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

[vacuus]

By the-- These Rivet City guards really know how to run their mouths in regard to complaints. Seriously, nobody had time for that, especially a group on a strict schedule. If Tanks didn't have his helmet on, he would still be rolling his eyes to the ceiling.

"We have our orders, Washington," is the terse response. "If you have problems, have your superior forward them to Scribe Morse. That's what she's there for." Cutting off any room for further complaints, he turns to his subordinates. "Men."

The knights salute and move in different directions, each intent on certain tasks. Only Paladin Tanks stays, staring hard at the group before him.

[vacuus]

...Yep. Didn't expect anything, isn't going to get anything. Exhausted from the show of it, Washington sighs, leaning back on the desk. Cooper's eyes haven't left the guy in charge, and Drew?

Drew is sweating through his shirt, nervous and showing it; jittery as a chem addict and as anxious as a boy on prom night.

[vacuus]

Ah, order. The Rivet City guards are quiet, and his men are productive. In an hour, the knights should have all necessary logs and records, and then they could finally be off conducting more critical business.

Satisfied, Tanks begins to finally take in the details: the movements of his men, the tired guard and his silent counterpart (What's he staring for anyway?), and--

Huh. That third one looks too young to be here, honestly. Not to mention, the kid's all nerves and shakes. It's suspicious, and Tanks isn't going to let it rest. The paladin nods toward the youngest of the three Rivet City guards.

"What's your name, son?" he asks.

[vacuus]

And here we go. Washington wonders if he should have made up a will.

"I didn't--! Um, Drew." The young man stumbles over his words and Cooper clears his throat. Looking over to him, Drew's eyes widen and he turns his head back to the Brotherhood leader. "Drew Marion, I mean. Um. Sir."

[vacuus]

Tanks has to raise an eyebrow, knowing none can gauge the level of suspicion he's currently holding. "You didn't?" he echoes. "You didn't what, Drew?"

Steal the drugs, steal the caps, fucked with something important-- The kid better say something.

[vacuus]

"Um, nothing. I didn't..." His eyes dart to the back of the room, the doors there. He shifts uncomfortably.

Because that dark-haired guy was an asshole, but Drew feels like he was correct. If he helps the Brotherhood out, there's nothing in it for him. He calms down slightly. Straightens slightly. "Sorry," he says, less of a mess. "I've been, uh, sleeping on the job lately," he says, laughing a bit unnaturally. "It's making me used to getting yelled at."

[vacuus]

The kid's eyes go to a particular set of double doors, and the paladin, of course, follows that line of sight. He stays watching those doors, even as the young guard's bullshit explanation fades into the background. Tanks, despite his limited perception, isn't part of the Brotherhood of Steel for kicks and giggle.

He calls out to the nearest knight, the words coming out almost lazily. "Larry," he says, "do me a favor and check out the doors after you're done with that terminal."

"Roger that," Larry calls back.

It takes a minute, but Larry soon steps away from the terminal he was compiling data off of and goes through the doors as requested. Tanks simply watches the three guards until his subordinate returns a minute later.

"Sir, there's a couch on the stairs and a filing cabinet at the end of it," the knight gives, sounding bored out of his skull.

[vacuus]

A will, yes. Maybe gave away some of his good equipment. Left notes on training a replacement. Washington bores holes into Drew with his gaze, and at least the kid has enough sense to look ashamed. There's no making this better.

Cooper would try anyway. Perfectly nonchalant and sounding just as bored as Larry does, Cooper mentions, "Right. We tried to clear out some of the bottom floor but couldn't get the furniture all the way up with just us. We were bringing a couple guys back next week to help."

[vacuus]

So what? The couch and the filing cabinet are part of a simple moving project? Tanks resists the urge to groan, choosing instead to stare in the speaking man's direction. "Don't you people know that's a clear safety hazard?" he gives, exasperation in his voice. "Larry."

"Yes, sir?"

Tanks gestures toward the direction of the rotunda's entryway. "Grab Johannson and get that shit cleared off the stairway." Do these men a damn favor or something. As if inspired by that thought, he glances over at Washington. "You three stay here. Last thing I need is you getting in my men's way for helping you out."

"...Seriously, sir?" Larry sounds like he'd rather throw himself into the Tidal Bay instead.

"Larry." The name is given in warning.

Sighing, the knight steps toward the rotunda.

[vacuus]

...And there is it. Right there. The final nail to the coffin. Washington sighs, more resigned than anything else.

We're dead. It's fucked. He knew this day was going to end in death.