Six let out a surprised scream as the tip of a baseball bat made contact with his left cheek, causing him to spin full 360 before collapsing to his knees.

"Ain't your day, kid."

Six glared up over his shoulder, growling. Freeside thugs were usually no problem, an easy kill, sitting ducks, if you're into hunting. But today there were just so many of them. It seemed as if every damn chem addict in the city had come together under the common cause of pissing Six off to a new level.

"Don't call me kid." The courier commanded simply. The thug grinned, the weakness in his victim's voice pleasing him greatly. He brought the bat up and over his opposite shoulder, ready bash Six's head in.

"Like I said kid, it just ain't y-"

The bat was blocked mid swing by Six's forearm. He ignored the pain that shot through his arm and lunged forward, his knuckles connecting with the thugs face and probably into the chemical soaked brains behind it. The larger man stumbled backwards and tripped over a crack in the half-destroyed road, leaving him on his back.

"Whose day ain't it?" Six demanded, standing. He snatched the bloody baseball bat off the pavement and brought it up, his teeth bared in absolute fury. With swift movements he brought the wooden bat down on the disoriented man's face, almost certainly fracturing all the facial bones. The dirt and drug ridden man and screamed incoherently and squirmed as the wood met his face repeatedly, each time it coming back with more blood. He stopped moving after only a few seconds, but Six continued on for what seemed like hours, letting his rage out in dangerous waves as he ranted and swore.

He stopped dead when he felt a hand on his shoulder, as if it had hit his off switch.

"I think you proved your point."

Six lowered his head and swallowed, not turning. He let the bat slip from his fingers as he observed the damage he had caused.

The once thugs face looked like a beaten hunk of brahmin meat, his features now only replaced by blood and gashes.

"I-I think you're right."

Arcade tightened his grip on the younger man's shoulder, trying his best to be reassuring. He stepped up beside him, averting his eyes away from the beaten body.

"Are you going to be alright, Six?"

Six offered nothing but a blank stare, his icy blue eyes hollow.

"Six? Its ok-"

"I did what I needed to do. I don't fucking need you to tell me its fucking okay!"

The thin brunette turned swiftly, bumping shoulders with Arcade. The blonde doctor remained limp, allowing himself to be practically shoved out of the way. He kept silence, letting it hang as he trailed solemnly behind Six towards the New Vegas gates.

XxXxXxX

Boone walked quickly from the bathroom into the main room of the presidential suite. He stopped and turned curiously towards the elevator, its two hundred year old mechanics creaking with age as the elevator came up to the designated floor. He faced it and waited, expecting to watch Six come striding out like he owned the place (which in some respects he did) with some new piece of salvage or just plain junk in his hands.

Instead, the courier came practically bursting through the elevator doors, his face black and blue along with an eye that had totally swollen shut. He brushed past Boone before the sniper could even part his lips and shut himself up in the bathroom, the force from the slamming door rattling the walls.

"Something happen?" Boone asked, eyebrow raised. Arcade stepped out from the elevator himself and met the other man's eyes, his own hinted with sorrow.

"Something did happen. I'm not sure exactly what, but something did."

Boone nodded once and peered towards the still shut bathroom door.

"You can bore me with the details later. I'm assuming you can handle it?"

Arcade nodded a few times slowly and smiled.

"Assuming makes an ass out of you and me."

"Clever."

Boone gestured towards the door before walking past Arcade and into the kitchen. Arcade listened briefly to the soft murmur of reassuring conversation between the younger man and Veronica before turning to the bathroom. He pressed his ear to the thin wood and knocked sharply three times.

"Six? You fall in kid?"

No giggles, no laughs, not even an amused grunt. Only the small courier's deadpan response.

"Come in….. I guess."

Arcade slowly opened the door as if he were checking his corners for enemy soldiers. Instead he thankfully found Six on the far side of the room, leaning heavily over the sink. He was simply staring into the basin, only occasionally sniffing. Arcade walked up beside him and waited.

"Yeah?" Six finally asked, looking up. Arcade winced slightly at the sight of his swollen and cut face. He managed a weak smile and grabbed a wash-cloth from the rack nearby.

"Let me help you out, eh? I don't trust you taking care of yourself."

Six only nodded, his good eye wide and watery. Arcade wet the cloth with cold water and gently pressed it to the younger man's other eye, causing him to flinch and grip the doctor's wrist.

"Careful, that fucking hurts man."

"I'm being careful, you big baby."

Six relaxed his grip, letting his arm fall down by his side. He winced and brought his other hand up, revealing how swollen it was.

"I think I broke something….. Again."

Arcade nodded and sighed.

"I suspected that. So, any particular reason you freaked out back there? Or is it just another one of those days?"

Six sighed heavily, his flat chest raising and falling. He lowered his head as much as he could without pressing his black eye more into Arcade's hand.

"It's just….. Fuck, I don't fucking know!"

"Use your words now, you can do it!"

Six growled, picking up on Arcade's heavy sarcasm. The blonde doctor smiled, but ended the teasing.

"Come on; just say what comes to mind. Do I look like the type to judge?"

Six raised an eyebrow, causing dull pain to flow through his face. He sighed again.

"It's just…. I try to be a good person Arcy, I really do. But… Sometimes I worry I just cant. What makes me any better than that damn thug?" He shook his head as Arcade took the cloth away and began to wet it again "I mean, I've killed. Hell, I've killed more than anyone. In cold blood, in self-defense, in every way! I've… Become what a mother wouldn't want in a son."

Arcade gently pressed the cloth back, hoping it was helping sooth the pain a little. He nodded understandingly and met Six's eyes, his own bright and inviting as usual.

"You have killed a decent amount; I won't deny that in any way. But, there've been many good deeds along the way as well."

"Yeah, like what?"

"Well, you helped Ringo in Goodsprings. You also helped Boone find out who sold his wife; you didn't have to do that. And then there's how much you've assisted the Followers, all of the NCR, the-"

"I get it Arcy, I've helped some people. But a murder who does good deeds is still a murderer. I'm still no better than some wasteland junkie. I got the drinking down pat. I'm sure chems aren't far behind….."

Arcade laughed, cutting off Six's words sharply. The courier tilted his head and narrowed his good eye.

"What? This shit isn't funny."

"Oh, it is."

"I'm missing the punch line."

Arcade stepped back, observing the sorry scene of Six leaning on the sink miserably. He chuckled again as he took a stimpack out of his coat pocket. He gently gripped the seventeen year olds wrist and brought his hand up. To tired and depressed to object the needle, Six only mumbled as Arcade injected the medicine, causing the swelling to go down drastically. The blonde finished and tossed the empty dispenser into a wastebasket. He took in a deep breath.

"You know what makes you different from all those mindless junkies out there?"

"Huh?"

Arcade stuck out his index finger and poked Six in the chest, right where his heart is.

"You feel remorse. You feel emotion. You know right from wrong. You would risk your own life for a stranger if you had too, and don't say you wouldn't."

Six swallowed, looking down at the hard wood floor. His breath hitched as tears began to slowly cascade down his cheeks. Finally desperate for comfort, he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against Arcade's shoulder. The doctor patted him gently on the back.

"You're tired, in pain, and fairly pissed. You just need to take a nap. And when you wake up, try to look at things differently. Preferably a happier kind of differently."

Six nodded silently, still leaning on Arcade.

"Yeah, I guess you're right."

"Oh, I am right, you dare doubt me?"

Six finally laughed. It was more of a small grunt than a laugh, but it was progress.