Arcade and Doc Mitchell were still working with a quiet, desperate haste when Boone and James finally withdrew from the house. They clearly could do nothing to help, and were both somewhat relieved to make an escape. They stood shoulder to shoulder for a moment at the top of the little hill, listening to the mournful bay of a coyote somewhere to the east.

"What we did- -"

"Don't. We can't punish ourselves over this." James shook his head. "We did something we thought we needed to do to protect her. There's nothing wrong with that."

Boone frowned. "Cass told me Benny's 'reasons' for shooting her. Pretty much the same thing."

James stiffened but said nothing. At length they wandered down the hill and toward the saloon, the one place in town with any sign of life. For lack of anywhere else to go, they stepped inside.

The few patrons quieted at their entrance, but seemed welcoming enough as Trudy waved them on in. "Boone! Haven't seen you in a gecko's age. Come on, have a seat. What can I get you?"

Boone waved a no thanks as he slid into one of the booths. James sat opposite him and smiled politely at Trudy, but also declined to order.

"Suit yourselves. Did y'all come into town with that Arcade fella? And a Nightkin?"

She didn't sound as surprised at the latter as James might have expected; but, he reminded himself, Honor had trailed around the DC wasteland with a super mutant in tow. The fact that she preferred to keep company with some of the more "altered" humans in the world apparently hadn't changed with her loss of memory. He supposed people came to expect her to have some mutant or monster or other trailing after her. Lord only knew what they'd thought about Charon in some of those more civilized places like Rivet City, let alone the one she called "Fawkes."

But he had raised Honor to be open minded, not to make snap judgments about people.

Had he himself instilled in his little girl the very trait that made her give Benny a second chance he didn't deserve, a trait that led her into that man's arms, into his bed? He stilled his thoughts. They were useless. He concentrated instead on listening to Boone explain, in his own terse way, why they were there. Trudy backed off immediately, giving Boone a pat on the arm and assuring them that if they needed anything, she'd do all she could, and then she left them to collect themselves and rest.

From the look on Boone's face, though, their respite would not be as peaceful as she thought. Their shared guilt would see to that.

~#~

Hours later Arcade dragged himself into the saloon to find them. Trudy had stayed the whole night, unwilling to leave them, and Arcade found them still at their table, still sober, and still mulling dark thoughts.

He sank down at the adjacent table, exchanging weary nods with them. He accepted Trudy's offer of a drink; she placed it on the table in front of him and he stared at it, unsure of what it even was.

Boone turned his head slightly to speak over his shoulder to Arcade. "Benny?"

"Resting," Arcade replied, his voice cracking with fatigue. "We got the major exposed areas covered and the worst lacerations stitched closed. Doc's sent Sunny to Primm to see if they have more stimpaks, and may send someone to Novac if they don't have enough." He yawned and rubbed at his face. "I keep thinking, I hope I never see anything like it again, and it seems so selfish- - he's enduring it. Again. It's- -" He stopped himself and hunched over his drink. "It's just horrific. All around."

"Man's inhumanity to man," James quoted.

"Fuck that," Arcade said bluntly. "Legion aren't men. They've surrendered the right to be called men. They're- - worse than animals. At least animals don't understand the consequences of their actions." He turned his chair to better face them. "You know what's really pitiful? Every time he has a lucid moment, he starts off thinking he's right back in that camp. Even when he's out of his senses, he can't get away from them." He took a drink of whatever Trudy had put in front of him. It was strong. He finished it in a second gulp. "He kept telling us that he wouldn't give her up. Honor. Kept mouthing her name like a goddamned prayer. And I don't even know where she is to bring her to him." He clenched the empty glass tighter. "I promised her I'd keep him safe."

"This isn't your fault."

"You couldn't possibly- -"

Arcade turned his back on them. "Goddamned Mojave. Goddamned human race. Still trying to recover from a fucking pointless war and we're still turning on each other like savages."

A moment of uncomfortable silence passed. "So...you're convinced now that he loves her?" Boone asked.

Arcade snorted into the fresh drink Trudy brought him. "Aren't you?"

"No," Boone replied flatly, and a bit too quickly.

"What on earth would it take to convince you?"

"Nothing. There's nothing that could convince me. It's impossible."

"Why?"

"Because it just is!" Boone stood abruptly and rounded to face the other two men. "It can't be true. Or else what we did- - what I did... ." He stared at Arcade as he trailed off, and to Arcade, he looked wild.

"What you did?" Arcade set his glass down with deliberation. "What do you mean?" Boone shot a glance at James. "What did you do? Boone- - what did the two of you do?"

Boone closed his eyes. "I used an old NCR contact. To get Benny out of the Mojave."

Arcade just sat for a moment as the confession sank in. "So many questions," he said at last, pushing the rest of his drink away. "I suppose the most obvious is, 'Why?', but I think I know why. So I suppose the next one would be, how did you ever think that dealing with the Legion could be a good idea?"

"I didn't deal with the Legion!" Boone slammed his hands onto the table in front of Arcade, but Arcade didn't flinch. "I dealt with that contact. It was supposed to be mercs out of NCR territory. Not Legion."

"Justify it however you want," Arcade replied calmly, "the outcome's the same." He rose.

"You cannot tell Honor," James began, but Arcade dismissed him with a wave. He started to move but Boone stepped in front of him.

"He's right. If Honor's going to have any chance at all to reconnect with her father- -"

Arcade shook his head. "I don't know what I'm going to tell her. I just know I can't look at the two of you right now."

"We were trying to protect her," Boone said.

"By breaking her heart. Yeah. I get it. How could you ever have thought this would end well?"

Boone clenched his jaw. "I trusted my contact more than I trusted Benny."

"You trusted the Legion more than you trusted Honor."

"That is not true- - I told you, I didn't deal with the Legion." He balled his hands into fists. "And if you were a stranger I'd blow your head off for saying it."

"Because the Legion cost you your wife."

"That's right. It's reason enough."

"It's brahmin shit. You killed your wife, not the Legion. You could have tried to rescue her. Hell, you could have tried to buy her, but it was easier to pull the trigger, wasn't it?"

Boone gritted his teeth and stepped forward until they were nose to nose. "You have no idea what you're fucking with."

"Yeah, I think I do. You think Honor would have taken that shot? Not just for Benny. For any one of us. You think Cass or Veronica would have? Any of them would have saved any one of us or died trying. Honor has shed blood for all of us, and you know it. And that's the woman you've backstabbed." He turned his back on Boone and left the saloon without another word.

Once outside, he took a shaking breath and tried to steady himself. He was astounded at his own outburst; knowing it had been prompted by distress and sleep deprivation neither relieved his conscience nor excused his behavior. But he was far too angry and disappointed at the moment to go back in and apologize. He began walking, though at a loss for what to do with himself. Sunny had already taken off for Primm, and he was too exhausted to make the run to Novac. He supposed he should just give in for the moment and try to get some rest. Doc Mitchell had offered him the spare bed in his clinic, so he trudged back up the hill.

Lily was stretched out in the floor of the living area, snoring. Mitchell had also retired for the night but left the clinic room lit by a single dim lantern. Arcade picked it up and crossed to where Benny lay on the stretcher to check on him once more before bed.

To his surprise, Benny was awake and lifted a splinted right hand an inch or two off the blanket in greeting. "Hey," he whispered, his voice crackling.

Arcade leaned over him and allowed himself a cautious smile. "Back in the land of the living?"

Benny had to gather himself to answer, but Arcade was patient. "Guess so. Th'others get out?"

"Everybody's safe. In fact, you're the only casualty."

He gave a tiny nod.

"This is going to seem like a stupid question, but how do you feel? I know you're in incredible pain, but do you feel aware? Do you know where you are?"

"Goodsprings." Benny turned his head a little to the left to look around with the eye that wasn't swollen shut. "Right where I put Honor. That's...platinum."

"It may be poetic, but I think we all could have done without it." He felt Benny's pulse; it jumped as he curled his fingers around Benny's wrist, but outwardly he gave no sign. "Does this hurt? Your wrists are broken, I was trying to be careful- -"

"'S'okay. Not bad."

"Ah huh." Arcade released his wrist as gently as he'd taken it. "Think you can sleep?"

"Gonna try." Benny paused a moment. "It does hurt."

"Good god, I know that's an understatement. I wish we could give you something more, but you'll have to wait until Sunny gets back with supplies. I'm sorry. I wish there were more I could do."

Benny actually tried to grin and shrug it off, and Arcade felt all the worse for being helpless. "'S'all right. It's a lot better." His eye drooped closed and Arcade went to bed himself. He slept, but his dreams were restless, filled as they were with blood and betrayal.