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

[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."