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I’d stretched out on my back on the bed by the time I woke up. I hadn’t bothered to get up, I’d just spent the past hour thinking. My stomach chewed itself like a rabid dog, but it wasn’t the same old pain, it felt different. I was starved. I couldn’t tell anymore if that meant the old pain would come back or not. If it did, this would go the way it had always been going. I’d spent the past forty minutes convincing myself to keep trying. I’d give it a week. If it didn’t work by then, this was over. I wasn’t going to let myself continue to suffer when nothing was ever going to change. But I had to try to hope. I had to try.
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I lay on my back for another ten minutes while I wondered where Arcade was and why he wasn’t in bed beside me. In that time, the elevator arrived. I completely ignored the voices and sound until Veronica walked over to the foot of my bed.
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"You two have another fight?"
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I opened my eyes and frowned at her. "No, why?"
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"Because Arcade’s asleep on the couch in the rec room. Lucia wants to talk."
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"About Arcade being asleep in the rec room?"
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"No," She frowned and corrected, "At least... I don’t think so? She’s in the kitchen last I saw."
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I stood and Vero noticed my lip. "What happened?"
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I waved dismissively and rubbed the scab away until I saw blood on my hand. I might actually need stitches. "That was me."
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Cass sauntered in with a bottle of whiskey and a half-eaten snack cake. She’d apparently heard the conversation and seen my lip. She smirked, "Is he that big or did things get kinky?"
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"Hush." Veronica cringed before I spoke, probably because we thought of each other as siblings, although I doubt she wanted to hear anything like that about Arcade either even if it wasn’t true. I certainly didn’t want to hear about her sexual exploits. Cass laughed and I staggered sleepily past her to the kitchen.
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The kitchen was empty. I heard Cass and Vero in the other room, though I couldn’t hear their conversation clearly, but no one interrupted me during the next two hours. I synthesized Lily’s medicine along with some Med-X and a few other things I thought the courier might hit me for not having produced. I had only just finished when Lucia returned from her room, changed into a fairly clean dress and seemingly planning to head to a casino or a bar.
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She skipped up to me, grinning, and I had the uncanny feeling she was about to punish me for something. "Have you been enjoying yourself?"
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"No." It was true enough.
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Her smile faded, but right now I think she was disappointed that she didn’t get to hurt me. "Are you and Arcade still on good terms, or is he the reason your lip’s bleeding?"
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I wiped the blood away with the back of my hand. I’d forgotten to tend to that. "We’re fine, this was my fault."
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She waited for an explanation, but I guess this time she didn’t care enough to make me tell her. "Good. Both of you are coming with me tomorrow, I’ve got a job for you. We’ll be away for at least two days, so get packing." She started towards the elevator and paused, jabbing her thumb towards the rec room. "Go relay that message to your boy toy."
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Aside from a momentary pause to ponder that choice description— and another much shorter pause to grab breakfast— I went to do as I’d been told. I hadn’t exactly had time to point out my decided lack of wasteland skills, but that would have probably provoked her to kill me. I might bring it up tomorrow, when I had a doctor with a gauss rifle at my side.
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I paused halfway across the room towards the couch. Arcade didn’t fit on most furniture, at least not lying down. His feet rested against the back of one arm and the way his neck curved over the other arm looked uncomfortable even if it left his hair dangling towards the floor in a fairly amusing way. He hadn’t even bothered to change into those adorable pajamas last night.
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* * *
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Somebody was sitting on the arm of the couch, beside my feet. For a moment, I thought that had woken me up on its own before I noticed the hand on my knee. Thin, strong fingers drummed on my knee cap again. "Arcade?"
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I opened my eyes and propped myself up on my elbows. To be honest, I hadn’t fully expected to see Max again. After yesterday, I’d thought I might wake up to find him dead or just gone. He seemed... uncomfortable with how much I cared about him, and with Veronica also living here I wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d decided to leave the tower or even just leave the suite to take his life. With his understanding of computers, he might have been able to reach a room in the Lucky 38 where none of us would ever find his body. That mentality got to me on a personal level, but I could see that he might be the type to do that.
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Today, however, he looked as if yesterday had never happened. I opened my eyes to find him perched on the arm of the couch, with one arm holding him steady as he nibbled a small slice of apple. A scarlet line traced the edge of his lower lip, which curved in only a trace of a smile. He was still tense, but he seemed so much happier that for a moment I worried I was dreaming. Max patted my knee and stood up. "Lucia wants us to go with her somewhere tomorrow. She says we’ll be gone a few days."
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"Oh?" Was he angry with me? The courier had obviously asked him to relay that message, but he hadn’t even prefaced it with a `good morning." ...but at the same time, he was eating. "You’re only here to tell me that?"
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He frowned. "No. I just... I don’t want to forget or..." he glanced evasively down the hall, "or be interrupted." Ah. He was afraid he was going to get sick, so he wanted to tell me the important stuff first. His frown became more worried than quizzical, "Why? And why did you sleep out here?"
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"Uh... no reason." I stood up and walked over to the kitchen with Max trailing behind me. I didn’t meet his gaze until I’d settled at the table with my own breakfast. He didn’t believe me.
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"I know you had a reason, you usually do."
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I hesitated. After a while, I had to admit, "You... you scared me yesterday. I thought you’d given up."
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"Does it mean you were wrong?" He sat down across from me, being careful not to touch the table, presumably because he was afraid of crumbs. His rash had gone away completely. "I just thought yesterday was the typical problems for returning to normal food after not eating for a while."
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"It might be," that was true, "but I wasn’t sure you knew that, and I thought you might think or somehow know that I’d been wrong."
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He scoffed and laughed, "I don’t think you’re wrong after one bad day." I’d seen many sides of him since we’d met. Usually there was just his playful, seductive mask or the hopeless, hurting man who wanted nothing more than an escape from his pain, but lately I’d been seeing a different person. I saw that side of him now, if only for a brief moment. The smile faded from his eyes, but pain didn’t fill them; instead I saw determination on a scale I’d never seen before. This was a man who’d survived for years in constant pain, exhausted every resource he could find in the hopes of a cure, forced himself to control his symptoms and his body as best as he could, and maybe even learned medicine in the hopes of finding a cure on his own. Was this the man Max would be if he was cured? Was this who he might have been if he’d never been sick?
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That adamant person faded a little as he continued to explain, "I’m giving this one week. I won’t do anything before then, but I can’t guarantee that I’ll keep trying after that." The sorrow was back in his eyes. "I want this to work, I’ve never been more desperate for anything in my life," he admitted, "but I can’t keep living like this if it fails. I’ve been trying too long to keep believing that something else might work." That brought too many emotions for me to react right away. He didn’t wait for a reply.
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"I think that you’re right."
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I didn’t. "Why?"
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"Because that pain is gone."
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He shrugged and finished his slice of apple. "It’s... difficult to be sure sometimes. I think this pain is different. I think that, right now, I’m just hungry." He went into the fridge and waited until I took the hint to unlock the box of apples for him. He cut a larger slice and put them away while I returned to my breakfast. "I don’t know for certain, and I admit, I was... I was scared last night. I thought it might have failed, but now, I don’t think it did. I know I’m not unbiased, I know that I really want this to work, but... I also have faith in you."
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I must have looked as stunned as I felt because he cocked his head to the side. "You don’t, do you?"
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"I..." As much as the man’s fragile optimism impacted his health, I couldn’t lie when he asked me directly. "I have my doubts. I don’t really think I’ll be able to figure it out if Dr. Usanagi couldn’t."
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He nodded, perfectly understanding, despite the fact that his life was on the line. "It’s okay."
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"`It’s okay’??!" Max frowned and nodded pointedly towards the door and I had enough decency to lower my voice. "Max, this is your life we’re talking about. How can you accept—?"
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"I accept it because I’ve stopped expecting anything different."
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"I know," I admitted, "but you can’t just..." I trailed off because of his expression. He had a subtle, stubborn smile and I realized that he wasn’t going to be convinced whatever I told him.
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Max had the nerve to laugh dryly, "I really can’t believe how stubborn you are sometimes." He ignored my flustered attempt to explain that insisting he keep living wasn’t just stubbornness, and before I could find the words, Cass sauntered into the kitchen with an open bottle of whiskey.
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We both fell silent and looked at her. Cass raised her hands, "Don’t mind me, I just want to make sure you don’t try to shoot him again."
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Max and I exchanged a glance. I sighed. "Cass, I’m not going to shoot him. I’d really appreciate if you stopped expecting that."
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She shrugged. "So was the first time just really kinky roleplay?"
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I didn’t dignify that question with an answer and apparently she took Max’s amused snort as confirmation. He left the room while Cass began a line of questioning about the relationship we didn’t actually have. I ate my breakfast while silently debating the pros and cons of lying to Cass and suppressing my annoyance at Max for having just left me to handle the drunken caravaner.
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* * *
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I passed Veronica paging wistfully through an old fashion magazine while I walked over to the crate of my things in the bedroom. She looked up. "Max, I’m here if you need to talk..."
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I stared at her in absolute confusion. Had she realized I was sick? ...No... no, she’d just heard Arcade yell and she thought we’d had a fight. Technically, we had, it just wasn’t the kind of fight she would have expected. "Vero, I’m fine." I rummaged through my clothes, debating what to wear tomorrow. There was always the chance that we’d be traveling into the mountains, so I’d bring a coat, but we’d probably stick to warmer climes. I wondered vaguely if this was another robot repair run or if Lucia might be dragging me along to help with some form of medical research. She was bringing Arcade, but that seemed to be because he could shoot and wasn’t Cass or busy with other things. It was more important that I looked unrecognizable than competent; robots didn’t care and if I was saving lives, my work would prove my skill. I pulled out my rucksack and stuffed my only winter coat inside. It was an old fur-lined trenchcoat, folks said it used to belong to my grandfather and supposedly my little brother had one like it, but I wasn’t sentimental about a coat. I’m not sure if she saw what I was packing or if she just realized that I planned to go somewhere, but Veronica dropped her magazine and stood up.
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"Max, if there’s a problem, just talk to him, don’t leave..."
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I scoffed and stood, slinging my mostly empty bag over my shoulder out of habit. "I’m not leaving until tomorrow." When her scowl remained, I corrected, "With Arcade and Lucia. I’m not leaving forever because of some stupid fight, you know me, Vero."
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Her judging frown became one of confusion. "Isn’t that pretty much what you did before?"
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I sighed. She would bring that up, but she didn’t know the half of it. "That fight wasn’t the reason, only a small part of it." I’d never explained why I left and hadn’t planned to, but it occurred to me now that if Arcade’s theory proved wrong, I might well end my life without Veronica ever finding out my motives, so I admitted, "I left for some of the same reasons you did. And because of... well, because it got to the point that I had to be who they wanted me to be and I have other plans."
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"So you just abandoned them?" I should have expected her anger. She’d always been more committed to them than I had ever been. I’d lost my loyalty to family long ago, she was the only exception and I wasn’t loyal to her so much as I liked her. If she’d acted like Lucia, I wouldn’t have cared what she thought of me as long as her opinion didn’t threaten my comfort. Veronica had never known why I left, and now that she did, she was understandably pissed. "They need you, G-Max." She scowled and I knew she’d emphasized my chosen nickname pointedly.
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For most of my life, I’d known how to deal with her and I knew right now that she wanted me to get angry. If I got angry, we could have a shouting match and we’d both be upset, but she might convince me and she’d at least know that I cared. I didn’t. I didn’t need to fake my calm as I simply shrugged. "They have my brother. Let him save them."
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Veronica smacked me. The sentiment wasn’t really behind it, so it wasn’t hard— at least not by her standards— but it still left me reeling. She forced herself to calm down and let out an exasperated groan. "You’re so...!" Her hands flailed wordlessly and she snapped, "Your little brother’s fifteen. And on the other side of the country. And we don’t even know..."
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"Look," I pointed out coldly, "last I heard, the kid killed a deathclaw singlehandedly, if any of them are still alive, I’d bet caps that he’s one of them." I’d planned to say more, but Arcade stepped into the room, carrying the overly worn backpack he occasionally took on longer trips and probably trying to escape Cass, who followed him. They both heard the end of our conversation. Arcade raised an eyebrow and Cass was less subtle.
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"You’ve got a brother who killed a deathclaw? Think he’ll look like you when he grows up?"
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"Cass, he’s fifteen, don’t be... making plans."
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She raised her hands, one of which held an open bottle of whiskey, "Hey, I’m just saying it’s a shame if nobody in your family even goes both ways."
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Vero sighed and stared at her. She’d had enough of dealing with me, I knew that when she turned her exasperated stare back my way. "I’m gonna see if Mick and Ralph got any decent dresses yet." She left and after a few moments of watching me pack and probably hoping to see another thong, Cass got bored and returned to the kitchen to drink. I’d settled onto the floor to pack so I didn’t need to array my clothing on a bed and Arcade sat down beside me to pack his own bag.
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"I didn’t realize you had a brother."
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"Half brother," I corrected. "Mom was... well, she was kind of a slut."
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He sounded awkward and I guess it disturbed him that I’d insulted my own mother, so I clarified, "I mean, she was great. She raised me well and she really believed in... what we were doing, but she really did sleep around. They realized I wasn’t her husband’s kid after he died and after she had my brother, who probably was his, so they tried to groom him for... whatever, and I got the short end of the stick as the family bastard." I felt Arcade staring at me, but that only drove me to speak more quickly as I stared at the shorts I was folding and stacking in my bag. "Then he acts all timid and they change their mind, they try to train me and kick him across the county, but by this point I’m not having that after they just set me aside, so I left and now he might be dead, so screw them!" I’d gotten more emotional than I’d expected and by the end, I felt tears in my eyes. For all I knew, my little brother had never been told that I existed, I hadn’t seen him in person since he’d been a toddler and for all my bitterness, I really hoped the kid hadn’t been hurt or imprisoned by what people wanted from him. The very real possibility that he’d been killed hit me harder than I’d expected. Still refusing to look at Arcade, I stuffed a pistol and a few more important tools into my pack and leaned back against the foot of the bed, staring up at the ceiling.
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A slightly callused hand slid across my shoulders and Arcade wrapped one arm around me. "You don’t know for certain. If he really killed a deathclaw, maybe he is still alive..." My sardonic glance ended that quixotic assurance. Arcade changed tacks. "What was his name?"
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Two days later, after way too much walking through blistering deserts with backpacks and munitions, we found ourselves on the road near Novac. Lucia had yet to admit our destination, but now she pointed at the towering power plant ahead, "There." She sounded so bubbly and right now I almost shared her sentiment. Helios 1, for one thing, left us with an opportunity to help most of Vegas, an opportunity that— between Max and Lucia— I felt confident we wouldn’t pass up. For another, I’d spent the past three days worrying that her secrecy meant we were headed to Fortification Hill or at least Cottonwood Cove. She still had the Mark of Caesar and I’d seen Lucia charge into certain death often enough that I wouldn’t have put it past her. Luckily, we were just walking into the NCR’s second-most-coveted power plant.
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Although I still wore my usual Follower’s lab coat, Max proved more paranoid about his past. He’d spent the last two days in tight and battered black shorts and spiked leather armor that covered very little of his skin. The outfit left him looking like a Fiend even if he hadn’t been wearing one of their helmets above a set of soot-streaked goggles and a red bandana that covered the rest of his face. He’d smeared what may have been oil or ink in his hair to leave it black and spiky and with the rest of his face hidden, even I wouldn’t have recognized him. It was probably a tactical choice that, with his face completely hidden, he’d left his statuesque figure prominently displayed. His bracers covered his forearms and his collar remained around his neck, but they blended in with his armor’s strips of leather and the heavy chain around his waist. He carried a rucksack slung over one shoulder and he’d brought a tire iron to complete his raider disguise. On the long, boring walk, I found myself staring at him more than once.
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I’d brought the apples and we’d picked up a brahmin steak last night— Lucia’s treat and probably some form of thanks for us joining her— and Max seemed perfectly healthy. I think he realized this and knew what it meant. He’d eaten his steak and this morning he’d even talked about trying to find some prickly pears when we camped tonight. He’d had a spring in his step all day, which did nothing to make his body less distracting and I’d been watching him cross back and forth over the pavement and climb, hop, and occasionally cartwheel over rocks and ruined cars. Lucia seemed just as distracted by the man’s athletic displays, though she didn’t know the reason. She keep glancing my way as if I’d slipped Jet into his water.
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When Lucia announced our destination, Max had fallen slightly behind; he’d been treading the top of the divider between the lanes and keeping pace with us easily until a missing section gave him pause. I’d expected him to jump the gap, as he’d done several times before when he’d encountered similar gaps, but when I glanced back, I found him leaning against the barricade and staring ahead at the power plant. I couldn’t hope to guess his expression, but his shoulders sagged and something about the still of his figure suggested the truth of his mood.
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"Max?" Lucia looked back at him when I spoke and I didn’t see her move as I walked towards him. "What is it?"
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He sighed. "I... I’m not fond of that place." He scuffed his boots on the concrete behind him and scratched an itch beneath his collar. "Fine. Let’s go to Helios 1. At least we’re staying somewhere else tonight, right?"
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"No." I turned back towards Lucia in surprise and realized she’d drawn her rifle, even though she held it casually in one hand right now. "I pulled some strings," she explained, "We’ve got cots in the plant for the night, we’ll get to work in the morning."
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Max sighed in resignation but didn’t bother to protest. The news balanced out his joy that he might be pain free for the rest of his life and his walk became a more neutral stride— although he changed his gait to emphasize his beauty as we neared the plant. He probably did that because right now all but one of the soldiers outside were women. Particularly bored-looking women who all turned to watch us with something beyond typical soldier caution. I felt uncomfortable and didn’t know if it was because Max might flirt with them or because one of them also looked at me the same way. Did Lucia bring us just because we were guys and I was reasonably good looking? Boone seemed like he should have been the obvious choice, but I guess he was still off fighting the Legion somewhere. It didn’t surprise me that he’d left, but I knew he was probably dead; he’d never had much concern for his own personal safety. I guess it was good that he hadn’t stuck around or between him and Max they would have both ended up dead.
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Lucia still had a good reputation with the NCR, and having arrived with Max and myself, the soldiers practically rolled out a red carpet. There were men inside, but such a high percentage of women that I wondered if the NCR didn’t like putting women on the front lines or if they simply hoped to avoid pregnancy among those who’d been drafted. I felt so uncomfortably observed that I barely considered Max until we’d reached the NCR’s lead "scientist."
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"Fantastic!" It was the first time Max said anything since we arrived— Lucia introduced him as a technical expert and despite their stares—skeptical and otherwise— the soldiers had let him by. Now that he spoke, I realized he had that fake joy to his tone like he was hiding something. I was amazed that I could tell without seeing his smirk. Was he just scared of the NCR soldiers or was something else bothering him?
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Lucia and I both turned around to see what he sounded so excited about, but it proved to be a name. The man in front of us looked and froze. "Whoa! Whoa, man, I said I was good for the caps—"
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"Relax," Max assured him, pulling down the goggles and bandana just long enough to show his smirk and very distinct face before replacing his disguise, "It’s just me, man." He still sounded on edge, but maybe just a little calmer. Fantastic, on the other hand, relaxed completely.
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"Max! You had me going there, I thought you were... How’d you get in here, anyway?"
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"He’s with me," Lucia interjected and then turned to Max. "You know this guy?"
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"`This guy’? I’m fucking Fantastic."
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Max, standing beside me, was the only one who heard my muttered retort and he laughed. It was a genuine laugh and he seemed just a little more sincere in his good humor when he explained, "Fantastic came by the Gomorra pretty often, but that was a while ago." Both of us inferred the wrong thing and Max raised his hands, "No, he’s straight— I think—"
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"Fuck yeah, I’m straight." Fantastic gestured at the building around us, "Have you seen how many chicks they’ve got working here? I couldn’t ask for a sweeter gig!" He paused and thought aloud, "Well... maybe I could. Maybe if they paid me in chems and all the women were naked..." He looked at Max, "Hey, man, how easy is it to work at the Gomorra?"
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"I don’t recommend it, the pay’s terrible, and they’ve got iron-clad contracts, pain in the ass to get out."
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* * *
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Lucia glared at me. "Let’s just get on with this, shall we?" She focused on Fantastic and the two got into a bit of an argument before Lucia offered sex and convinced him. I heard this because I was listening in, but Arcade had pulled me aside to talk.
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"Is he as stupid as he seems?" The doctor whispered, but I didn’t expect Fantastic to hear him while he was dealing with Lucia. The man had a very one-track mind.
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"He’s more stupid." I added, mostly to gauge his interest in me, "I haven’t slept with him, in case you’re wondering."
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* * *
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"I wasn’t." I was, but I found I often wondered that when it came to Max. I tried not to think about how often it might be true. I changed the subject. "Are you just on edge because of the NCR soldiers everywhere?"
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He bobbled his head noncommittally. "It’s partly that. It’s a lot of things, let’s just get this plant working and get out of here."
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Lucia came back over to us with Fantastic trailing behind her. "Max, you think you can figure this place out?"
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Max crossed his arms and nodded a little evasively. "Yeah."
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She gestured towards the room around us and Fantastic protested, "What? He can’t figure this out, he’s just good with chems. Besides, I said the main controls—"
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Max cut him off, "The main controls aren’t here, they’re in a separate building and it’s got a system of turrets and probably some other robotic security so getting there might be tricky."
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"Can’t you hack those?"
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"I need a terminal to hack those and I’m not sure where one might be; these aren’t connected to the mainframe, unless that’s been fixed."
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Lucia had been frowning since he first interrupted. "Were you listening in?"
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"No," he replied, probably lying. He wanted to leave it at that, but the three of us and Ignacio, a Follower I’d never met but knew was working here, stared at him until he admitted, "I’ve just been here before."
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Lucia frowned. "You’ve been here before." She sounded skeptical, I think.
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