Chapter Text
As much as Veronica may like Six, she could only claim to know three things about her with confidence, but they were three pretty important things: the girl had been shot in the head a couple of months ago; ever since then, she’d been looking for the guy that did it; and she had a knack for getting people (and robots) to join her cause.
Against all odds, Six had managed to track down her would-be-assassin into The Tops, only to tragically lose his trail again after he attempted to kill her. Again. Veronica had witnessed it all, and it had been– frustrating was one word for it, she supposed. The man was a jackass, which hadn’t come as a surprise to her, considering he’d been the one to shoot Six. What she had been impressed by, however, was how he’d managed to escape the casino with Six’s chip right under their noses. She had to give it to him, he was a slippery bastard of the highest order.
It's a given that Six would feel like crap for a while after failing what Veronica knew to be her only mission in life. It’s not every day that one loses all objectives and sense of purpose. The biggest question around this whole thing was what Six planned to do next, but judging by how the second week of her moping around the Lucky 38 had been going until now, neither of them knew the answer to that one. The only thing she’s sure of is that Six’s not getting over her funk anytime soon.
Cass catches up to them a couple of days after everything has gone down. The look on her face as Veronica tells her where she’s been staying is priceless, as surprised as she’s ever seen this hardened woman look, or, well, that’s until she stumbles upon Six’s sorry form laying on one of the couches in the suite.
“What’s up with the kid?” she asks, eyebrows going up to her hairline. They’re not that far away from Six, but Cass isn’t trying to be discreet, and to be honest, the girl doesn’t seem to care that they’re talking about her. A strand of red hair falls on her face, free from the usual hat she wears out in the Wasteland.
Veronica stares at her for a second or two, then tucks the hair behind her ear, ignoring the way her heart jumps in her chest. She throws a look in Six’s direction, then shrugs. “She’s, uh…” she winces. “Do you remember when she told us she’s been looking for this bastard that lived in The Strip? Well, we found him, but he kind of… got away. It’s been a rough couple of days.”
“Oh,” Cass says, frowning. She turns to look at Six, then came to stand in front of her and crouched. “Hey. Not doing so good, huh?” She asks.
Veronica resists the urge to slap her palm to her face. What Cass has in guts, she lacks in tact. To their fortune, Six doesn’t seem to mind too much. Her eyes alternate between them for a second before she jerks her shoulders in a strained kind of shrug.
“Yeah, I get that,” Cass says. She sighs. “So, we’re chasing that motherfucker down, or what? He sure as hell can’t run forever.”
Six buries her head into the couch. “Nah,” she says, voice muffled by the cushions. “Didn’t work before. Won’t work now.”
Cass frowns again. “So you’re giving up?”
“Cass,” Veronica hisses, elbowing her side with a little more force than necessary. The other woman glares at her, but Veronica only widens her eyes in warning, and thankfully, she drops it.
The sulking goes on. It would be funny –it had been, at first, because it was so dramatic for a teen her size to look so much like a strewn-out mop– but now it gets to a point where they can’t let it go on in good conscience.
Joining their efforts turns out to be a fruitless endeavor. At first, Cass and Veronica had tried to remain at her side, keep her company as she rode out the frustration and lack of direction, figuring it was just a matter of time. She’d told Six all about her friends from the Brotherhood, keeping the name of their shared organization a secret, since she couldn’t know everyone’s opinions on them, and all it’d gotten her had been a hesitant smile. No inappropriate, loud laughter, no snorts, no grins. Cass had attempted to keep her spirits up by tossing a steady stream of sandwiches and pre-war snacks her way, and despite how it’d succeeded in drawing her attention, the girl only remained interested in them for a couple of minutes, munching on them and then staring at the food until her stomach growled loud enough to compel her to take another bite.
Arcade hadn’t been more successful on that front; at the beginning, he showed up at the suite every day before and after his shift to check on Six’s wounds and headaches. After they healed, he started coming by for the day just to talk Six’s ears off with stories about The Old Mormon Fort, Julie Farkas, and, on rare occasions, his own life, though none of it managed to elicit a verbal response from the girl. Six remained way more interested in lounging around the suite’s various couches and pouting, even going so far as to swat ED-E’s antennae when he tried to use it to poke at her side.
They watch this go on for another week until Cass gets a notice from the Crimson Caravan. She asks Veronica to come, and she only hesitates in her answer because she’s not sure about leaving Six on her own for so many days on end.
“You should go with her,” Six says, a couple of hours after Veronica has spoken to Cass about her doubts. “Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. This place is as safe as it gets. Plus, you’re kinda Cass’ right hand, right?”
She gapes at the girl. It’s been a while since she’s heard her utter such a long sentence. “Are you sure?" Veronica bites her lip, doubtful. "I don’t know if it’ll be good for you.”
Six waves a dismissive hand in the air. “Arcade comes by every day, and I’ve got ED-E and Victor here in case something happens. Go get some fresh air or something. You don’t all have to rot in here with me. I’ll be just fine.”
So. Veronica goes.
It takes a couple of hours of fresh air for her to realize how she’d been going stir-crazy for the past week. It’s not that Six’s not good company, usually, but the situation has drained her of her usual wit and chattiness. Being surrounded by people her age again feels good, and between the conversations with the guards and the people from the other caravan, the journey to Primm feels swift in a way it’s never been before.
The road isn’t quite as dangerous as she’d been expecting, and although Veronica tries not to let her disappointment show, the knowing looks Cass throws her way tell her that she must not have been very successful. She mopes about not getting to put her newly polished power fist to good use, but it doesn’t last long; before Veronica knows it, Cass is driving them back to the Crimson Caravan headquarters and steeling herself for what will surely be a couple of hours of paperwork. Veronica considers sticking around for a while to make the waiting and debriefing a little less boring for her, but Cass stops her before they step inside the main office with a hand on her lower back.
“I can see that you’re itching to go see the kid,” she says, lips pulling into a sideways smile. “So just go. I’ll see you at the suite later.”
Veronica blinks, fighting back the blood that rushes to her cheeks. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Cass reassures her and then bids her goodbye with a peck on her cheek.
Veronica leaves to get her bag in a daze, mind stuck elsewhere as she walks to Freeside. She greets the guards at the gate with an absent nod, then shows the fake passport Arcade had gotten for her to the robots at The Strip entrance out of habit, and she remains so focused on her thoughts that, by the time she reaches the Lucky 38, she almost misses Six stepping out of it, if not for the girl’s surprised greeting.
“Veronica?” She asks, throwing a look at ED-E. “You got back early.”
She stares at the girl as she gathers her thoughts, then shakes her head to clear her mind. “Um, yeah! The trip was shorter than we expected.” Veronica gasps as the situation dawns on her. “Wait a second, what are you doing out here?”
Six rolls her eyes and delivers a friendly punch to her shoulder, which sends Veronica reeling not because of the strength behind it, but because it’s so– her. She hadn’t realized that some of her mannerisms had rubbed off on the girl, and it makes her… It shines a new light on things.
“Ugh, just don’t,” Six says, a blush creeping up her face as she turns away. She stomps her feet towards the gate to Freeside, ED-E hovering in circles around her.
Veronica follows her with a pep in her step, laughing as she approaches her. “Don’t what? Say that I missed my little buddy very much? Or that traveling without someone to talk to all day long just isn’t as fun? Okay, I won’t,” she says, whistling and pretending not to notice Six’s narrowed eyes. “I guess I can’t give you the gift I brought you either.”
The girl does a double take. “You what?” She asks, face going slack from the surprise.
“We stopped a couple of times on our way to Primm and I found a bunch of these, and I happened to remember that you really like them.” Veronica digs inside her pockets to pull out a small, brown bundle that jiggles as she offers it to her.
Six takes it and unties it immediately. Her eyes shine as she takes one of the star bottle caps between her index and thumb. “Are you serious? These must be… Like, what, fifteen? How did you…?” She shakes her head, dropping the cap inside the bag and closing it with a tight knot. Six frets for a moment before launching herself at Veronica in a hug. “Thank you so much.”
Veronica chuckles as she wraps her arms around the girl, giving her a tight squeeze. A weight inside her chest lifts. A week ago, nothing would’ve gotten a reaction like this out of her. It's nice to see some of the childish glee back on her face. For a moment, as she inspected her gift, Six had looked her age again, whatever that number was. It was a big relief. Veronica had been thinking about taking more drastic measures, like bringing her around to the bunker to get her checked out, or maybe to Dr. Usanagi’s office… But things seemed to be getting better. Maybe it wouldn’t be necessary after all.
“It's nothing, Six,” she says, her voice as earnest as she can make it. The girl slowly unwraps herself from her waist, and Veronica gives her a big grin as soon as she gets a glimpse of her flushed face.
“Still,” she says, blush turning deeper as she avoids her gaze, and resumes her walk with a hurried pace. She shoves the bundle inside her messenger bag without sparing it a look.
Wordlessly, Veronica trails after her. Silence settles between them for a minute, with only the miscellaneous sounds from Freeside cutting into it. It’s only after being startled by one of the Van Graff's criers that Veronica realizes they’re getting further away from The Strip. “Where are we going?”
Six shoots her a look with a raised eyebrow. “I dunno about you, but I’m going to The King’s school because Arcade and I have been coming to watch them perform lately.”
“That’s how I can tell you’ve been spending way too much time with him,” Veronica sighs, “you’re getting sarcastic.”
Despite Six seeming to be in a hurry to get to the King’s show, the girl keeps a measured pace as they venture their way through Freeside. These days not many people will try to mug Veronica while she’s on her own, perhaps she looks too raggedy for that, but it’s still surprising that no one approaches them even once as they walk through the gates. The few looks directed their way seem to scatter as soon as their eyes find the flying robot keeping them company, and it’s fortunate because Veronica has no qualms about punching people into unconsciousness, but she’d rather avoid any fighting while Six is at her side. The girl doesn’t look like she’d be much of a help during a brawl.
Before destiny grants them a chance to put that theory to the test, the three of them reach The King’s School. A couple of the men by the entrance wave at Six in recognition, pointing her towards the inside of the building and sparing a nod to Veronica as well, which is as much of a welcome as she gets. It’s okay with her, however, because soon after they step into the theater room, Veronica spots a friendly face among the sea of people milling about the room, flagging them to his table. She nudges Six’s shoulder, who nudges her back before rushing to take a seat by Arcade, ED-E following close behind.
Veronica envelops Arcade in a one-armed hug as soon as she’s close enough to do so, and she’s a little surprised to feel him returning the gesture with a chuckle. When she steps back, he adjusts his glasses with one of his fingers and gestures at the chairs before sitting down.
“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he says, a small smile on his face. “When did you get back? How did it go?”
That seems to catch the girl’s attention. She leans forward on the table, eyes shining with interest. “Yeah, did something happen on the road?”
Veronica lets out a laugh. “No, nothing happened, sadly. Don’t tell Cass, but this time it was… a little bit boring.”
She spends the next few minutes relaying the trip to them, only the highlights, because she hadn’t been joking about that last part– it had been uneventful. Despite the lack of action or scientific discoveries, Six and Arcade listen to her story with attention, adding a comment every once in a while. Then, the lights in the room dim, and Veronica trails off her detailed description of Primm’s robotic sheriff, falling silent along with everyone else in the room.
The speakers next to the stage crackle for a moment, before a strong beat begins to pour out of them, eliciting a cheer from the audience, including Six and Arcade. Just as Veronica turns to watch the stage, one of the Kings comes out from behind the curtains, falling into step with the music and clearly into whatever character he’s playing. This time, when the people around her cheer, she follows their cue. The man on the stage comes up to the microphone, directing a cocky smile toward them before launching into a very familiar song.
Veronica could swear she’s heard this at least a dozen times, but she’s never been to a show like this before. Maybe from her holotapes?
“Oh, hey! How are you doing?” Six says, loud enough to be heard above the ruckus going on around their table. Despite all the noise, Veronica can see the appeal of coming to these shows, she’s even started humming along to the music. Enough is going on that even someone as down on her luck as Six had been can get out of her head a little bit.
A tall man, probably one of the tallest men she’s ever seen, plops down on the only free seat at their table, somehow managing to come off as suave in doing so. Veronica holds her giggle in.
“If it isn’t my little friend and her not-so-little friend,” he drawls, ruffling Six’s curls and shooting a smile at Arcade. He rolls his eyes, an amused smile dancing on his lips, before catching on Veronica’s incredulous stare. She opens her mouth to tease him, watching the blush climb up his neck at a worrying pace, but the tall guy from across the table beats her to it, “Believe I haven’t had the pleasure, miss…?”
She blinks a couple of times. Then, a grin stretches her lips. If he thinks he can fluster her as he did with Arcade, he’s very wrong.
“Oh, what a gentleman,” she coos, batting her eyelashes. “It’s Veronica. I’m a friend of Six’s too, and I guess his friend as well, depending on the day.” She sticks her elbow into Arcade’s ribs, earning some hushed words that she doesn’t catch as her arm is batted away.
The man barks out a delighted laugh, drawing her attention back to him. “You’re surrounded by interesting people, kid,” he says to Six, leaning back on his chair and turning slightly to the stage.
Six sighs dramatically, copying his movements. “I kind of live with them now, so trust me, I should know,” she laments.
Veronica’s smile slips away as Six’s word echo in her head. It’s not that she hadn’t thought about it, Cass knows how aware she is of their living situation and what it implies about their responsibilities towards Six. She knows she’s started caring for the girl, and she’s not scared by that prospect, it's just– Her entire commitment had started under the excuse of waiting until Six was okay and she didn’t need them anymore, because that’s how she’d met them. Days had turned into weeks, however, and now seeing her walking out of her tower didn’t feel like a good enough reason to stop taking care of the girl. Six hadn’t asked for any of these concerns, but Veronica found that she was willing to take them on anyway, and that was a scary thing to realize after having left her own home. How ready she was to find another one.
Loud barking near them has Six perking up along ED-E, her eyes searching around the room until she seems to find the source of the noise. “Can I go with Rex?” She asks The King with pleading eyes. “We’ll stay out of the room, promise.”
The King squints, leaning into her space on one of his arms. He’s met with a deep frown etched on the girl's eyebrows. He lets out a loud laugh, slapping a hand against his thigh. “Just messin’ with ya, kid. Sure, you go on– Get him running if you can, it’s good for his heart.”
Six mutters a hushed thanks and runs off after the dog, who, upon seeing her, starts barking that much louder than before. A few of the patrons turn their heads in their direction, and they stay the center of attention until Six manages to coax the dog to follow her to the front of the shop.
Veronica allows her own eyes to drift back to the company present at her table. Arcade doesn’t look worried– Well, no more than usual, that is, because there’s always that almost permanent crease between his eyebrows adorning his face, and then there’s also the matter of the anxiety disorder all Followers seem to develop. But all of that, Veronica’s learned, is a part of who Arcade is, and if he doesn’t look worried about Six being out of their sight, then she’ll take it as a sign that she shouldn’t be, either.
The second song of the evening comes to an end, met by abundant applause for the performer now making his way off the stage. The cheering becomes so loud for a moment that it makes her brain buzz with energy, but it soon quiets down into a mellow murmur floating around the room.
“I sure hope you’re enjoying the entertainment this evening,” the man says, leaning forward on the table with his elbow. “That boy worked hard to sing like that.”
Veronica smiles. “I am! I’m loving this place. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a live show like this before.”
A couple of seconds after the words have left her mouth, Veronica realizes that Arcade is directing an unreadable look her way, gaze so acute she can almost feel it touching her face. She forces herself to keep the smile on, as unfazed as possible.
The man whistles. “You don’t get out all that much, then,” he says.
Veronica’s heart drops to her feet. Shit. Shit. She shrugs and averts her panicked eyes towards the stage, wishing with all her might that the next performer is about to appear.
“Anyhow, we’re glad to have you,” he says, after an awkward pause. “I’m The King, by the way, and I run this fine establishment.”
Veronica nods quickly a couple of times. “Nice to meet you, uh, King. I’m Veronica.”
The King smiles a quick thing at them. The music begins to flow from the speakers, and as if on cue, he leans forward on his forearm, compelling Arcade and Veronica to lean in as well.
“I came down here ‘cause I had an urgent matter to discuss with you,” he says, his boisterous voice at odds with the now pinched look on his face. “I’m just gonna go ahead and guess that you’re both taking care of the kid?”
Isn’t that a question. Veronica spares a fleeting look at Arcade and finds that he looks as stricken as she feels. The King had asked it like one would ask somebody’s name; like it’s not a heavy subject to discuss when obviously neither of them are Six’s parents or relatives of any kind. Caring for people in the Wasteland is not easy, even more so when the people in question are kids.
Deep down, Veronica knows the answer to the question. She’d just never thought about externalizing it. She’d grown attached to Six soon after meeting her, and caring for her had come naturally after that fact. She’s a part of her inner circle, the way Cass is, the way a few select individuals are, back at the Brotherhood.
The King’s face softens, and he waits patiently for them to answer what he already knows. It dawns on Veronica that despite what her first impression of him had been, he seems to be a sensitive person.
After what feels like an eternity, Veronica lets out a long sigh and nods. “Yeah, we are.” She avoids Arcade’s gaze, focusing instead on The King’s growing smile.
“Good, that’s good,” he mutters, almost drowned out by the music around them. “Didn’t think the rooms here would suit her, being the only girl around and all that.”
“Wait, what?” Arcade asks with a frown, voicing her thoughts.
The King raises his hands in a placating gesture. “Woah there,” he says, “The only reason I was considering it was because of what I heard— This shady NCR fella is asking about a kid whose description fits our mutual friend a little too well if you know what I mean.” He clicks his tongue in distaste. “Guess those roaches won’t even leave kids alone nowadays, huh?”
Veronica feels her mouth fall open, and she remains like that for a good thirty seconds until most of the surprise melts away. By then, The King has already begun explaining the operation he’s set up for the last couple of days: he’s got eyes following the guy from Camp McCarran to Freeside, a walk he seems to make daily, and he’s got ears paying special attention to any mention of Six around the School’s perimeter.
“Wait,” Veronica croaks, clearing her throat when it earns her a raised eyebrow from the man. She exchanges another stunned look with Arcade, who then rubs the bridge of his nose between pinched fingers, stress coming off him in waves. “Are we talking about a white guy, kind of short, wears a red beret, sunglasses he never takes off?”
The King stares at her and then huffs. “Uh, yeah. You know the guy, then, I take it?” He asks, the surprise evident in his voice.
“Sadly, we do, yes,” Arcade interjects, having recovered from his brief meltdown. Veronica’s mouth twists in a smile despite herself. “If he— When he comes back, could you please send him to our Fort?”
The King frowns. “Will do, bud. Is he going to be a problem?”
Veronica and Arcade share another look. The crinkle is back between his eyebrows, and God isn’t that a feeling she can relate to. But not, it wouldn’t be fair to put Boone on The King’s shitlist without a good reason— Not that abandoning Six isn’t a good reason, but this could get him killed. She supposes they can wait to see how it’ll turn out.
She reluctantly shrugs, and Arcade acknowledges it with a slow nod. He turns to The King, grimacing. “No, I don’t think so. Not yet, at least. We know him. Knew him. Whatever.”
The King’s eyes alternate between them, unconvinced, but he lets it go without further questions. “Well then. If you say so.”
⋄⋄⋄
Arcade turns the medallion over in his hands, as though another inspection will reveal a new detail he’d missed. His efforts prove to be in vain; it’s nothing but a simple bronze circle, depicting an image of a bull and the words Legio Caesaris on the bottom.
He sighs and leans back on his chair, scrubbing a hand up and down his face. His eyes shift to Six, who looks at him expectantly. “Not a dull moment in your life, is there?”
She winces. “That’s a way of putting it,” she mumbles, running her fingers along the rim of her hat. “Do you… Do you think it’s a bad thing? That he found me?”
“Well…” Arcade clears his throat, stalling for a moment. “Who did you say gave you this thing?”
“It was a frumentarii, and I knew him.” He turns to her with what must be a shocked expression on his face. “I guess I forgot to mention it? His name is Wool— I mean, Vulpes or something. When I was on my way to Novac with ED-E, I went through Nipton, and it was all ashes. Vulpes was there, and he gave me this speech about the town being… bad, I guess. I didn’t get all of it. He’d burned it down. I mean, you probably heard about it already, on the radio.”
For a moment, Arcade is left speechless. He considers Six’s nervous disposition, the way her hand hasn’t stopped shaking since she began talking, and he hesitates. He doesn’t want to push her too far, considering she’s already feeling stressed out about this, but he needs more information to make up his mind about this situation. He doesn’t know whether or not it's a bad thing that The Legion has found her– He doubts they ever lost track of her in the first place, but they’ve reached out now, so it must be for a reason. Maybe she’s got something they want. It could be an object, sure, but he’s heard her talking about some losing some chip, so it’s not that. It could be knowledge of some kind, then.
Whatever it is, it becomes evident to Arcade that there’s a piece missing from the puzzle, and there are only two options he can see: either Six is keeping something from him, or someone is keeping something from her.
He gives her a long look, and it only makes her grow even more restless, eyes shining under the dim light the tent offers. Arcade sighs, resigned to having to wait, and extends the medallion to her. She takes it with hesitant hands.
“Well,” he says, “I can’t answer your question for now, if I’m being honest. Let’s just hope that you don’t have to use The Mark anytime soon.”
His words don’t have the calming effect he’d aimed for. Six gulps and stares at the floor for a second, before offering a curt nod. Arcade wonders once again whether he should ask, but in the end, he chooses not to. It’s probably not a good idea to start this conversation at The Fort, anyway.
Six doesn’t leave his tent for the rest of the day. Just like when she’d recruited him for the HELIOS job, the girl offers her help for the tireless task of making stimpacks, and he comes to appreciate it greatly after he’s called to stitch a man and his daughter’s gecko bites. Having her there, he doesn’t have to worry about falling behind on their supply of them; she’s surprisingly efficient. He says as much to her, because he believes in positive reinforcement, and watches her blush so hard that even the tips of her ears change color.
After the shift slows down, Six sits down at one of the only two chairs inside the tent, sighing as she gets to rest her feet. She looks tired, the beginning of dark bags settling under her eyes.
“If you’re tired, you should go home.”
She tenses up, eyes glued to her lap. A minute or two passes, and she says, “What if he’s waiting there again? Outside the Lucky 38.”
Oh. Arcade blinks. He hadn’t thought about that– Of course she’d be rattled by the encounter. He keeps forgetting she’s just a kid.
“I doubt it. He’s already accomplished his mission,” he points at the bag where she’d stored the medallion. “But if it helps, I can walk you home?”
Six looks at him with wide eyes. “Would you? Really?” At his nod, she adds, “And could you stay the night, too? If you’re not too busy?”
“Of course,” he says, a small smile on his lips. “I finish my shift in an hour. You’re welcome to wait here until I’m done.”
Six beams at him. For the rest of the afternoon, she alternates between tidying up his workspace and lying down on an unoccupied cot as she watches him read through his research. She’s so silent that Arcade almost forgets he’d made a promise to her if it weren’t for ED-E’s shrill beeping an hour later. He doesn’t know if the robot set the alarm itself or if Six had something to do with it, but he takes it as the sign it is to stop working for the day.
The walk to the Lucky 38 is peaceful, as is their dinner. Six presents him with a wide range of pre-war snacks, kept in almost mint condition inside the casino, and he takes his time picking some of them to eat. Afterward, they settle on the couches in the main room and chat for a long while, the conversation fading out as the hours go by. In the end, Six falls asleep where she sits, and Arcade takes it as a sign to retire to one of the beds from the guest room.
The next day arrives before he knows it. Feeling a little slow, Arcade makes himself some breakfast and chats with Six again, who’d been waiting for him to wake up by the kitchen table. Then, she walks him to the casino’s entrance, reluctant to venture out of it, and wishes him good luck. It’s enough to leave him smiling a good couple of hours into his shift until a certain Rose of Sharon Cassidy shows up at his tent with a matching pair of bloody knuckles.
“You ever call me that again and I’ll meld those glasses of yours with your nose,” she threatens with a scowl after he reads her medical file out loud.
“Ookay,” Arcade says, raising his eyebrows. “Let me see your hands, then.”
He begins cleaning the wounds with some gaze and clean water, eliciting a hiss from the woman in front of him. At his sympathetic look, Cass sighs and launches on the story of how she got into a fight outside Freeside. She’d been carrying some stuff over from the Crimson Caravan when some shithead had tried to get smart with her and Veronica, going so far as to push Veronica in an attempt to steal the box of junk she’d been carrying. Her face becomes stony as she tells him how she’d beat him to the ground after that, though Arcade catches a slight shine of pride on her face at the triumphant outcome of the fight. Apart from the hands, she’d remained unscathed.
He mulls over her words in silence as he works. Cass had been trying to stay away from fights lately, but this situation had pushed her too far, it seemed. He had a suspicion that it wasn’t so much about the attempted robbery as it was about her companion at the time. Arcade had thought he’d seen something between the two, but he’d never asked; it wasn’t his place, and in any case, he didn’t want to make things awkward by acknowledging something unspoken. There weren’t many people that still cared about these things in the Wastes, but one could never be too sure.
He tries to sneak a discreet glance at Cass’ face but fails, which becomes evident by the crimson red making its way up her neck.
“Shut the fuck up,” she warns him, avoiding his eyes.
Arcade huffs, raising his hands with the cotton and the alcohol still in them. “I haven’t said anything!”
She mumbles something else, her voice too low for him to hear despite their proximity.
He rolls his eyes before returning to his ministrations, now moving on to spreading aloe ointment on the parts of her hand without broken skin. He hums a melody under his breath, something he’d heard on the Lucky 38’s radio this morning while he had breakfast, and wraps a light bandage over Cass’ knuckles.
Behind him, the entrance to the tent rustles as someone opens the flaps to come inside.
“Sorry, if you’re looking for a doctor, try the other–”
He doesn’t get to finish his sentence. As he turns around, the sight of Boone standing right in front of him is enough to leave him speechless.
The first thing about him that Arcade notices is how ragged he looks.
Years of medical training have prepared him to identify and catalog injuries on sight, and the time he’s spent working at Freeside has taught him to look for the ones that remain hidden as well. As he looks at Boone, he focuses on both of those things: a bruised cheekbone, a bandage covering his forearm, posture hunched to the right, meaning some kind of stitches under his shirt, but his rifle remains in place at his back, same with the beret and the sunglasses. It must not be a debilitating injury, then.
Once the medical concern has been taken care of, Arcade feels righteous indignation building up inside of him. He should give him a piece of his mind. He opens his mouth to say something, but Boone beats him to it.
“Kid’s not here?” he asks, doing a quick sweep of the room with his eyes.
Arcade shuts his mouth with a click. He glares at Boone with his arms crossed, refusing to answer. He can’t believe the nerve of this man. To ask about Six after he so ungraciously abandoned her at HELIOS, made her sick with worry–
“Jesus Christ,” Cass mutters, pushing herself off the table she’d been leaning against. She frowns at Arcade and then regards Boone with an icy look, uncharacteristic of her usual temper. “Where have you been, dude? We all thought you weren’t coming back.”
Her words seem to give Boone a pause. A deep scowl takes over his face, and he opens his mouth a couple of times, unable to find the words. His shoulders slump slightly. “Guess that’s on me, I didn’t make it clear enough,” he says, staring at a point behind them. He clears his throat. “So, she’s not here? Where is she? The, uh– The King said–”
“I know what he said, I asked him to send you to me,” Arcade snaps. Boone glares at him, and for the first time since he entered his tent, Arcade approaches the man. “Before you saw her, I wanted to ask you just what you think you’re doing.”
Boone huffs. “Don’t see how that’s any of your business.”
He lets out a dry laugh. “Oh, you don’t? I’ll tell you, then,” he points a finger at Boone. “This became my business ever since you left me in charge of caring for a little girl without any warning whatsoever, who, by the way, was worried sick by your departure. So, you’ll have to excuse me if I’m a little curious as to where you’ve been these past weeks, or what your plans are now, okay?”
“It’s not like that,” Boone says, frowning as he takes a step closer to him.
Arcade watches him with caution. No matter how annoyed he may be, he’s got no interest in fighting the man in his place of work; he’s not dumb, Boone could beat his ass without breaking a sweat.
“I don’t–” Boone says, raising his hands in a placating gesture. He scratches his head under his beret and huffs. “You don’t have any right to–”
Cass clears her throat and comes to stand between them, laying a hand on Arcade’s arm and extending another towards Boone. “Okay boys, let’s calm down a notch, alright?” she says, her voice indicating it’s not really a question. “I need to leave, but I don’t wanna have whatever happens next weighing on my conscience, so let’s cut this short: Cade, he can see the kid if he wants to, can’t he?”
Arcade purses his lips, glaring at Cass. The answer is so obvious that, normally, he wouldn’t even answer, but for the sake of playing nice, he does. “Of course. I’m not keeping her hostage, after all.”
Cass lets out a long breath, then turns to Boone. “So, there you go.” She pats his shoulder once. “Just– Man, all we’re asking here is that you mind your words around her, alright? It hasn’t been a great couple of weeks. Wasn’t ‘cause of you, it was just… Shit happened. Well,” she throws her hands up, “That’s it. I’m out. You guys be good, okay?”
Arcade shakes his head, frustrated and slightly amused by the woman’s inability to say more than three earnest sentences in a row. When it matters, however, she manages. That’s a valuable quality to have, he guesses.
She pulls the tent open, then stops, remembering something. “Thanks for the hand, doc,” Cass says, glancing back at him. “Left some caps on the table. See you around.”
Before he can refuse her money, Cass leaves, and both Arcade and Boone are left staring at the tent flaps swaying in place. After a moment of silence, he turns to look at the other man, who is very clearly glaring at him behind his sunglasses. It throws him off a little. He thought they’d made peace after Cass’ intervention.
As he ruminates on this, Arcade’s eyes catch on the bruised skin of his face, then make their way through all the injuries he’d cataloged at first glance. He can already feel what is about to come out of his mouth, and he can tell he won’t like it one bit.
“Do you want me to take a look at those?” he asks, pointing in his general direction with his chin.
Once again, Boone seems to be caught off guard by the words. He looks down, as if having forgotten of whatever wounds he’s sporting at the moment, then stares at Arcade. Just when he’s about to take the offer back, Boone nods. “That would be good. Thanks.” He hesitates for a second. “But–”
Arcade waves a dismissive hand at him, gathering supplies with the other one. “Let me guess, no questions? Don’t worry, we can remain in awkward silence if you want to.”