Layla's face was hard as she stood at the Sorrows' Burial mound. The dead were carefully stacked on the scaffolding now that they had been wrapped and blessed. There were three separate areas prepared: one was for the White Legs, as the Sorrows mourned for all that died, even their enemies. Another was prepared for the 'honored dead,' the Sorrows and Dead Horses who'd fallen during the battle. Jed, Stella, Chris and Jenny's bodies had been recovered and placed among the tribals.

The last group had been at Layla's insistence: the pre-war or long dead remains that littered the canyon. There were quite a few, and it had taken nearly an entire day for the Dead Horses to find them all. Layla had asked Boone to help her recover one personally, the skeleton she'd been sitting next to when he found her crying.

She'd come clean with him on Randall Clark's story. Well, she'd let him read the entries on her Pip-Boy while she tried to keep herself from crying. The sniper was glad to help the Survivalist be honored by the descendents of those he'd sheltered, even if they didn't know who he was; Layla had insisted on not telling them. They'd wrapped him in the desert armor he'd favored, and Layla had given his gun to the tribe as well, telling them to treasure it as a relic from Zion's past.

Now, White Bird was finishing the burial ceremony, which almost all the inhabitants of Zion were attending. Boone noted Graham among the Dead Horses. By the time they'd returned to the Narrows after defeating the White Legs at their camp, the battle there was over as well. Without the arrival of Salt-Upon-Wounds, Daniel and his Sorrows had repelled the attack easily.

The missionary had still been upset about the Sorrows' involvement in the battle. He'd seemed relieved once he'd been informed of Graham's mercy toward the White Leg leader, probably something he hadn't expected from The Burned Man. Since the battle's end, there was still some awkwardness between the two, but the Daniel's anger seemed to have ebbed.

White Bird completed the ceremony, and the group gathered began to disperse. Some stayed by the dead, still mourning. As Boone moved away, he found Waking Cloud looking sadly at the burial site.

"I will never be able to bury my husband," she said quietly. Boone frowned at that.

"I'm sorry," he said to the tribal. "I… My wife was killed a year and half ago." He let out a breath. "I never got to bury her either…"

The tribal gave him a naked, stricken look. "It will never stop hurting, will it?"

"No." He couldn't lie to her. "It'll get easier to bear, but it won't ever stop."

Waking Cloud nodded, looking somber as she absorbed his words. A moment later, she looked up at him.

"Sorrows are taught to mourn, but to live even in our loss. I will let him live within me as I live on."

Boone watched as she walked away, thinking about her words.

*.*.*

Layla's squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry out from the pain being inflicted by the woman standing above her.

"Mother Fu-" She bit her lip. "Follows-Chalk! Why didn't you tell me this hurt so much?" she cried as the Dead Horse shaman continued applying her tattoo.

"No one usually complains this much…" the tribal answered.

"Shut up," the Courier grumbled at him. "You too," she directed at Cass, who was doing a terrible job of holding back her laughter.

"I'm sorry," the older woman said. "It's just nice to hear I'm not the only one who thinks you're a wuss."

"Well you're a duraAAGH!" the Courier cried.

"You'd better not squirm so much, you're going to ruin it," the caravaneer admonished. The tattooing process was long and very sacred, and apparently quite painful. The end result was becoming apparent on the bottom of the girl's right shoulder blade. It looked like a stylized gecko.

"There," the shaman said, "You done."

"Thank you," the Courier said automatically, but didn't move.

"You can move," the shaman added.

"I know," Layla said, remaining still. A minute later, she took a deep breath and lifted herself up. For a moment Cass thought she was going to faint, but she shook the dazed look off her face and turned to the shaman.

"Thank you. This is an honor." The woman smiled.

"You welcome. You friend to Dead Horses."

The Courier wore a goofy smile on her face as they left the cave.

*.*.*

"Ahhhhhhh," Layla sighed as she lowered herself neck-deep into the Virgin River. "That's better."

"How do you go through that more than once?" the girl asked Follows-Chalk, who sat by the river tribal shrugged.

"I will get quite a few soon."

The Courier smiled. "You've earned them."

"You will be leaving soon," the tribal said, and he saw Layla frown.

"Yeah… Gotta go back home sooner or later."

"I think I may leave the tribe," he said. "I want to see civilization for myself…" The girl's frown deepened.

"It's not as great as you think."

"You're going back to it."

"Well yeah, but I've got business back there. Responsibilities."

He looked thoughtful as Layla made her way back to the shore.

"It's your choice," she said to him, "but don't make it lightly. I left home a long time ago, and I found a lot of great things and made a lot of friends… but I also got shot in the head and buried alive. And I nearly get kidnapped or killed every other day."

Neither spoke for a while, and eventually they headed back to camp.

*.*.*

Layla struggled to fit her new yao guai gauntlet into her bag as she sat in the Dead Horse workshop cave. Boone's pack was next to hers, already brimming with gear. In all honesty, there hadn't been many new things to pack. She'd gained more knowledge than items on this trip.

But she'd also gained a stun gun. Grinning at the weapon, she carefully packed it away. She wasn't really sure how the compliance regulator worked, something she'd have to bring up with Arcade. She was sure it'd come in handy. If not, they could always use it to blow up mutfruits.

As she packed, she heard steps approaching and turned. Joshua Graham was standing at the entrance to the cavern.

"Hello," Layla said cheerfully. "Need something?"

"No." Graham said. He seemed calmer now than when they'd first met, more at peace. "No, you've done a great deal already." He moved to her side. "You seem to have a habit of finding those in their darkest moments and guiding them back to the light."

Layla felt a blush start creeping up her neck. "Most of the time people just need a nudge in the right direction. I just nudge."

He pulled his pistol from its holster, then held it out to her. "I want you to have this." His voice took an amused tone. "You need all the firepower you can get."

Layla raised an eyebrow, but took the offered weapon.

"Are you sure?" she asked, looking over the engraved, snakeskin-handled pistol.

"Your hands are meant for creating and fixing, not killing. I've heard the Legion put a bounty on you." He sounded tired for a moment. "I can't go with you, so let my weapon protect you in my place."

"Thank you," she said, smiling. "It's beautiful. I'll take good care of it."

"Good. When you leave, remember what you've learned here, and know you will always have friends in Zion."

*.*.*

"I know we didn't see eye-to-eye on things, but you were doing what you thought was right," Daniel said to Layla. They were at the Sorrows' camp, near the same fire pit where she'd first met the missionary. She knew he'd accepted what had happened, but nothing she could say would make him happy about it, something she'd have to live with.

"I hope the Sorrows will take the mercy you showed to heart," Daniel continued.

"They will," Layla said. "They're good people."

The New Canaanite nodded, still looking dour. A moment later his face cleared.

"I have a message I'd like you to deliver to Happy Trails when you go back. We want to reestablish the trade lines again. By the time they're able to return, we'll be ready for them." He handed her a letter. "Give this to their Mojave headquarters."

Layla nodded, a half smile forming on her face.

"Good. Jed would have been happy to know this all worked out."

"Despite all the tragedies that befall man, life goes on," said Daniel.

Remembering Randall Clark's similar words, she smiled.

*.*.*

Waking Cloud was on her way back to the Narrows when she came upon Follows-Chalk standing by the Virgin River. He was gazing off in the distance, deep in thought.

"Does something trouble you?" she asked. The scout finally noticed her presence and turned to her.

"I'm thinking about leaving Zion."

Waking Cloud looked at him in silence for a moment. She had grown fond of the young Dead Horse as they'd traveled with the outsider group. She'd seen wanderlust in younger men before. Most quelled it, but some followed it, never to be seen again.

"Aren't you soon to become a full scout?"

Follows-Chalk nodded, then frowned as he seemed to lose himself in thought again.

"Don't you ever want to see what's beyond the canyon?" he finally said to her.

"No," she answered. "Zion is a beautiful place, one that several outsiders have told me is an oasis in the wastes. And I have a family here. They need me."

The Dead Horse didn't answer for a moment, then sighed.

"I guess I'll stay." He looked her way. "I don't want to give up paradise."

*.*.*

The road seemed to stretch on forever. Layla looked back at the canyons of Zion as it was starting to merge with the horizon. A small crowd had seen them off. Layla had been proud of herself for not dissolving into tears as she'd said her goodbyes and walked away.

Looking at the road ahead of her, she sighed. She'd promised herself she'd go back one day, but it wouldn't be for a long time, and the thought weighed heavy on her. Eventually, she decided to focus on something positive.

"When we get back, I'm going to take a hot bath, then sleep in a real bed."

"You're such a pansy," Cass teased.

"Just because I can appreciate a soft bed and being clean doesn't mean I can't live without it," the Courier answered back.

"Well, I'm going to get shit-faced. I ran out of hooch three weeks ago."

"And you didn't shrivel up and die?" Layla said, smirking at the glower she got from the older woman. "What are you looking forward to when we get back, Boone?"

The sniper looked thoughtful for a moment before he answered.

"Sleeping without my boots on."

Cass laughed, "Oh, that's adorable." She ignored the glare she received in response.

"Thank you for staying…" Layla said to the others. "I know you didn't want to help Graham…"

"It worked out for the best…" Cass said.

Layla nodded. "Are we okay?"

"Yeah," Cass said easily. Boone nodded, his face serious. Layla smirked in his direction.

"Do you always have to stick a gun in the faces of my new friends?" Layla asked.

"Oh, now you're friends with him?" Cass said tartly.

"Well, he never threatened to turn me in to the Legion. Anyway, he told me to write him, so we're gonna be super best-buddy pen pals."

"Oh you're disgusting," the older woman spat. "You've just got to be friends with everyone, don't you?"

"I'm not friends with everyone. There's a whole army of guys in skirts who aren't fond of me."

"The Garrets don't like you either," Boone added.

"Nuh-uh, just Francine. James likes me because I'm associated with the people who got him that sexbot." Cass laughed.

"The one Arcade fucked?"

Layla laughed, it was definitely going to be good to go home.

I hope you all enjoyed Zion as much as I did (I miss Graham already). Thank you for reading, reviewing, favoriting and alerting.

We will continue the series next Wednesday with "Crossing That Bridge." See you then!