You're hurting, ED-E repeats, and Neil feels like he's dying. He hurts like something cut a hole in him, much larger than that jagged hole left by a ferryman, and it's hell trying to live with that emptiness. Live with that guilt.

You see, the business up in the North had come with a few complications. The four had been separated from each other. ED-E had been dismantled and subsequently put back together, details Neil wisely chose not to ask for, and when the last bit came up on the to-do list, Neil had left Dogmeat back at camp. Dogmeat, somewhat stiff from age and yet seemingly energetic, had been still when they had returned. Still enough for them to think he'd fallen into deep sleep.

It wasn't until Neil had tried to rouse him that they found that he had fallen into something more permanent. And Dogmeat had been all alone when it happened, when Neil had promised to be his companion to the bitter end.

Here, ED-E tells Neil that he doesn't have to talk. That Alex can understand. Lack stagnates within him, threatening to consume, and the man simply nods. He continues to watch the dying light in silence, a hand gripping his shirt and the other holding a half-eaten candied apple.