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]

He speaks his fears before looking too closely at them.

"...Thought you'd ditched me weeks ago."

[doubletap]

He thinks he could laugh. Or smile or shout, or shake him. All are likely, but Alex does nothing. "Not getting rid of me that easily. Me and your dog have been hanging on that shit beach for weeks."

ED-E beeps a protest, and now Alex smiles, only slightly. "And ED-E."

[goodfight]

The imagery of three shadows on the pier bubbles forth from his memories, and the resulting guilt and sorrow reflect in Neil's voice.

"...I fucked up."

[doubletap]

Alex turns a corner, and moves into the hall. Despite the topic, his tone stays quiet, comforting. Even and level, truth without coyness. "We all fuck up, Neil. It's how you choose to move after that matters."

The med lab is how he remembers it, bed and divider and equipment, and as long as he can use the shit, he doesn't really care. "But you can't move until you recover some, so leave things to me for now, all right?"

[goodfight]

Yeah. That's right. The choices that come after are what matters the most.

Despite the immense pain, there is a fog growing behind his eyes. It expands to encompass perception. It encompasses thought. Before his consciousness goes, Neil chances an answer.

"All right," he murmurs before closing his eyes to sleep.

[doubletap]

Neil's eyes close, and if not for the words said, Alex's heart would be somewhere in his stomach again.

He recognizes the feeling, then. That drop in pressure, that choking sensation. It's been a while, he thinks. Back to the Divide. Before then, the Sierre Madre. It's fear. He knows it. Knew it in the second the gun discharged. Alex is scared every time Neil closes his eyes. He doesn't know if he'll open them again.

But Alex hasn't lived this long by giving into fear. He has shit to do-- The emotion is wiped away, replaced by a list of things he needs to do. ED-E gives a quiet buzz, nothing close to a normal sound, but still a prompting. Alex pauses; takes in a breath. Then nods to no one. "All right."

All right.

The gurney is cleared off and he lays Neil on it. The packs are dropped onto the small table in the corner, making a clatter as something falls off. No mind for it.

He hasn't the mind.

ED-E makes a sound again, a firmer prompting and Alex only sorts through some of the miscellaneous shit in both of their packs, coming up with enough basic cloth and shit to tear into a sheet for under Neil's head. He doesn't know if Neil has other injuries, but doctors kits and Stimpacks should do enough for anything else. The head thing is enough to make the kid off--ruined, slurring, and unconscious, and Alex doesn't fucking know what happened at that fucking theme park.

ED-E beeps once, a call for attention. Alex whirls around, wild in the eyes and white at the mouth, ready to scream at his closest friend. ED-E holds to silence, hovers there in the air. Alex stares.

Stares.

Dogmeat sits in the corner near the door, silent as the grave he's been waiting for, and Alex breathes. Breathes. Licks his lips and whistles a query.

"Disinfecting," is the reply. "Water is needed."

"I know that. We're sitting on a metric ton of water, but can't--"

ED-E beeps a negative, and Dogmeat rises to his legs slowly, heading out the door. ED-E keeps staring at Alex until the man follows the dog. It's obvious enough, that trade-off.

ED-E won't let anything happen to the person that Alex claimed as his own.

[goodfight]

He sleeps, like he doesn't want to. He sleeps because as agreed upon, he will leave matters to Alex. The world around him moves, and he simply stills.

For now, Neil Park falls into a deeper sleep, and for once, he is rewarded with blessed oblivion. Gifted with the complete and utter lack of dreams. His chest rises and falls at a steady rhythm, marred only by the sound of his labored breaths.

[doubletap]

The dog pads down the hall and Alex follows him. He wonders if he's the one asleep; dreaming. Following a dog in an underground near-bunker beneath history-- Ulysses would hate it.

He hasn't thought about him in a while, Alex realizes. The other Courier, opposite and similar; Alex's past and prophecy and premonition. He is probably still in the Divide, Alex thinks. He may already be gone.

Alex stops in the hall, hands pressed to his face, and thinks he might sob. There is a warm body leaning against his leg, and he remembers he needs to move.

There is water at the end of the hall, as the kids attested. A pool of purified water leaking from somewhere higher in the project. At least, they aren't running out of water. Alex fills a few bottles of water, and grabs a handled pot on way back, coupled with a burner. He drops the bags to the floor, Neil's falling over, a couple things falling out, and sets up the burner on the table instead. Gets the water set to boiling, and remembers to breathe again.

ED-E watches him, but not as he did before.

"...Yeah, I know," he mumbles. "I'm fine. Just... off-guard. Didn't expect this." Of course he didn't expect this. Dogmeat returns to the corner he chose--lays down, head on paws to watch. ED-E hovers by Neil, and Alex breathes. Remembers to breathe.

The next part is easy. He's done enough quick fix surgeries on himself or others to know the basics by heart. Needles, catgut, scalpels, makeshift clamps--he sets it all up on the rolling table next to the gurney, dropping the things that need to be disinfected into the slowly bubbling water. He glances up, notes the Robco tech on the ceiling. "ED-E, can you hack that so it's light only?"

A simple question. ED-E beeps a cheery positive, and floats up to give a series of shocks to the gene projector.

By the time Alex has everything cleaned and set, cloth under Neil's head and neck for something wishing for cleanliness, ED-E has the gene projector in light mode and turned at an angle over Neil's head. It makes the thick thread look uglier, the unhealed cut red and angry. "Infected," he mutters angrily. "Of course."

He's going to have to undo everything first. Going to have to even fucking reset the broken bone of the skull--it's probably grating on something if Neil's in that much pain. Going to have to clean what he can, do what he can, get rid of the fucking infection that's probably making everything worse. And he if tries to do all of that while Neil's asleep, the kid is going to jolt and start, and then he'll be missing more of his brain in the end. And unlike Alex's inner self, Alex can't see it ending well if the kid is parted with more than he already has.

Alex watches Neil breath for a few minutes. Then reaches to grasp his shoulder. "Neil. Wake up, kid."

[goodfight]

A voice cuts through his sleep like a knife. A padded surface sits beneath him. Both are familiar but not. Familiar but--

Neil inhales sharply. His dark eyes snap open to bright, stinging lights, and he exhales on a cry. Shuts his eye tight to keep out the glare, pulling the skin on his forehead and subsequently his poorly stitched and made incision.

It is a poor decision.

"Shit! Ow, fuck!"

[doubletap]

Alex's hand tightens on Neil's shoulder, powerlessness touching him and moving away. "Sorry, kid, but I gotta ask you some questions. Not that much really. You just need to be awake right now."

He reaches with his other hand--his fingertips barely touch Neil's jaw. "Think you can try to focus on me for a sec?"

[goodfight]

"Al...ex?" Neil loosens his face muscles somewhat at the recognition and contact, tension slowly dissipating as the explanation progressed. The fog of sleep still lurks behind his eyes, behind that god awful pain. It threatens to pull him under, but somehow, he manages to stay above it all.

The young man slowly opens his eyes to look at Alex.

[doubletap]

Neil opens his eyes, focuses on him, and Alex smiles--tired, old. "What, you don't sleep for two weeks, now you won't wake up? We gotta have a talk, babe."

The poor kid. Alex is fucking glad Neil killed the fucker, because otherwise Alex would find it hard to focus right now. "I want you to stay where you are, but we got a couple of options at the moment."

[goodfight]

It's difficult to exercise comprehension through that fog, with that tired face staring back at him. Neil blinks, going through the words a second time. Alex is wanting to present choices, and choices for people like them are chems to an addict.

"What...options?" he croaks out.

[doubletap]

Alex gives in and runs his thumb over Neil's cheek, then withdraws his hand, leaving the other firmly on Neil's shoulder. "It's simple, kid. You have to stay still.

"I can either try my hardest to drug you into oblivion so you don't move, and maybe you don't wake up after." Neil's choice, Alex reminds himself. The kid chooses. "Or you stay awake through all of it, only on Med-X. You keep yourself still and you stay awake and talking to me. That way I know you're still kicking through it."

[goodfight]

Affection proves doubly effective here as Neil shivers at the gesture, his nerves humming at one pleasant aspect in a sea of misery. It moves through him before eventually passing, leaving behind a lack and the recent memory of dreams. Of punga-ridden hallucinations. Alex asks if Neil would like to be put under or stay awake, and Neil thinks that if the other man just knew about the nature of his sleep as of late that he wouldn't ask such an obvious question.

Only, there is something missing. "Kicking through what?" questions Neil.

[doubletap]

Neil shivers, and as much as Alex would like to attribute it to himself, the reaction is to the infection--the pain--the fever that's likely going to start building. Worry crosses over his eyes, and Alex reaches--touches the air above Neil's forehead. "I have to redo this," he says without prelude.

"It's not going to be fun."

[goodfight]

The stitches and likely the destruction held within. Alex would redo what that ferryman did, and Neil--

He trembles as his countenance practically radiates the very opposite of want. "Don't put me under," is the answer, rushed and edging toward panic. "I'll stay awake." Stay put and follow instructions, even if it would require the entirety of his efforts. It's better than another fucked up dream, dictating things that are better left behind in the murky swamp.

[doubletap]

Sound, sight, the air around Neil's body--everything gives off the essence of fear. Panic. A pure reaction, nothing more, and Alex has never seen the like from Neil Park. Alex's entire body shifts from tension to something looser. He touches the side of Neil's face opposite from his wound, touches the kid's cheek, and leans to kiss him extraordinarily gently. "Hey," he says. "It's okay. I won't let anything happen you don't want."

Alex will keep him awake himself, if Neil is so adverse to the idea. "I got you. I'll fix this. Trust me."

[goodfight]

Contact, pain, a soft kiss-- They do not matter so much as that promise, that protection from that which lurks behind the dredges of sleep. Neil calms, in spite of his wide and bloodshot eyes.

"What you do need from me?" he questions, voice subdued.

[doubletap]

Neil quiets, and for that, Alex is grateful. He straightens, pulling his hand away. "Right now, you need to stay awake on your own for a little bit. I need to make this place a bit more secure before we start. You also need to get a little bit of food in you--and water, to wash out some of the alcohol, or your blood's going to be too thin for me to work with."

He moves as he talks, crossing to his own pack and coming up with an MRE. On the way back, he snags two of the water bottles he filled. "I know it's not shit you like, but we're just going for nutrition here, okay?"

[goodfight]

Food and water, right. His stomach threatens to rebel at mention of both, but it is as Alex says. His blood's too thin; it will flow out faster than is healthy.

Without wanting, out of both frustration and exhaustion, Neil bursts into tears. Nothing else about him changes. "Yeah," he says evenly. "Okay."

[doubletap]

Alex finishes walking over, then puts the bottles and packet on the gurney next to Neil, before crouching down. Head height with the table he watches Neil without judgment.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

[goodfight]

The essentials to this upcoming operation are within reach, but it is Alex that begs for his attention. Neil watches the older man for a long minute, the tears obscuring the details on Alex's face, eyelids fluttering in an attempt for clarity.

Finally, he exhales in a sigh. "It's fine." No, it's not. "I mean, I'll be fine. Eventually."

[doubletap]

Alex, despite everything, offers Neil a grin. He stands, hands on his thighs to push up. "Kid, that was never in question. You pull through anything. Don't you remember passing out in the desert? When those raiders in Kansas got that lucky shot in your gut? There's not a doubt you'll be fine."

But you're not now.

Nothing of Alex shows that--he only expands a casual confidence in the simplicity of the statements made. They're true, of course. But this is something different. It's not just Neil's body in question.

[goodfight]

He blinks, his mind mulling over the painted past. Without the feeling behind the motion, Neil returns Alex's expression with a small smile of his own. "That bullet barely missed my liver," is the response. "Still don't know how I survived that."

Still don't know why he had to continue. Why he had to get on that damn ferry. He grimaces, pain pressing into his skull like needles.