Work Text:
Arcade would be lying if he said he hadn't expected Six to come by the Fort sooner than she did.
Despite the internal crisis he’d had to overcome when faced with the possibility of being responsible for a child, some part of him had assumed that the girl would stay with him while she figured things out; getting used to being on her own again couldn’t be easy, and if knowing she was safe gave him some peace of mind, well, that was his business, wasn’t it?
Six had seemed to think differently. As soon as they’d gotten back to Freeside, she’d refused every offer he’d made about finding her some accommodations at the Fort, made up some vague excuses, and then disappeared. To say he’d been confused would be an understatement –not to mention a lie by omission, since he’d been more worried than anything else– but no one needed to know that. Arcade had not spent the past couple of days wondering if she was okay, just like he hadn’t been planning to get someone to cover his shifts in case she didn’t turn up soon.
That’s why, when Six visits him again at the Fort asking for help, he doesn’t think twice before agreeing to her request. After all, it couldn’t be worse than the last job, and it’d be nice to see what she was up to lately.
As Arcade stands in front of the console, programming disk held in one hand while the other types on the keyboard, he reasons that, well, at least he hadn’t been wrong. So far, the job has involved fewer lasers and injuries, which is, by all means, an improvement.
The abandoned fabric glooms over them, and the green hue radiating from the console screen bathes them in a light that makes Arcade feel as if he was on a mission to create an evil clone of himself, like the scientists from those Old World movies. If only that were the case.
Arcade inserts the disk into the port and presses a few more keys before coming to a pause. He turns to address Six with a pointed eyebrow.
“I’m… not sure if I want to know why you want to turn this robot into a sexbot.”
Six winces, cheeks growing red under his scrutiny. She kicks some invisible rock on the ground, avoiding his gaze. “Yeah, uh, about that… It’s a really long story.”
“Is that so? Well, we’ve got…” Arcade squints at the monitor. “At least 40 minutes of waiting ahead of us. So, by all means…”
“Okay,” Six says, sighing with a dramatic air that could only be achieved by a teenager. “It’s not that I want it for myself, obviously, but I’ve been staying at the Crimson Caravan lately, ‘cause I have some friends there, but I didn’t want to overstay my welcome either, so I went to the Atomic Wrangler–”
“Wait, wait,” he interrupts, holding one of his hands up. “I just want to clarify this: you needed a place to stay, so you decided to go to the Wrangler first instead of the Fort?”
Six scratches the back of her head. Instead of meeting his eyes, she tracks ED-E’s hovering around the dark room like she’s never seen a flying robot before that moment.
“Yeah…” she says after a while.
Arcade can’t keep his scoff to himself, but he does try to reign in the judgemental eyebrows, with little success. “Okay then. Please continue.”
“Um,” she clears her throat, “Okay, so at the Wrangler, James Garret says to me, uh, bring me a sexbot and I’ll pay you. A lot. And I thought, huh, that’s something I can totally do, so… here I am. Oh,” Six gasps, remembering another vital piece of information. “I’ve been doing a couple of favors for him because I want to convince him to rent me a really cheap room, something about, I don’t know– 5 caps a day? Is that too crazy? I bet he’s got a room he could spare.”
Arcade blinks, digesting what she’s just said, and then he turns back to the monitor, where the sexbot program seems to have become stuck on the same percentage it was minutes ago.
At least she’d taken his offered help. That’s something. He can’t deny, however, that it bothers him that he’s the last possible option when it comes to places to stay– Is it him? Or is it the Fort? Yes, it’s a crowded place on the best days, but isn’t the Crimson Caravan just as bad? Maybe he’d been more annoying to Six than he’d realized.
God, he’s doubting himself over the opinion of a teenager. He thought he’d left this behind once puberty ended.
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you so bent on staying in Freeside?” he asks before he can stop himself. “I think I recall you saying you’d been to Goodsprings and liked it quite a lot, didn’t you? Wouldn’t it be better to go back that way?”
Six hums, facing away from Arcade. She squares up her shoulders before saying, “Maybe, but I need to get into The Strip. The man that shot me is in there. At The Tops.”
Arcade wrenches his eyes away from the screen, ignoring how the program seems to have resumed the installation in favor of staring at Six with a gaping mouth. He clears his throat and pushes his glasses up his nose. “What?” He sputters. “You’re looking for him? That’s what this is about?” The girl turns her face even further away from him. “And what is the plan here, Six? I assume it’s to get revenge of some kind, but what are you going to do? Kill him?”
Six’s reaction tells him he’s hit the nail right on the head; the girl crosses her arms and glares daggers at him. Arcade can’t contain his disbelieving huff, and it only seems to make her more upset, her eyebrows knitting themselves together.
“So what if that’s my plan?” She asks, voice louder than the empty room calls for. “He tried to kill me first! He almost did!”
Arcade sighs, gripping the bridge of his nose between his fingers. That’s true, he supposes, but still– She’s a child! Six shouldn’t be thinking about getting revenge and killing her enemies, she should be… Resting somewhere, nursing her head injury.
He glances at the girl, only to find the same determined stare he’d gotten from her at HELIOS. The headache he’d been feeling coming on dissipates, and something like a calm sense of focus washes over him; he’s seen Six do things no other teenager her age would be able to do, and that’s not even counting the things she’s just told him about. In some ways, this situation is similar to the choice she’d made at the Tower: she has to decide for herself, and he can only attempt to help by offering his guidance, and only if he’s asked about it. She’s not under his tutelage in any way, after all; he should treat her like he would treat any friend in a situation as exceptional as hers. Arcade can oppose the thought of killing someone to get revenge, sure, an eye for an eye and the world goes blind and all that, but is it really fair to abandon her now that her only other friend has left her? For all that he’s seen, she might not even go through with it. Six is too soft to kill someone in cold blood. In case she does, however, she might need help to deal with what that might entail, and if he’s being honest… Arcade would feel better if he knew Six had someone to count on when things get messy.
He sighs again, the sound weary and resigned. “Okay,” he says. “I guess you’re right. If you say so.”
Six’s defensive posture grows tenser as she processes his words, and then she deflates, eyeing him with confusion.
“May I ask what’s keeping you in Freeside, then, if you already know what you’re doing?”
“Um… I’ve been saving up for this thing, the credit check?” She says, voice back to normal after most of the fight has fled her frame. “And I’ve only got–”
“The credit check?” Arcade interrupts, frowning. “Wouldn’t it be easier to get a passport at Mick and Ralph’s?”
Six blinks. “What?”
As Arcade opens his mouth to elaborate, the monitor in front of him beeps, the sound startling them into forgetting their conversation. The capsule containing the protectron hisses and its door slides open, revealing an old protectron model that begins moving, limbs clanking against the sides of its container. A cloud of dust rises from what Arcade thinks must be centuries-old technology, and ED-E abandons his frantic chase after the rats lurking around the fabric in favor of coming closer to witness the spectacle happening before them.
The protectron steps outside of its port, its clunky movements capturing their collective attention.
“Fully Integrated Security Technetronic Officer active and reporting for duty,” it announces with a patchy electronic voice.
A beat of silence ensues the declaration, only broken by Six as she comments, “I think F.I.S.T.O. would be less of a mouthful.”
“Yes, ma’am. F.I.S.T.O. reporting for duty.”
Arcade shoots an unimpressed look at Six, though judging by her giggling, he fails to hide his amusement. F.I.S.T.O. stands in front of them, gears whirring loudly, before it turns to face Arcade.
“Please assume the position.”
Arcade blinks. The robot takes a step towards him, and he yelps, jumping back to keep the distance between them. F.I.S.T.O. doesn’t stop there, however; soon, he finds himself being chased at an incredibly slow pace, backing away from the protectron and loudly voicing his affront in the hopes that it’ll get it to stop. Six watches the events unfold from a safe distance, cackling growing louder and louder with each passing second.
“Are you just going to stand there?” he says, arms flailing around wildly. “Six! Do something!”
“Oh, Christ,” she says, an expression that makes her look like an old lady in a teenager’s body. She rubs a hand up and down her face, then coughs a couple of times to stifle her laughter. “Okay,” Six says, eyes stopping on ED-E before saying, “Okay. I guess I could… F.I.S.T.O., activate command: follow.”
The protectron lets out a single beep before stopping its advances towards Arcade all at once. The relief hits him like a punch in the gut; even though it’s not the strangest proposition he’s ever gotten, it’s definitely up there, and that’s not a good thing in his books.
“If you ask me, that’s a missed opportunity there, ‘Cade,” Six says, a shit-eating grin blooming on her face.
Arcade whips around to face her with a finger wiggling in the air. “You–” He says, before stopping himself. Did she call him Cade? “Fuck. Shut up. Not a word of this to anyone, okay? Especially Julie.”
Six rolls her eyes. “Okay,” she groans.
He huffs in indignation and begins making his way out of the building, walking as fast as his legs can carry him, and Six yelps as she rushes to follow him, ordering the robots to come with as she runs.
Sooner rather than later, they’re all stepping out of the fabric. The fact that half of their group is made up of ancient technology seems to draw a lot of attention from the locals surrounding the place, but nobody approaches them to ask about it or to try to threaten them into giving up one of the robots, so things go well, all in all. As they make their way back to the Atomic Wrangler, Arcade tries to keep his head high so that he won’t make eye contact with the most curious of the onlookers, and steers his thoughts clear of Six’s apparent penchant for tinkering and what it could mean in regards to her memory, at least for now. He’d rather explore that with a psychiatry book in hand.
⋄⋄⋄
Having been a Freeside local for some time now, Arcade is rather confident on his assessment of The Strip, which is nothing more than a smoke show for naïve Wastelanders looking to have a good time. It loses most of its shine and wonder-like quality around the third time one visits, and to someone who’s had the disgrace of being forced to enter it almost every week for the past couple of years, well, suffice it to say he’s kind of sick of it.
He’s not oblivious, of course– He, too, had once fallen victim to The Strip’s blinding lights and catchy music flowing from every venue on its streets, but that had been very long ago, back when he’d first set foot here. By that time, he’d already known enough Marxist theory to bore the poor bartender unlucky enough to serve him half to death, and now he feels like a single look at his surroundings could inspire him to write an essay on the mind-numbing effects of consumerism and how extreme capitalism has driven the world to its death over and over again.
Arcade shares a similar sentiment to his companions, only to realize it falls upon deaf ears: both Six and Veronica are too busy being awed by everything The Strip has to offer to hear him, craning their necks around as they attempt to take everything in all at once– And no, he won’t count ED-E as a listener, on account of his principles. They look just about ready to burst from excitement, twin grins on their faces along with eyes as wide as plates.
And, listen, okay. He may have just torn The Strip to pieces in his mind, and yes, he most likely wouldn’t shy away from saying he hates the place, but that doesn’t mean it’s not endearing to see people’s first reaction to the luxury and splendor of it all. Arcade brings a hand to his face in an attempt to cover up his smile, but it ends up being unnecessary because the sight of a Securitron rolling over to them is enough to kill any joy he might’ve been feeling.
Before the machine reaches them, Arcade throws out one of his arms, stopping Six and Veronica in their tracks. He ignores their surprised yelps and steps between them and the robot as if the action could somehow keep him from killing all of them under five seconds if it wanted to, but well, it’s the thought that counts… Ah, shit.
“Is something wrong?” he asks as soon as the Securitron comes to a stop, back straightening into his entire height. “We were only–”
“Pardner!” the robot interjects cheerily.
Before Arcade can get himself together and ask what he means, Six sighs from behind him. He turns his head slightly, finding that not only does the girl look like she’d rather be held at gunpoint by the robot than have this conversation, but that she’s also stepping around his extended arm to come to face the machine. Arcade opens his mouth, realizes that the displayed face on the robot’s screen is wearing a cowboy hat, and then closes it. If one thing has become evident, is that he needs to learn more about this situation before he gets a chance to fuck something up.
“Victor,” Six says as a greeting, wary and exasperated. “Hi. What are you doing here?”
The display on the robot’s screen changes to a more rueful expression. “Aw, shucks, Six! And here I was so excited to see you! My ol’ pal!”
The girl musters up a curt smile. “Yeah, I know, sorry, I’m just… I’m kind of tired.” Veronica snorts from behind Arcade, earning a glare from Six. She quickly schools her face and turns to the robot again. “What’s up, Victor?”
The robot– Victor lets out a metallic hum before relaying the craziest piece of news Arcade’s heard in a while: Mister House, the man in the tower himself, wants to meet and talk to Six at the Lucky 38. To her credit, the girl would look almost unfazed by this information if it weren’t for her raised eyebrows, and it’s only when her eyes wander to the Tops Casino that she loses her cool façade. She crosses her arms and taps her foot on the ground, sparing a nervous look at her companions.
“Does it have to be now?” she asks, brows furrowing down.
The cowboy face shifts into a nervous wince. “Uh, there ain’t no rush, if I’m being honest, pal, except I think Mr. House would be very pleased with you if you hurried a little. It shouldn’t take very long, either, if that’s what’s eating at ya.”
Six sighs again. “Okay,” she says, nodding, “Lead the way, then.”
The robot rolls away without another word, trusting them to follow its wake. Six is the first one to move, and ED-E sticks close to her, ever the shadow at her back. Arcade shares a doubtful look with Veronica before she steels herself and loops her arm around his, and despite how he’d like to say he’s the one allowing her to tug him along, the truth is that Veronica is far stronger than he’d initially thought. The ragged hood rules out a military past almost completely, but she’s far too pretty to be a former raider –those kinds of drugs leave tracks on people’s faces, and he’s got enough training to spot them from miles away.
He performs one last-ditch examination of Veronica’s attire, then shakes his head, opting to focus on the present. There are more pressing matters at hand, like the fact that they’re climbing the stairs to the Lucky 38, and are probably the first people to have been invited to do so in a century.
The feeling of all the heads turning to watch them is beyond surreal. Instead of shrinking into himself, however, Arcade puffs out his chest and snaps his eyes back to Six, the true protagonist of this situation. She’s too busy staring at the enormous building in front of her to be aware of the attention turned her way, but he supposes it’s better that way; she’s not shy, per se, but the situation could quickly overwhelm her.
Arcade follows her gaze up to the neon sign standing above them, and for a moment he allows his mind to wander: how many years has it been since a person has stepped a single foot inside this place? Is Mr. House surrounded only by robots like Victor?
He should’ve accepted that chip when Emily asked him to take it.
“Ah, there’s one last thing,” Victor says, clicking his fingers in a way that looks too similar to a person. “This is going to be a little awkward, but… Oh well. Kiddo, I know these fellas here are your friends and all, but the thing is… They can’t go in with you.”
Six puts her hands on her hips and comes to stand in front of the robot. “What? Are you joking?”
Arcade frowns, and the tightening hold on his arm tells him Veronica is just as upset by this information as he is.
“This is not my joking face, I’m afraid,” Victor says, the cowboy cartoon frowning slightly. “I’m sorry, pardner, but I don’t make the rules.”
She scoffs, unimpressed. “Well, if they can’t come with me, then I’m not–”
The robot holds its hands in a placating gesture, cutting her off. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, okay?” Victor says. “I told Mr. House you might get like this, so he authorized me to tell you this: it’s about the platinum chip.”
This halts every word coming out of Six’s mouth, the girl freezing in place. A moment goes by during which nobody speaks, and it’s then that a shiver runs down Arcade’s spine.
She won’t agree to that, right?
As if sensing his doubt, Six turns to face them with a determined set to her mouth. “If you don’t want to wait for me, I get it.”
“Are you feeling okay?” Arcade asks, unable to restrain the incredulity from his voice. “You’re not telling us you’re going into this casino-shaped fortress all by yourself, are you?”
A wince twists Six’s features for a moment, before being replaced by a look of consternation. “I’m going in there,” she says, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “I think I really need to hear him out.”
“What?” Veronica says, eyebrows going up to her hairline.
“Okay, okay, look,” Arcade pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Think about this. You’ll be completely alone up there because these doors look like they belong to a nuclear shelter rather than a casino, and not to mention the robots–”
“Arcade,” she interjects, shaking her head as she walks back towards the entrance of the building. “I’m going in. If you guys don’t want to wait until I’m done, I’ll look for you when I get out, alright? I’ll tell you how it went and stuff. See you both soon!”
As soon as she’s done talking, the doors open at her back, and Six steps through them without a second thought. Victor, who must’ve pressed some button while they were busy bickering, waves at them one last time before his screen flickers to static and another robot displaying a cartoon cowboy on its screen meets Six inside the building. Arcade reacts on instinct, stepping forward with an outstretched hand ready to grab onto the girl’s arms, a wait half-formed in his mouth, but it’s too late: the doors close with a metallic bang right in front of his face. He stares at the reflective surface for a moment, taking in his distressed face, along with Veronica’s wince at his side, and then slumps. He walks over to the stairs they’d just climbed and sits on the first step, resting his head between his hands. ED-E, ever so helpful, comes to hover at his side, as close to the floor as it can get. Arcade resolutely ignores its pitiful, low-pitched beeping.
Veronica sits down at his other side, her arm touching his, which he finds soothing rather than uncomfortable.
“I know this is going to sound like I was the one that was shot in the head, but she’s a lot tougher than she looks,” she says, completely unprompted. Arcade raises a single questioning eyebrow in her direction, and she laughs, but the mirth doesn’t reach her eyes. Somehow, that little detail is more comforting than any words she could say. “I met her almost a month ago, and at the time we were only talking about trivial stuff, but she looked like hell. I asked, and she said it was because she’d fought some legionaries, dealt with a hostage situation, and gotten her fortune read, all of this in three days. And those aren’t even the craziest stories she’s told me since then.” She squeezes Arcade’s shoulder and smiles. “It’s not that she’s tough per se, it’s more that she’s… resourceful. She can get out of most situations. And I know she may look small and everything, but think about it like this: she’s going to make these shitty decisions with or without us waiting for her outside the creepy casino, so I think we’d all prefer she has someone that stays instead of being alone, right?”
Arcade’s gaze returns to the mill of people walking on the streets that lay at the bottom of the stairs. Yes, of course Veronica is right, especially about the last point, but it’s one thing to acknowledge it and another thing entirely to put that knowledge into action.
Six has really grown on him. A couple of weeks ago, he’d been curious about the teenage girl that had somehow cheated death and still maintained a nonchalant demeanor about life, and now, while many things remained the same, some didn’t: he knew better than to think she was unaffected by the experience, for example. Although, to be honest, even then it had shown, with how it'd taken her a minute to remember her life post near-death experience. Arcade knows that Six struggles, and it’s that very knowledge that makes him want to keep her from harm’s way as much as possible, which is an insane thought to have, considering they live in a post-nuclear world, and yet…
Judging by Veronica’s strained smile as she leans back on her elbows, he’s not the only one worried about Six’s wellbeing. It’s oddly reassuring. He watches as she sprawls herself all over the steps, noting with some amusement how much it differs from his own posture, legs bent close to his chest and elbows in his knees; while he’s used to trying to compensate for his height by making himself smaller, Veronica seems to do the exact opposite. It instills a sense of kinship within him that he can’t make sense of, and won’t try to, frankly, because he’s feeling too frayed at the moment. It’s not the time. He needs a moment to process things, to avoid focusing on the straight set to Veronica’s shoulders and her eyes that seem to be everywhere at once, as if open places like The Strip are overwhelming to her. He doesn’t want to make sense of those details, because he’d be forced to point out that those are all characteristics that line up with growing up in the closed environment of a Vault, where she could’ve learned how to make use of the power fist she carries everywhere and be taught to lay low dressing in rags like her brothers and sisters do, inevitably tying her to all of them as a result.
Yeah. Arcade sighs and gives her a small smile, which does a good job of brightening her demeanor. It’s enough to convince him to cut her some slack. Who is he to judge, anyway?
“Do you happen to know how to play Caravan?” he asks.
“Yeah, I do, a little,” she says. “Why?”
“Excellent!” Arcade claps his hands and then turns to ED-E. “I think she keeps her cards inside the robot. I propose we use them to pass some time.”
⋄⋄⋄
The doors to the Lucky 38 open with a hiss. Six rushes out of the building, most of her face obscured by the giant cowboy hat she wears around, and she almost walks past Arcade and Veronica in her haste. It’s only when the woman calls after her that she stops and turns around. She throws a glare to where the Securitron from before bids her goodbye next to the casino doors and then stalks over to where they sit at the top of the stairs.
“Hey, guys,” she says, her usual cheer nowhere to be found. A frown has taken place between her eyebrows. “I’m going to The Tops now. Benny’s supposed to be there.”
“Who?” asks Veronica, mirroring Arcade’s thoughts.
Six doesn’t explain; she marches down the stairs without another word, making a beeline for The Tops as soon as she reaches the street. ED-E is the first to follow her, leaving Arcade and Veronica scrambling to pick up their cards in order to keep up with them. Veronica grabs a handful of Arcade’s sleeve and tugs him along, keeping her eyes trained on the girl’s back, lest she be lost to the crowd because of her height.
Much to Six’s chagrin, getting inside the casino doesn’t turn out to be as quick as she’d hoped. As soon as they enter the reception, they’re stopped by one of the men at the front desk, who asks them to give up all their weapons. Veronica complains but takes off her power fist, and he and Six give up their energy weapons with some reticence. Arcade would’ve expected her to put up a fight before being separated from her gun, but the determined look on the girl’s face is all the answer he needs to that particular question; Six is planning something, and she’s not feeling inclined to share at the moment.
After they’re cleared to go inside, the girl makes a beeline for the most populated part of the lobby, following an invisible trail only she must be privy to. Arcade and Veronica hurry behind her, exchanging twin confused looks before she comes to an abrupt stop a few feet away from a group of men dressed in black suits. It’d be easy to dismiss them as casino guards if it weren’t for the fact that in the middle of them stand a man in the most eccentric suit Arcade’s seen in a while, exuding the kind of confident smugness that comes from knowing one is safe against all possible threats.
Six hesitates, but only for a second. The man in the checkered suit lets out a loud laugh, and she starts moving again, pushing people out of her way with her pointy elbows and eliciting more than a few curses from the guests. The protests attract the man’s attention, his eyes lazily scanning the room for a second before they land on Six’s tiny figure marching his way. It takes him a second to recognize her face, but the change after he does is immediate; the man grows pale and tense, faint smile on his lips snuffed out like a light.
Something in Arcade’s mind clicks. This is Benny, the man Six’s been talking about since he met her. The bastard that tried to kill a child over a casino chip.
Before he gets the opportunity to do something very noble and stupid, Veronica squeezes his arm and leans into his space to whisper, “Is this the guy?” At his nod, she adds, “Do you think I could go get my power fist back? I kind of want to smash his teeth into his mouth.”
God, what he’d give to do that very same thing. “I have a feeling it wouldn’t exactly work out, with all the surveillance.”
Veronica hums and lets go of his arm. As they approach the small crowd surrounding Benny and Six, they catch the sound of their raised voices arguing over everyone else.
“We can talk about this, can’t we, doll?” Benny says, shooting a nervous smile her way. “Just calm down a little, let’s not ruin the night for everyone, and then–”
“Don’t call me that! And don’t tell me to calm down either,” Six snaps, frown etched onto her face. “You owe me, Benny. I’m the one holding all the cards right now.”
The man scoffs, spine straightening as he crosses his arms in front of his chest. “Yeah? How come, sweet cheeks? Seems to me like we’re in my casino now, ain’t we?”
Six mirrors his closed-off posture. “That may be,” she concedes, taking a couple of steps in his direction. “But how do you think the guy at the front desk would react if I told him you tried to kill me? I have the scars to prove it.” Benny narrows his eyes, but before he can say anything, Six adds, “Or I could just scream my lungs out right here, make it so everyone knows you shot a little girl on the head. I don’t know if you’d be able to stay in your casino after that.”
The effect the threat has on him is immediate. The anger that had been burgeoning on Benny’s face goes down a notch or two, and he takes a moment to rake his narrowed eyes through Six’s face, then Arcade’s, then Veronica’s. His mouth straightens into a single, tense line, and then stretches into an insincere smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Tell ya what, doll: you and your pals go up to the presidential suite, enjoy a treat or two, on me, obviously, and then we get to talking as soon as I’m done with the casino stuff down here,” he raises his eyebrows. “What d’you think?”
Six breaches the small distance that had been keeping them apart with a few quick strides, her fists clenched tight at her sides, and Veronica and Arcade follow as if she’d been pulling them along an invisible chord.
“Do you think I’m just that dumb and gullible?” she asks, jabbing her finger into Benny’s chest. The man’s face twists in irritation, and Veronica manages to pull her back by her elbow a few inches before things can escalate out of control. “Seriously? Don’t you think that almost dying could make me a little bit smarter so I wouldn’t fall for the first trick you tried to pull on me?”
“Alright, alright,” Benny says, tight smile still in place as he raises his hands in surrender. “I get it, pal, you’re not a dumb little kid. We can go up right now, then, put a stop to all this fuss we’re making here. How about that?”
The girl huffs, shrugging off Veronica’s hand like it’s offended her personally, and then gives Benny a curt nod. With a look at his bodyguards, the man sighs and begins walking toward the elevators.
Arcade and Veronica lag behind a couple of steps. He keeps a wary eye on Six, who seems determined to remain at Benny’s side at all times, lest he slip out of her sight and get away again. ED-E hovers near her, somehow making his metallic, round body go almost unnoticed by the swarm of guards that surround their group at their every step.
“What a slimy fucking bastard,” Veronica mutters into Arcade’s personal space, startling him. She doesn’t seem to notice, too busy staring daggers at the back of Benny’s checkered suit jacket. “I wanna… punch him,” she adds, frowning and mimicking the action.
Arcade stares at her palms, now red with the abuse, and winces. He wouldn’t like to be on the receiving end of Veronica’s ire, for sure.
⋄⋄⋄
To say that the meeting with Benny doesn’t go according to plan would be an understatement.
The casino hallway resonates with their steps, a cacophony of mismatched sounds that seems to drown out everything else, and yet, to Arcade, the loudest noise out of all of them is Six’s half-hearted run. Every time she leans her weight on her right leg it wobbles, a second away from buckling under her, but despite his best efforts at convincing her to let him take a look at it, Six had insisted on chasing after Benny right away. She’s got a point: this man has a penchant for slipping out of reach, or so he’s gathered, but Arcade is of the opinion that nothing should come before Six’s health, not even her own desire for vengeance.
The girl suddenly stops. In the time that it takes for them to reach her, the elevator doors open in front of her, and they all step inside without sharing a word. The jazzy music coming from the speakers is jarring against the background of their ragged breathing.
Six’s pained gasp is the first thing to break the silence. Arcade reaches a hand out to her, but she shakes her head, instead going to rummage inside ED-E’s storage for a small opaque bottle. She downs it in one drink, wincing at the flavor of the liquid.
Arcade’s brows furrow together. “What is that?” He asks, eyeing the familiar pattern decorating the bottle.
“More importantly,” Veronica says, scratching her head. “Do we have a plan? For when, or, um, if we manage to catch up to Benny?”
The girl sighs. “I guess… Find him, stop him from running, get my chip back. And then… Shoot him.”
A thick silence falls on the elevator’s occupants once again. Veronica stares at Six with wide eyes, mirroring the surprise Arcade had felt the first time the girl thought to share her plans about Benny. Now, instead of being taken aback by her words, he’s… stressed out by them. How exactly she plans on getting Benny into a situation where she’d be able to take a shot at him before he gets a shot at her, he doesn’t know. He pinches the bridge of his nose, closing his eyes to ward off the impending headache he can already feel building in his temples.
The elevator screen dings and the doors open before them. Six is on the move as soon as she steps outside, leaving a trail of small droplets of blood on the floor behind her. Arcade’s stomach twists with worry. He doesn’t care if she’s not done chasing Benny, if the bleeding gets any worse, he’s going to carry Six out of the casino and into The Fort.
Turning around the corner reveals the entrance to what he supposes is Benny’s suite, guarded, once again, by a man dressed in a black suit. He shoots them a look from behind his sunglasses, speaks a few words into his radio, and then frowns.
“You’re, uh, Six?” he asks the girl as they come to stand in front of him. She nods. “Swank says good luck.”
The words spark something in Six. She pushes through the huge pair of doors, slamming them open and damning a stealthy approach in the process, her brows furrowed deep into her face.
“Benny!” she yells with her hand around her mouth. “Where are you? Stop hiding and come face us alone this time, hijo de puta!”
Nobody answers. Veronica and Six begin slamming doors open, looking into every possible hiding place a man Benny’s size could fit into, while Arcade and ED-E remain at the entrance of the suit. He spares a look at the robot, then closes the doors behind them, figuring– Well, he doesn’t know what, but he’d like to avoid the guard’s curious looks if he can.
The room looks lived in, but not dirty, which probably a testament to the casino’s cleaning service rather than Benny’s tidiness. There are bottles of soda and various types of alcohol lining the counters, and a suitcase lying by the closet, a suit just as eccentric as the one Benny had been wearing poking out of it. Arcade frowns and nudges it all the way open with a foot. Inside there are a few more articles of clothing, but nothing more remarkable than the suit jacket.
It's weird that Benny had taken the time to come back to his suit and forgotten the suitcase anyway. He’d either come looking for something else or… Or. He’s not here anymore. A weak draft brushes against his cheek, and his head snaps up. He calls out to Six and Veronica, who stop in their tracks to watch as she yanks the closet door open and reveals… Another door.
“I hate him so much,” Six grinds out, fists squeezed at her sides. She stomps towards him and yanks the second door open, stepping inside without sparing a look back.
What awaits them on the other side of the wall is not something Arcade could’ve ever expected.
The smiling Securitron waves a robotic arm at them. “Hey there! Good to meet you all.”
Arcade’s chest collides with Six’s back, who, at some point, had stopped walking in favor of staring at the robot in the room. She shoots him a wide-eyed look, and he shrugs, failing to come up with any kind of explanation.
“Um, who are you?” she asks, wiping her hand across her face. Her shoulders start to drop minutely. “No, sorry, uh— Do you happen to know where Benny is? It’s kinda urgent.”
The Securitron makes a sound that would almost resemble choking before letting out a chuckle. “I really dislike being the one to give bad news, kiddo, but I’m afraid he went through the tunnel over here almost fifteen minutes ago,” the robot says, its smiling face flickering for a second. “He must’ve already run through the emergency exit at the end of the hallway.”
Six’s body sags. “Did he— Did he have a casino chip with him?”
“The platinum chip?” The robot asks. “Yes, he did.”
“No,” she gasps and scrambles to the door behind the Securitron.
Arcade runs a hand through his hair while Veronica chases after the girl. He turns to the robot, who shrugs with his hands.
“I didn’t mean to upset her,” he tells Arcade.
He sighs. “It’s not your fault, really.”
A muffled shout comes from the secret hallway, and not five seconds later, Veronica comes back, Six trailing behind her. The woman winces and points at the girl’s slumped figure with a thumb, which Arcade interprets as his sign to step in. He approaches Six slowly, gestures at ED-E to come closer to provide emotional support or whatever he does to make her feel better, and then crouches in front of her. The words become stuck in his mouth when he realizes that the shine on her cheeks that he’d mistaken for sweat was, in fact, tears sliding down her face.
“Hey, Six,” he says, careful to keep his voice soft. “What’s up?”
She sniffles. “I– Benny got away and– I’m just so angry, Arcade, I can’t fucking–” A sob wracks through her tiny frame, and she rubs her nose with a hand. “I should’ve shot him when I had the chance. Why didn’t I shoot him? Why can’t I shoot people, Cade? Is it my brain? Is something wrong with my brain?”
Arcade blinks. That is some question she’s just asked him. “Uh,” he eloquently says, as he struggles to think of a reply that won’t be a bald-faced lie.
“Don’t answer that,” Six says, shaking her head and stumbling into Arcade. She pushes herself off of him and raises her hands. “I’m sorry, I’m just so angry and– I think I’m going to be a little sick.”
The part of him used to take over in medical emergencies removes Six’s hat from her head and hands it to Veronica, clearing the way to touch the back of her hand to her forehead. It’s warmer than it should be. Arcade frowns and clasps a hand on Six’s shoulder.
“Are you dizzy? Having nausea?” he asks, guiding her back to Benny’s suite. The girl nods, and he tsks. “Okay. Try not to move your head so much, maybe you hit it while Benny’s guards were shooting at us. Let’s get you to the bath–” Before he can finish the rest of his sentence, Six stops, bracing herself against the doorway with a hand on the wall, and then retches on the floor. Arcade scrunches up his nose and keeps his eyes on her face. “Okay, never mind. Here’s good too.”