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]

Well, Neil supposes that he's being hypocritical. He did blow himself up with a frag mine for one of her requests. Besides, he recently got his brain cut out of his own accord; there's no room for his complaints.

He opens his mouth to speak but quickly finds disappointment. The question he intended to ask is reduced to a single word. "What...?" gasps Neil.

[doubletap]

"The first one?" He guess at the sentence. "A special fungus that's been rumored to sustain life completely by itself, and can even reduce radiation. She said it's in a place called Little Lamplight."

He finishes one part of the gash, ties it off. Moves on to the other one.

[goodfight]

Oh. That fungus. That place. Neil had planned to bring Alex to Little Lamplight (if the new mayor, since MacCready's likely long gone, is willing to grant entrance), but then everything just kind of petered out. His enthusiasm for his hometown took a nosedive at the amount of crap, and by the time they reached the Republic of Dave, he hated D.C. with every fiber of his being.

The corners of his lips pull down into a frown.

[doubletap]

"Eh, you can bitch about it later," Alex says, with a pat far enough back on Neil's head that it shouldn't pull skin. "But I'm interested to see what she does with the stuff. Especially if--"

He grins. "--If I finish helping her, and we both have our name on a book. We can buy them in a pair and be celebrities."

[goodfight]

Alex pats him like he's consoling a irritable child, and Neil can't help but frown harder. Especially when the other speaks.

The first portion of what he says is fine, but-- What? No. Absolutely not. Neil can't even look at his fucking name on that fucking book; why the hell would he want to buy it?

This is all expressed in a low growl.

[doubletap]

Alex laughs once, tired, but something lightens. Loosens. He stitches the last three stitches and ties it off, reaching for a scalpel to cut the catgut. "Wanderer, you disappear for over a month and get your head cut open, and you are fucking upset by something you should be proud of?"

[goodfight]

Neil's so displeased that he barely registers the finishing touches on his head. And to be frank, he doesn't really know why he got upset over the stupid Wasteland Survival Guide. Normally, he would feign irritation and be done with it. Perhaps now he's realizing the crowning moment of that time in hell was a guide about living in the Wastes.

The emotion's juvenile. It's just flat out dumb, and it makes him want to cry.

So again, he tears up. Blinks angrily to let the fucking water out of his eyes.

[doubletap]

Alex notices. Of course, he does. But he cuts the thread and reaches for the pot of homemade sealant on the table, slathering it over the cut with less careful motions than he did before. It dries into a somewhat sticky cream, but it'll help keep things together while stuff heals.

Which means he's done. Done and done.

He drops without warning, knees cracking on the floor, and leans to press his face into Neil's stomach, to take in, for a moment, that this first part--this first danger zone is over. He moves his head slightly, nuzzling, and just stays there. Stays right there.

[goodfight]

In his absurdity, Neil barely notices the final steps, the last stretch to repairing what had been damaged. It isn't until Alex drops to kneel and presses his face into Neil's stomach that the younger man realizes something has passed. His eyelids flutter as he watches Alex, as he attempts to make sense of what is unfolding before him.

[doubletap]

"Hey," he says for probably the eighteenth time, speaking into Neil's stomach. "You know that I love you, right?"

That this wouldn't have happened for anyone else.

"Please promise me," he says, lifting his head to look over to Neil, eyes tired and dark imprints heavy under his eyes. His face looks gaunt. "That you won't go alone to places you don't know anything about anymore. Please."

[goodfight]

The question, the promise-- Neither make a lick of sense, but one already shifts things within Neil. Moves his truths around. Alex has pressed the word love enough times for Neil to now agree that yes, the bastard loves him. Apparently, loves Neil enough to waste his precious time and energy patching the younger guy up.

But never going alone. Alex understands Neil's called the Lone Wanderer for a reason, right?

(Right?)

"Give...up..." Neil inhales, his throat and head threatening to tear apart. "...wandering?"

[doubletap]

"Fuck no," Alex breathes out, no hesitation in the answer. "Both of us... We like exploring too damn much for that. I would never fucking ask that."

The clarification is-- "Don't go by yourself. Take me with you. Take Dogmeat with you. Fuck, take ED-E with you. Don't go alone. Don't make me worry something will happen again. I don't want--"

Shit. There's no point in pretending pride will save you now, Alex Seattle Geer.

"...I don't want to lose you, kid."

[goodfight]

The response takes him aback. It fucks something up within him. Alex has never shown concern over Neil's welfare before; he'd seemed perfectly fine whenever Neil hopped over to a random locale. They're adults, after all. They do adult things like taking care of their own shit.

Well, at least until Neil fucked his own shit and ended up here. Now, there's concern. There's a potential of loss written behind Alex's eyes, and Neil can't recall. He can't remember if there was ever someone who desperately didn't want him to go at it alone.

He blinks and attempts a word. Why? It comes out weak, inaudible, and Neil slumps from where he is, exhausted by that little bit of effort.

[doubletap]

"I said," he responds to the nearly unsaid word. "I told you a few times by now. I just told you again. I love you, Neil Park, the fucking Lone Wanderer, savior of the fucking Capital Wasteland despite their fucking retarded bullshit about it. I care about you--me. I'm asking you, kid, please--"

Fucking don't do this to me again.

He takes a minute. Inhales. Swallows it down, like he told Neil to. "...Just promise me."

[goodfight]

Alex doesn't want to lose him. He cares about him. He loves Neil enough to beg for a promise.

Has Dad ever done that?

Pleaded for Neil not to run off, not to get himself injured, maimed, or killed. Not to travel back into the dangerous Wastes because James genuinely desired his well-being and not because he needed his kid's help. Didn't he once send Neil into the crossfires of a turret before? Tried to seal him in a vault where nearly every security officer wanted to bash his skull in?

Neil isn't even Alex's blood, and he is being asked to stay close. Stay alive. And the shit's real enough that Neil can't look at the other man anymore.

"Okay," he gasps. "Promise."

[doubletap]

Alex exhales, rises up on his feet to curl over Neil, tuck in close to him, an arm around the top of his head, Alex's head against Neil's shoulder. "Good kid," he says, a repeat from earlier, no less sincere. "Good kid."

Thank you.

[goodfight]

Neil's enfolded into an awkward embrace. He listens to the sound of Alex's voice ladened down with gratitude and wonders what has just happened. Neil nearly won the consolation prize of natural selection's bad side, and Alex Seattle Geer calls him a good kid.

How backwards. Neil hates himself. He wishes with every bit of himself that Alex would hate him as well.

[doubletap]

After a moment, Alex backs, and gives an exhale again. Concerned, ED-E questions, and Alex shakes his head. "It's fine." I'm fine, he means.

He exhales once again, and goes to rummage in the packs. "All right, we're nearly done here. Just gotta bandage you up, make you drink something nasty, and check on something, and you can get some real rest." Alex comes back with a handful of things, dropping them in a heap near Neil's legs and keeping the first thing he mentioned. Sterilized cloth is opened and placed over the wound on Neil's head, taped down.

He smiles, slightly. "You look like shit, Wanderer."

It's a repeat. The first thing he said to Neil when he returned. It's somewhat... redeeming. This past shitty month lessens, just the slightest.

[goodfight]

There is release, a comfortable distance between them, and Neil finds he can breathe easier. ED-E and Alex have a small exchange before the latter sets to work, explaining as he goes along.

At the echo, Neil's dark eyes again find Alex. Watches him silently, intently, looking for something even he cannot begin to name. His body, however, has other intentions as its heat elevates to an uncomfortable degree. The skin on his face flushes to a bright red.

"Yeah," he begins slowly. "Guess I do."

[doubletap]

Alex shrugs, then reaches for a capped jar, sloshing the murky liquid inside. "You'll be fine, babe. Just need to get through a couple of days, and then you should be able to start getting back to your regular self. Need you to sit up, though. Need help?"

At the kid's affirmative, Alex swings an arm around his shoulders, slowly rising him to a sitting position. He lets Neil work on stabilizing, then offers him the jar in his hands, uncapped. "This is going to be the worst thing you ever drank, but drink it all down, got it?"

[goodfight]

The room spins in the worst way, causing his head to nearly tilt back in an effort to balance. Neil manages to eventually find an equilibrium, just in time to be told he would be partaking the worst drink ever. Great.

Neil stares at the jar, his face holding doubt, his mind weighing the options. What the hell, right? He just had his head adjusted, after all. With nothing to lose, he takes the jar and tips the liquid back into his mouth.

Quickly, he discovers that Alex's description is quite apt. If it wasn't for the warning, in fact, Neil likely would have thrown the liquid (among other things) back up. It's funny because it actually tastes kinda like vomit in his mouth.

Instead, he chokes everything down, his face and lips contorting appropriately.

[doubletap]

Alex twists his lips in something between amusement and sympathy. "It's shit in a jar, but I always keep a couple around. Almost more effective than Stimpacks sometime," says the Stimpack lover.

Which brings him to his next task. He holds out six of the said items, eyebrows raised.

[goodfight]

"Blech, yuck," is the eloquent reply. Neil sets the jar back in Alex's possession as his eyes look over the offered medicine. Unhappily, he picks one up and attempts application, which proves futile. His fingers are shaking too much to aim properly, and in the end, he simply hands it back Alex.

[doubletap]

"Hey, you got through it," he offers. "Most probably wouldn't. It's called Bitter Drink for a reason."

The Stimpack is taken back, and then injected one by one. He chooses the thigh, something hopefully less tender than the rest of the body. The Stimpacks should fortify and strengthen, cut the healing time down, and so the only thing Alex would need to worry about would be the fever. Something he would have to try to balance in another way.

He holds out a hand, palm out. "Spit."

[goodfight]

He never wants to have this Bitter Drink again, but vocalizing that detail requires far more effort than he's willing to expend. Instead, Neil watches Alex administer the medicine, one syringe at a time, his eyelids flutter tiredly. Exhaustion progressively takes its toll, and by the time he registers the command, Neil's dozed off for a good ten seconds.

His gaze falls on the hand, comprehension working through the drugs and the growing fever. After a beat, his mouth slowly works to gather liquid. It takes a minute, but Neil manages to spit as requested.

Or more dribble onto the hand. Same difference.