that, the memory of whatever she had gone through, caused her to put her guard back up and our conversation ended abruptly and no less awkwardly as it had begun.

Time would tell whether or not this trauma would make her stronger, or torment her mind and spirit until her death, regardless of how proud of a pony she was.

Damn it Dragonfire! You were doing so well. My mind groaned.

The term so close to perfect it hurts was being tossed about in there somewhere too, literally making my head ache.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to upset you," I apologized, feeling both awkward and uncomfortable, trying to dismiss the topic with an equally awkward wave of my hoof.

The sharp emotional sting swiftly twisted into twinge of sympathy for her, maybe it was because she was kinda cute. I had gotten quite a close-up look after all, or maybe it was the fact I'd saved her? She made me feel at least a bit more confident in my abilities.

"It's my own fault they caught me in the first place, I should have been more careful," she sighed, looking downcast.

Yeah, Mister Red fell right into the trap of not being careful too. My mind muttered Oh, hardy, har, brain, that's not helping!

I shook off the snide joke, instead focusing on contemplating exactly what she was telling me. Her fault? I'd heard enough ponies in her situation say that to last a lifetime and even more who'd fallen to the depression of the idea, not discounting myself.

No, that was just... My mind shut up before it could finish, like a timid foal that had just senselessly blurted out a profanity to its mother. Yeah, keep it that way, brain. I warned dangerously.

That was not the point of this, she was. Cherry Pin, such a nice name, not tainted by the idea of killing or death like so many others. I wasn't gonna let her fall into the same trap I had years ago. The first thing I knew, telling her this wasn't her fault (even if I was sure it wasn't) was not going to work.

"You got anywhere to go?" I asked, avoiding the previous topic.

She looked back up at me closely.

"I... I came from Buck, I... I came out here after my friends but..." She faltered, eyes dropping to the sludge under our hooves.

I couldn't help but feel that the two dead mares I'd seen dead in Mister Red’s office were those friends of hers.

Sugar Cube and Sweet Sun. Brain, by the goddesses you make an effort to remember those names.

Now she was gonna have to live with the fact that she'd failed them. I also was gonna have to admit I'd failed all of them too.

No, damn it! I promised myself that I wasn't gonna fail her!

"Where are you gonna be staying in Buck tonight? You can tag along with me if you want." I offered calmly, before wincing at the many ways I knew that could be interpreted.

Her initial expression almost confirmed my fears, but then she managed a smile.

"You sure? I mean if it's..." she stuttered timidly.

I dropped the heartfelt smile ever so slightly, partly not to seem insensitive to the fresh grief of having lost two of her friends, but also so that I might not come across as an utterly shameless flank chaser.

"It's no problem," I assured her.

It would be no problem. I mentally added, addressing the more promiscuous parts of my consciences sternly. She is a mare, she is cute, but she is not, I repeat is not, any kind of sex toy. Nor was she a buck, so that disqualified any other possibilities. Got that, brain!

I finalized with a mental admonishment, much like the stern reproach of a parent who caught their foal doing something contrary to the values that they try to instill within their offspring.

My mind's more perverted side scurried back to its den like a frightened Radroach, much to my satisfaction. Then another loud crack rang out, startling every pony around me. My head perked, ears standing to attention as I realized that it was a gunshot.

"Halt, who goes there? This settlement is under guard." A buck's voice called from a tower up somewhere in the ruins above.

Bucktown? So it had survived?

The revelation caused me much concern, as did my thoughts regarding Mister Red and whatever operation he'd been running out there. The evening had swiftly fallen into twilight over the ruins, scattered about which were several newly improvised lookout towers. An emphasis on new. Most of them had been torn down by multiple Raider attacks as evident by the mangled rubble at their bases. It seemed the same NCR hospitality package had been gifted here as well. But that only resulted in a greater awareness that a population center of some sort was likely located nearby the lookout towers were located, which increased the chances that more ponies could be captured for the raiders and by extension Mister Red and the rest of the Brazen Skulls.

Still, after a warning shot, another rather stupid gesture given the fact that if we were raiders, why would we be bringing the slaves back? We'd managed to get everypony through safely. Just ahead of us, the slaves were tentatively making their way back into the battered walls of Bucktown. The town was formed from a steep pile of concrete scraps and rusted rebar from the surrounding ruins, not to mention the razor wire along the top. The place looked more like a prison than a town, which was made all the more menacing by the crimson light of the dying desert sun. Still, I felt incredulous that not even these incompetent foals of a security force couldn't protect it.

Even so, the improvised defenses still bore the many scars of heavy weaponry and even explosives, the latter undoubtedly the Brazen's contribution to the siege effort. Beyond, the sounds of civilization chattered and the glow from fires illuminated the small columns of rising smoke. Star Strike was first through the gate after the majority of the slaves, several of which still lingered nervously outside. A yellow coated stallion sat in a small concrete bunker at the gate, and he'd been greatly surprised to see more ponies coming in then being dragged out.

"Savin' slaves, good on ya'," he called to Star with a tone of respectful approval.

The larger stallion merely nodded in acknowledgment of the yellow buck’s complement.

"Indeed," he rumbled, clearly soured by the guard's enthusiasm towards the whole ordeal.

I'd admit that the slaves weren't as happy as I thought they should be, given that they were not only free, but they were returning to the comforts and familiarity of home. These ponies were back home, but for how long? I knew it would take a long time for any of them to even heal, or at least cope with the treatment they'd received from the raiders and the horrid sights which they’d seen. Deep down, I really wanted to help them all, but for that, I'd need a lifetime, a lot of which had already passed me by. The pink mare standing beside me however, I wanted to try saving.

Cherry didn't seem to find the wall very appealing either, and she seemed to regard the inhabitants which it guarded with even less esteem. After arriving at the entrance to the town, the pair of us had remained on one side of the lightly flooded street while we watched all of the other ponies head on in. We'd waited outside of the flimsily fortified hamlet for about half an hour now and it was becoming increasingly late, not to mention cold. Despite the improvised watchtowers and at least one less Raider hideout being out there, being out here at night was not on the top of my list of things I wanted to do.

You could be worse off. My mind retorted, and I winced knowing for once it was right.

Breaking that depressing line of thought best I could, I looked over with worry at the anxious pony beside me. She regarded the walls cautiously, her ears erect and rotating like broken reception dishes of the old world. I took a deep breath, the warm, foul-smelling desert air wasn't at all refreshing, but at least it was better than the foul sewage on the west side of the ruins.

"You know, I don't think anypony in there wants to hurt you," I stated calmly, pointing a hoof at the battered walls.

She only seemed to flinch more at the word hurt, before swallowing hard.

"I know that, it's just..." Her reply was cut off by a slight sniffle. "I was the one who left and I was the one who got myself caught," she admitted reluctantly.

I cocked my head curiously.

Dragonfire you know telling her it wasn't her fault is a bad idea, for now anyway.

Regardless, I still wanted to know why she was blaming herself. Although I supposed every pony had asked the same question of me at one point.

Brain, no! I mentally admonished, then frowned.

My muzzle was unable to formulate words while I wore the disapproving expression. Cherry looked up, her quivering gaze passing by me before hitting the walls, then she looked back. I forced a smile.

Oh, goddesses please let her sort this obstacle out for herself.

"You are... You’re really something, aren't you?" she told me.

Damn it! Why did you have to go and twist my prayer into something else, this wasn't what I'd asked for, and you ... Somepony up there, you know it!

I glanced away as her cautiously inquisitive eyes regarded me. Of course, I'd like to consider myself something. As for what that something was? Well, usually it would just be a better pony than everypony else, in more ways than one.

"Thanks," Cherry Pin's frail voice murmured.

I paused, now it was my turn to be in disbelief. She'd thanked me? No, I hadn't expected it or tried to make any of them feel obliged to give it. But she had, and it was nicely sincere.

Wow Dragon, you must be the sappiest merc in the wasteland. My mind snickered.

I just pushed the wry thought aside. All I really cared about was the fact that she'd said it, the fact she felt I'd earned it.

"For saving me, that is," she added quietly, waving a hoof tentatively and bowing her head as a hint of embarrassment dawned on her face.

As my satisfaction grew, my pride didn't diminish. I didn't feel she was a trophy, a trophy won by the victors of the battlefield. Instead, she was a pony, a pony that was still alive and not suffering at the hooves of the raiders because of me, and despite the massive payment on the horizon, this was somehow payment enough.

"So are you up for heading in?" I asked hopefully, pointing a hoof at the scarred walls.

The pink unicorn nodded, albeit still subtly, seeming to use the chance to belay her embarrassment. Well, there was still some confidence there at least, and a good deal of the pony she really was underneath. While I'd no right to judge her mental state or the length of her torture, I couldn't help but feel slightly relieved at the fact it didn't seem quite as extreme as her fellow slaves. For now, I was just happy she was brave enough to come into town, I could work on her confidence later

Yeah, we could.

No, brain, that's not what I meant! I mentally berated my perverted gray matter as my mind conjured another suggestive image of the mare. In bed...

Oh' for goodness sake, you perverted thoughts, just shut the fuck up!

Without giving my mind any time to retort, I turned toward the town entrance with Cherry following closely beside me. Her steady hooves on the damp asphalt was a welcome reassurance.

"Well, how ya' doin' there?" the yellow buck by the gate asked happily, leaning forward upon a rocking chair.

He was lucky Cherry had greatly improved my mood, if he'd looked at me anything like he was now before I’d rescued her, he'd be in for far more of a show. That said, I didn't acknowledge his presence other than to ensure that he didn’t try any funny business. Instead, I turned to the pink unicorn behind me. She was trying not to look at the mass of concrete attempting to lock her in with the other ponies.

"Why, y'all gone an' rescued our would-be savior too," the guard stated, whistling.

Cherry flinched, her ears catching the sound of his mocking tone of voice before she lowered her head in shame, her frown deepening, and hot, bitter tears hitting the ground beneath her hooves.

"It’s nice to see you too, Skipper." She winced and hearing the choked hitch in her reply I glancing up at the buck.

Skipper, just whistled again as she came close to him.

"It's mah' pleasure miss."

I focused my eyes and glared with disapproval, my muzzle scrunching in a display of hostility, my ears rotated and laid flat against the top of my head.

"It that so?" I questioned sharply.

Cherry closed her eyes and, looking secretly confident that I would protect her from any possible outlash this stallion might make, settled beside me.

Skipper rocked back, whistling again.

"Sure is, that one went out thinkin' she could bring all them slaves back single hoofed. Ah mean, good on ya' girl, but ya' ain't no fighter, y'all are a waitress mare through an' through."

He didn't seem to notice my dangerous glare at the latter part of his little explanation. How could anypony fault her for trying, no matter how dangerous or stupid it was? I didn't see any of them lifting so much as a hoof to help the half of their town that had been stolen into slavery. Besides, it wasn't like they fell under the category of fighters any more than she did. I moved to voice that opinion, but a look at my new companion dissuaded me. This wasn't what she wanted to be talking about, in fact, there was a good chance it was the reason she was so anxious about coming into town in the first place. My simmering frustration at her treatment was quelled by that, but not forgotten. Besides, with that innocent look, she was unbearably cute.

Platonically! I added swiftly, as my thoughts tried to run off with the idea again.

"Where'd Star go?" I asked Skipper, trying not to growl.

The buck swung forward resting his forehooves upon the concrete barricade between us.

"What? Ya' big buck friend? He made straight for the saloon," he told me, pointing a hoof to the group of ponies congregating in the center of town, then to the old pre-war ruin that was boldly labeled, Cocktail's.

At that, I relaxed my dangerous stare.

"Thank you," I expressed my gratitude politely.

"Anytime, miss," he muttered back, almost subconsciously.

It didn't take me many guesses to know where his attention was fixed now the pair of us had our backs to him. Ahead, I could see the majority of the slaves. Some had already found their way back to what must have been their previous home, others sat timidly in the muddy town center, like a flock of nervous birds ready to scarper at the first sight of danger. Beyond them I could see several of the security ponies, as well as the town's part-time sheriff, seemingly debating what to do with the many ponies, ponies they'd probably guessed were all dead.

Around the rabble, on the edge of the muddy square, were several structures. All were shattered pre-war ruins, shabbily renovated over the years with planks of wood and concrete taken from the buildings outside the walls. This, I recognized thankfully, was also the only large piece of dry land in the whole of these goddesses damned ruins. Directly ahead was the town hall, that doubled as a sheriff's office if the need ever arose. Formerly a police station it was now the second largest and most secure structure in the town after the equally large Buckaroo's casino beside it.

The rusted sign and barred walls of the place paled in comparison to some of the larger casinos I'd seen up north, and the mere fact it had once been situated beside a police station only dragged its appeal down further. Nevertheless, most of the machines still functioned inside, including the Bucking bronco, the rodeo simulator for which the town had got its name. To my left were more residential shacks as well as the town clinic. Pretty much the same as the one in Churn minus the security, vault, and population.

The establishment itself was run by Bone Marrow’s brother Bone Meal, and I doubted the serious lack of the things I'd listed sat well with him. Opposite the clinic was Cocktail's saloon, not quite the wildly neon-lit Willow's. It only bore the glow of firelight from the wood filled barrels and torches scattered about town. Nevertheless, they did have a generator here, just not an entire functioning hydroelectric dam. Still, I wasn't one for spending my whole evening outside, and now that we'd practically saved half of the place, it was a good enough place to get some rest.

That in mind, I began trotting towards the bar almost instinctively. That subconscious motivation was broken a moment later when I had to stop for my new companion. Cherry had tensed up once again, her ears fidgeting and eyes darting nervously to everypony that passed her by, none of which showed any interest in her. That made me feel both annoyed and relieved simultaneously. While frustratingly unsympathetic, at least they weren't socially torturing her. That said, I backpedal cautiously. She flinched as I reappeared beside her, but seemed to relaxed the second our gazes met.

"Do you want to go inside?" I asked, feeling both sickeningly condescending and unfairly demanding.

Damn it, I was treating her like a foal! I really didn't want to think about foals right now.

It took her a long moment to answer, the whole time of which I was secretly begging Celestia she'd say yes. If not then I'd have to stay out here, because by the goddesses I'd let myself become attached again.

"Are you... Are you gonna stay in there? I mean I don't need you to... If you don't want to... I just..." She faltered, trying to communicate what she was thinking, her timid voice trailing off again.

I turned my attention toward other things as my conscience sought to make me aware of the various emotional traps that I might fall into. It was also berating me for the patronizing tone and reminding me of my poor interpersonal skills. Which was why most of my diplomacy involved my guns or flirting. But the more time that I spent with Cherry and seeing the strength of her character, her will to live, I realized that I was starting to have feelings of affection for this mare.

"Yeah, don't worry, I'll stick with you," I assured her, unsure of whether I should ask her permission before boldly stating such a thing.

Another frail smile later, and her uncertainty assured me that was not necessary. Moments later, I took off my helmet and trotted into the bar. Cherry's tentative hoof steps sounded upon the desert dust close behind me, then on the wooden steps as I pushed through swinging saloon doors. The scent of cigarette smoke and booze struck me like a buck to the face almost instantly, and I felt a strange sympathy for the mare I'd left in that dumpster. Usually, I wouldn't have minded the good old smell of a saloon so much, yet being out in the relatively fresh air all day had made my senses more receptive than usual.

The foul scent manifested itself as a thick smog, the likes of which hung over the dimly lit room heavily. It was stirred like some viscous soup by two slowly rotating ceiling fans. In front of me was a large square room, with shabby wooden walls, several crooked windows, and faded pre-war portraits, as well as another door on the far side. It was also filled with rows of wooden tables. Covering most of them were glasses, cigars, spilled booze and drunk ponies. The occasional game of poker or blackjack broke the trend, as did several old vending machines.

I found myself having to double take at the sheer amount of ponies in here. Those that weren't drunk, broke or passed out, that was. I didn't recall this shabby little settlement ever having such a population, assuming this was the half that hadn't been stolen or the portion added by the protection package. I shrugged it off however. It wasn't my place to worry about this town too much. I should be more concerned about the strangely expansive slaver operations going on out in the desert considering that was where we'd be heading tomorrow. My knowledge of the region coalesced as I tried to figure it out, maybe all the scum had joined up to fight the rangers to the northeast, yet that wouldn't explain why they were this far in the opposite direction.

Besides, I doubted the lot of them could stand against those tin cans out in the opened for too long. I tried to formulate a theory revolving about the ghoul reports too, but that didn’t make sense either. That was just the wasteland being the wasteland, then again, wasn't every one of my problems just that? One conclusion I did come to, was one that thinking about made my head hurt, so instead, I set my mind to finding the only pony in here I cared about.

I found him sat at the bar, only a bit further along the left wall beside a set of upward leading stairs. It was not too dissimilar from Willow's back in Churn, only this bar had the luxury of being made from wood without rotting from the moist air. Another painfully tempting similarity was the wall behind the counter, the likes of which was lined with a rainbow of booze, wine, beer, scotch as well as the odd Apple Whisky or Sparkle Cola. Behind them was a mirror, giving any yearning customer the illusion that there was far more available than met the eye. At least this place didn't have an artificial charisma machine serving drinks though. No, it had an organic one inserted, as the owner here had the tendency to run her own establishment, unlike Willow. Cocktail, was her name I recalled, the sign outside serving my memory.

"Hope everypony out there in the South San Palomino is having a nice evening, your listing to your humble little rapid radio. So close to perfect, it hurts." The slightly tinny voice of Rapid fought the sound of the rabble from a radio sat on the far end of the bar.

Once again her reprised intro stung a little. Not to mention the strange longing to be back home the sound of her voice summoned in me. Well, I say home, what I was sure my cryptic feelings really mean was being free of the complications storming a raider nest commonly enrolled.

"Once again I am deeply displeased to have to talk about the growing threat of raiders in the southwest, it seems that not only are more of the poor excuses for ponies flowing out of the mines over in Crimson Springs, and jumping on that dog pile of a war with the Rangers. But more have taken to calling the old stable down at the south border their lair. Once again, I'd like to remind every good pony of my little request from last night's news, and warn every other pony to stay away. Moving on up from the dark depressing facts of our post-apocalyptic glory hole, however, we have some music. This is Sapphire Shores with 'The Sun Can't Hide Forever.'"

Her energetic voice cut out with a sharp pop, replaced the gloriously toned vocals of a mare. I felt my hopes drop a little as I realized I'd heard the same song about a thousand times. Then the idea of more raiders setting up shop south of here only soured my feelings that bit more. Before me, Star was already waving caps in his hooves, a half bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter in front of him. His fearsome helmet was perched upon his back mounted ammunition boxes, the weight of which was probably preventing him from sitting on one of the flimsy wooden bar stools.

I spared the gray buck only a brief glance before looking back to the doorway. Cherry stood there like a pink statuette, frozen between the swinging wooden panels. Though she was tensed up, she'd managed to stop shivering, I didn't see that as a good thing however. Her ears still danced nervously, twitching in all directions other than forward, her eyes feared to gaze upon her fellow bar patrons. Instead, the lime green spheres were focused directly on me.

Pondering exactly what I actually intended to do with this situation, I turned back to Star to see he was talking to somepony, either I'd been so blind as to not notice her at first glance or she'd only just engaged in conversation. She was a tan-coated mare with dull red mane and tail. Her cutie mark was that of a lassoed cocktail glass spilling purple liquid. She was wearing a pocketed white apron, the original, pre-war name of this establishment faded and scribbled out on its front, replaced with her name, Cocktail. I approached, waiting a moment for Cherry to shift after me before taking the seat beside where Star was standing.

"Well, howdy sugar, might I say that you are lookin' mighty fine this evening." The voice of Cocktail greeted gleefully.

I didn't smile, she wasn't my friend, she just wanted to butter me up like every sales pony. Unlike them, I wasn't gonna overlook who I knew she once was.

Slaver.

I nearly coughed the word from my muzzle.

That had been a long time ago, she'd been betrayed by her group and almost killed, before finding her way here on a whim. It was frustratingly unfair that a pony so undeserving had managed to make a living so profitable for herself, especially when half the ponies about her were dragged into the wrong end of the same organization she'd once been a part of. My scowl deepened to dangerous levels, but I resisted the urge to let the grudge simmer for too long. Usually, I'd have taken her up on her offer and blown every last cap on booze and sex. All were, sure enough, a way to forget who the pony giving me such pleasures once was, yet I wasn't in the mood for any of that.

"So honey, what's it gonna be?" Cocktail asked expectantly, forcing a smile I could crack with a hammer.

"Just a room," I said dryly, trying to evaporate her attitude.

I could almost see her face twitch, she opened her muzzle to say something, but then stopped herself, throat dry as the desert.

Well, at least I'd been somewhat successful. I told myself raising an eyebrow. Now, was she gonna except my caps or what?

I floated the amount for a room out of my saddlebags almost subconsciously. The bar mare suddenly seemed to latch onto a new idea like a lifeline, pulling herself back into a raft sailing in the direction of more income, no matter how depleted.

"No worries, sugar, your partner here's already booked you both a fine room," she explained happily.

Had Star booked us a room? One room? But we were at work? I questioned, raising an eye to the buck sat beside me.

Then I remembered what I'd told him earlier, about the foal, and the raider. I sighed to myself silently, this was his way of trying to make me feel better, wasn't it? To engage in rough, sweaty sex? I'll admit I was tempted to take him up on the offer. It was fun, yes, but he was my friend and he knew I liked it, especially with him. He also knew why I did so much of it, he knew why I'd fuck every buck and mare I deemed worthy, all in hopes of achieving something I knew was impossible. Despite that, he didn't know what I'd seen today, he'd not seen what I'd seen before. I mean sure I'd told him, but he didn't see it play out right in front of him.

Urg... Damn it, wasteland! Why couldn't it have just been a bold stallion or a lone mare that suicide bombed me, then I'd only have the doubts about whether I'd done my job right and I could eventually get over that?

But no, the wasteland couldn't be that kind, it was all against me. That mockingly regal entity and its fucked up rules.

I continued to stare up at Star, he merely looked forward somewhat stoically, as if waiting for permission to see through the treatment he'd planned. I swallowed tentatively.

Damn it, I knew his heart was in the right place, yet fucking him or any buck for that matter over and over, wasn't gonna change who I was or what was wrong with me.

"No, I'll take my own room thanks," I told Cocktail simply.

The mare's plastic expression almost shattered, I guessed it wasn't every day she got a merc on the road not interested in anything other than a single room, but to hell with her sales. There were enough drunk ponies in here to fill a stable. Star didn't move, he just continued to stare forward, neither disagreeing or challenging my decision. That idea made me feel better than I ever could in bed with him. I didn't know if what I'd done to him upon our first meeting had made him that way, but I'd like to think knowing me had. For all my killing, sex, and cap hunting, I knew I wasn't a bad pony. I'd been able to hold on to that belief at least. Yet the only one who I'd allowed to see that core of modest goodness in me was him, and if that had changed him in any way, then I was proud of it.

"Yes, of course, sugar," Cocktail groaned reluctantly, hiding her sour tone as she took the caps from my magical grip with a hoof sweep, and went to the old pre-war cash register further down the bar.

"Thanks, I'll make it up to you when we get back home, promise," I whispered to Star appreciatively.

His eyes remained facing forward yet his muzzle was parted by a cunning smile.

Oh' he's thinking about that payment alright.

"You do what you want to when you're ready, I'm not a pony to get in your way that's for sure," he told me simply.

I turned my eyes back to the rows of alcohol on the mirrored shelves before me with an equally wide smile.

Yeah, he was my buck. My buck through and through.

"Here, honey, room's first door on the right," Cocktail mumbled around an aged metal key.

I stood up, taking the key in my magic and turned swiftly.

"Well I'll be a Brahmin’s mother, ya' gone an' found my waitress!"

Cocktail's sour mood seemed to abruptly lighten as her attention tore away from me. Then I noticed that as I'd moved I'd exposed Cherry to her hungry eyes. The pink mare was still standing nervously behind me.

Had she been waiting there, just standing? Damn it, now I felt even worse!

I should have offered her a seat at least.

"Why, when ya' when out there I thought ya'd never come back, Cherry Pin isn't it?" Cocktail asked excessively.

I glanced back, stepping aside so the pair could see eye to eye.

Cocktail beamed the words 'free labor at the expense of another's traumatic experience', and the phrase 'once a slaver...' flashed through my mind.

"Yeah, that's... me... And I was coming back, honest," Cherry's words were fleeting, she was fighting to see a pony she once knew and not some raider, although in this case there hardly seemed to be a difference.

My eyes narrowed slightly at that revelation.

"Yeah, I'll bet those raider bucks were just itching to get ya' back here," Cocktail countered, carelessly dismissing the fact with a wave of a hoof.

"Well... No, but..." Cherry muttered softly, her head bowing.

She didn't want to have to admit it was her fault, or what had happened to her. Cocktail's head cocked to one side inquisitively, and for a moment I thought I saw a hint of sympathy.

"Well, it's certainly good to see ya' back an' able to work, sugar," She stated, with transparent cheer.

Wait? My thoughts halted, Work? She'd been through all that, and you were ready to just put her back to work like nothing had happened?

My ears fell flat against my helmet, I really hoped waitress, as Skipper had said, meant what it was supposed to, and wasn't something else.

"Urm… Yes, ma’am, I'll work, just..." Her voice cracked painfully and trailed off.

I glanced at her shivering, she didn't look afraid nor did I sense she wanted to disobey. She wanted to be the hero who at least got off her butt and tried to save those ponies. In my eyes she was more than that, she was like a gleaming star among all of the other dreary fucks who'd done nothing to help. Worse still, they treated her this way. I turned sharply to Cocktail.

"I think I'll take this one." I pointed at Cherry giving her a subtle wink. "For some fun," I added erotically as possible.

Cocktail's eyes widened at the possibility of extra caps. I didn't want to look at the pink unicorn's eyes lest they be filled with horror at the idea. Nevertheless, I slowly floated a great deal more caps over to the bar mare, more than she could have gained from my drinking that was for sure.

"Thank you kindly, please do be careful with her she's been through a lot."

Oh, you have no idea you bitch!

I had to fight to keep that thought a thought, lest it become a bold declaration at gunpoint.

So waitress did mean something else if the caps stacked up did it? I surmised.

I couldn't stomach the greedy mare's poisonous gaze any longer, she'd robbed my caps and won, now she could just fuck off. That said, I swiftly turned and looked down to Cherry, secretly begging she'd not be staring at me with horrified eyes, so much so I put my helmet back on so not to reveal my hurt expression. Strangely, they were still drooped, boring into the dull green of the old carpet.

"Well, come on," I said sharply, trying to be as believable as possible.

She didn't look up, and I felt a shiver of shame run through me. Nevertheless, I trotted towards the stairs and she followed slowly.

"Well, go on, you'd be dead by now if you were still a slave you know," Cocktail declared coldly, banging a hoof on the wooden counter.

I could feel red creeping into my vision as Cherry jumped and scurried to only inches behind me. Cocktail smiled, it was free caps after all. She was still a slaver, just a less obvious one, the only difference was her slaves wore a collar that made them naught but hopeless as a pose to blowing them up. The cold look in her eyes made me want to scream, I would have jumped onto her right there and then if it weren't for Star.

"I'll have another," he announced, pushing his half full bottle over the wooden counter.

Cocktail's eyes lit up again as she turned to the stallion. Then her expression morphed into one of confusion.

"Urm, it's still half full, sugar," she announced dryly, looking down at the glass.

"Oh, really? My mistake," Star added with a slight laugh.

The hastily manufactured chuckle of Cocktail followed, but I'd ensured we were long gone upstairs by the time she could look back in our direction.

"Here this is for you," I said invitingly, tapping the single mattress with a hoof.

The old, metal frame it was laid upon gave a rickety creek as did the aged wood beneath it.

Oh' well more work for that bitch below if it broke. I sniggered harshly to myself.

Cherry was stood just a few hoof steps from me, looking heartbrokenly betrayed. The moment I'd revealed the bed she'd tensed again, her eyes begging that the image they saw was some kind of cruel illusion, and yet never wanting to admit it. For a long moment, it was hard to look at her while I stood in the position a Raider may have taken only hours ago.

"But I thought... I... I can't, I," the pink mare stuttered.

A wave of crushing shame fell over me with the weight of a train car, this was not what I wanted, and yet whatever I did it felt like I was transmitting the wrong message. Instead, I smiled, albeit it rather pointlessly given the gloom.

"Don't worry the bed's for you, nopony else," I told her, stepping back from the warn mattress.

"But, but, you... Cocktail, she..." she stuttered again, losing her pitiful plea to confusion as she began to shiver once more.

"I didn't mean what I... Implied down there. I just tricked her into giving you the room," I explained kindly, praying to the goddesses that she could see what I'd intended over the very suggestive implications.

I could see her glance about. The room was a small, wooden rectangle with only one window the likes of which sat on the bed, looking over the wall towards the flooded, brown, wasteland beyond. Other than that, there was a bedside table supporting a shattered lamp and a stained rug. Cherry took a slow breath, hesitantly trotting over to me and the bedside.

"You tricked her?" she asked with the faintest grin.

I nodded, equally amused by the fact.

"Yep, and now you get her services for free," I explained with a slight chuckle.

I took another step back allowing her to slip cautiously between me and the old bedside.

"This, this is mine? I can sleep on it?" she asked in disbelief, laying a hoof on the mattress as if trying to prove to herself it was really there.

I gave another nod, another rather pointless expression considering she was far too focused on the miracle that was a free bed.

"Yep, it's all yours," I added slowly moving to the door.

There was a metallic creek as she climbed into the bed and settled down. Only once she was content did my thoughts turn to myself. I could go back down, I owed Star at least something. Yet if I did, Cocktail may wonder what became of her waitress.

Wouldn't want to be wasting such a good talent after all.

I sighed, but it was a warm sigh, at least. I spent almost every moment with Star, he could wait. And the less I saw of Cocktail, the better.

Does Cherry want you to stay? My mind asked.

I perked up, turning to the corner of the room just left of the door. In the darkness, I heard Cherry shift. Now it was my turn to plea, would she let me stay? Did I deserve it? The questions swam on the currents of my mind until I finally voiced them, and to my surprise, she nodded ever so slightly. I couldn't tell whether it was shame or pride that made it so, but it made me feel better regardless. My horn flared, wrapping my helmet in a blue glow that temporality illuminated the room. With a tug, the modified attire levitated up allowing the relatively cold air to flood onto my damp mane as it fell back to its natural place, partly covering my eyes.

I took a deep, refreshing breath, the air just felt cooler without the helmet or visor, speaking of which I made sure to lock the glass display up before placing the helmet down beside me. Then with another glow, the rest of my dragon scaled barding began to peel off my sweaty coat and I took several swift sips from my canteen.

Wow, now I knew why I rarely removed my barding outside of Churn, I really stank.

Just like the average wastelander without access to a water talisman. My mind reminded me.

I ignored the mild guilt as I peeled off the rest of my modified gear and laid it neatly beside my helmet and weapons. I looked up, taking another breath as the relatively cool night air relieved my sticky, sweat simmered body. A moment of grooming my damp mane from my eyes later, and I glimpsed Cherry's eyes watching me from the bed. Her forehooves were curled up to her chest pulling the ragged purple blanket up over her front, her eyes were as close to normal as I'd seen them all day. She didn't look afraid or threatened, instead, she looked safe, more so in fact. Like she couldn't believe who I was.

A warrior of the goddesses come to save her? A miracle pony from beyond the wasteland? Or perhaps simply a good pony?

I dearly hoped for the latter most idea to be true as I made my way over to the bed and lay down on the rough rug just beside it. She was still looking at me, like the fact that I was naked made me more a pony and less something terrifying.

Don't even think about it that way, brain! I snapped at some of my bolder thoughts.

Ultimately, it was like we were equal. I'd saved her life, I assumed that was why she seemed to at least be less afraid of me. I smiled slightly, ignoring the fact that the rug on which I lay of reeked of piss, booze and Celestia knew what else. Yet it was no better than any mattress out here.

"Urm, Dragonfire?" Cherry muffled tentatively, instantly stealing my attention.

She looked right at me hopelessly, and it seemed she was regretting the fact she'd started to ask something. Worry beat in my next heart twitch.

Why was she worried about me? What had I done? Was it the room, my barding? Because I was naked?

No! I stopped my panic with one rational thought, recalling her words and tone closely.

"Sorry, go ahead, ask what you want," I intoned kindly. "Trust me, these ears have endured the worst," I added, trying to wave of her worry with a literal hoof wave.

She seemed to relax at that, dismissing the idea that failure to complete a sentence would result in something awful. Then she opened her muzzle once more, fighting back her shivers as she cautiously continued.

"Urm, Dragonfire?"

I continued to look at her, my eyes inviting her questions as much as possible.

"Yeah?"

She paused shivering violently before finally adding…

"Thank you."

She managed a frail smile as she uttered the words. She'd said it again, and I felt my heart flutter slightly.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just doing my job," I replied simply.

Was this really my job? No, not technically, but it was what a pony should do, my one rule that distinguished me from all other mercs, the one exception being Star. A moment later there was a metallic creek as the mare rolled over onto her back, eyes boring into the dull wood of the ceiling. She gave a sniff, then razed a hoof to the shimmering spheres as tears began to trickle down her cheek. I froze, eyes diverted. Was there anything I should do? What should I say? I took a breath and swallowed, don't lose this one Dragonfire, save her.

"You know if you want to talk about anything..." I said, slowly raising a hoof.

Her weak weeping stopped, and she fell silent.

Damn it, Dragon, you...

"Really? You want to hear about a useless filly like me?" Cherry whimpered self-loathly as if there was nothing to tell that anypony would find interesting.

Shut up doubts. Shut up, brain!

"Yeah, of course," I responded with interest, my mind now asking me whether psychology was in a mercenary's job description.

If somepony paid enough for it, it probably would be. I countered wittingly, but that wasn't the point.

Cherry gave another weak sniffle.

"I just don't want them to be mad," She confessed softly.

My ears rose tall in confusion. Mad? Who was gonna be mad at her? The image of Cocktail came to mind, as well as Skipper, then her dead friends. My recent frustration saw that my thoughts failed to dwell on the latter however. Regardless, she didn't give me a chance to respond before continuing.

"I'm such a stupid filly, I got myself captured. It's my fault. I mean, who did I think I was going to fool out there, the damn raiders? I'm good for nothing other than what Cocktail tells me," she exclaimed, her words escorted from her muzzle by a set of sobs.

My confusion steadied slightly.

"No pony gets captured by raiders on purpose. Besides, all I see is a brave mare who tried. No pony can fault you for that," I explained as truly as I could.

Yes, it was a reckless idea, but truth be told, the world was as it was because of recklessness. I was reckless. But at least she'd been reckless trying to do what was right.

"No, I shouldn't, it was stupid. I should have just listened to Cocktail, like she said this is all I'm good at… I."

She sat up sharply waving over the bed with her forehooves, her words severed by a slight squeak as if realizing she was actually talking openly to somepony. Then the weeping began to creep back into her eyes.

Damn it Dragonfire, think of something, pull her back!

"I don't think it's your fault. And I'm definitely not angry at you," I told her abruptly.

No, no, no that never works! Not now it's too soon, damn it, brain! Remember how many ponies said that to you?

I lacked the tenacity to tell my mind to shut up as Cherry stopped and glanced at me. Instead, I forged a reassuring smile.

"I don't think such a kind pony would let anypony down and you didn't. If you hadn't been there I'd have been a slave by now," I added, trying to hide the fact I actually found her quite cute, and the fact that I'd have probably found some pyromaniac solution to Mister Red before the latter mentioned fate could have befallen me.

Even so, Cherry's trembling muzzle began to curl with the frail foundations of a proud grin. I don't know whether it was just me or if any other pony could have done it, but when she looked at me it seemed to just be enough to hold back the blame and anxiety.

"Just don't worry about it, you're safe now, and I'll stay right here until you believe that, and well..." I paused thoughtfully.

Was this really the best thing to say? Regardless, it was the best I had.

"If you know what will make you happy then just say, I'll try my best," I had to block out a snickering voice in my head that constantly reminded how many ways I may come to regret that promise.

The sight of Cherry's somewhat relieved expression remaining constant warded off my doubts slightly, and for a moment I thought I'd calmed her just enough. Then she frowned, dark thoughts dragging back her relief. I blinked, not wanting to say anything until I knew what was biting at her smile.

"I can't be happy, not anymore."

Her voice broke with a sharp crack as she looked over herself beneath the covers. Her cold confession made my heart ache, that was something I knew far too well and it was a situation far too numerous in the wasteland.

"Well, if it's any consolation, happiness is one of the hardest things to find out here. But is there anything you could think of?" I asked, before trying to think of an example.

My attempts just bought up past memories I'd fought hard to bury, and I swiftly filled in the holes before my mind could get a chance to reanimate them. Cherry just went back to staring down at herself emptily. I swallowed nervously. I had the social situation on a knife edge, throw a minefield in there and some trigger happy raiders and you'd just about get the delicateness of the emotional situation I was handling, and I certainly wasn't the most skilled when it came to these instances.

I bowed my head as the long moment of no response dragged any hope I had of making her feel at least somewhat better into a dark room, before putting a bullet through its skull.

Well done, Dragonfire, my mind hissed mockingly.

"I…" Cherry suddenly whimpered glancing back up at the far wall, salvaging my hopes as she did so.

I looked back up at her, ears perked.

"I... My family made me happy, my sisters, mother. My father, baby nephew especially, but… They're all gone now," she stammered, closing her eyes tightly.

It wasn't hard to see she was holding back tears about loved ones that she would not see again, not until she gave up her spirit too. My ears fell flat again, any hope I'd had of giving her something was weak, but now it was no less than impossible, yet in one cold thought of my own I salvaged an idea.

"Hey... I know how that feels, I don't remember my father, but I remember losing my mother and my..." Now it was my turn to stammer as genuinely as she did.

The chilling thought of that loss hit me like a wall of ice. Now those thoughts were present in my mind the sick mental fucker made me relive them several times before I finally managed to seal them away again. I remembered losing my little brother all too well, back up in New Appaloosa, one trek up near the Everfree and well... There was a reason I hated dragons. I thought of the draconic beast I'd slain, lying rotten on the lakeside. The thought was caught between a burning sense of justice and a cold flood of sorrow. I took a deep, staggered breath.

Not now, Dragonfire, not now. I mentally told myself, before glancing up at Cherry.

I knew how that felt, but she needed help far more than me. She'd been beaten, raped, a lot by the look of her flank. Disease, internal damage, I knew everything that could physically come from such abuse. The moment I realized that fact, another far deeper monster reared its ugly head from within the dark caverns of my troubled mind. Its presents swiftly turned my attempt at kind reassurance emotionally fatal to more than just her.

Fuck you, brain! I called, but all the psychological fucker gave me in response was something along the lines of out of the frying-pan and into the fire.

I forced my eyes closed once more, taking a breath as Cherry watched me with worry. It was hard to tell if I was the source of her concern or something else in her head.

No! Dragonfire, this wasn't about you! Not anymore! This was about her, save her! My mind continued, beating at my self-induced torture.

My eyes opened and turned to her as she continued to offer that concerned look.

"You okay?" she asked timidly.

Wow, you must look like such a great savior.

I groaned, my mind coming back from panic attack territory.

"Yeah, I–I'm fine. It’s just the mention of family… I lost my family a long time ago too, and well..."

I couldn't make a new one. My thoughts finished for me.

No, brain. You do not get to finish that! You do not get to take me back there!

Still, my unspoken portion of the sentence mustn't have been too elusive, and Cherry's eyes widened at the implication.

Damn it Dragonfire! Just focus on the reality.

She'd been beaten, nothing a good healing potion couldn't fix physically, and while her mentality was a concern, it was currently marred by the many complications of being raped and abused, as was her body. Internal injury, disease… Conception?

Dangerous line there, brain, real dangerous line…

"Look, I know it's not my place to ask," I stated cautiously, looking away and digging at the tattered carpet with a hoof. "But would you feel better if I paid for a medical? I mean if you want to... I..."

I wanted something to calm me down not her, and that blunt violation of privacy was a good enough distraction. I knew how far it was from the ideal option, I was practically forcing her to admit to everypony, including herself, what had happened. But if I didn't then she'd just worry about the consequences and maybe even succumb to them. As if counter attacking my previous assault, my mind took great pleasure in forcing me to admit that some mares didn't even have to try in order to achieve what I was simply unable to. I beat that thought to a ragged pulp before burying it deep in the darkest reaches of my memory with the rest of its foul ilk.

On the outside, all I could do was sigh, I wasn't gonna have many caps left after this, until the fifty thousand anyway. But for Cherry, for this mare I was making the sacrifice for, the caps didn’t matter as much to me. Why? I couldn't fathom. No, I didn't want to admit I could fathom it.

"You... You would?" she stuttered, still clearly fighting the fear of the worst possible truth, and yet seeing many unwanted troubles I could relieve her of.

I just gave a weak nod.

"Of course."

The words left my muzzle like a fluent song riding over the fallen corpses of all the foul thoughts that processed them. Of course, I was a merc, but there was a difference between being a merc and evil. Of course, there were someponies out there who were only in it for the caps, sometimes even me. But the moment I saw her, what I saw in the moments that followed our meeting. Something had been broken in my mind. A foal blown to bits by the cruelty of its own mother. A mare horrified and alone. The two in combination had mutated my instincts into something alien and new, or they'd resurrected something old and rusty, but no less strong. I'd do anything to make her happy. Just like I would a foal whose life I'd tried save, a foal whose life I'd never create. Cherry's wide-eyed expression sank down into her bed as she laid back on the ragged pillow.

"You should get some sleep," I found myself saying, avoiding the emotional conflict this conversation had left me.

She gave what looked like a nod, yet from her position, it was hard to tell for sure. I looked round to the bedside table just before me.

So close to perfect? Haha, what a joke.

Tomorrow, I'd get her a full medical, that would probably see a lot of my caps go down the drain, but she'd be happier. Clean and disease free. Healed and… I mentally paused. No little miracles, not for her. My eyes drew closed as I settled my head. No miracles for this pony.

Footnote: Level Up

New Perk Added: Psychologist - Wasteland hardened killer or not, you really know how the harshness of the world affects the mind. Gain +3 charisma when talking to any allied character and gain extra speech options with all companions.

Updated artwork for this chapter kindly provided by: Rainbowsurvivor.