Work Text:
With the second battle for the Hoover Dam's victory secured by both the Courier and Yes Man, along with the deadly army of Securitrons, life seemed to slow down steadily. New Vegas had gained its independence; no more Legion, no more NCR to pose a formidable threat. Sure, you had the random lucky group of Legionnaires or NCR troops roaming the Wasteland that had escaped the initial slaughter. Still, once they were spotted out in the Mojave, they were exterminated just as quickly. Months passed, leaving the Courier and Yes Man to fall into a routine. Yes Man, giving reports of issues within the strip, or Freeside, and any other concerning tidbits of information around the Mojave for Six to snuff out or fix. They also helped Yes Man on expeditions to find better upgrades and technology that could be implemented for their robotic partner and ever-growing army. Six had always been one for adventure; it was apparent in the many ways their walk through the desert had changed people's lives, for better or worse, depending on who you were that is. At first, they were exhilarated to relieve the people from under the Legion's and NCR's thumb. But the routine was never their thing. Or at least it was not now. Six sometimes found themself pondering on what their past self would have liked. But ever since their encounter with Benny, they felt like they had to constantly be on the go.
Sitting down and knowing what to expect almost every day was monotonous. Either it was to help one of the head honchos at the Casino stop their beefing with another hard head, extinguish a party of legionaries, or deal with some other small-time rag-tag team of troublemakers. They didn't feel like they were making the difference they were before. It was dreadful. And it made them hungry, hungry to explore and find new people to meet and help. They had heard talk and rumors of a vault dweller kicking ass and taking names in search of their father up in the ruins of what was Washington, DC.
Six had found herself couped up in the Lucky Thirty-Eight for far longer than they desired due to Yes Man's near-constant requests for help with things that would conveniently keep them inside for long periods, such as maintenance around the Casino or tinkering with Yes Man's code. Every day, they felt the growing, burning itch under their skin to see more of the world around them; even though they loved the people they had met here in the Mojave and the changes they had made, they knew more was still left to be done and seen. In the back of their mind, they knew why they kept putting off leaving the Mojave. They dreaded of how Yes Man would react. Despite his new assertive personality upgrade, it was undeniable that Yes Man had grown more attached to them over time. Putting themselves in his wheels, as well as picking up on some hint from their conversations, it was obvious the connection he had to them. Yes man's only interaction with another person since his consciousness started was a man who only wanted to use him, treated him like he wasn't truly able to grasp the things around him, and only saw him as a machine. But after he heard the gargled cries of Benny and then saw the Courier's stunning face peer around the corner, he knew they were something good. Over time, they proved they were more than just an attractive face, but someone who had a fierce and sound heart. They had helped those in need and listened to him most of all. Even with his limited expression, they knew what he wanted and meant and made quick work of his suggestions. They took him seriously and saw him as an equal, a partner. After they had claimed victory at the battle of Hoover Dam and Yes Man informed the Courier of his discovery of a way to free himself of his restrictive coding as well, the raw excitement and support for his decision made his nonexistent heart explode. All this is not to say that the Couier had also not found comfort and a deep connection with Yes Man. When they met him, they were a bit skeptical at first. In a way, they were waiting for the other shoe to drop. Everyone in the Mojave wanted them to aid them with something, always with an ulterior motive to usurp the throne from Mr.House, and they knew they would leave them in the dust afterward. They wouldn't put it past any of the factions to put a bullet in their head after their usefulness had run out in order to tie up loose ends, effectively finishing what Benny had started. But what reason would Yes Man have to trick them? What would he gain from using them? He seemed safer to them, and as he felt when they first met, that unspoken connection and trust they had felt for Yes Man. It was the first person they felt that almost automatic 'click' with since they had risen from the dead. It wouldn't be a lie to say the Courier had almost an unbearable guilt lingering within them ever since the desire to leave the Mojave had come to mind. It felt like they were betraying their only true friend. The Courier had a feeling they weren't keeping their secret desires so secret. and they thought Yes Man could pick up on their mood changes and untold wants for a change of pace. It may be an explanation for their partner's ever-climbing clinginess and never-ending tasks that require Six at the tower at all times.
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You slowly awake to the sound of the door to your room opening, along with several other items being placed around the room. With your brain still in a fog and your eyes closed, the brightness that came through cleared away any chance of falling back asleep. Still, you pushed the heavy blankets over your eyes and let out a small groan.
"Good Morning Six! It's eight O'clock now. I hate to disturb you, but you have that ten o'clock meeting with the Omertas today, and I want to make sure you ate beforehand and that we discuss the issues they were having again." Yes Man came over to your side of the king bed, gently tugging down the corner of your blanket, which made you giggle, with one of his clawed hands. At the same time, the other held a tray of scrambled deathclaw eggs, some sausage, and assorted fruit with some water in a clear, tall glass. You smiled politely and stretched before sitting up and gingerly taking the tray from his grasp.
"Thank you Yes Man, I appreciate it." You smiled lightly, and again, guilt spurred in your gut. You had told him many times that he didn't need to do such a nice thing as breakfast in bed. It made you feel like you saw him as just a maid bot or the like, but he insisted he wanted to. He wanted to make you happy. It felt like another subtle way to keep you from leaving. But you push the bitter idea down, not wanting to feel too terrible as soon as you wake up.
Yes Man rolled away a bit from the edge of the bed so that you may swing your legs over and begin eating sitting up. He always loved seeing you wake up in the morning; your messy bedhead and adorable sleepy expression always made bringing you breakfast worth it. It made your friendship seem more intimate to him. If he was especially lucky, some days when he came in, he wouldn't wake you right away and be able to watch your sleeping figure rest. He loved how peaceful and calm you looked, allowing the idea that you were content with the current way you were living to be a reality in his head and permitting him to momentarily forget the unspoken growing tension in the Casino between the both of you. He noticed your attention drifting further from him every day. During briefings, he would be talking about a new issue or development in the Mojave and then find you unintentionally daydreaming while looking out over the vast desert from the table or bringing up this crazed vault dweller in Washington and what achievements and changes they had made recently. He could see the desire and longing, the wonder in your eyes for more. But more than the Mojave, more without him. It scared him. The idea of losing the only person he cared about, the only human he could actually stand. Nothing would be worth it with his partner by his side. But, for now, he decided to ignore that thought and focus on you enjoying the meal he made for you today. The grateful grin you displayed and the exclamation that his cooking improved every day put Yes Man on cloud nine.
You were thankful for the radio playing lowly in the background, for the awkward silence except for your chewing and drinking would be intolerable. You swallowed some of the scrambled death claw egg you held in your mouth.
"So, what did you want to go over about the Omertas again?" You poked at the sausage with a prong of your fork while talking, finding it challenging to hold a conversation and eye contact particularly hard this morning.
"Well, a complaint about..." Yes Man started to reiterate the conversation from yesterday about what was happening. Still, it seemed like it was impossible to hear him. As you stared at your food, you imagined what food they had elsewhere. Does Washington have plants like Agave fruit? Or Barrel cactus fruit? Perhaps not; the weather conditions may not be able to sustain that type of vegetation. Was it greener in Washington? It had to be greener than here in the literal desert. You wondered about the culture and the different problems they may have surviving out there. Then, your thoughts were brought back to the infamous vault dweller, or as you came to call them, the Lone Wanderer. You had this pull to help them find their father and discover the mysteries that the Wasteland held from your grasp. Ideas of how you would find the Lone Wanderer and how they would receive your desire to aid them would go, and it sends pulses of excitement throughout your body with the desire to find out.
"...Six? Six, are you listening?"
"Huh? Oh, shoot, I'm so sorry Yes Man, I think I'm still waking up. But I remember our conversation from yesterday and what the best course of action is!" An apologetic and sheepish look was held in your face, feeling genuinely guilty for almost constantly tuning your friend out. Especially when it came to work matters. You knew he put a lot of labor into contributing to the continued stability of New Vegas and surrounding settlements. You were hoping he would buy the white lie and not see past what was so obvious.
"I hate to be this Robot, but we gotta talk."
It seemed like he didn't buy it.
You let out a heavy sigh, feeling once again the anguish and guilt swell in its place. Looking at his screen, you could see he looked saddened, worried with his slight pout and was now the one to avoid eye contact.
"The tension around the Casiono has been so thick I could cut it with a knife! What has been on your mind, Six? I know something is going on.." You knew he already knew what was going on. It felt like, deep down, he was begging for it to be something else.
"I.. I think we both know.. that, well," You held the corner of the comforter, rubbing it between your fingers and finding a small bit of grounding through the softness of the pre-war fabric. A huff of air pushed through your chest, with the challenge of not letting tears well up in your eyes. Why was this so hard? A part of you felt fear, but you couldn't place why.
"I've been thinking.. of.."
"Leaving me. You've been thinking of leaving me." His stern tone of voice cut through your heart deeply. Heat blossomed upon your entire being from shame and remorse, causing you to bow your head further and shrink into yourself.
"It's not about leaving you!" You began to fidget with your fingers, incapable of lifting your head. "I just have so much more to do, so much more to see. There is an entire world out there that I could help with." You lift your head, invigored with the discussion of the Wasteland yonder. "Haven't you heard about the terrible things going on in the Wasteland? Super Mutants are like an incurable rampant disease up there, and the Lone Wanderer-"
"Oh gosh, this 'Lone Wanderer' guy again!"
His outburst made you jump a bit, almost causing you to spill the remains of your breakfast on the floor below. He wheeled close up to you, his chassis pushing apart your legs and slotting itself between your bare thighs. The cold of the metal made your skin break out into goosebumps and forced a quick shiver up your spine. He swiped the tray off your lap with a heavy paw, and you watched as the dish shattered porcine shards on the ground and food scattered every which way. Your mouth fell open but snapped shut, and your head jerked to his screen, which was inches away from your nose when you felt the force of his colossal metal arms crash down on the space on either side of your body on the bed. He effectively had you trapped.
No longer was a shiver going up your spine from the coolness of his metal, but it was now a result of the justification of the fear you had felt earlier inches from your face.
"What does that kid have that I don't? What can he provide for you that I don't do every day? You have never even MET the guy!"
Tears had already begun to rush down your cheeks, and your eyebrows knitted together. You had never ever seen Yes Man have an outburst near this level, even after his newfound assertiveness instated. It took the air out of your chest and replaced it with the animal instinct to run. Even with your heart hammering in your chest, your legs were jelly, damn near felt nonexistent.
"We have done so much together, and you're just willing to throw away all the things we have accomplished for some random guy in Washington?!" His claws dug into the softness of the mattress, and without even needing to look, you knew it had been ripped. His yelling made you jump out of your skin, still rendering you unable to say anything.
"I'm.. I'm not going to let you throw us away, me away." he looked crazed, deep in thought, and it scared you to think of what he may be brewing up.
"Yes Man!" He snapped from his staring contest with the ground and back to your tear-soaked cheeks, which made his expression soften a considerable amount.
"I'm not throwing anything away, certainly not you." A shaky hand left your side to lay it on his metal arm with the intent to comfort him; it felt like any movements would cause him to bludgeon you. But you had to try to calm him down. Your own voice sounded broken, and you felt more terrified than you had in a long time. You had to reason with him.
"I know that it sounds scary, me, um, exploring other places." You wanted to avoid the word leaving at all costs, "But you'll always be with me in my heart, and you are more than capable of running New Vegas by yourself." Your thumb stroked between the spaces of his anatomy on his arm as you spoke. "You're a powerhouse of an individual, no matter what you think. You don't need me, a-and I will never love you any less no matter where I am or how far I go. You're my best friend.." When you finished, you looked up with a hopeful, broken smile.
Instead of relief or comfort residing in his features, a snarl of his mouth was animated instead. He grabbed the wrist of the hand that was caressing him with a quickness, the force of his grip making you groan, and in an instant, you knew ugly bruises would blossom upon the skin later.
"You just do not get it, do you, Six," He barked out a laugh. "New Vegas could burn for all I care without you; there wouldn't be a point of being sentient without seeing you each day, all the times we stayed up late into the night, talking, exploring old world documents. All the adventures in the Mojave we have done, us making all THIS happen." He swung his free arm to gesture to the Lucky Thirty-Eight and the progress of freeing New Vegas. He then turned back to face you." It was for you; I only did it because I loved you almost as soon as I met you. It may have taken me some time to realize what I was feeling, but I know for sure now. And now you can just run out on us? Six, we are more than friends or even best friends; you must have realized that by now."
An extravagant blush streaks across your face at his aggressive confession. Another unspoken and untouched topic between the two of you. Of course, although never had it been openly admitted to Yes Man, there were deeper feelings than just friendship between you and your co-ruler. For one reason or another, it was just never discussed. Call it poor communication skills. But you could not deny the butterflies you feel in your chest and lower belly when you hear his laughter booming through the speakers of the mainframe or overhead when he was calling for you to come visit him. Or how much easier you fall back asleep when he notices you through his many cameras throughout the Casino that you have awoken from another one of your night terrors and insisted he would stay right next to your bed to ensure you that everything was safe. And not to mention the countless times you would both go out to your secret place in the desert to star gaze away from the blaring lights of New Vegas blocking the beauty of the night sky. You couldn't say there wasn't more to the two of you. But you were so conflicted; the way he was acting now terrified you to your core and completely changed how you saw him. It's not that he was not allowed to show his anger, but it just confirmed all his little acts and favors were all a subtle manipulation to force your presence to be constant next to him. The way he crushed your wrist made you realize how much danger you were in, but it was too late.
"You're fucking insane!"
"And you're not leaving!"
To his surprise and yours, you managed to catapult your body backways and out of his grasp, effectively vaulting yourself off the bed. You had half a second to shoot onto your feet and dash out of your presidential suite. Behind you, you could hear his voice boom with a terrible roar and slam his massive metal frame against walls and furniture to get to you. You couldn't look back. The moment you would, you knew you would stop in fear, and your legs would collapse under you. As you jammed the buttons on the elevator, it opened with no particular urgency. You slammed your body inside and dodged Yes Man's, grabbing sharp metal claws about to reach for the inside of the elevator. You felt like you could run forever with the adrenaline coursing through your veins. Now that you had escaped his grasp, you had to form a plan on how to get out of the strip and get out of New Vegas, literally with only the clothes, which weren't very much since they were pajamas, on your back. While you were planning your getaway, the elevator shook with a tremor, making you stumble out of your thoughts. What the hell, you shouldn't be anywhere near the bottom? Then you saw the numbers tick slowly back up to the presidential suite. In your panic, you forgot somehow that Yes Man had control over the entirety of the Casino.
"NO! No, no, no- FUCK!"
There was absolutely nothing you could do to escape going back up to the floor he was in. You had never felt quite like the phrase 'trapped like a rat' so spot on before, and it was one of the worst feelings you had ever felt. A wrecked, strangled sob left your body as you crumpled to the ground and waited for the doors to open to your once best friend. You buried your face in your hands.
Over the intercom of the elevator, Yes Man began to speak to you.
"I actually can't believe you thought that would work!" His tone dripped with condescension with that false chipper tune he was forced to use before his upgrade that made your body run cold.
"Don't you remember you put me in charge of all of New Vegas's technology, which obviously includes the Lucky Thirty-Eight?" He chuckled, one of his stupidly charming ways that would have made you gush before.
The bell in the elevator dinged. The doors hissed open, and he was right in front of you.
You couldn't even attempt to move before he grabbed the scruff of your shirt like a raggedy tom cat and carried your squirming and fighting body back to your room.
Once he threw you on your bed, he was on top of you in seconds. One hang engulfed your entire chest, pinning you down, and the other. Gripped your left leg. He looked remorseful for what he was about to do, which you did not know.
"I'm sorry, Six, this going to hurt a lot."
"What are you talking about?!-"
Not a sound could come out of your mouth as you heard the crunching and snapping of your shin breaking under the pressure of his claws. It felt like the world stopped. After a second, a guttural scream came from deep in your chest. You tried to pry the hand he had holding you down by your chest off of you to no use and opted to just hold onto it for stability and some form of sick comfort.
"Please, please, please, please, no..!" The mix of the betrayal and the broken shin was blinding, making your pleas a mantra and your heart feel like it was going to implode.
"I know I-I'm going to fix this; this is temporary, just until I can get you secured. Please just hold on!" With that, he whizzed out of the room and ordered two other Securitrons to enter the room through the network. All that you could possibly do was lay there, wailing and sobbing, attempting to mitigate the pain to be bearable. After a few moments, Yes Man returned with a collar you recognized belonged to the legion with some modifications and a stimpak. One of the Securetrons reached to grab you and, with no care for your comfort at all, hoisted you up by your arms so you were unable to struggle much. As if you had any energy left. The other went around the room and started to pick up all of your items, shoving them outside the room.
Wordlessly, Yes Man stuck you with the stimpak and locked the modified collar around your neck. In addition to the possible explosive element, it also had a chain hook to the back of it. You had seen pre-war photos of pet dogs with their owners with this type of collar during your late night old world document night with Yes Man, and if you weren't so exhausted, you'd be insulted.
"Guess I'm just your bitch now, huh?" Your snarky remark had no wind to it and made Yes Man frown all the same.
"It's not like that.. I just. I can't have you leave. You'll come to understand that this is really what you want. This is what's best for both of us. We can talk more once they are done, um, you proofing the room." He waved a claw at the room, most likely referring to the weapons and other helpful trinkets you had collected and stored in your unit. With that, he took you from the Securitron that was holding you in the air from his arms, and he went to work clearing your room as well. He held you to his chassis, lovingly cradling your weakened body.
"You were planning this. Why else would you have this collar so fucking readily available." You gave a tug to it to try to relieve you of its weight. The metal was heavy and dragging down upon your collarbone; the chain dangling freely from the back did not help either. His mouth animated to say something to defend himself but then closed it since there was nothing he could say. With one metal claw, he soothed your hair back and left it to linger on your cheek. You closed your eyes and wanted to fall into the comfort of it.
"I love you." Was all he could say as he watched you rest in his arms with the other two Securetrons roaming around behind him. He placed you back on the bed and secured the chain to a looped point on his chassis. For a second, your brain felt like it was one of those nights you wake up from your night terrors, and he would be there to protect you. Now it was from him you needed protecting from.