Chapter 33
Doctor & Courier
It took an immense amount of energy to remove the captive doctor from the scene before the arrival of the NCR.
With great difficulty and feeling every muscle ache, every thought racing and every breath thinner than the last—Sandra distanced herself from the old jail as much as humanly possible, carrying the mostly unconscious Arcade on her back the entire way. He was a little bigger and a head taller, totally limp and heavily medicated—but nevertheless, she carried on, lumbering up the desert hillside beneath the late night sky, and she didn't stop until she began to vanish behind a collection of trees, reaching the top of the nearest hill before she finally fully collapsed.
Sandra crumbled to the ground, landing harshly on a small rock and quickly maneuvering away from it. She ended up on her back, Arcade resting lopsidedly on top of her, hands still bound and mouth still gagged. She lay still for several long minutes, an arm draped around him as she recuperated in silence, catching her breath as her lightheadedness slowly began to fade off.
Rushed and shocked to the core—she didn't move for a while, merely staring up at the night sky from between the many crooked branches overhead, her mind filled with rampant thoughts.
It didn't matter that she killed some nameless rangers, and it didn't matter what their leader told her—the biggest problem now was what this event meant for their future.
If Arcade had an NCR bounty on his head, then it would cause a countless string of problems for them later on. More people would be showing up at random, arriving to try and take him away from her again, and she couldn't know how she could possibly prevent such a thing. The NCR gave pardons, but would they consider giving one to an Enclave remnant…?
"Enclave," Sandra breathed, blowing loose crimson strands of hair from her face, her hand crawling up the side of Arcade and her fingers curling tightly around him.
She felt him, his warmth encompassing her, the steady rhythm of his heart thumping in a soft, light beat against her. Here he lie, this peaceful and compassionate man, someone she loved like family—and yet, he'd apparently been keeping a deep, dangerous secret from her.
But as shocking as it was—this secret wasn't what surprised her most.
The thing that piqued her interest was simply her own reaction, how little she felt after learning the secret, and how everything about their friendship felt to be virtually unchanged as of now.
Her blind, searing anger toward the Enclave was entirely absent from her right now, as the rules of her personal vengeance evidently didn't apply to Arcade Gannon.
Time passed as she lay still, and dawn began to creep steadily closer. Eventually, she raised her head, squinting between the trees and gazing far down the hillsides. It seemed Dawson wasn't lying—as a truck convoy of NCR had arrived to the jail, and all of them fanned out to search the area after discovering the dead rangers inside. But, luckily, they didn't bother trekking all the way up the mountain—and after they scoured the grounds for nearly forty-five minutes, they all climbed into their truck again, and the NCR drove off.
The start of the sunrise was just beginning to brighten the dark blue sky—and then, she felt the slightest hint of movement on top of her, Arcade releasing a faint, tired groan.
Sandra—now entirely calm, lying with one arm propped behind her head, the other holding her rescued doctor—glanced down, releasing a sigh before reaching around him. Using her free hand, she fidgeted with the binds around his wrists until she felt them loosen, then peeled them off him and tossed them aside. She then reached around his head, removing the gag from him as well, and Arcade slowly began to blink himself awake, head resting on her collar, his glasses crooked and his gaze bleary and unfocused.
"Easy," Sandra said softly, gently patting him on the back. "You're fine."
Arcade blinked, his exhausted expression showing a glint of confusion. His eyes ventured around, gazing past Sandra's side as he remained lying against her shoulder, surveying the woods nearby and wondering how on earth he'd gotten here.
"How did…" Arcade exhaled, his hand attempting to crawl up the side of her arm, though he was still fairly depleted. "How did…?"
"Don't worry about it." Sandra slowly shifted him over, allowing him to lie on his back just beside her, his head now resting on her arm as he too gazed into the sky. "There we go…"
Arcade's head rolled over, his eyes narrowing questioningly at her.
Sandra noticed, but pretended she didn't, using her free arm to reach down and pull a pack of cigarettes from her side pouch. She flipped her messy bangs back in a smooth, cool way, then flicked her zippo and lit a cigarette, exhaling a smoke cloud above both their heads.
"Did you… kill them?" Arcade breathed.
"Yeah," Sandra uttered with an odd nonchalance, flicking ashes away. "Had to."
Arcade stared at her, waiting for her to continue, though she didn't seem eager to.
When she eventually turned her head, she read his expression, spotting various emotions painted across his visage, most notably a sense of surprise mixed with concern.
"I can't believe you…" he murmured, making a gentle shake of the head. "You… the NCR… you did that just for…?"
"Just for you," Sandra affirmed with a nod, taking another puff. "Yeah. Had to."
"You… might've… villainized yourself," Arcade uttered in astonishment. "For life…"
"We didn't plan on letting the NCR take over the Mojave anyhow," Sandra replied with a shrug. "The hell with 'em."
"Sandra," Arcade said seriously, giving her a deep, profound stare. "That is... very serious. That could completely ruin the rest of your—"
"Shut up."
Sandra's voice suddenly changed, lower and stronger, almost as if she was barking an order at a stranger rather than kindly regarding a friend. Arcade fell silent for a moment, eyeing her as if he'd never seen anything quite like her before.
Sandra inhaled another drag from her cigarette, flicking more ashes aside and exhaling smoke above her, the smoke dissipating as it arose toward the slowly brightening sky. She continued staring upward, not looking at him, appearing uncharacteristically distant and unreadable.
"You don't get to decide what's best for me," she stated flatly. "Whether it's what I do, or what I know."
Arcade gazed into her for several seconds, trying to understand her meaning and missing it entirely. He had no clue what she was getting at now.
"I don't know what you mean," he muttered at a loss.
"I mean…" Sandra mumbled in a slow, dark tone. "I'd like to think, after all this time… that you trust me enough to tell me things. Especially things that're important. Things that might end up screwing us later and getting a bounty put on your head."
Arcade fell silent again, slowly beginning to recall random moments of his abduction—namely what the ranger woman said to him just before carting him off, calling him out specifically for his Enclave background. It seemed the NCR had discovered all the loose connections between Arcade and the old Enclave, and despite he himself never being a soldier, those connections were apparently enough for them to put a bounty into play.
Then, a slow sinking sensation began to fester inside him, as he only just realized—this meant Sandra knew. She knew all about it now, and there was no hiding his Enclave background from her any longer.
But, as he continued to stare into her and read her oddly nonchalant disposition, his dread at this realization began to fade—as she didn't seem to be stricken with anger or vengeance in the slightest. No, she seemed calm, unexpectedly so. She was irritated that he kept a secret from her, but beyond that, she didn't seem perturbed by this information at all.
Did he really expect her to be driven to madness again after learning of his past? Yes, the courier struggled with some kind of trauma related to the Enclave—but that struggle had nothing to do with Arcade himself. Now, all the sudden, he felt a gnawing guilt begin to grow in the back of his mind, kicking himself for expecting such a thing from her.
No, she didn't plan to lash out at him because of his background. And the longer he stared at her, the more he felt as if he'd misjudged her completely in expecting her to.
"Sorry. I don't actually blame you," Sandra sighed, inhaling from her cigarette again. "I'm fucked in the head… and I wouldn't trust me, either."
"No, I… no… look," Arcade uttered, shaking his head and fighting to sit upright, just managing to prop himself up on his arm, facing her more properly. "I trust you… more than you know. You've no idea how hard it is to trust. Well, maybe you do, but… that… that's exactly why I didn't wanna lose you. If I told you I came from the Enclave, and you decided you didn't want me around anymore… I couldn't… stand that."
"Don't," Sandra uttered, shaking her head at the sky. "You don't need to explain. You don't owe me anything—"
"I owe you everything," Arcade told her firmly, his voice suddenly finding more strength.
Sandra turned her head, staring up at him and spotting the now determined look on his face.
"It's not that I didn't trust you to handle that information," Arcade assured her. "I know you can handle it—you handle more than anyone ever should—what I was worried about was losing you. I've had a lot of people disappear and a lot of people walk away from me, and you're the first person who never seemed to wander off—and I sure as hell didn't wanna give you a reason to."
"Arcade," Sandra murmured in a soft, wispy voice, her eyes an icy blue as they rested intently on him. "Did you think I was gonna hurt you?"
"No," Arcade said honestly. "No, I didn't—but I did think you were blinded enough by hatred to cast me out forever. And, call me crazy, but I didn't want that. I still don't."
The two of them paused, sharing an intense stare with one another.
"Do…" Arcade mumbled. "Do you…?"
Sandra scoffed and looked away, taking another puff of smoke. "I wouldn't have saved your ass if I did."
Arcade made a sideways nod. "Well, fair point…"
They both went quiet again, Sandra staring into the sky while Arcade's gaze remained on her.
"I am sorry," he said sincerely. "I'll tell you everything you wanna know, if…"
"I don't care," Sandra muttered. "It's fine, I don't… like I said, I don't blame you."
"You don't blame me for what?"
"For just… look, I… I know what I'm like," Sandra explained, gesturing with her cigarette as she spoke. "I know I'm a fucking head case, so I shouldn't expect you to treat me like I'm a regular person. I don't blame you for keeping it from me. I can't imagine how fucking insane I must look to you half the time… so, y'know… of course you don't wanna tell me something that's…"
"No… no, we need to trust each other a hundred percent from now on, everything else be damned," Arcade disclosed, swatting the air. "You're not a head case—you've just been through hell. And I am a doctor, Sandra. I can help you with that if you let me."
Then, Sandra paused, lying eerily still for a moment as she glared vacantly into the morning sky. Seconds after, her head slowly turned, her eyes narrowing intently at Arcade, who returned the look with a bound and determined sort of stare.
"I thought you weren't a people person," Sandra murmured.
"I'm a loyal person," Arcade told her sternly. "And I can credit myself with that if nothing else. Look, you…"
He paused, sighed, and adjusted himself beside her, sitting cross-legged on the dirt and turning to face her fully.
"You… are important. You're some kind of special," Arcade said, placing his hands together and motioning while he spoke. "And I don't mean in a daddy-loves-his-little-girl way. I mean… you're bound by circumstance, and you landed in an amazing position here in the Mojave—and you just happened to be the best person to do so. Because you are… recklessly, abrasively, and absolutely insanely loyal. I know that without a shadow of a doubt after what you pulled just now. You've done something, here… no, actually, two things… you've done two amazing things here that no one else in my life ever has. No one else would take such wild risks for me… and no one else would go through massively drastic measures to better the Mojave Wasteland. I've never met anyone willing to do either of those things, Sandra—but you are doing both. And that… regardless of whatever you think of yourself, or whatever you've done, or whatever issues you might have… that, is, special. Really, undeniably, special. The real kind of special. That really makes me hold you in the highest possible regard… and with all of that in mind… do you really think I'd ever hesitate to help you?"
Sandra stared at him, lost for words and drawing a blank, feeling a sudden surge of emotion beginning to well up inside. So—she scoffed and turned her head, smirking and instantly breaking eye contact as she inhaled another puff of smoke.
"You give me too much credit," she snarked. "I'm just blundering through this crap, I don't…"
"Yeah, okay… I know you have to do that," Arcade sighed, leaning back on his hand and gazing into the trees across from them. "I know you have to shrug it all off and act like it's nothing. That's how you get through the day, I suppose. But it's definitely not nothing to me."
The two of them were quiet for a short while, the sunrise now brightening the world as the rays of light cast rays down toward them in crooked beams from between the branches, the wind gently shifting the leaves of the treetops overhead.
Sandra continued staring into the sky as if gazing into someone's eyes, her expression still as distant as ever. She snuffed out her cigarette in the dirt beside her, still lying on her back and outstretching her arm behind her head, releasing a heavy cloud of breath.
"I don't want…"
She trailed off, Arcade turning his head and eyeing her, waiting for her to speak on.
"I don't wanna put that on you," Sandra said softly to the treetops, frowning and still avoiding the doctor's gaze. "It's kinda pathetic if I'm assigning you to be my own personal therapist…"
"Really?" Arcade gave her an incredulous look, squinting at her and cocking his head. "Sandra… really? You just… you just slaughtered a unit of rangers and possibly ruined the rest of your own damn life for my sake."
"So?"
"So? You can do all that, perform all that insanity just to help me—but me being a listening ear for you isn't okay?!"
"No, I jus…"
"You just hold yourself to an impossible standard. You wanna help everyone else, but you never wanna need the help yourself. Where does that come from? You're always like that. And that needs to change."
"Arcade," Sandra said, her voice suddenly rising again. "The last time someone decided to help me—they fucking died for me."
A tense silence followed her words, Sandra glaring at the sky as Arcade somberly observed her.
Then, a thought sparked into the doctor's mind—and reading her visage now, he instantly knew for certain that she was remembering things she usually couldn't. Perhaps he could get a read on her if he learned whatever he could about her past during this brief opportunity.
"Tell me more," Arcade requested.
Sandra fumed at the clouds, hand coiling into a fist atop the dirt at her side.
A headache slowly began to form as the images flashed through her mind, though the feelings—everything she felt all night long, the fear and panic as well as the anger during Arcade's rescue—it seemed to mirror the way she felt five years ago, which made the memory formulate in a clearer, smoother way.
Yes, she remembered storming the memorial during the Enclave's attack, navigating through the tunnels with her companions at the time—she remembered her father, James, standing beyond the glass and flooding the inside with radiation, killing the Enclave leader and sacrificing himself in the process. She recalled the sheer hatred merged with a sick, twisted euphoria in the moments after her departure—when she fought her way out, killed them all, slaughtered the Enclave in great bursts of rage as she and her group forced their way back to the Citadel—and at the end of it all, those hands clasped onto her, big red hands with dark flaky skin, warm to the touch and stronger than ever. He shook her once—ripped her out of the daze—snapped her back to reality, and Sandra found herself standing before Charon once more, gazing into his determined milky eyes and suddenly understanding that she'd have to force herself calm in the wake of it all.
And it wasn't long after when the final battle occurred—when Fawkes, Thrash, Mr. Burke, Bryan, and Sarah were swarming over the scene of the war alongside her. And it was after all this—after obliterating the Enclave with her nukes and losing herself to the white hot rage entirely—when Charon returned to her side, pulling her away from the rad-filled chamber and stepping inside it himself instead. He was a ghoul, immune to the radiation. He should've been fine. She knew it would be okay… except, the explosion… the unexpected blast that smashed him to the walls and snapped his neck in an instant… she wouldn't have let him if she knew…
"It's a long story," Sandra uttered, her tone giving a slight shake. "Back east, it… it's different from here. The water wasn't… okay… like it is here. All the water everywhere was irradiated, and my dad had Project Purity going to fix it. And it actually worked. But… the Enclave wanted the place, and they attacked us. My dad died there. And later, my friend Charon… died there, too…"
Arcade said nothing, his expression hardening, growing more perturbed with every word she spoke. He propped his arm on his leg, his hand balling into a fist as he waited for her to continue.
"The chamber… with the controls… was full of radiation," Sandra mumbled, her voice weakening. "He was a ghoul, so… we figured everything would be fine if he… went in there and shut it off. But the fucking thing exploded… and killed him…"
Arcade's teeth began to grind as he listened.
"My dad… was the one who flooded the chamber," Sandra said with a shaky sigh. "He killed the Enclave leaders so I could get away… and it killed him in the process, too. My dad saved me, and it killed him. Charon saved me, and it killed him. If anyone helps me… if anyone saves me… they're jus… they're just… gonna die…!"
Something inside her began to fracture, and she pressed a fist to her mouth, feeling hot tears begin to form and sealing her eyes shut, suddenly hating herself for shedding tears in front of her friend.
"I know… I know it's stupid," Sandra growled at the treetops, gritting her teeth and shaking her head, dropping her fist by her side. "I know it's stupid and I know it doesn't make any sense… but it just feels that way… so much… all the time. It feels like anyone who helps me is just gonna die… because that's… that's what kept happening before…"
Sandra inhaled several trembling breaths, forcing down everything she felt best she could, still glaring intently into the sky rather than her friend. For a moment, neither of them spoke. Arcade merely sat beside her, wearing a troubled visage and releasing a long, disturbed exhalation, trying to think, wondering how he could possibly ease the steep, traumatized troubles that so heavily weighed on her mind.
Then, another light powered on in his mind—and he slowly reached over, gingerly grasping her hand and tightening his around hers.
Arcade leaned a little closer, his expression softening as he revealed a slight half-smile.
"Vulpes," he said.
Sandra blinked, turning and finally meeting his gaze again, her watery eyes narrowing questioningly at him.
"Vulpes," she breathed. "What… about him…?"
"He kept you alive for weeks and weeks on end, didn't he?" Arcade reminded her. "After you met in Denver, he helped you as much as you helped him. You kept each other alive until you both got to the Mojave."
Sandra continued staring at him, still lost.
Arcade's smirk seemed to grow.
"And, point of interest… he also dragged me out to the middle of nowhere just to take care of that old Enclave bounty for you," Arcade added. "He knows you've got some history with the Enclave, and he wanted to keep them away from you."
Sandra still didn't speak.
"And, another point of interest… the only, and I mean only, reason I ever agreed to keep him around… is because of what he pulled during that final showdown in Gomorrah," Arcade carried on. "Because he showed up right at the last second, right in the nick of time… and he just managed to save your life right there. Even half-dead and beaten all to hell, he fought his way there and saved your life."
Sandra gazed into him in bewilderment, unsure of his point in all this.
"So…?" she murmured.
"So…Vulpes has helped you. And Vulpes has saved you," Arcade disclosed. "And, to the best of my knowledge… as many times as he's done this, he's never once died for doing it, now has he?"
Sandra slowly turned her head, staring into the sky again as his words sank into her.
"The reason your friend and your father died back then… was because of the Enclave interfering with your life," Arcade said with a disdainful sigh. "That's it. That's the only reason. It's not because some karmatic force wants to punish everyone who ever helps you. And, as unbelievable as I find it… Vulpes Inculta is living proof of that."
"Yeah," Sandra muttered. "And so are you…"
Arcade blinked. "Am I?"
"Yeah." Sandra met his eyes again, now managing a smirk as well. "You don't remember how we met? You helped me that night. I was wasted and lost in Freeside, and I think I almost got jumped or something…"
"Oh," Arcade exhaled, massaging his eyes beneath his glasses. "And I carried you off to the Mormon Fort. God, that feels like it was years ago…"
"We've been through a lot since then," Sandra shrugged. "And we have a hellova lot more ahead of us, too."
Arcade surveyed her, squeezing her hand once before releasing it.
Sandra sighed and pushed herself upright, sitting up beside him and leveling her eyes with his.
"Starting… with a pardon," she said.
Arcade gave her an odd squint. "A pardon…?"
"Yeah. You used to work for the NCR… and I've done some odd jobs for them, too," Sandra informed. "Not to mention I'm the heir to Mr. House. I could have the whole damn embassy removed from New Vegas if I wanted to. They have every reason to listen to me… and no reason not to pardon you. If you got a pardon, then nobody in the NCR would be able to put bounties on your head anymore, and whatever current bounties you have would be rendered null and void."
"What… what about you?" Arcade uttered. "You really think you can just waltz into the embassy and start making demands after you killed a bunch of their rangers?"
"Nobody knows I did that," Sandra replied simply. "When that convoy showed up down there, all they saw were the bodies. Nobody saw me. Besides—I'm a power player now. I'm one of the Vegas top dogs, and I'm the one who controls all the securitrons and security. They'd be stupid not to take me seriously. Besides, we have to go up there anyway. I have to make Sellers's delivery to Westside."
"Right…" Arcade hesitated, giving her a look of concern. "But if you walk in there alone… the NCR might see that as an opportunity to seize Vegas right then and there. If they decide to throw you in jail for harboring a fugitive, then they'd see that as a way of liberating all of Mr. House's assets from you. That means the 38, the securitrons… everything."
Sandra's mouth unraveled into a sly, caustic smirk. "They're not gonna throw me in jail. I'd like to see 'em try."
"Sandra," Arcade uttered with a dry little laugh. "I know you're a terrifying force of nature, but they are still an army. I think they might have the upper hand on you if they outnumber you five-hundred to one."
"Then Niner and Scar are gonna come with me," Sandra replied with a shrug. "And I'll take a couple securitrons as extra insurance. You have a bounty on your head, and Foxxy is ex-Legion, so I can't take either one of you guys in there—but they're not the only ones with an army. Me and the NCR both have armies at our disposal, only my soldiers can't even die. So who's got the upper hand now?"
Arcade opened his mouth to respond, then chuckled and shook his head. "You're insane…"
"Yeah, you love it. Come on." Sandra reached her feet, turning and extending her hand. "Let's go stick it to the man."
She pulled the doctor upright, and Arcade stood before her, the wind gently shifting past them as they gazed deeply into one another.
"Thank you," he said sincerely, giving her a smile. "Honestly… really… thank you."
"Oh god, shut up… come on," Sandra replied with a laugh, starting down the hill and waving for him to follow. "We have a long-ass drive up north, and I'm freakin' starving. Let's gooo…!"
Arcade snickered and pocketed his hands, releasing a cloud of breath before marching after her and briskly following suit.