the pier.

[doubletap]

Let him just say it now--the kid had a lot of problems.

I mean, not really a surprise or anything--Alex had found him dried out in a desert, for crying out loud--but god damn.

Let’s recap.

Alex Seattle Geer found himself in love with a Vault brat from the Capital Wasteland with a daddy complex the size of Hoover Dam. Said kid loves him back--sometimes. Said kid would probably rather put another bullet between Alex’s eyes rather than spend time with him, and didn’t this just go to show it. Neil leaves to check up a rumor, said he’d be back shortly--shortly became two days and by then Dogmeat was back, meaning Neil took off somewhere he was worried the dog would get hurt at. Two days turn into two weeks and counting, and by then, Alex has tracked Neil’s steps, found the fucking pier, the fucking tool of a woman looking for her child, and all of the pieces are too easily placed.

Neil left for Point Lookout. And Alex, ED-E, and Dogmeat are left hanging in the wind.

Alex has been fucking camping on the dirty sand and shit next to that pier, waiting for that stupid kid to come back on that stupid ferry the woman told him about. Tobar the fucking Ferryman, and Alex feels like shooting the asshole just for submitting to Neil’s request. Probably not the guy’s fault, but-- Hell. Yeah. He didn’t traipse all over the goddamn country just to be left in the dust. Is the kid even coming back? Who fucking knows.

Alex will just.

Wait here.

Until Neil comes back.

Yeah, that’s not pathetic at all.

Comments

[doubletap]

"Elijah was the guy."

Neil has actually probably heard him mentioned. Either from random NCR still hanging around, talking about HELIOS One, or if Neil ran into any Brotherhood survivors, or even... Veronica. Her mentor, loving and supportive, who started to lose his way. Alex would let her speak, but look away.

Back to Brotherhood bullshit. Back to the reasons Alex can't stay still.

[goodfight]

Elijah. Elijah... The name sounds familiar, but it's not enough to jog his memory into remembrance.

Actually. Old Lady Gibson had talked about that solar power plant nearby: HELIOS One. They had discussed its brief foray between the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel some years prior, and highly interested, Neil had questioned some of the NCR troops stationed at its entrance.

There, he had learned the name of the Elder who began the occupation of HELIOS One.

"Elder Elijah?" Of the Mojave chapter of the Brotherhood of Steel.

[doubletap]

The expression--the smile--Alex wears worsens. If one can read it, it can almost be seen as something else: Something rarer. Because Alex Seattle Geer rarely cares about something enough to inspire hate.

But Alex hates that man.

"One and the same."

[goodfight]

There's something in Alex's mien, and without thinking, Neil moves the hand that had shifted down to the other's shoulder up to dark hair. There, he stays, fingertips touching the strands.

"I thought he was dead." Either from the occupation, the kiss of destruction Alex had left for that bunker, or something else together-- Neil had assumed there hadn't been more to that man.

[doubletap]

The touch startles him out of the past, and he blinks, moves his hand back up to Neil's--touches skin, then lowers his hand again.

He shifts up to sit. Half wishes he was a smoker at the moment. Motioning at the bed and wall, he inclines his chin. "Shift a bit for me."

[goodfight]

The movement surprises him. The request more so. Not quite understanding the end result, Neil shifts as asked, pain pulsing in his skull each degree he elevates his head in the process.

He then looks up at the other man, wondering where he's supposed to ultimately settle.

[doubletap]

Alex crawls into the space Neil vacated, then gently pulls Neil's shoulders down to rest on Alex's thighs. Poor kid. He wishes they had better pain meds than what they got.

He drops a hand onto Neil's bare chest and settles the other one onto the ends of his hair, moving slightly. "...This okay?"

[goodfight]

Where he eventually settles is on Alex's lap. It isn't a mattress or a bundle of clothes, but it is something known. The elevation's not too bad, either. Neil just wishes his head would cease its pounding.

The other slips a hand against Neil's chest and the tips of his hair, causing the younger man to exhale slowly. The question sounds foreign from a man who typically does what he wants to, regardless of consequences, but Neil isn't in the mood for observations. "It's fine."

[doubletap]

Thus, with Neil answering, Alex goes back to the kid's question. "He's dead now," he answers grimly, then decides he could stand to be less dramatic. He pets through Neil's hair carefully.

"...Decided that because they lost HELIOS, there needed to be some drastic changes. He went to all kinds of places, looking for old world answers." Places like the Big Empty, and eventually, the Sierra Madre.

Without realizing it, Alex had slipped back into the speech that only he and another courier used: Old world answers. Old world values.

"Long story short, his 'answers' ended up being genocide." A call-back to that conversation in Novac again. "Of the whole Mojave, California, the West... A restart with Elijah at the head of things. To fix all the problems. To... 'begin again.'" He smiles, sickly, at the phrase. "This, of course, included experimentation on living souls, bomb collars, mental torture, ruining people not involved, and, oh yeah--"

Alex's fingers drummed a short beat on Neil's chest. "Kidnapping and blackmailing a group of people to break into the impenetrable vault. The Sierra Madre."

He pauses. Continues. "Sure. Of course we got in. Not easily and not without losses. But in the end-- He got what he wanted. He got that vault. And I made sure he stayed in it."

[goodfight]

'Genocide' speaks of Novac once more, and Neil now understands the Elder mentioned then is the aforementioned Elijah. Elijah, who took extreme means for an extreme end, and Alex had been part of that madness. Somewhere, beneath the surrealism, beneath the possibility of disbelief, it aches to hear. To know there was such a hardship in this man's life.

To see it written clearly on Alex's face.

His head still hurts, and his mouth is bone-dry, but Neil pushes through to ask more questions. Specifically, one question. "What did that vault have that he wanted?"

What could a single place hold that a man might be possessed to believe it would cleanse the world? A nuke? The plague? What?

[doubletap]

What a question. Alex stares at the opposite wall. "You'd think... weapons, right? And you'd only be half-right. Because of course that place had shit like that in spades. Holograms that couldn't be harmed but could easily kill--an invulnerable army. Suits that covered and protected you--but would keep your body moving and fighting, even after death. The Cloud--"

He pauses. Swallows. "Poison. Like you've never seen. Radioactive waste doesn't come close. It's pure technology. Created." Created by the very place he now owns. Is responsible for. "And it would kill everything and anything if it's duplicated. And let's not forget the legend of the gold itself--enough to buy whatever you needed to take out who you saw as enemies.

"But Neil," Alex says in a strange tone. "What he needed was past that. Weapons, mass destruction, one and all, but what he fucking wanted was--"

He swallows. Smiles. "Vending machines." The words are choppy, bit out. "The last inspired invention of the old world. You could put anything into them--anything--and they would give you anything in return. Whatever you wanted. Food, ammo, clothes, bit and bobbles and fucking dreams. He wanted to wipe out the world. And then, when it came back, he wanted to nurture it. Give people whatever they wanted--whatever they needed. He wanted to make sure people wouldn't go down those paths again." The paths that led to the old world--and now the new.

It's sick. Wrong. And it's a side step away from Alex. Destruction instead of a want for creation-- And yet. Yet.

Isn't it Alex. Isn't Alex the one who ended up destroying something he created? A new world in itself.

...He feels sick.

[goodfight]

The story's a picturesque modern-day fairy tale. Not the painted scenes with characters played by good-looking holostars, but from the books. From a time long before bombs were a mere whisper in the wind. This is akin to stories of stepmothers poisoning their stepdaughters, of a girl and her grandmother being eaten by a wolf. Of death and a sense of fatalism.

There is the sense that it's still playing a part somewhere in Alex's life, this story of holograms. This record of the walking dead, a cloud of poison, and infinite possibilities. And the tone in the other man's voice and the expression on his face only serve to solidify that sense.

Quietly, Neil reaches to touch the hand on his chest. To comfort or to remind, he doesn't know himself.

[doubletap]

A touch on his hand brings him to the current time. To Neil on his thighs and a reminder of things that happened in the Mojave. He takes his hand from Neil's hair, uses it to smooth down his own. He laughs weakly. "...I don't know what I was thinking. I just wanted you to know that I understand, I guess. I didn't sleep for a week and then slept like the dead after. Left that place with more addictions than I could count. But I left it. I did leave it."

Even if it wouldn't leave him.

"But I forgot," he tries for lightness and doesn't quite succeed. "I shouldn't tell you stories of my past. You'll just think I'm lying to you more." Like you did before. "It makes sense. No one would believe--"

What I went through.

"...Any of that," he finishes quietly.

[goodfight]

Ah. This is familiar. This is a reflection in a different light, coming from another mirror. There perhaps does not exist a way for Neil to explain that. To express that to another man's satisfaction.

It hardly matters, though. That kind of thing, regardless of the form, cannot be adequately compared. Therefore, he will focus on something else-- He will address the other statements given.

"I don't think you're lying to me." Belief exists in a place that does not have a time or a name, but lies have no place in this moment. In this room. His hand drops to the space beside him. "There's nothing like that here."

There is only evidence to the contrary. No one could possibly lie when they talk and look like Alex Seattle Geer does right now.

[doubletap]

There's no light laughter or the expected response: Well, obviously--or something like that. In this moment in time, Alex does not know how to react.

In complete opposition to a lot of the time Alex spends with Neil Park, here, he feels immensely young.

"--Sorry," he blurts out, staring at the door nearby. "I'm being strange."

[goodfight]

Neil blinks at the apology, at the imbalance Alex is displaying. Slowly, he raises a hand to lightly poke an index finger against the other man's cheek.

"You're the last person in the world who should apologize to me," he says with exasperation. "Especially about being strange."

[doubletap]

He understands he's off-balance. Understands he needs to get back to himself because this--

What if--

He smiles, and it's weak, but the dead expression is gone from his eyes. "I would actually think that the strange part would be completely spot-on," he quips. "Really. Think about it."

About something like that instead of what slipped through Alex's mind and left him colder than he would have thought.



What if this makes him leave me?

[goodfight]

It's gone. In a sense, Alex returns to being what he typically does best, and somehow, Neil doesn't think it's himself. But that is simply filed and stored away. Neil isn't going to dig deep into something that might leave worse wounds.

Instead, he drops his hand, his expression decidedly benign. "Thought about it," he gives. "Also remembered everyone's weird. Not really convinced. Apology deemed unnecessary."

[doubletap]

He keeps the smile. It starts to border on something more genuine. "Are we not keeping to complete sentences now?" he wonders. He pokes Neil's cheek in turn, then traces a finger down Neil's jaw, then over to brush against his lower lip.

"Thanks, then," he says sincerely. "For listening to me when you didn't have to."

[goodfight]

The smile brings a kind of relief, and Neil breathes out more evenly. "It's kinda fun cutting down on words," he replies. The temptation to mouth the finger is held in; instead, Neil offers a smile of his own.

"You did keep my mind off the present." Away from himself--pain, fever, circumstances, everything. Allowed more focus and calm. "I hope talking helped." As opposed to harming more.

[doubletap]

The smile Neil only shows when drunk or distractedly speaking about science shows without either of the two triggers. Alex blinks; confused, pleased, and both easily seen on his face. He leans down, curls over Neil, and kisses him delicately, waiting for reciprocation before straightening again.

"All right," he says, infinitely more calmer suddenly. "FAQ time. You're bound to a sick bed, so you get to ask some questions about all of that."

[goodfight]

There are lips pressing close and a kiss to return. Neil does so with a fragility he rarely reveals, his hands lightly curling against the mattress. The offer to open things up for questioning normalizes him, despite a hesitation hanging overhead. The concern that he might cross a line.

Then let him start simply. "The vending machines," he begins. "How do they work?"

[doubletap]

Neil kisses him back with a gentleness Alex rarely feels from him, and where another would call attention to it, Alex is only appreciative of the fact. He smiles at Neil, honestly, and slips his hand back into his hair.

"You had to start with that," he gives. "I have no fucking idea, to be honest. It was supposed to be last gen, old world tech. Supposed to be fitted out for everywhere to deal with the bombs and the fallout. A good fucking idea; too little, too late. Not enough funding," he added, humorlessly. "People didn't think it'd be a priority. Imagine if we had those scattered through the US."

[goodfight]

That's pretty much what Neil figured in regard to the logistics. If a Brotherhood of Steel Elder was looking to unlock its secrets by infiltrating an impenetrable vault, chances are no one has ever found out the specifics of that particular tech. Ah, well. It was worth a try.

"Pre-War logic, you know," says Neil. "The more useful a thing, the less funding it gets." He pauses. "But I also meant how do you get stuff out of them? Do you pay with Pre-War money? Does it really have everything? Like everything-everything?"

[doubletap]

Ah, this is slightly easier. "Chips," he says with some humor. "C'mon, kid, you should have known to guess that one."

That a place in this area would run on casinos.

"They probably weren't all going to be like that, but the man who bought them up changed it to that so he could control the tide. So you spend money at the casino... win chips... and get whatever you desire. Food, clothes, ammo, useless junk. It couldn't make rare stuff, or really big stuff. But Stimpacks, chems, even training manuals and magazines... Everything you could honestly need at the end of the old world."