His person pulls him closer, pressing lips to his forehead, and Neil thinks he's home. He feels emptier, lonelier, and his perception of self twists more and more beyond recognition, but he is here. With Alex.

Enough. It is enough.

"And friends who aren't there." He swallows down the laughter that bubbles upward, trying to behave. "There are cazadors to the north. A creepy-ass cemetery to the northeast. They have a saloon, a general store, and quaint Pre-War houses. People raise bighorners and crops here. It's a nice place." More kind than not.