the tower.

[shortstraw]

It started in Novac, in that lovely Dino Dee-Lite Motel by the dilapidated gas station.

He had told her they could be found in the upper corner room, living the Post-War American dream. If not there, they had others: cabins, bunkers, safehouses, and the like. He gave her all the map points, confident in their future whereabouts. And above all, he was certain they would never be in the New Vegas, beneath the bright lights of the Strip.

The motel room had been empty. The Brotherhood safehouse and the cabin by Jacobstown also held no occupants. After traveling nearly the entire width of the Mojave Wasteland, moving from town to fucking town, she finally caught a whiff of him in Freeside.

The crier for Mick & Ralph's had seen a man matching Alex Seattle Geer's description lately, headed directly into the heavily guarded gates of the New Vegas Strip.

Judas, Sarah had thought. Blood betrayer. She then walked the road back to the Dino Dee-Lite Motel, to that cozy little upper room in the corner, and left Alex a very nice surprise.

Three days later, after finding the presidential suite of the Tops woefully empty, Sarah corners a man in the streets. Their exchange proves short, and with his pockets noticeably heavier, the guy walks the short distance to the center of the road. There, with the Vault Dweller looking on, he straightens to attention and produces a piece of paper from his pockets.

"Ladies and gentleman of New Vegas, may I have your attention please?" he reads, voice clear to the nearby bystanders and vigilant Securitrons. "It is my absolute pleasure to introduce to you a Very Important Person--" The man looks over his shoulder briefly, a quizzical look on his face. "Why is it capitalized?" he asks.

"Go on," she mouths, waving lazily at the gathering crowd.

He shrugs and continues as directed. "Someone who has traveled a great distance and sacrificed a good deal of time, bullets, and money to be here with you fine folks. She is the Champion of the Holy Thirteen, the Swan Song of the Master and His Most Unholy Unity, the Keeper of All Your Dogs, a Sometimes Friend to You and I... I present to you: The Vault Dweller!"

Comments

[doubletap]

Crowds gathering are a normal thing. Sometimes acrobats, sometimes magicians, sometimes panhandlers. Crowds gather and the Securitrons watch and note if they should break up the gathering. There's a formula for it: the number of people multiplied by the emotion fueling the gathering, the balance of genders, and the amount of alcohol and chems present in their biological systems.

It's all really very scientific.

But shouting to announce another, continuing on, is very much Frowned Upon, because that is likely unwanted, and therefore, could ruin customers--er, visitors' time here in New Vegas.

It's with that in mind that two Mk IIs roll forward, soldier faces glaring out. "Sir, you cannot do that here. This is restricted area for peaceful bedlam only. There are no unwanted disruptions permitted."

[shortstraw]

The man sputters at the approaching Securitrons, looking as though he's ready to piss his pants. Though he could easily buy another set of pants with the money she'd handed him, it would be mildly inconvenient for everyone if piss became involved.

Thus, she steps in between man and deadly robots, hands up in a friendly gesture. "So sorry," Sarah chirps. "He's with me. I paid him to do that, see. Can't help it, you know. I'm a Very Important Person, and Very Important People need to be announced and pay someone else to cause disruptions."

"Think you're making it worse," the guy says nervously.

"Of course, I am." She smiles serenely beneath the plague doctor mask, eyes fixed on the Securitrons. "Now, can you be good soldiers and tell me where I can find your boss?"

[doubletap]

The level of threat peaks at the small individual stepping forward--it reads as inhuman, and above the range of limitations of a human lifespan by its cellular decay rate. This is enough to reconsider tactics. The question it poses influences the decision.

Protecting their city and territory is their primary function. Their secondary function is to prioritize any and all who hold platinum keycards in their possession. Running directly equal to these functions, with a cause and effect formula more complicated than the crowd dispersing one, is their function of complete secrecy. Of their power source, processing power, function, design, creator, and owner/innovator-- These things are not to be known. Either destroy themselves or the other, to keep that information.

Here is someone--something--looking for the last.

Their guns ratchet up. "This is your final warning. You are not welcome in New Vegas or the surrounding area. You will be given time to vacate the vicinity."

In the Lucky 38, Alex replaces the panel on House's super-computer, slapping it fondly. He leans back on his heels, rubbing grease over his eye. "Goddamnit if everything doesn't go wrong at once. Circuits blowing out enough to nearly wipe a motherboard. Thank fuck for backups." He rises up, groaning as his back cracks from the extended length of position. He powers on the large monitor and is rewarded by it turning on--and showing a security warning and an incoming call. He groans again, and accepts both, skimming over the real-time Securitron report as Raul's face fills a corner of the screen.

"Boss? Uh, got a problem with the Securitrons up front. They look like they're about to shoot up the people in the crowd."

"Just two," Alex mutters going through the validation files--for any attack made first, there was a required justification report that was submitted. Alex sees the threat they viewed--asking about him--and reads further for the dialogue that was recorded and copied to text. "...Fuck me."

"Boss?"

"All good, all good. Might be down two Securitrons, though," he mentions, walking towards the elevators.

[shortstraw]

Ah, a final warning. If it's just her, she might have a bit of fun letting them try to hit her. But then people would get hurt and cry and piss their pants, and that's just another inconvenience to add to the growing list.

Besides, she's kinda hurt. Not welcome in New Vegas... Guess that kid never wanted her to visit.

Ha.

She nods, her smile still set. "Alright, alright! I will vacate the vicinity." The woman turns, elbowing the guy as she walks past. "Get the hell away from me, kid, unless you're also looking to be perma-banned."

The guy takes off, giving a good ten feet before realizing that yes, he wasn't included in the final warning.

[doubletap]

The Securitrons roll backwards, allowing the creature its way, arms still held upward and wary. The man, once he leaves the creature's side is ignored, and then they wait.

Wait.

The doors to the Lucky 38 burst open, causing onlookers to the drama to murmur excitedly. Alex jogs out, passing between the Securitrons, who give a salute--he pats their shoulders as he passes them. "Relax, at ease. She's one of mine."

My people, my friends. My family.

He jogs up after her, reaching for her waist to pick her up. "Hey, lady, hold up!"

[goodfight]

The story's nothing new, not to Neil. Dogmeat died alone somewhere in the North, his tired old bones finally creaking to a stop. That should say everything. That should wrap all the important bits into a neat package, but it doesn't begin to describe how Neil feels. He supposes it doesn't matter.

When Alex had asked for the umpteenth time if Neil needed anything, if he was okay, it hadn't been difficult to tell the man to go away. To leave the younger be. He wanted air, space, and sky, and Alex was none of the above. Truth be told, he was all of those and more, but Neil hadn't known how to say it. He left for Goodsprings instead and climbed to the top of the tallest hill by the water source.

There, he sits with his legs dangling over the edge of a cliff, his eyes glued to the horizon. There, he gets his wanted air, space, and sky. He gets something more, even, as his hearing eventually catches the tail-end of quiet beeping.

"I can hear you, you know," Neil calls out to the air. "Why don't you come out and join me?"

[duraframe]

There had been a trial in the North. It was harder than most, ED-E thinks, because they had all gotten separated. Alex and Neil from each other, and later ED-E was taken from Alex. Taken and halfway dismantled, and ED-E thankfully doesn't remember any of that, only remembers waking to Alex's quiet voice gentling him and his hands, shaking, as they snapped his chassis back into place. They had been separated. And later, when they were close to all finding each other, they had been separated further.

Because Dogmeat had died.

It's not something he doesn't understand. He knows that some, like the scientist who hates him, would think that he can't comprehend death of old age especially, because ED-E will never die, not like that. Like Rex, Roxie, and the Think Tank, eventually ED-E will run down, but with no organic parts, his father's inventiveness in his power source, and Alex's stable upgrades, ED-E will probably be around for half a millennium.

It's not a happy thing, despite Alex's encouragements that ED-E will get to see how things change and move. It's not a happy thing for the reason he just learned--because he will be left alone, when his family is gone.

So when Alex told him to follow Neil, to look out for him, ED-E didn't need any more prompting. Being around Alex was hard right now, because ED-E thought of his shaking hands petting over him, looking for anything wrong, and ED-E thought of the lines around his eyes, and how he has only known him five years, and ED-E thought of his dad and wondered if he was gone like Dogmeat was. And ED-E remembered how Dogmeat loved Neil, how Alex loves Neil, and how ED-E likes Neil, and he remembers how Neil's dad is dead, and Neil's baby is dead, and now Neil's Dogmeat is gone, too.

Alex goes inside himself, like he always always does, but Neil goes away. And ED-E thinks Neil needs watching more.

When Neil calls for him, ED-E buzzes forward, around the boulder he was by. He hovers there expectantly, moving up and down slowly.

[goodfight]

There's the little stalker, the sad kid who looks like he lost a good friend. Neil turns his head to watch ED-E, dark circles under his dark eyes.

Finally, he pats the ground beside him, indicating an invitation.

[duraframe]

Neil pats the ground, and ED-E pauses a moment before slowly moving forward, lowering to hover a little above Neil's head level to the side. The man is silent but has the signs of lacks--food, nutrition, and liveliness. ED-E hesitates again.

Then beeps out a quiet rhythm. You need to eat something.

[goodfight]

ED-E takes him up on the invitation, and Neil finds himself not minding the proximity. He looks back out into the scenery, breathing in the crisp air. His ears catch you, need, and eat in the eyebot's beeps.

The man smiles, small and sad. "I know. I haven't been good," he answers. "Brought a mutfruit with me, but my stomach's not cooperating."

[duraframe]

In the last day and a half, ED-E had taken care of Neil.

Taking care of consisting of... forcing him to eat, sedating him to sleep, and making sure he found shelter and had ammunition in his gun--the last in which ED-E helped with by sharing his workbench function. Most of the items on the checklist he had made were marked off. All but one.

Human companionship. Touching. Kindness. Concern. Caring.

He makes a rude sound at the still protesting human, giving a quick trill of sounds Neil wouldn't be able to translate, but are easy enough to discern.

You need to do what I say and stop arguing, mister.

[goodfight]

It's been a weird day and a half.

Neil has eaten, slept, ducked into a broken down trailer during a dust storm, and made 20 gauge rounds on the insistence (and chemical interference) of one very stubborn little eyebot. ED-E has poked, prodded, and bullied the man into taking care of himself, step by fucking step, and no amount of protesting seems to budge the mother hen on his babysitting responsibilities.

But this-- This right here is crossing the line.

ED-E trills in a crescendo, sounds Neil can't even begin to put English to, but the man's gotten the gist by now. It isn't hard, therefore, to try and reason away the madness.

"Look, kid," he says, attempting calm. "Seriously. I know it may seem like a good idea, but folks don't want a hug from just anyone. Especially a guy like me. People aren't all touchy-feely like that."

[duraframe]

Especially a guy like Neil?

ED-E makes another rude sound, then makes the effort to slow down his communication. You're a great Neil. Alex loves you.

Thus, everyone should love Neil, as Alex is a perfect judge of character.

[goodfight]

Alex loves you.

Oh, Lord. Neil turns beet fucking red, and his resolve weakens just a bit-- Wait, no. This is still a horrible idea, Neil Park.

"...And I appreciate that. I really do, but not everyone is like Alex," he continues, flustered. "People protect their personal space, and you gotta be close to someone to be able to do that. My dad wouldn't even hug me once I got out of my--"

He swallows, pain touching his dark eyes.

"Never mind. Just... A hug ain't like a handshake."

[duraframe]

To the northwest, two individuals are approaching and would be in range shortly. Both are known, and one is linked to ED-E's internal systems. It takes everything in him not to burst out in gleeful beeping.

Instead, he focuses and remains serious.

One person, ED-E beeps willfully. Hold one person and you can do what you want going forward.

[doubletap]

Sarah is sad and lonely, and Alex should keep her with them, but he needs a moment. With ED-E's consent--and damn did his kid get protective of Neil the past few days--Alex is left with what he wanted.

What he's always wanted, for the past four years.

They'll catch up soon enough, one way or the other. For the time being, Alex reaches up to pet through Neil's hair, kissing his forehead. Nothing further.

[goodfight]

Let us take care of you, ED-E says, and the meaning warms him. It fills his mess of arteries and veins with blood and something unnamed. As the Vault Dweller and the eyebot head for Goodsprings proper, Neil looks on with wistful eyes.

When Alex moves in quiet affection, Neil finds the words to speak. "Every time I caught the cemetery out of the corner of my eye, I wanted to puke," he mumbles. "So yeah, I really don't like it."

[doubletap]

He could change the subject. Draw it back to simpler things. He has been without Neil for almost a week, and the delicacy in the air shifts things, like a bag full of broken glass.

However.

"Is it because you thought that represented me almost dying?" he wonders, quiet and low. "Because it's the opposite, Neil. This is where I took my first steps on starting to live."

[goodfight]

Those first steps might have led Alex Seattle Geer to a life. He might have risen from the grave like the fabled phoenix being reborn from its ashes, but Neil Park--

"That might be," he says blandly. "Everything might have changed for you there, but I don't have to like what it represents." Loss. The possible end of it, all on someone else's dime.

Neil wonders if he should stop talking. If he should enjoy the silence and the proximity. But he's mourning holes that aren't the ones made in the ground, and with Alex, he doesn't believe he will be able to stop.

[doubletap]

He quiets a moment, thinks it over. Looks over Neil's head to watch the sky. "Then why," he asks. "Why did you come here? To the town I was buried in and that your friends used to live in."

[duraframe]

In the forty minutes they had left the pair, Sarah the Vault Dweller had talked up the proprietor and bought large quantities of food. When ED-E had asked if that wasn't a bit too much, Sarah had cheekily replied that it probably wasn't enough. Therefore, ED-E hung out closely, keeping his processors split between watching her carefully for any shifting reactions and waiting for his primary family to return.

After those forty minutes, two heartbeats he recognizes stop in the alley outside the saloon, and after another moment, ED-E gets an incoming message.

We're good for now. When you can, come on out.

ED-E beeps to Sarah. Alex and Neil are outside.

[shortstraw]

Simplicity dictates the next forty minutes, and in that span of time, Sarah has procured enough food to feed a small army. That small army consists mostly of Neil Park, but if Alex Seattle Geer happens to feel peckish along the way, there should be food for him, too. Provided that the younger boy's appetite does not return in full force.

She's paying Trudy when ED-E alerts her to an update, one that has the old woman grinning beneath her mask. "Awesome possum," she gives, laying down the last of the caps on the counter. "Why don't you lead the way, kiddo?"

After a proper goodbye, they move to the alley between the saloon and the general store, toward the pair of misfit lovers standing together. Upon approach, she jingles a Vault-Tec lunchbox in Neil's direction. "I've bought enough to make ten caravan lunches for you. Be afraid."

[duraframe]

ED-E jolts forward when he sees them, buzzing happily around Alex before hovering behind Neil protectively. Everything okay? he beeps to Neil.

After a moment, he whistles to Alex, a high-pitched quick trill of sound that broken down means basically: What is the status? Any problems? What needs to be watched out for?

[doubletap]

After a bit more quiet cuddling and murmuring squishy things to each other, they decided to go gather the other two. Alex, correctly reading that Neil probably didn't want to be around people, pulled Neil into the alley next to the saloon, between the two workbenches. He typed up a message to ED-E on his PimpBoy, then drapes his arm over Neil's shoulders casually, allowing closeness if he wanted to come closer.

The excited beeping is their first warning. ED-E dances around like it's been weeks instead of not even an hour, and after asking Neil a question, makes a more complicated sound to Alex. So it's mommy and daddy taking care of baby Neil, then?

Alex wets his lips, then whistles a short reply. All clear. No problems. Stay on active watch.

Sarah shakes a lunchbox, and Alex raises an eyebrow. "Ever tried the trailmix they make out here?"

[goodfight]

They pass the time whispering sweet nothings with more meaning than half the books Neil's read lately. At the end of things, they move onto Goodsprings with the intent to pick up an eyebot and an old lady. Before Neil can begin picking apart the methods to approach Trudy and other patrons at the Prospector Saloon, Alex pulls him into the empty alley, draping an arm over his shoulders.

By the time ED-E and Sarah approach, Neil is close enough to Alex to rest his head on the man's shoulder, a shy expression lingering on his face. When the eyebot excitedly hovers between them, a question to Neil and something more complicated to Alex, the younger man simply smiles. "Everything's okay." Not everything, of course, but there's enough to be okay about.

Sarah, of course, threatens him with more food (Ten caravan lunches? Sheesh.) as Alex mentions the delicious snake that is the Mojave trail mix. Keeping quiet, Neil steps forward and takes the jingling lunchbox.