By the time they reached the ancient wooden gates of the Old Mormon Fort, the Courier could barely trudge more than three streps before clenching his buttocks to keep the stitches from ripping apart again. Usanagi needs to recalibrate her goddamn Auto-doc if she keeps using it so much. That rickety old torture chamber needs a tune up! High-class surgery my ass—it's going to tear open again!

It didn't help that the sweat that came with the searing Mojave heat made it feel like he either shat his pants or sat on something really, really wet. Having to muscle through the desert for hours in underwear made sticky by bodily fluids was one of the most discomforting quirks of trekking. That and he had to put up with Pancake's constant eye-spy games because Sparta and Knight-boy were being damn awkward again while Shaolin was on Syrup duty (keeping that tightly-leashed infant deathclaw from clomping down on anything that moved within five feet of them).

"Welcome back," greeted a tired Doctor Julie Farkas, licensed medical physician and regional director for the Followers Of The Apocalypse. Despite her visible exhaustion, she mustered enough energy to give him the standard once-over. "Are you alright?"

Sparta shot me in the ass and that rickety-ass Auto-doc of yours sort of fucked it up. "Nothing serious," Six replied, waving her off. "Just need some extra painkillers."

"Are you injured?" she pressed.

"Oh, he's just cranky, doc," Nora mirthfully dismissed with a wave. "Pyrrha accidentally shot him while training."

"It was an accident," the redhead muttered with her head bowed.

Julie blinked. Then nodded. "Oh, I see. Well, I'm sure your father wouldn't hold that against you forever."

Oh for fuck's sake, not you too! The Courier groaned, leaning against the empty supply crates piled around the flagpole in the middle of the yard. Having something to sit on relieved a bit of the pain.

"Julie, I'm not their..." Ah, fuck it. "Look, just...please, just go check if you got any painkillers. Morphine, dipyrone, Med-X, anything."

"Well, we don't have much left in reserve at the moment but I'll go check. Where exactly does it hurt?"

"His butt," Jaune replied tiredly. He yawned, missing Six's paralyzing glare. "Doc, can I get something for me, too?"

Julie rounded him. "Are you injured?"

"I was bitten," the blonde replied.

"Where and by what?"

"Um..."

Ren exhaled. "In the rear. It was a...night-stalker, was it?"

The mention of those mutated rattlesnake coyotes jolted Julie awake. She quickly leaned into his pupils. "No dilations, no discoloration... You're not feeling nauseous or dizzy, are you?"

"Oh, don't worry, doc!" Nora chirped. "We got rid of the poison."

"Are you sure?"

"Yep. Pyrrha sucked it out of him."

And that was when the atmosphere in their circle fell dead silent. Syrup let out a sound that came close to a snicker. Pancake just kept grinning while Sparta tried to melt behind her hair.

Julie cleared her throat. "Right. Uh, follow me please."

Huh. Nobody home. The Courier stifled that uneasy feeling in his gut on his way to the kitchen of the penthouse suite while team JNPR-S fell into their routine comforts. Nothing serious had happened with team RWBY (or courtesy of team RWBY) for the past week so he had no reason to worry about their absence from the Lucky Thirty-Eight when they returned. Victor said they went to help out at Vault Twenty-One. Of course, they did. Petty altruists.

Six sat back on a chair, popped in a mix of antibiotics and painkillers courtesy of the Followers then took a long swig from the whiskey bottle. And promptly spat out his drink. Son of a bitch! He raised the glass to his eyes, watching the clear fluid slosh inside. This was neither tequila nor vodka. It wasn't even alcohol. It had a lot of sugar, though, enough to make Hyper jump off the walls.

"Fucking...juice?"

"Doctor Farkas recommended you reduce your alcohol consumption," Shaolin remarked, firing up the stove.

Six let out a low growl. Damn it, Julie. He knew she meant well but there was a reason why he often ignored the advice of physicians when it came to his select poison. "What have I told you, kids? Never touch my liquor!"

Ren shrugged, instead focusing on mixing a bowl of eggs, butter, and flour. "We were only concerned for your well-being."

The Courier made to rebut when he heard Nora's voice boom across the dining hall. "This is an intervention, Six!"

Are you fucking kidding me? Pancake stood by the doorframe, radiating mischievous determination.

"We can't have our dad getting too drunk to take care of us," she continued, clearly savoring how far she was taking this stupid charade.

He glared at Knight-boy and Sparta twiddling their thumbs behind her. The former simply pointed at the ginger while mouthing, 'It was all her idea.' The latter shrugged and added, 'Sorry but you sort of need this, to be honest.'

I can't believe this shit. "This has got to be some kind of joke."

Nora shook her head. "Nope. We're going to fix you right up."

The Courier chuckled. With a twitch in his eye. "You can't take away my alcohol."

"We just did," Ren answered somberly.

Jaune let out a defeated sigh as his shoulders sagged. "She made us dump all your liquor in the sewer while you were talking to the cops down on the Strip."

Six didn't want to believe him. But even as his eyes bugged out of his sockets, even after he feverishly dug through his field pack, regardless of frantically running inventory on his Pip-Boy, he came to accept the painful truth that Pancake had indeed disposed of every single alcoholic beverage in his arsenal. Even his precious home-brewed wasteland-brand tequila squeezed from the plump tendrils of Nevada agave that he constantly kept in a special hands-off, hard-to-reach place had been thoroughly disposed of.

Fuck.

He yanked hard on the fridges, nearly ripping them apart with how hard he was gripping the handles. The corks on all the bottles had cracks in them while the seals below the caps were either broken or missing. Every single article of liquor had been replaced with whatever crap these kids came up with. He slowly glared at the ginger, somehow finding her grin disconcerting.

"Pancake... You... How...?" How did you sneak my stash out from under me!?

"You have an unhealthy addiction, dad," Nora outlined. It was bad enough selling the illusion to the public but to take his apparent 'paternity' this far was getting too damn ridiculous. "Alcohol is bad for your health."

"The alcohol was disinfectant. For injuries," he argued.

Knight-boy snickered. "Yeah. Usually, you drink it to dull the pain instead of pouring it over open wounds like you keep telling us to."

"You use clean water more than anything else as disinfectant," Ren added dryly.

The Courier turned to Sparta, expecting some meek snark or something. Instead, she simply ignored them all and kept staring at the ground. Probably a side effect of her prescription anti-venom. Or the awkwardness stemming from the embarrassment of the previous day.

"You kids don't know what you're doing," he countered.

"Hey, if the Followers can sober up drunks and druggies, then why can't we?" Nora flipped pulled up a clipboard to show him a physician's checklist. "Besides, we've got, uh, basic know-how. And if there's something we can't do... Well, there's no harm in trying."

Six felt his jaw go slack. You're fucking crazy.

Pancake joyously pumped her fist into the air. "Alright then! Let's get started on your rehab!"

Goddamn it. "You do know that I can kick you all out right now."

For once, Jaune simpered. The damn kid that kept getting the short end of the stick among the kids gave him a coy grin. "We dare you."

Why you ungrateful little shits... He stood to give him a piece of his mind when Pancake jumped him with her hybrid super-sledge. Finicky little monkey gripped tight onto his shoulders like a stubborn sloth.

"Don't move! This won't hurt if you don't fight back," she barked cheekily into his face.

If it wasn't for the meds he just took in, he might very well have. Then again, even if he did, he would most likely feel like absolute shit if he did. Strange. Maybe he should have eased up on the meds; he was being way too docile. I hate this...

As far as Ruby could recall, they had been in the Mojave for a whole month now. The first week alone was enough to shear them with the heartless reality of the Wasteland. The second week was spent acclimatizing to their new environment—from the constant death, the lack of care, and the near absence of order to the exotic flora and fauna and the scarcity of resources and bare necessities—while struggling with their homesickness. The third week yielded them with the quirks of being taken under the wing of one of the most influential persons in the entire region. This week shattered their illusions of him.

She could understand why hope was rare to have here. This world ate up those who tried to change it. Those who had some success ended up consuming themselves. It was bleak and heartless, despotic and cruel. Nonetheless, she still stubbornly held onto that vestige of hope.

Ruby knew there were still good people out there. Rebuilding, restoring, renewing... That was why nations like the New California Republic existed. To rebuild the world from the ashes of war. To keep nasty groups like the Imperium Americana and their monstrous American Legion in their places. Sure, the Republic had its questionable moments but despite its flaws, it still kept trying. And that was what solidified her resolve.

That was why she endeavored to help the people of this land. That was why she tried her hardest to help those escort girls escape from Gomorrah; to help supply the beleaguered Followers Of The Apocalypse with badly needed medicine and supplies; to help Six deal with his personal demons...even if he would not let her. That was why she ran along with Blake's insistence to investigate the man's past. That was why she overruled Weiss's protest not to meet with the NCR. That was why she let Yang crack her knuckles on some information brokers.

And that was why she was here, sitting on a sink top in the lavatory of the New Vegas Provincial Capitol, watching her teammates argue over General Hsu's offer. It was a good thing most of the staff in the facility were male lest they would be causing a line in front of the women's bathroom.

It was difficult to believe. But all those rumors and little tidbits they had been picking up over the past several days were founded on truths. And some of these truths were hard to stomach. Ruby always held Six as a hero but held back on admitting that he was a worse villain than any they had ever dealt with. Decorated, admired, glorified, vilified... He did not earn his place in this world by being nice, that was for sure. The reaper decided not to think of all the other ways he did to get to where he was right now. She still did hear about of some of them.

Then again, the same could be said of the NCR. The girls all had their reservations towards the Republic but they equally had every reason to consider them as the best...allies...in the Mojave Wasteland, making their intel more believable than most. And the fact that they knew everything this whole time, that they were complacent in everything, that they were coming to them of all people and asking them to do this...

"Six isn't a bad guy," Yang remarked, diffusing the argument between Weiss and Blake that had been going on for the past ten minutes.

"He still doesn't count as a good guy, either," the faunus said.

"He's a war criminal," Weiss retorted. "We've been living with a war criminal!"

"Still, think about what he's done for us so far," the blonde countered. "He's been feeding us, training us, gave us a roof over our head—heck, people won't even touch us because they think we're his children!"

Blake shook her head. "I think it's more out of fear than respect."

Weiss nodded. "I doubt his service record holds anything meriting any respect. Much less anything of proper moral standing!"

"Do you think he even cares about morals?"

"I don't. And that's what worries me." The heiress sighed. "Why is he going out of his way to even bother with us when he could have just disposed of us like he did with...with the last people he worked with?"

Six did not ditch Raul, Ruby wanted to say. The famous 'Vegas Nine' went their separate ways after a nasty falling out. That was what most people said, right? That was even in the reports, too. Right?

"Because we didn't piss him off?" interjected Yang.

"Because he doesn't want anymore complications."

"Complications?"

The faunus gazed at the mirror, as though seeing through their reflections at some distant memory, some idea that was lurking over the horizon, some sort of eureka moment that... "So that's why..."

"Uh, you got something there, Blakey?"

"General Hsu is probably right. Six wouldn't bother with anyone unless he needed them for something. Say a means to an end. A tool. A buffer for prying eyes or...a front for something."

Weiss cast doubt through her narrowed gaze. "Are you implying that our technically legal guardian is using us? As a sort of means to distract the outside world?"

"While he worked on something in secret," Blake continued. "This Samson Option sounds ominous. I couldn't get a solid read on the general but I could see through the governor."

"Alright. Lay it on us," Yang goaded.

Ruby listened intently as the faunus laid down her thoughts. From what they had gathered during their short investigation, Six was an aggressive recluse. He only brought along company only when they were needed during a job. And while he kept his working group limited to at most two people (including a hardy cyber-dog that used to belong to the King in Freeside and a Pre-War eye-bot packing enough firepower to level a base), the only time he ever expanded to a full squadron was during the Second Battle of Hoover Dam.

Now those eight people who had fought and bled with him on that bloody day had since dispersed, some never to be seen again. And Six moved on like they never even existed to begin with. The scary thought of it was that the same could happen to them. Both teams RWBY and JNPR (excluding Syrup) amounted to a full squadron with Six in charge. What could he possibly need them for?

Sure, they could not return to Remnant at this time but why else would he still bother with having them around in his personal spaces if there was nothing urgent to deal with? The American Legion had since retreated back to Arizona. Raiders were easy pickings for NCR patrols. New Vegas had already been pacified. There was nothing else that the Republic could not handle alone.

"Unless he wasn't working for the NCR," Weiss mouthed.

Blake nodded. "You remember what Swank said? Since the Second Battle of Hoover Dam, he's cut his ties with the Republic and most anyone directly associated with them."

"I can understand his reasoning to an extent. I mean, I would be more than disappointed if all my efforts would come to a sorry state as this."

"But why though?" Yang pondered. "If he's not doing any big jobs that he'd need extra muscle for then... Why take us in?"

"The Samson Option," Ruby piped.

"About time you spoke up," her sister murmured. "You've been really quiet, you know."

"You have a point, Blake," the reaper continued. "The NCR says the Samson Option is some kind of secret weapon that only Six can use. And they're afraid that he might use it against them because he isn't working for them anymore."

"And he probably needs us..." Weiss felt her brows rise to her hairline. "...to help him activate it."

"Or cover it up while he uses it against...whoever it is he's got a problem with," Yang added resolutely. "No offense, Blake, but I hope this is just some kind of crackpot theory. Sounds too far-fetched to me, honestly."

"We can't possibly be sure of anything right now," Blake corrected. "But I agree with you, Ruby. If the records are accurate, Six would be too calloused to consider keeping us after he's done with the Samson Option."

"This doesn't sound right," grumbled the brawler.

"It's not supposed to," Ruby said. "But do you guys remember what General Hsu said? 'Six is a broken man' but we can fix him."

"And they can't?" retorted Blake

Weiss sighed. "He only said that to sell it to us—"

The reaper shook her head. "No, no. They're right on that one. Six is broken. As a person, he's got his issues. That's why he drinks. Some people drink the way he does to forget things."

"Like Uncle Qrow, you mean," quipped Yang.

Ruby shook her head and pushed herself off the sink top. "Uncle Qrow has his reasons but he's not like Six. I mean, they have a lot in common with the drinking but he's not...well, you know what I mean. Guys, you know Six has issues that he keeps to himself. Whatever reasons he has for keeping us around, we'll make the most of it and make sure he doesn't do anything stupid or dangerous."

"You want us to accept the NCR's offer then?" Weiss slowly worded.

"Yes," came the quick reply.

Blake was reasonably apprehensive. "Are you sure about this, Ruby?"

"I don't know why we ended up here. But for whatever reason, we'll make our stay worth it. We're already here, we're here to help, and we will help. There are a lot of broken people here but I don't think there's no one as badly in need of healing as Six is. It's pretty obvious he needs fixing. And if no one else can do it, we will. If he's going to use this Samson thingy as a weapon, we'll stop him. It's for his own good."

The reaper felt the eyes of her teammates bore into her. While this was a normal occurrence within their team, this particular situation carried with it the burden of being far away from home, with no possible chance of going back, trapped in a distant land where death was likely to come around as easily as a fly would land on someone's face.

Ruby gulped. But she also steeled herself. She was not a child; she was old enough to handle dilemmas like this. Or so she hoped.

She took a deep breath and said with clear finality, "We may be far away from Beacon but we're still Huntresses-in-training. And as Huntresses-in-training, I say we take their offer."

It did not take much else for the rest of her team to agree to that.

General Hsu and Governor Crocker were still in the latter's office when they returned. Team RWBY shared apprehensive glances and curt nods with each other before Ruby stepped forward.

"We'll do it. On our conditions."

"Name them," the governor prodded.

"First off, we want everything you've got on Six," Yang started. "And we mean everything. Names, dates, places he's been to, stuff he's done. No lies, no half-truths."

"Secondly, we also want to see improvements in some of your administrative policies," Blake added, "towards minorities, second-rate citizens, and refugees."

"And because we are basing this on an agreement of trust," Weiss echoed, "we trust that you would refrain from hounding us with your spies. We prefer to do our business without your constant surveillance."

"That means your deal with Ren and Nora is off," Ruby reiterated. "Your cops can keep their mouths shut without our money."

To the surprise of the Huntresses-in-training, both men agreed to their terms. Maybe the NCR was fully capable of conceding some things, of being less belligerent and more considerate of human life. Or they were desperate. Probably both.

They returned to the Lucky Thirty-Eight later that evening. Strangely enough, Six had decided to go all the way to the Atomic Wrangler in Freeside to get hammered.

"If you're wondering, it was Nora's idea," Jaune remarked tiredly, rubbing his backside. "We staged an intervention and tried to get him to stop drinking so much. It worked at first then...he sort of slipped out when Nora got distracted."

"Don't worry, we'll get him!" the ginger declared, raising Magnhild. "He's not done with day one of rehab!"

"Guys," Ruby called. She waited until all of team JNPR-S gathered around them in the corridor. A simple order sent Victor downstairs to the empty casino to watch for 'security threats' even though no one else could get into the tower to begin with. "We've got something really serious."

"Did anyone of you burn down a building again?" Ren inquired.

"Not this time," muttered Yang.

"What then seems to be the problem," asked Pyrrha.

Ruby looked at her teammates and then their sister team then took a deep breath. "Six...needs help."

"We're already working on that—"

"No, Jaune," Weiss interrupted. "Six needs restraint on serious matters."

"Alcohol is serious—"

"Not the problem, Nora," Blake corrected.

"Listen," the reaper ordered. "The NCR asked us to investigate something Six is hiding. Something potentially dangerous. Something that they think could destroy the world as we know it."

Sensing the doubtful silence, Yang motioned to the elevator. "Let's talk about this upstairs. Some of you guys might be needing some cocktails for this one. I sure as hell need a couple."

NOTE (March 24, 2018): Goddamn this was hard to write. The challenge here was delivering team RWBY's resolve without over-saturating the narrative (I decided to settle on Ruby's perspective on this one). But I felt the need to explain why they did what they did and their rationale behind it. After all, they have to technically take a sentient human life given how Six labored to keep them sheltered.

Also, I took my time with this one. I even took a creative break by writing How Long Has It Been? on the main fandom (shameless promotions :P) to help clear my mind after crunching so many ideas. I might be going back on this to edit it if you guys can come up with suggestions and improvements on RWBY and JNPR's psyche/mentality because I feel like more could be done with them.

Hope you guys like it and let me know what you think. :)

-~oOo~-

(March 24, 2018)

Review dude: Yeah, I admit that was bordering on steamy but it was too good so I had to throw it in there.

I could relate to your computer problems. I've worked with even worse units before so it all boils down to patience. Everything has become an exercise in patience.

Now that you mentioned it, I'm planning to have Raven in but at a much later part. Ulysses, though, has had his time and I don't think he'd be showing up soon. But his legacy lives on, however, and it would be haunting to Six and everyone else, including RWBY and JNPR.

Guest: Thanks for bringing those up. I'll look them up when I have the time. Today's a busy season with so many things happening but I'll see if I can watch some of their content. I'll be holding off on the Fallout 4 stuff though because I don't want to spoil myself yet. Again, thanks! :)

Joe: Thanks! I'm working on it. :)

-~oOo~-

Omake.

He felt the vibrations in his gut and paled. It was that damn rumbling again. That unbearable, godforsaken rippling in his abdomen that screamed for release. No, he was not secretly a woman (even if he was, he was sure this was not what that time of the month felt like). Instead, a certain someone had laced his flask with some damned laxative. A really strong one, too.

"I still have fifty stitches in my ass," he seethed through grit teeth while clutching onto the metal railing so hard it was difficult to tell which would break: his hands or the bannister.

"That's what you get for cheating on your rehab," Nora scolded.

"I've got shit worse than hemorrhoids right now and you're making me shit like there's no tomorrow!" Another growl and agonizing rumble meant that the dam was about to break. A mudflow was coming. He could feel the chunks crashing against his rectal walls in repeated waves and dreaded the red streaks that might trickle with it.

As if the universe had conspired to spite him, the nearest lavatory was a long walk away. Either he did his business in some dark corner or he muscle through it until he found an unbroken porcelain toilet in some abandoned apartment.

"Do you need butt wipes?" Pancake called.

Shut the fuck up! Six waved her off as he struggled through the Strip to the streets of Freeside, eventually ditching her with a convenient distraction from the locals, until he stumbled into an alley.

There! This will have to do. He had been through worse. It did burn though—those damn chili beans Shaolin cooked up were literally biting him back in the ass.

An hour later, a Vegas hobo returned to his cardboard box to find that he needed a new one.

ORIGINALLY DRAFTED: March 10, 2018

LAST EDITED: April 30, 2023

INITIALLY UPLOADED: March 24, 2018