Like a raging bighorner on the cusp of a rampage, Alex holsters his weapon to grab another at his shoulder, the scoped level-action rifle with something of a story (or so Neil assumes). There's a dangerous expression on his lover/friend/complication's face, and if this wasn't aimed at an already terrified guy, Neil might have prepared to watch a beautiful disaster.

As the intruder's from Rivet City and, well, very much terrified, Neil has the obligation to stop the disaster before it starts.

He reaches to hook Alex's arm with his own, using his unwieldy strength to keep it (and the owner) in place. "Dude, wait," he says, exasperated. "Is that really necessary? He looks like he's going to shit his own pants."