[ WP ] Write the third episode of non-existant series . Make us curious about what happened before episode 3 , and what happens after .

Nathaniel is a simple person. He ’ s lived on the NCR farms in the main territory of NCR his entire life. His dad ’ s dead, but his mom is managing the farm twice as well as her husband ever was, despite what she says. He doesn ’ t like how much Hydra and med-x his mom uses to keep her joints from aching in the winters, but he doesn ’ t speak up. He just makes sure that when she asks him to dose her, he gives her half a whole dose rather than a full dose to keep her from a major addiction. He doesn ’ t care for his sister as a person, but he will fight to the death against anyone that dare hurt her, but his size keeps him from being all that intimidating to those who she tends to attract. He ended up in Nevada on a trip to New Reno with a few of his friends. He wasn ’ t very lucky the first few days, but made back five times what he brought on a single bet and caught the attention of the owners of the Shark Club casino. 
 After two years of work, he pays off his “ debt ” and returns to California to a mother who has lost herself to addiction and a sister who is working herself to the bone to try and keep the farm their family owns. He is not received warmly, and is forced to find a hotel after a vicious fight with his sister that left him with a broken nose and black eye. Five days later he returns to a bitter welcome and a still upset sister who has left him with few kind words and fewer kindnesses, he settles into his place as the family supply runner and pseudo-patriarch. He keeps himself busy, there are days he puts he barrel in his mouth and pulls the trigger of the empty pistol but the empty gun only serves to tell him that he still hasn ’ t brought his family the success and comfort they once had. Bullets are expensive and he can ’ t even afford to kill himself yet, but still he pushes on, and on, and on. Against the other farmers who have shunned him and his family, the merchants who won ’ t take the small still maturing produce, and his sister Gardenia ’ s venom which has only waned in the past few weeks after the crops have finally begun to seed and bear fruit after months of waiting. Addiction and starvation have left his mother a husk of her former self, but even she is starting to come back without the money or free reign she had while her sister struggled during those years that Nathaniel was in Reno. 
 
 It was years after his return, the farm was successful enough to need extra hands and bodies to harvest and seed the fields, they grew strong, healthy plants and Gardenia had left to expand into the Mojave with the other farmers, though she had elected to build independently of the share croppers who had been contracted to feed the NCR military force in the Mojave. It was a life Nathaniel was proud of, a life he had built and a life he had loved. He hadn ’ t been able to save his mother, she was too far gone in her dependence on Med-X and Buffout, the same drugs that had helped her build her farm before her son had abandoned them took her from Nathaniel and Gardenia. Her death drove a second wedge between the brother and sister, but time and distance left the two amicable, but the guilt and the hate ran deep in Gardenia, deep enough that it had pushed her to leave the Junktown and travel to the Mojave. Despite what it had done to his family before, Nathaniel ’ s wanderlust had kept its hooks sunk firmly into his mind, each month he would spend more time in the wasteland, first just a few days, but soon he was gone for weeks at a time, his most recent month long absence had prompted a visit from Gardenia, who met him at their family home three days before he returned. Surprise was just the first thing that filled Nathaniel when he saw his sister, shame came soon after. 
 
 “ Where the fuck have you been Nathaniel? ” 
 
 “ Walking. Hunting. I wasn ’ t doing anything that would get me in trouble. ” 
 
 “ You left for a month! What the fuck was I supposed to think?! Do you not remember what happened the last time you were gone for more than a few weeks?! Do you only think of yourself you selfish prick?! Right when things are getting good?! ” 
 
 “ Gardenia, I ’ m not leaving you and the farm again. I don ’ t even need to be here, they handle everything just fine on their own. ” 
 
 “ They can run on their own, huh? Okay. Okay. ” 
 
 The words carried little weight, they clung to the air between the brother and sister, any love shared between them had gone with Nathaniel when he left to New Reno. He left the uncomfortable silence, walking towards the house that sat in the center of the rows of crops, stopping to greet the farmhands as he passed them. His bags, empty of everything but a few trinkets, and spare bullet casings that had managed to fall inside, were hung nest to his hat on the hook outside front door of his home. He stepped inside and followed the worn carpet to his room and pulled the dusty clothes from his back. The wasteland left it all a dingy shade of brown, a vivid contrast to the healthy green, purple, and red of the crops outside, all of it shining bright against the dusty earth color that clung to the coat, shirt, and pants that now sat idly on Nathaniel ’ s bed, ruining the pale blue of his blanket. It was called a duvet. He didn ’ t know why. He didn ’ t know why they called the little seat downstairs an ottoman, he didn ’ t know why the coffee pot was called a French press, his attachment to these things died with the men he escorted to their deaths in New Reno. The Southern California Desert, that ’ s what they called what those outside the comfort of the NCR called the wasteland, those that didn ’ t know better called it the NCR Desert. Nathaniel, in clean clothes, left the diversions of his home behind and went to the fields to work his land until night came and he went down for a well deserved sleep. 
 
 Dreams of sand, of rock and rubble, of a cold moon and an unforgiving sun were interrupted; they faded away slowly as he woke. Metal caught the light of the moon from his window, two barrels pointed at him ripped him into reality and away from the dream. He raised his hands in surrender and sat up slowly, his eyes following every twitch of the barrels as the person behind the gun stood and came into the light. 
 
 “ Gardenia, what are you doing? ” 
 
 “ Fixing the last problem on Rodrick farm. Get up and pack your shit. Now. ” Nathaniel did as he was told. 
 
 “ Get dressed for one of your trips. ” Nathaniel did as he was told. 
 
 “ Downstairs, go, now. ” Nathaniel did as he was told. A full moon lifted the uncertainty from Nathaniel, he was going to die. “ Keep walking, ” he took slow careful strides, prodded in the back every few steps until he had reached the edge of the farm. 
 
 “ You don ’ t have to do this, Gardenia. ” 
 
 “ Shut the fuck up. Walk. ” He didn ’ t speak again. A shorter stride only brought another prod from the gun, and any attempt to turn, the same. Thoughts of his mother, of the little girl who cried for him, of the cold nights spent with the family after working the fields came in pieces, the memories interrupted by the nudge of cold metal. Ahead of him the sun rose over the peaks of the valley, blinding him as the first piece of the yellow disc breached the sky to rest atop the mountains for the shortest second. Shoulders aching under the weight of his raised hands, he dropped them and expected the shell to come. “ Why are you doing this? ” 
 
 “ You know why. Start walking, you ever come back to either of my farms and I ’ ll feed you to the flytraps. ” 
 
 “ Please, Gardenia, it ’ s not like before, I ’ m not going to vanish. ” 
 
 “ Fuck you Nathan, get the fuck off my farm. Now. ” Tears pooled at the corners of his eyes, but didn ’ t fall. Nathaniel turned and faced his sister, her face stern, cold. Acceptance was bitter, and left the taste of blood and salt on his tongue as he faced the cold winter air under the rising sun. The wasteland stretched to the horizon and beyond. It crawled over the mountains and stretched ever further, past anywhere that Nathaniel had ever seen. A shot rang out and a cloud of dust blew into his face, masking the taste of iron and salt in his mouth. 
 
 “ I ’ m sorry. ” 
 
 “ I told you to leave. Now. ” A cold stare came from his sister, eyes once so full of love for her older brother now bore hatred and mirth for the stranger who had become her charge. The rising sun shone bright in the tears that dripped down his cheeks, and so he walked. There was no destination, there was no place to explore, there was only him, lost among familiar roads. Without home, or family, like so many others in the wasteland, he was no better than the scavengers or raiders. He lost days in the wasteland, the raiders took their chances with him at first but after they had lost most of their people they abandoned the chase, leaving the wounded man to his own devices, unaware that they had found their mark more than once in their attempts. Bullets nestled in his stomach and arms bled him slowly, festering inside him with every step and he took. Stubborn determination and drugs pushed him forward, wandering without thought until he found a sign that brought a faint shimmer of hope, the green metal glinted, half buried and faded after two hundred years. The letters nearly peeled off or shorn away by the wind and time. New Mexico at last. 

