[arcade, the courier]
No.
The Fiend's smile was cruel as he stood over the broken, lifeless body. Isaac didn't know his name. He didn't want to. It didn't matter. "What's it to you, anyway?"
The silence lasted one, two, three seconds; the crazed man took a step forward and growled. "Talkin' to you! You listenin'? You wanna die?" Arcade noted the way the courier's hand twitched, the grip on his revolver tightening. Got a feeling this won't end well.
Isaac couldn't see the woman's face. But her hair - her hair was the same color, the same length, that his mother's had been. And she was - had been - young, with her whole life ahead of her. Maybe with a family.
Maybe with a son.
But this... this pathetic sack of shit had killed her, without remorse, had stolen her future and had taken her away from anyone that might've missed her. Isaac tried to steady his ragged breaths, his pounding heart. He didn't know her name. He didn't want to.
It didn't matter.
"Isaac?" Arcade's whisper sounded too loud even to him, his heartbeat speeding up in the tense silence... when suddenly, the courier made his move.
His revolver was firing between one breath and the next; he emptied an entire clip into the junkie's face as quickly as he could pull the trigger. Arcade didn't even have time to level his own weapon - the Fiend certainly didn't, either. The smell of gunpowder and lead hung heavy in the air with six rounds emptied into his skull - but Isaac didn't stop. As the body fell to the floor, he lunged forward to straddle the corpse, and swung his weapon down onto the mess of a head, over and over, his attacks getting heavier with each blow, covering him in gore-
"Isaac, stop - snap out of it! Isaac!"
Strong arms pulled him back from the body; he struggled for a moment, but quickly ceased. He blinked a few times, dazed, before his shoulders slumped; Arcade let him go, and he sat cross-legged on the ground, silent and unmoving.
The Follower gingerly took a seat beside him. "You okay?" he asked quietly.
He didn't meet his companion's eyes, too caught up in memories and regret. "...No. But I will be."
Why'd I let myself lose it so bad? He was disquieted - as violent as their lives had been, he'd never fallen into any kind of madness like that before. Maybe it was just the stress of the last few months. Maybe it was the tension of the looming war at the Dam. He didn't know. He didn't want to.
It didn't matter.