I didn't care. It was a sudden realization, one I made as I took the last drag off of my cigarette. The world might care. But I sure as hell didn't. What had the fucking world done for me anyways? The universe sure as fuck hadn't done me any favors.
I had been stripped of everything. My wife, our child, all my hopes, all my fucking dreams, gone. And after the world was done crashing around me, it gave me Arcade.
I looked at the sleeping man next to me. Tall, too thin, finally quiet. Maybe the world had done me one favor. A favor that came disguised as a test.
I didn't like him as soon as Amaya introduced us. He never shut up, loved to hear the sound of his own voice. But here she was, presenting him to me like I had asked for him. It didn't matter that I didn't want him around me, didn't matter at all. She just looked at me with that goofy grin of hers and said "This is Arcade."
I fucking hated that guy. He couldn't shoot for shit, couldn't hit the broadside of a brahmin from two inches away. And he never shut up. Talking about books and people and opinions and anything. Everything. His voice grated on nerves I didn't even have. Even being with Amaya, away from him, it echoed in my mind.
"Take him with you." I growled, but she shook her head, that stupid smile on her face.
"You need him." She said cryptically, Benny's blood still warm on her hands.
So that was that. I had a shadow. An incompetent shadow that refused to stop talking. Then all at once, he did. It took me five minutes to notice the silence. I turned around and was alone. I groaned. Loud mouth doctors didn't just disappear into the South Vegas Ruins air. I looked around for a while before I started to worry. It had already been twenty-five minutes.
Where the fuck did he go? A scream answered my question for me. I must have run, because I got there fast. On the ground a man rolled around in agony, burnt but not beyond recognition. Not Arcade. I put a bullet in his head. The fiends noticed me then. They charged at me with fucking pool cues, like they thought it would help them.
I moved further into the ruins and saw him. The psychopath with the flamer. He grinned at me. He was still smiling when the bullet tore through his skull.
Arcade was further back in the ruins. He looked like shit. His lip was busted, his glasses were gone. His cheek was split open. He was bound and he was silent. For some reason that made me sick.
"Gannon!" I hissed.
He lifted his head. "Boone?"
I untied him. He was shaking. I hauled him to his feet. He wouldn't stop shaking.
"I want to go home." He whispered. I dragged him all the way back to the Lucky 38. I took him into the bathroom and cleaned him up. He still looked like shit. Then I threw him on the bed. He didn't say a word. Just lay there on the bed, shaking. I couldn't take it. I sat on the edge of the bed and put my hand on his arm to steady him. To my horror he started to cry.
"I was going to die." He gasped. "He was going to burn me alive."
"Nope." I said.
"Yes. He was. He told me so." He argued.
"I wouldn't have let it happen." I told him. "I didn't let it happen."
He started to cry all over again and I cringed. I lay down next to him and he clung to me. But he finally fucking shut up.
Then a few weeks later, I kissed him. Right when I needed him to say something, he decided to be silent. I left. The universe laughed at me the whole time.
A few days later, I came back and he kissed me. And when my chest ached, I could only picture Amayas stupid ass smile. Couldn't bring myself to care though. All that mattered was him.
And so it'd been since that day. It didn't matter what anyone thought. Didn't matter who laughed or who was a fuckin bigot. I loved him. The world could kiss my ass. I didn't care. He loved me.