Chapter Text
The heat.
The heat was slowly killing him. That had to be it. The whole story about him getting enslaved, tricked and sold by the sickest pussycat to ever waltz into his casino, thereby ruining his life – yes of course that could have something to do with it.
But mostly it was just the heat.
Finally someone in this godforsaken legion camp was merciful enough to start towering over him menacingly, granting him some shadow.
„Will you look at that – it’s Benny. That prick with the ugly suit“
Benny didn‘t move.
The legionnaire crouched down to his eye level.
„Heard the news?“, Benny could hear the ugly grin through the soldier‘s voice, „Tonight! It’s gonna happen tonight! Are you excited? I’m excited!“
Benny wasn’t excited. He wasn’t even terrified. Ever since he was left in front of Caesar’s tent with his arms bound behind his back, kneeling on the ground, like the sack of potatoes he deep down knew he was, he didn’t really feel anything anymore.
His pussycat didn’t love him. Didn’t even care enough to hate him. He’d been just a card she needed for her set of caravan and now the game had been played and won. He hadn’t even been a player.
For all these reasons and more, the legion soldier bullying him didn‘t get the response he thought he’d get and simply, kind of awkwardly, left him, leaving Benny to roast in the mojave sun once more.
He was going to get crucified tonight. Benny felt bored. If only he could make things up with her, make things alright again, show her he didn’t really mean to trick and double cross her, just like she double crossed him.
That didn’t include telling her the truth of course, or being any kind of honest. Just getting another chance to trick her again, to mess with her again. That would be fun.
What a pair they were. Two slimy, two-faced rattlesnakes, devouring each other’s tails.
Benny was just in the process of thinking up another poetic metaphor for him and the courier’s non-relationship, when shouting interrupted his creative process.
„Why don’t you make like Odysseus and get lost!“
Someone stormed out of Caesar’s tent.
It was the crazy bitch all his dreams were about!
„Courier! Courier, you forgot someone very important, and he’s lying right here, can you guess, it’s m-“
That’s about as far as he got with his reunion speech, before sharp pain exploded in his right cheek, crash landing him face first into the hot sand.
She wasn’t stupid. He could fantasize all he wanted about their mutual hate for each other, that the desert had allegedly melted it into liquid lava love – in reality they were enemies and Benny wanted revenge.
Who had been that voice talking about Odysseus? Didn’t sound like someone native to the legion.
_-*-_-*_-*-_-*_-*-_*-_*-_
Arcade had wanted to say a lot more and wasn’t nearly done getting all his anger out, so he just stewed for a while, sitting at the table in Caesar’s tent and trying to work out what went wrong with his life. How does someone start out as a doctor, scientist and intellectual, cared for and caring for others, and end up as the personal physician of a megalomaniac warlord.
Although of course, there was one possible benefit to all of this. The dictator’s life now rested in Arcade‘s hands – he could murder Caesar in plain sight and no one would be quick enough to stop him. Coincidentally, dying on a cross didn't sound so bad. Your organs give up after a few hours, right? Don’t you already die from shock even while they’re nailing you to it?
Wait- did the legion nail their convicts to a cross or tie them to it? Arcade realized how important the answer to that fun little trivia question actually was. The blood loss he’d suffer from the nail version would kill him way quicker than the long arduous days he’d endure if he were to just hang there.
Arcade slowly got up and started walking in restless circles.
„You're Arcade“
The almighty, glorious, quite underwhelming once he actually stands before you, figure of Caesar had appeared before him. Staring holes into his forehead.
For a few moments more he didn’t say anything. He wasn’t even aware there was an answer expected from him. Before he knew it, his chin was in Caesar’s relentless grip, his jaw already aching.
„Yes, that’s me“, Arcade ground out between grit teeth.
Caesar let go, his eyes lighting up, „Delighted. You don’t seem very bright. You were way wittier with the Courier“
„She brings out the best in me“, Arcade delivered with an eye roll.
Caesar laughed the most unnatural laugh ever, it lasted two seconds. "You’re still intact.“
„Sic semper tyrannis“
All of a sudden Caesar's face grew rigid and he smiled. "You want to provoke me. Do that if you want to. Considering the situation you're in, it's somewhat amusing even"
And that was that.
Arcade would serve this man – either until Arcade decided to kill him and get crucified as punishment; or until Caesar himself got tired of him and let him be crucified.
He missed his boring tent and boring research. He missed the days when he wandered the desert with that blasted Courier.
_-*-_-*_-*-_-*_-*-_*-_*-_
Tens of hours had come and went and Benny was still alive.
That‘s kind of the main problem, when you’ve been crucified.
He had tried counting them (the hours) but that proved too difficult so he resorted to counting the various ways he’d pull out his tormentor’s teeth, once he’d free himself.
He was a terrible shot (as his recent predicament brought to him by a still living courier proved) but he still knew the good old boot rider traditions by heart.
And he would get off that cross.
And he would piss all over that damn camp, get his platinum chip, kill everyone in that damn camp, have a drink – maybe not in that order but he had the basics covered.
Benny had never been a vengeful man. For most of his life he’d played long games, never one for continuous fist fights out in the scorching sun.
But this particular cesspool of scum and treachery was most deserving of a change of heart.
„Look out!“, one of the frumentarii surrounding him shouted, „He’s getting that faraway look in his eyes! Degenerates are not allowed to faint while they’re supposed to be suffering! Let’s throw rocks at him!“
„Don’t adults like you have something better to do“
Not half of a second had gone by after Arcade said it and he already regretted doing so.
Well, too late to stop something that had already been set in motion.
„Maybe rape some more defenceless woman – that’ll fill up that general emptiness inside“, he suggested further, positioning himself between Benny and the soldiers.
One of them (he was the biggest of the five men) slowly advanced on the scientist.
„If you weren’t directly responsible for Caesar’s wellbeing, you’d be dead where you stand“
„Besides, raping women is fun!“, one of the younger ones interrupted.
Arcade sighed, „Caesar himself sent me. He wants to know if the Casino owner is still alive“
„Good luck with answering that philosophical question“, one of them muttered, but eventually they all left.
Arcade and Benny were alone.
Benny scoffed. That’s all he really could do. His arms felt like prosthetics made of lead, his mouth like it was filled with steel wool. A ‘thank you’ was the last thing he was thinking about.
Arcade could have related to that, had Benny voiced those troubles, but right now the only thing he perceived was that horrible stench coming from the dying man. Benny wouldn’t survive the next day.
They stared at each other some more and then a spark ignited between them. Or at least, that’s what Benny felt in that moment. His chest swelled with hope and furious righteousness at the thought alone of it.
„You don’t wanna be here, don’t you, pal? And yet they let you run free!“
„I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but … there’s a guarded fence and guards and guard dogs around the camp“
„Right, of course, I understand“, Benny smiled derisively. Who was this doctor fooling? Danger emanated from him. He could act innocent and clueless all he wanted, but Benny felt it, could taste it on his tongue.
This doctor’s mission statement wasn’t about saving lives. Neither dictators, nor civilians would survive once Benny ignited that flame in him.
„How about a truce?“
Arcade would have laughed, but he couldn’t muster up enough energy.
„A truce with the guy who wanted to overthrow New Vegas after House gave him a chance for a new life –?“
Benny deflated. „So that’s a no then?“
Arcade decided he did enough good for the day by extending Benny’s suffering for a few hours more.
Not even for a second did he consider siding with that slimeball. Better than the courier he might be, but changing one snake for another, slightly different colored snake wouldn’t be productive.
No, what would be productive, would be to continue to mope around the camp, feeling sorry for himself. He’d continue doing that.