Layla was sitting on her couch. Someone had put a glass of water in her hand. The others were milling around worriedly. Once they'd been given the all-clear, Cass, Lily and Emily had returned. Arcade had pulled them aside in the suite to let them know Layla had killed House, destroying Victor in the process.

Now the Courier was staring at the wall in her room, barely acknowledging anyone.

"Hey… you want to talk about it?" Veronica tried again, sitting next to her on the couch. Layla shook her head.

"Nothing to talk about."

"I think there's plenty to talk about," Cass said from her spot at the doorway.

"We need to figure out what to do now," Layla amended, still sounding dazed.

"That's not what I meant," the older woman said sourly. Starting to really worry now, she went to find Arcade.

The doctor was in the kitchen with Raul and Boone. All three men looked up at her when she entered, faces grim.

"Arcade, I think you'd better take a look at her." The blonde leapt to his feet.

"What is it?"

"She's barely responding to anyone. Shouldn't she be freaking out? Or anything?" The doctor frowned at that, pushing the glasses up his nose.

"Let me go look at her." He started for the bedroom, Cass in tow. Arcade sat on the coffee table across from the girl.

"Hey, Layla?" he said when she didn't look at him right away.

"What?" she answered.

"It's okay to be upset about this, but you need to talk to us."

The Courier looked at him for a moment, but looked back at the spot on the wall she'd been staring at.

"I'm okay, it's over. I'm just a little upset."

"Well, you're staring at the wall and talking like a zombie," the doctor said lightly. "That's not exactly healthy."

She shrugged, eyes still on the wall.

"You're worrying us," he tried again, sounding more serious.

"Sorry," she said simply. Sighing, Arcade rose to his feet and motioned for Cass to follow him as he left the room. Veronica stayed by Layla's side.

"Well?" Cass asked, not sure she wanted to hear what the doctor had to say.

"It's an acute stress reaction. Having to kill House and finding out what happened to Victor must have pushed her over the edge."

"Over the edge? Is she going to stay like this?" Raul asked, standing in the kitchen doorway with Boone.

"No no," the doctor answered quickly. "No. It's a very temporary condition. It might just take her a couple hours, two or three days at the very most." He sighed heavily. "If it does persist longer than that, she may have developed Post-traumatic stress disorder, but we don't need to get ahead of ourselves."

Cass sighed, looking back into the master bed room. Layla had a gentle heart; she felt like she'd murdered House, no matter what had happened. Victor's 'death' would be unforgivable in her eyes as well. The caravaneer just hoped this wouldn't harden the girl too much. Cass had seen plenty of people turn mean after this kind of thing.

Looking around the group, she wondered if the others were coming to the same conclusion. Their faces were all grim. Boone suddenly broke off from them and moved to the bedroom. Curious, Cass followed.

"Layla," he said firmly.

"Hm?" she answered hazily.

"You had to do it." She looked at him with a frown.

"Did I? I murdered two people. One was my friend."

"You didn't know about Victor," the sniper said. "And House had to die. You put him out of his misery." The Courier went back to looking at the wall.

"Doesn't make what I did right."

"He wanted you to start killing innocent people. Would that have been better?" The girl didn't answer for a moment.

"He didn't-"

Boone didn't let her finish.

"Once the securitron army was ready, he could wipe out anyone he wanted to. And he would have. If anyone tried to stop him he'd just kill them too."

"But he-"

"If you hadn't stopped him, he just would have gotten someone else."

Layla didn't answer, but Cass noticed she was gripping her glass of water so hard her hand was turning white. She was about to speak up to stop the sniper, but he continued before she could.

"You didn't murder him. He made you kill him."

Layla got her feet and hurled the cup of water at the wall with a roar. The glass shattered loudly, and then there was only the sound of the Courier breathing heavily.

"God damn it!" she cried, then looked at the sniper as her mask of rage crumbled into a naked, devastated look.

"I didn't want to kill anyone."

"I know," was all he said, and she sunk back onto the couch.

"C-could you guys give me a few minutes alone?" Cass felt her heart twist at the sorrow in the girl's voice, but at the same time she was heartened. Layla couldn't stand letting people see her cry. The Courier wasn't over what had happened, but she was functioning again.

Veronica looked like she didn't want to leave, but got up at the insistent looks she got from the others. They all filed out quickly. Cass found Arcade leveling a raised eyebrow at Boone as the sniper closed the door behind them.

"Well, I wouldn't have prescribed that kind of slash and burn psychology. But I guess that's one way to break someone out of a funk."

"Is she going to be okay?" Veronica asked, sounding upset.

"She'll bounce back once she's cried it out," Cass said, sounding a little more confident than she felt.

*.*.*

Ambassador Crocker looked up from a sheet of paper he was reading when Layla walked into his office. He didn't seem surprised to see her.

"The securitrons are handing these out." He held the paper out to Layla. It was a printed copy of House's obituary. Handing it back, she sat on the chair near his desk, legs suddenly feeling like jelly. There was a creak in the floor, and she saw Boone had moved closer to her. Once she'd come out of her room, giving up on her unsuccessful attempts to hide her puffy red eyes, she'd wanted to do something productive. Eventually she'd decided to make the ambassador aware of the situation. She hadn't understood why Boone had wanted to go with her until now: moral support.

"Is it true? Is he dead?" Crocker asked, sounding slightly cautious.

"Yeah," Layla answered quickly. "Yeah, he's dead." She wanted to explain why, but decided against it. The rational part of her brain was starting to take over again. She looked up at the man sitting across from her.

"We're giving the Strip to the NCR," she said. The ambassador looked shocked for a moment, then a smile split his face.

"But it's going to be on my terms," she continued once that had sunk in. "I don't want the NCR to just throw everyone out and set up shop."

Crocker nodded. "That's fair."

"We'll begin negotiations after the dam's settled." Sitting back in her chair, Layla sighed. "If we don't focus on the Legion, there'll be no Strip to give."

The ambassador nodded, then smiled. "I'm sure we can come to a decision that will benefit everyone. For now, we'll worry about the coming battle."

Layla felt the tension in her shoulders relax. Crocker had sounded far more natural with his last comments. She'd come to trust the man, and if he was indeed the one to oversee the takeover, it would be even-handed. A mildly amused look came over his features as he spoke again.

"So… I guess that makes you the acting ruler of New Vegas."

Layla stared at the man, mouth slightly agape. She hadn't been expecting that. Sitting back in her chair, she frowned, then laughed.

"That ought to make my bounty go up."

"If anyone ever catches you, you'll bankrupt the Legion," Crocker said with a grin.

Layla laughed again, but the mirth left her a moment later. She'd been so eager to do something, anything that wasn't staying in the Lucky 38. Politics hadn't been the smartest choice, she realized now. She'd done enough thinking for one day.

"I'll be on my way then," she said, standing.

"Stop by and play some Caravan when you've got a minute," the ambassador said easily as she left.

*.*.*

The Aces theater was blissfully quiet tonight, just a few people in the booths. Layla figured people were worried about the change in management. The thought didn't improve her already bad mood. The loose ends for the day were tied up; Emily had agreed to take Yes Man to the Followers' Outpost for now. All involved agreed that keeping the robot away from House's system was for the best. Layla would have to think of a permanent solution for the robot later. Emily would be back with a few other Followers to start looking into House's systems.

For now, the securitrons didn't seem to have any problem answering to her. Veronica had found the command prompt that turned over control of the robots. They'd tested it by sending three of them to bring messages to the heads of the three families, similar to the message she'd given Crocker. The main difference was that they'd meet before the battle. Layla wanted everyone to be in agreement before they presented their terms to the NCR.

Sighing, she continued staring into her vodka. It was still untouched. She'd come in just as Bruce Isaac was finishing his set. Now the theater was quiet.

Layla had been beyond depressed. She'd needed time alone, away from the 38. Boone hadn't wanted to let her go on her own, but she'd promised she would only go to the Tops and not get into trouble. He'd eventually relented, much to her surprise, grateful though she was for it.

Now she was just sad and numb.

The Lonesome Drifter stepped onto the stage and started playing a sad song. Layla was grateful for it; she wouldn't have been able to take Billy Knight's 'comedy' act tonight.

She thought about trying to get the Tops' High Roller suite for the night, not wanting to go back to the Lucky 38. She couldn't bear the thought of seeing so many securitrons; she had found herself searching the face screens of each one she saw for a cowboy.

Her throat felt thick, and if she'd had any tears left, she would have broken down. As she struggled to swallow, she listened to the song the cowboy on stage was singing.

"Oh, beat the drums slowly and play the fife lowly

Play the dead march as you bear me along

Take me to the valley and lay the sod o'er me

I'm a young cowboy; I know I've done wrong"

She almost found more tears, but they stalled. She was still grateful she'd caught his act.

"Hey."

Layla looked over as Swank appeared at her side. His normal winning smile was a careful neutral look. "Want some company?"

She wanted to tell him no, but she suddenly felt lonely. She motioned to the chair across from her and he sat.

"I take it things didn't go like you planned?" he asked casually.

"No," she said simply. He nodded before speaking again.

"When do you want to meet, baby?" She looked from her drink, guessing that meant the Chairmen were still backing her.

"Not for a while… I need time to think," Layla answered, biting her lip and hoping he'd drop the subject for now. She really didn't want to talk business. Swank nodded and didn't speak further, turning his head toward the stage.

"Have you ever killed anyone?" Layla asked suddenly. Surprisingly, the Chairman laughed.

"'Course I have, sweetheart. So have you, long before today."

She sighed. "Have you ever murdered a helpless old man in cold blood?"

Swank looked at her, eyes trying read her. He leaned back on his chair. "Baby, you don't have to be waving a gun to be dangerous. I'd call you more trouble without a weapon."

That made her think, and she sighed.

"Did I tell you Benny showed up here the other day?" Swank said casually. That got her attention.

"What did he want?"

"Not sure. We didn't let him in. Seemed like he was testing the waters. He left without a fuss, though." Swank gave her an amused look. "He's not exactly welcome here."

Layla frowned. "How is what he did any worse than what I've just done? He was going to kill House too. I'm no better…"

The Chairman gave her a smile. "If you killed House, it was for a good reason. The fact that Benny's alive is proof you don't kill without a pretty heavy cause." He tipped her face up gently. "He tried to kill the sweetest kid I've ever met just cause you were in the way. I've never heard of you killing the innocent."

Victor came to her mind immediately, and she bit her lip.

"Hey, did you hear about the guy whose entire left side was cut off?" Swank said. Layla gave him a perplexed look, and he continued.

"He's all right now."

The Courier stared at him for a moment before she broke into loud laughter. She gave him a light shove, still giggling.

"That was terrible. Thanks, I needed that."

"Stick around and get your bearings," Swank said, standing from his seat. "Drinks are on me."

"Thanks, Swank."

He smiled at her. "Any time, doll."

So, couple things to announce:

*Next Wednesday we will begin 'Golden Years.'

*We are officially halfway through the series. I know what you're thinking: 'Halfway? Are you going to actually finish the whole thing?' Well, I never thought I'd get through Companions, so we'll see.

*If you haven't heard it before, the song mentioned in today's chapter is 'Streets of New Reno,' written and preformed by J.E. Sawyer, who is New Vegas' lead designer and project director. It's very good, so go listen to it.

*And as always, thank you for reading. Thanks again for folks who took the time to review, alert and favorite. Have a wonderful week!