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]

It's hard to keep going after that. Keep sorting and inventorying, but he does it, because he needs to stop being such a failure at fucking life and keep them stocked at least. And not just in ammunition.

He's mostly packed everything back up when he comes across the holotapes. Remembers them in the mess when Neil's pack had slipped from the table in the medroom, the clatter they had made on the floor. Neil's? Alex wonders, or was it something already there? Wouldn't the kid have caught it if so? Regardless, it's habitual by now, the popping in of holotapes to download their material.

...He sees Project Purity Journal: Entry 7 on the screen, and feels like his day is going to become a lot worse. Pushing play becomes inevitable.

"I am at a loss. My beloved wife is gone. In her place is my son, small and helpless. As much as this place means to me... As much as it meant to Catherine, this is no place for an infant. Especially an infant without his mother."

...It's annoying. Annoying but not horrible. Alex guesses the worst thing to come of this, in all honesty, is hearing that bastard's self-righteous voice. Oh, man, so sorry your son was born and you need to look after him. So horrible. Such a shitty roll of fate.

Yeah, right.

He pops in the second one (Entry 8), expecting much of the same. He is both right and wrong.

"It's time to go. The project was in trouble before, both internally and externally. Progress has come to a halt, both because our re-calculations have gotten us nowhere, and because the mutant attacks occur several times a day. I regret that it has come to this. I know that if I leave, our work may come to an end. Madison has never been on the best of terms with the Brotherhood; aside from Scribe Rothchild, she'll tolerate none of them. If she's the one dealing with them, who knows what will happen. It breaks my heart to go, but I must put the needs of my child before my own."

Alex can detail why these entries are wrong; awful, even. There's aspects from the Brotherhood to the fact of the damn GECK-destroying water project in general, but the majority of it has to do with the way this asshole--self-righteous, self-indulgent, victim complex asshole--pretends to give a damn about his son while he bitches about how his kid ruined him staying to work at his shitty project. There were other options involved, the first of which not being a shitty cocksucker about everything, but as that's too much to ask, actually caring about your child and not resenting him for fucking living--

God damn. Had Neil heard these? Or fuck, numbers seven and eight-- More in the fucking series like these? No fucking wonder the kid had a complex. Especially if the man said similar things while he was living as well. A fucking ambitious selfish narcissist. Best fucking thing in the world.

To shoot in the head, that is. Alex wishes he could have saved his kid a lot of misery earlier on. Because these two minutes of talking has already shown Alex a good deal of James Park's character-- And that his hatred for the dead man is still well-founded.

[goodfight]

Somewhere in that rest, that darkness encompassing his mind, Neil murmurs incoherency. He breathes in the air before mumbling an exhale, enough for his precious child to raise his head in curiosity.

"Bobble...head..."

Dogmeat watches intently, waiting to see if this will prompt his master to waking. When nothing occurs, the creature lays back down. His eyes again close.

[doubletap]

In time, Alex finishes his inventory. Everything is packed up and ED-E looks at him expectantly. "I know," he answers quietly, but only takes movements to refill the water bottles from the second pool, and pick up everything to leave at the mouth of the hall their room is in. Alex just wants to go in it, and curl up with Neil again, but damn if the kid doesn't need his rest.

And Alex needs time away from Neil to reorganize his mind on what he's doing next. Checking on the guys upstairs is a great excuse for that.

But a short one, apparently. Ellis and the Rivet guards are competent guys, and despite Ellis banning Drew from helping (there was probably a story in that, fire and brimstone and all the rest), they were getting through his checks along with their regular maintenance. Alex's gear was big on Ellis, sure, but it wasn't comedic by the fact of the adjustments the man had made.

In the end, Alex just offers an update, theorizes that Neil will be up and around in a day or so, and with good feelings all around (or something), he trods back downstairs.

There's more than a couple pairs of eyes on him, likely part for the off way he's acting along with the fact that he's barricading himself in with Neil for days, when most would more than likely take breaks in the fresh (-ish..) air outside from time to time. Likely one or two also would note the irregularity present, of an unrelated man solely focused to the point of protective murder on another man. Maybe. Maybe.

Alex doesn't see it. Doesn't notice the four above's questioning looks, because he's distracted. Pissed off and upset, and wanting to kill something and to fuck something and to fucking just cuddle his kid like a woman which is messed up--

But it's what's there. Alex can't have Neil, not now, not like he wants, and he doesn't know if he'll be able to have him again, in all honesty. Once Neil knows, he might not want....

And what would Alex do, then? With a partner who honestly doesn't want sex, not just fighting it because it's irregular. He doesn't know. Doesn't know and can't think about it. And the easiest thing to do about it is to lie and never say a word, but Alex has to speak it soon, because the kid can't go without knowing and he can't stand keeping it from Neil, and he doesn't want the kid to realize it one day by himself and feel fucking alone and messed up over it--

God. Alex is a mess. A complete mess again. He stops before entering the room, sits down against the wall next to the door and leans his head back against the wall, his Survivialist Rifle an old friend in his lap. ED-E watches him and Alex thinks to explain--

Can't explain things like that. Like this. God, there's no good way to say it.

[goodfight]

It happens to be the murmured word, more than his recovering strength that sparks images to life. A broad brush paints against the black of his mind, revealing a murky fog creeping over the dirty waters. Stretched before his sleeping eyes is a riverboat docked against a pier. The Duchess Gambit.

Details in dreams. They're never a good sign, but Neil Park hasn't a choice right now. Right here.

It is Nadine who greets him at the foot of the pier, wide smiles and smug satisfaction painted on her face. She steps toward Neil excitedly, and it's here he finally notices. The ferryman, Tobar, is nowhere to be seen.

"Hey, just in time!" she exclaims. "Found out who went rooting around in our skulls, and you'll never guess who it was!"

There's definitive progress, for once, something Neil sorely misses. His dark eyes widen, ears perking in heavy interest. The empty space in his head thrums in want.

She responds to that, this Nadine. She crosses her arms across her chest as her smile shows teeth. "As a totally unrelated hint, I'm in charge of his boat now!"

Neil blinks, not fully understanding. "Wait, Tobar did it?"

"Yeah, looks like it," she responds. "When the Tribals would send someone to the swamp, he'd be waiting around to nab them when the Punga seeds gassed them. He'd do his amateur surgery for the Tribals and let us wander back, all in exchange for Punga Fruit to trade. Sweet little deal he had going on."

A piece of grey matter for Punga Fruit-- Makes sense, even as there's doubt within him, thick and swirling. He'd have to confront the man himself and sort through the details, and who knows where Tobar's run to? The riverboat appears devoid of human life, more so than is normal.

Nadine shrugs, as if reading the younger's thoughts. "Anyway, I figured you'd want a shot at some revenge so I put him under citizen's arrest, sorta," she says, her head nudging toward the Duchess Gambit.

He glances over to the woman, eyes seeking the telltale signs of a lie. As usual, there's nothing of the sort, and Neil pulls his gaze away, to fall on the riverboat instead. It's here he notes the closed door across from the cabin's opening, latch and padlock sealing the door shut. He wonders--

"How do I know you're telling the truth?" asks Neil, distracted by his recent discovery.

"Sounds pretty wacko, right? Well, I wouldn't have believed me either, until I snuck a peek in Tobar's engine room. From the look of it, he kept every bit of gray matter he cut out, and he had quite a collection! You can take a look, if your stomach's up to it."

It is a talk he wants, not a look, but if what Nadine speaks is the complete and utter truth... By god. Shit. Fuck. Neil doesn't know if he should think, if he should entertain such a possibility right now. Tobar the Ferryman with his goddamn piece of brain to add to his goddamn collection of grey matter. Goddammit.

As if noting the reactions, the woman continues, "And while you're in there, feel free to give Tobar my love." There is a slight pause, rage singeing around the edges. "Preferably with the sharp end of a hot knife."

Hot knife. Yeah. That sounds-- He can't really be thinking this is the truth, right? Right?

It's this. It's here that Neil wakes with his chest heaving, eyes wide to show whites. Dogmeat immediately looks up in concern, and it takes a moment for the man to register the dog's presence and their surroundings. When he does, Neil pulls himself upward by his elbow to pet the poor pup.

"I'm fine," he says, his throat scratching in the effort. "Just a dream." Another damn memory. Neil gains the sudden urge to take a walk, at least to the pair of pools at the end of a hall to rinse his face. Yeah. He'll do that.

Sensing Neil's desire, Dogmeat hops down and waits at his master's heels as Neil shifts his legs to the ground and stands up. His movement is improving while his nausea is all but gone; he thinks he really needs to do something for the guy who made this possible. Before something gives way beneath their feet. He steps toward the exit, through the open door--

--to a wretched scene. To Alex on the floor and ED-E close by, the former reeking of exhaustion as the latter echoes concern. Both Neil and Dogmeat halt sharply, with the man staring down with a kind of hesitation.

"Things, uh, okay?" Neil asks.

[doubletap]

Murmurs come from the room, and so Alex is not surprised when a body moves out the room, alert enough to notice Alex right away. The kid's still ass-naked, and seemingly comfortable with the fact. It's something Alex wishes he could take advantage of, in word or deed.

But as the cliches go, he's not in the mood.

He reaches to wrap a large hand around one of the kid's ankles, enjoying the simple touch of skin. "You're moving better," he says tiredly, though with actual joy on the edges. He moves on to answer. "Things are fine. Just more bullshit to add to the pile, you know."

Alex certainly doesn't look fine, and he's starting to realize that. But he really just wants to sit here right now. "And I didn't want to wake you while you were resting."

[goodfight]

Things are fine. Honestly, the old man hardly reflects that assessment, but bullshit has its way of sapping life out of the living. Neil continues to observe Alex, the younger's countenance edging toward understanding. Further shifting toward kindness at the warm hand around his ankle.

There's comfort there, something they probably both need. "Thanks to you," he replies easily. "I'm up and better than I've been in weeks. Just need to go splash my face."

Wash away that memory. Neil wipes the sweat off the side of his brow that isn't bandaged. "Let's talk about the bullshit." You know, since it's likely this all stems from his fun-fun decision to go to Point Lookout. "Unless it isn't my business."

[doubletap]

"Didn't do much," Alex doesn't waste time in replying. "Others could have probably did better."

He moves to stand, gun still in hand, to follow the kid if he chose to head back where Alex had spent the better part of a few hours. "It's always your business," he replies, then offers a smile. "Even when it's not. This, though..." The smile dissipates. "This is yours, yeah."

Just Neil's.

[goodfight]

Alex speaks nonsense. Neil expresses this with a slow shake of his head. "Modest," he comments, with no humor present. "I figured it would be mine." His bullshit, of course.

They walk down the corridor, slowly on Neil's end, toward the open pools. One remains sparkling while the other is starting to turn cloudy, and it is the latter that the man steps toward. Neil lowers himself to a kneel, reaching with a hand to test the water.

"You want to talk here? Or wait until we're in the room?" he asks. He cups his hand and gently splashes at his lower face, careful to avoid the bandages.

[doubletap]

Alex follows him, and doesn't realize he intends to keep following him until Neil kneels at the edge of the pool. He pats his face damp and Alex--

Alex reaches to touch the edges of the bandage, already dirty from sweat and grime. "Someone could have done better," he murmurs the fact. "And now you have to let me change this once you're done."

Here was not an option. Here was his anger, and here was Neil open to the world. Alex knew as well as any--men cling to the armor they make. The armor they believe in. And hell if Alex was going to say one of the topics while the kid is naked. "Back at base, then," he says, stepping back. "You could probably use some clothes, too. I got some basic gear off the caravan I bought food from before--nothing fancy, but something your size. It's in one of the packs."

[goodfight]

The cold liquid on heated skin helps to stifle images of that dingy riverboat and its locked engine room. Neil rises, ignoring the droplets falling over the rest of him, and turns to fully regard Alex.

"Change, right. Thanks." For the concern, the foresight, and the help. Everything, more or less. He drags his hand across his mouth, something old and tired lingering in the motion. "Good thing I thought to bring an extra pair of underwear. Well--"

He pauses to grin at Alex, attempting and perhaps succeeding at looking cheered. "--lead on."