And yes I know I said Heavy wouldn't care about side content or companions despite drawing him in the Enclave remnants armour, an armour set you need to not only meet and befriend a companion for but also do a lengthy side quest but shush
Heavy from Team Fortress 2 would bring an unyielding focus to the role of Courier Six in *Fallout: New Vegas*. As a mercenary driven by money and loyalty to contracts, Heavy wouldn’t be swayed by the Mojave Wasteland’s countless side distractions. From the moment he wakes up in Doc Mitchell’s house, patched up after Benny’s backstab, Heavy’s eyes would be set firmly on revenge and the platinum chip. With his lumbering strength and unwavering resolve, Heavy would bulldoze through challenges, likely wielding power-fist-class weapons like Pushy or the Super Sledge, which pair perfectly with his persona. He’d steamroll through Goodsprings, uninterested in Ringo or Powder Gangers’ quarrels unless caps were on the line. His motto would echo: "No time for tiny baby problems. I have job to do."

As Heavy progresses toward Vegas, his practicality and appetite for combat would dictate his alliances. The NCR’s bureaucracy and Legion’s cruelty would hold no interest for him—his focus would be on Mr. House, whose promises of wealth align neatly with Heavy's mercenary mindset. With a perk loadout like Strong Back, Toughness, and Bloody Mess, Heavy would thrive in the unforgiving wastes, taking down Deathclaws at Quarry Junction with his beloved minigun, Vera. His singular focus would mean ignoring optional detours like Vault 22 or Black Mountain, unless compelled by an explicit reward. For Heavy, quests like "Beyond the Beef" or "Come Fly With Me" would be mere background noise against the sound of bottle caps jingling in his pouch. "I work for caps," he’d growl, swatting away would-be allies.

The climactic showdown at Hoover Dam would see Heavy at his most determined. He’d likely use his high barter skill and combat prowess to secure a deal with House or even overthrow him to keep all the power for himself. As Frank Sinatra’s "Blue Moon" croons on Radio New Vegas, Heavy would stride victoriously through the dam, power armor-clad and wielding a riot shotgun. His rejection of side quests would render him a force of focused destruction, cutting through the chaos of the Mojave like a "Big Iron" on his hip. For Heavy, there is no greater satisfaction than finishing the job and cashing the check, leaving a trail of carnage—and caps—in his wake.

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