[He finds he doesn't mind the idea of telling her. She's seen a lot, so he doesn't lie. Dan's voice stays soft, almost wry, and he shakes his head.]

'bout a year before I got here, a guy off the New Vegas Strip decided he wanted somethin' I was deliverin' there. Him, an' a few guys he hired, knocked me out near a place called Goodsprings. Dragged me up t' the cemetery an' dug me a grave. [He smiles, but there's no humour in it.]

Then 'e shot me in the head. Right 'ere. [His fingers brush the purple knot of scar tissue flashed across his temple.] An' left me there.