Work Text:
Cass was cynical, Sixer had decided. Admittedly, it wasn’t like Sixer didn’t have its fair share of pessimism and distrust, but it did try to look for kindness. That was why it was alive, after all.
It didn’t know who it was before it was Sixer, but that didn't matter to it. It had been saved, and it wanted to save others.
Cass didn’t quite get that. She didn’t understand why Sixer so desperately wanted to be the kind stranger in someone else’s life. She hadn’t had anyone do that for her.
But. Cass sighed, grumbled, rolled her eyes, and helped Sixer help people. Cass was not, despite what she said and projected, one of the terrible parts of the world. She was not someone who would break you. The world had broken her.
Life might be short, Sixer wouldn’t deny that, not with the frequent seizures and migraines that a bullet in the brain rewarded it, but it would take that over death any day. Death had made Sixer believe in the inherent beauty of the world. That Cass had watched death was what made her so sure it was terrible.
Still, they could make the Mojave beautiful. Together.