the story in which Alex Seattle Geer is right for hating enclosed spaces,

[doubletap]

and Neil Park is blamed for his knowledge of vaults.

---

Terminal Entries:

1st Floor, Vault Entry-Room Computer:
- Data Entry 1: Year 20XX, Month XX; There's no escape.
- Holotape Entry 1: Y#4@ SDhig^8705 H98 [data corrupted]; This is hell and I want out of it.

1st Floor, Cafeteria Luncheon:
- Holotape Entry 2: Private Recording; I've had better?

1st Floor, Cafeteria Supply Room:
- Inventory List: Inventory List; A list of food....
- Data Entry 2: Shift Notes; Maybe I should tear the walls down.

1st Floor, Broken Cave:
- Data Entry 3: Preparations; Everything's fine.
- Data Entry 4: Near the End; I'll tell you the truth, but I won't give up my soul.
- Data Entry 5: Finally, the End is at Hand.; This is far enough.

1st Floor, Office:
- Data Entry 6: Vault-Wide Public Service Announcement; Get back to work everyone.
- Data Entry 7: Locked Administrative Reply; You're reaching for straws.

1st Floor, Administrative Secretary's Office:
- Data Entry 8: Drama Hoes; It is sort of funny that people aren't able to lie, though.
- Holotape Entry 3: Bill Self-Log; Byron's access still works everywhere.

Comments

[doubletap]

Alex snorts, amusement covering the fluster as he looks to the side, smiling slightly. "Coulda fooled me," he mutters lightly, dropping the MRE on the bed next to Neil.

Then the man promptly reaches to peel off his upper layers of clothes until bare muscle is all that's left.

[goodfight]

Neil makes a sound before tearing into the two-hundred-year-old Salisbury Steak with reckless abandon. His stomach has been growling the entire 24 hours, even after eating two cans of Pork N' Beans, a stick of crispy squirrel bits, three boxes of Potato Crisps someone had hidden away a long time ago, and leftover brahmin steak. Normally, that should be more than enough for the day, but either Vault 7 or his body is having an issue with metabolism as the latter demands nutrition every hour, on the hour.

He's nearly finished when the young man notes Alex and his lack of shirt. Neil stares at the skin, the scars, and the muscles beneath it all with his mouth hanging ridiculously open, food hovering near his lips.

"Uh."

[doubletap]

Alex can't help the grin. "Gimme a sec, Neil."

Not kid. Huh. He's been using his name more and more here.

Alex heads to the leaking pipe, ducking his head under it and scrubbing for a good five minutes until the water runs clear instead of ash and grime. He tugs a rag from one of their packs, ruffling through his hair until it's at least not dripping. Damp and pressed down, but it's his hair, off-white and a stark difference from the norm.

"There," he says, tossing the rag to the side. "This is how I look now."

[goodfight]

At the sound of his name, Neil neither questions nor protests. He momentarily ceases eating, however, to watch Alex use the leaking pipe to more or less wash his hair. When the man returns, Neil notes the transition from dull brown to off-white and cants his head at the contrast being shown.

"So this is the Marie Antoinette syndrome," he comments quietly. "Huh. You look pretty neat, actually, with light hair."

[doubletap]

"I look pretty recognizable, is how I look," he corrects, dropping down on the bed next to Neil and opening the MRE, starting on the food. "It's uncomfortable."

[goodfight]

"You are freakishly tall," Neil continues, shifting to allow Alex more room. "Combine your height with the hair... I can see why people would remember you by appearance alone."

[doubletap]

He leans a shoulder against the kid companionably. "You're just short."

[goodfight]

Oh, no. "No. Not short." He makes a face, annoyed at the comment, though his eyes grow warm at the contact. "I am average as average can be. "

[doubletap]

He throws the empty food pack to the ground, then turns to wrap an arm around Neil's torso, pressing his face into the kid's shoulder. "These aren't questions, you know."

[goodfight]

These are not questions, and they're not exactly curled up, but Neil sets down his unfinished packet all the same. His other hand finds the fine strands of Alex's light hair and begins a slow petting motion. "Right," he murmurs.

His stupid questions. There is one in particular that relates to this. "You told me once House's delivery is the reason you got shot in the head." Neil had been drunk during that slip, but it seems the admission stuck. "What exactly happened?"

[doubletap]

Alex makes a disgruntled noise, despite his heart jumping in his chest at the petting. He pushes Neil lightly, making him lay, then curls tight to the side despite his own size. As if he were the younger, Alex rests his head on Neil's shoulder, draping an arm around him.

"The Platinum Chip," is his answer; quiet. "The final piece to House's Vegas, the Lucky 38 mainframe, and the Securitron upgrades. After two-hundred years, he got his hands on it, and was having it delivered."

[goodfight]

Alex has them lay like the lovers they mostly are, and in spite (or because) of the vulnerability shown, Neil continues moving his fingers lightly over the other man's hair and the skin on his neck. There is a quiet in the air, one that Neil can accept.

"Someone wanted his package, I take it." Enough to try and put Alex in the ground.

[doubletap]

Neil pets him like they are close, like they love each other, and Alex could stay here forever. He can speak on this because of this contact, and he snuggles closer, holds tighter. Laughs once.

"Yeah," he says. "An asshole who thought he could take over House's business. The idiot was actually House's protege at some point, and fuck if both of them didn't deserve each other." Yeah, just--

"He told me before he shot me, bound and gagged on the fucking ground," and he doesn't mean to continue, he really doesn't, but it's in his mind now, bright and shining. "'The game was rigged from the start.'"

That fucking voice that he can't get away from. Like Domino's singing and Ulysses's explanations and the way Graham's hands kept moving like if he stopped he would shatter--

Yeah. Just like that.

[goodfight]

How the words unfold reminds Neil of that tale about the Sierra Madre. That tiny slip regarding Elijah and his shitty bomb collars that had the man seething in disbelief and rage beneath that haze from losing brain matter, except here, the talk of attempted murder calms him. It reminds him that Alex is in his arms, still breathing. Still very much alive.

Neil breathes in and out, mind wondering how that idiot died. Because of course, he would have fucking died.

Unwavering in his affection, voice steady and soft, Neil continues, "You said Doc Mitchell patched you up, but I've seen your scar." That bullet wound. "You survived what should have been instant death, surgeon or no surgeon." Pretty damn lucky, maybe.

"Even if it meant you lost some things, I'm glad you're up and walking." As opposed to decomposing on the desert sand.

[doubletap]

Lost some things. That's one way to put it.

But the words Neil uses reminds him of other things, and it's that that Alex turns to. "Well, Mobius and the rest made it seem that I had some kind of special brain condition. Those people that can survive a head injury because those functions move to other parts of the brain. I was still a little shaky until they actually sealed over the scar on my brain. Then I was just a little shaky with all the metal in me."

...Ah. Truth vaults.

"...I'm going to need to explain some of that. Aren't I?"

[goodfight]

He follows, and he doesn't. Regardless, Neil lets out a breathy chuckle, finding comfort in Alex rambling for a change.

"Please," he tells him, "And not just because you're boning me, mind you. I would also like clarification for science." If what this Mobius et al. proposed proves true, Alex Seattle Geer is a bit more of an anomalous organism than he already is.

Besides, the talk of metal being in the other is kinda making Neil antsy.

[doubletap]

Alex lifts his head and gives a charming smile, the kind of a boy who caught a frog. "The science stuff you can ask the guys about. I'll take you there...once I make sure they're a little more stable. But the rest...."

Alex sits up again, fingers slipping into his own hair until he feels the light ridge of a scar line. "There's not much left because laser sealing but..." He lifts the hair in places, revealing a perfect circle around the top of his cranium. As if one had had their skull opened. "Brain was taken out for a awhile. Tesla coils were put in instead. Most people that happens to become drooling serial killers--I kept most of myself. Apparently because my brain adapted and sent signals to the coils. Which was the point of the original experiment."

He taps the center of his chest, where a circular white scar rests, as light as the other. "And because Dala was rambunctious, she took my heart as well. Replaced it with a valve." He turns, back facing Neil. He reaches to touch another light scar, running the length of his back. "Took my spine. Replaced it with some kind of titanium tech. All was fine and dandy, but I was happy to get my organs get put back where they belong."

Still with his back facing Neil, he moves his hand up, lifting the bottom of his hair up to reveal a more obvious scar, circular again and moving upward toward the top of his hair. "So after getting shot twice, getting a bomb collar, and having my brain removed, I decided to take a preemptive step. Steel enforced skull."

[goodfight]

...Neil has to remember that this is a truth vault, and the truth in this world isn't as straightforward as a simple A to B. Yes, Alex can probably walk around as himself with only Tesla coils in his head. Yes, he had some kind of major organ transplant surgery going on with scars as evidence. Yes, it all sounds so fucked up, but--

But if Neil Park can be the human captain of a deadly alien spaceship, Alex Seattle Geer can be a cyborg, questionable circumstances or no.

Neil blinks up at the older man, shivering once before chancing speech. "Is that why you weigh like a million pounds?" he croaks.

[doubletap]

...Neil isn't looking so good, but he's not doubting him outright either. Alex turns back, petting a hand against Neil's chest. "Hey," he says gently. "I'm probably only about three hundred pounds.

"I have some augmentation. Mostly the skeletal and circulatory systems. Besides the implants from Usanagi. Most of my bones have some kind of metal in them, makes it harder to cripple any limbs. Heart has some new filters and valves, along with a prototype nanomite fluid that integrates with my blood to keep out toxins and promote healing. All good stuff. All useful."

Nothing weirder than the organs being removed. He's nervous suddenly, inexplicably. That this is too weird for Neil. "...Tried to tell you before," he mutters helplessly.

[goodfight]

It clicks in, this last piece of the puzzle, and Neil laughs. He shifts upward to lean on his elbows, dark eyes holding excitement and wonder. One of his hands goes to touch the one at his chest.

"So you're a cyborg." Every single augmentation explains a shitload of aspects surrounding Alex. "No wonder it hurts like hell when you conk your head against mine. Why didn't you just tell me?"

[doubletap]

A light mix of frustration and confusion filters through his expression, nullified somewhat by the hand touching his. The laugh echoing in his ears.

"I did tell you," he mutters quietly. "Said I had my organs removed. Don't know what a cyborg is, but I didn't try to hide this part."

[goodfight]

Ah, right. Alex has said that, but with the lack of trust and a second source, Neil had simply dismissed it as a joke. Clearly, that was the incorrect choice.

He sits up to wrap his arms around the bigger guy in a hug. "Sorry," he murmurs. "When you told me, I didn't know exactly what you meant. And a cyborg is short for cybernetic organism, a living thing with both organic and biomechatronic parts. Rex is a cyborg, for instance."

[doubletap]

Neil sits to hug him and Alex didn't expect it at all.

Even with the loving gesture, the drawn-out emotional talks, the easy affection that Neil gives shocks him to his core, and he freezes, eyes filling from something unknown. "Shoulda thought that, I guess," he murmurs unhappily. "Guess me and the pup got some in common."

[goodfight]

The embrace affects Alex in a way that sticks in Neil's mind, and the hands at the older man's back turn to petting.

"Nothing wrong with that," he says. "It's pretty freakin' cool, actually. Not many humans are compatible with cybernetic parts, and you've managed the top three: the brain, the heart, and the spine."

A pause. "You're an interesting guy, Alex Seattle Geer."

[doubletap]

The compliment shifts something inside of him, and he blinks back wet, uncomfortable. "...What's with the sudden compliments?"

When it's the last thing he expects from Neil Park.