He hasn't forgotten, but it's not enough. There's a disconnection felt from the other man, something lost in translation, and Neil doesn't have the words. Doesn't have the sentiments to give Alex.

Another does, however. And time, as they say, moves on, and they move forward. With help, he is able to stand. Neil's grateful, and he cannot say.

Dogmeat pads over, silent as the grave, to nudge his cold nose against his master's shin. Neil stays as is, sandwiched between two, wavering on his feet. Alex speaks, and Neil--

"Less of a burden on you like this." He smiles, the gesture mirthless. "I think."