betterment

1

"Remind me why you're even out here with me."

"Because you'd die in two seconds if I weren't."

Aerri winces as Arcade wraps a second layer of gauze around the shot site from the stimpak.

"Y'know, you wouldn't get hurt as badly if you didn't run in so fast," Arcade says as he sits down on the curb. "They may just be ants, but they're deadly. And giant."

"A bug's a bug," Aerri huffs. "You stomp 'em and they die."

"Not with that exoskeleton, no. You do realise ants can carry hundreds of times their own weight because of it, right? They used to be smaller than the pad of your pinkie."

"Wonderful, can we go back to those days when bugs were seemingly normal sizes?" Aerri adjusts, his leg outstretched onto the destroyed concrete. Arcade just watches, noting the way his companion is avoiding pressure on his ankle. "...What?"

"You twisted your ankle, too, didn't you?" Arcade sighs as he kneels forwards and takes off Aerri's shoe. "Oh- No. You dislocated it. Jesus."

"I'm fine, just let me relax," Aerri says, attempting to shuffle away, but to no avail. No way to easily escape with one bum foot.

"On the count of three," Arcade says, then suddenly twists Aerri's joint back into place, causing a shout to be thrown into the sky.

"Fuck you, Arc!" Aerri yells.

"A thanks would be nice, actually, considering I just saved you a lot of future problems," Arcade shoots back, brandishing a shot of med-x to alleviate the pain. As soon as it hits the nerves in Aerri's joint, Aerri breathes relief.

"...Thank you," Aerri says after a moment, when Arcade takes a seat next to him again. "I probably don't say it enough, given the circumstances."

"What circumstances?" Arcade questions, leaning to meet Aerri's skyward gaze. "Are you talking about the one I put myself in, or the one that all us citizens are forced to handle?"

"I'm talking about how often I put myself in danger without needing to," Aerri explains. "I'm the one that dragged you through Ultra-Luxe, I'm the one that had you on tap for the Omertas. I mean, at this point, we're on our way to be face-to-face with Caesar, and who knows what the fuck he'll do to you?"

Arcade sighs, torn. On one hand, yes, Aerri is reckless. And a bit rude. But he's independent-hearted, and strives for something that matters. Whether it's discovering and solving problems, no matter how small, digging up history no one else would dare touch, or uniting groups of people, no matter how isolated.

"Listen," Arcade begins, and Aerri meets his gaze now, expectant for a half-assed response like he always gets. "I'm out here with you for a lot of different reasons. The most important one, however, is that I like you. I like who you are, as a person. I mean, as men go, you're more desirable than most."

Aerri snorts, "Don't tell me you're only here for my good looks, Arc." Arcade gives a rare smile, one Aerri doesn't see very often, or perhaps even fails to notice.

"Well, who was it who asked for the handsome doctor to protect him in the scary wasteland?"

"I don't think I ever said you were handsome," Aerri laughs. "Cute, maybe."

"Verbatim, your words were 'good-looking,'" Arcade reminds. "I remember it because you were so forward."

"What can I say?" Aerri hums as he sits up fully, facing Arcade. "I'm a sucker for a man in uniform. Medical, that is." He pats Arcade's cheek lightly with a bare hand before leaning and picking up his shoe, slipping in on his bad foot with ease.

Arcade sits stunned for a moment, assessing the situation. He has enough of a functioning brain to realise that their initial flirt when they met had been fleeting. Though it was little to go on as a means of parading into the wasteland, Aerri was captivating in a way Arcade couldn't describe at the time.

Though Aerri had taken the time to help Julia, he still had a bad mouth and, sometimes, an even worse attitude. Arcade's not his keeper, though, and knows that he can walk away from it all whenever he wants. He can parade his way back to Mormon and keep staring at plants and weeds and leaves until he dies.

But honestly, despite all the trouble they've run into, Arcade can't find it in himself to abandon his companion. If Arcade can keep him alive enough to give the people independence, he must be doing something right.

Even when Aerri was confronted about rerouting the power, and had even given a valid point about the NCR's need, he still gave the power to Freeside. Like something in his moral compass clicked for the better.

"C'mon, Arc, we gotta get that McCarran photo for Michael," Aerri huffs as he tests his weight on his bad ankle. The med-x had cleared up most of the pain fairly fast, and now Aerri's bouncing on it like it's new. "Time to see if being handsome really makes you a better doctor."

"...Yeah. Yeah, okay," Arcade hums as he stands, his mind still fairly far away. "Remind again why we're doing this, though."

"For fun." Aerri starts off in the direction of McCarran, glancing at his Pip-Boy to double-check the distance. "Besides, it's only right I do after I scared that poor kid into thinking I was working for Mr. House..." Aerri's voice trails off before continuing, "...I'm working on it. Being nicer, I mean." He turns to face Arcade, stopping the doctor in his tracks to follow with what can only be described as regret on his face. "I know I can be an asshole, but I'm trying. The more I realise that the world doesn't have to be against me, the better I am."

"Oh, really?" Arcade hums as he takes a few long strides forward, face-to-face with Aerri. "And what gave you that grand enlightenment?" Aerri gives a smirk.

"A certain handsome medical professional might've inadvertently tipped me off," he says smugly, turning and striding off again, knowing his companion will follow.

"Inadvertently is a pretty big word for such an asshole," Arcade comments as he catches up.

"The Vigor-Tester said I have an intelligence score of ten."

"...You better stay single until this is all over."