A weight forms in the pit of his stomach, born out of memories and dreams. Alex tells Neil that he can choose anything, and somewhere inside of him, in the darkest corner of his existence, Neil responds. He believes that to be true. Yes, he can move in ways many can't.
He doesn't know if he should. If he should be allowed to grasp a better life when so many others here cannot. Didn't he once tell Alex that he's responsible for the changes in the Capital Wasteland? Didn't he come here to fix the pieces still remaining?
But it hadn't worked out. His memories had proven false. His expectations, virtually worthless. The Capital Wasteland was never his. It's a place that managed along just fine without him, without knowledge of him, and all the pieces he'd hoped to reassemble are just gone because that time, nearly five years prior, was never about his own damn life.
Neil remembers, then. His worthlessness. It quiets him; it smooths out the complexities in his expression. He looks at Alex as if lost, not knowing where to go, before looking away to the ceiling.
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He doesn't know if he should. If he should be allowed to grasp a better life when so many others here cannot. Didn't he once tell Alex that he's responsible for the changes in the Capital Wasteland? Didn't he come here to fix the pieces still remaining?
But it hadn't worked out. His memories had proven false. His expectations, virtually worthless. The Capital Wasteland was never his. It's a place that managed along just fine without him, without knowledge of him, and all the pieces he'd hoped to reassemble are just gone because that time, nearly five years prior, was never about his own damn life.
Neil remembers, then. His worthlessness. It quiets him; it smooths out the complexities in his expression. He looks at Alex as if lost, not knowing where to go, before looking away to the ceiling.