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]

Another question. It shapes easily in the back of his throat; it crawls to settle on the tip of his tongue. Yeah, Neil can ask another question.

What are you? What, not who.

A smile, stretched thin across the other guy's lips, greets him. Annoys the hell out of him. Neil's sure the guy's fucking smiling at him, even as the blurs distort and shift further, not out of sheer amusement but something much, much older.

What a question, the other muses aloud as he tips the whiskey bottle into his cup. You're at a ten, are you not? No, actually. It's less with that 'hat'. He points to Neil's head, to the wrappings sticking against his hair and skin, and makes a sympathetic noise. My mistake, Lone Wanderer. I truly thought you knew.

Hurts. Hearing that really hurts. "I told you." Can't remember. Neil looks away to the wine glass, to the golden liquid swirling within, his cheeks flushed and burning.

The other man watches him for a long uncomfortable minute. All right, he finally says. You have my complete and full disclosure. My name... He leans in as if to kiss Neil, moving instead to the side, lips close to an open ear.

There's a whisper, three syllables to the count, and the stars align. They synchronize, they come together to fall to pieces, and Neil finds himself closer to another than he ever wanted to be, closer than even--

His fever rises, his skin's dripping sweat, and the one called the Lone Wanderer laughs darkly in his dreams. He pushes away the other with his forearm in a single lazy motion, the opposite hand coming up to flick the guy's nose.

"Fuck you," he says fondly, with emphasis, as the other gives a sound of disgust. "You're finally here." Was waiting for you. "Am I able to leave?" For good this time?

And end it all at last.

No.

A complete denial. It's expected, and still he hears the pounding in his chest. Feels the acidity in his ears. "Then why--" --the hell-- "--are you here?" asks Neil, his voice unchanging. And not with-- "--your better half?"

The other man makes a complicated face amid the blur, allowing Neil to feel vindicated. My better half?

Better half, is the prompt response. "Your husband." You know, he's -- "--kinda hot. Has a respectable job. Drives a decent car. Smells really good." That is, according to another. This other. Neil's only indifferent toward, well, nearly everyone; it's just the borrowed aspects that allow him to step over his bounds.

It doesn't matter how far he crosses. Not here, at any rate.

[doubletap]

Alex walks in to a one-sided conversation. Eyebrows raised, he passes Neil as he murmurs, moving to the table to add to the pile.

"--you here?" Neil questions. "...your better half? Your husband."

It would almost be funny, this conversation. Alex wonders who he is talking to.

"--kinda hot. Has a respectable job. Drives a decent car. Smells really good."

...Wonders who he is talking about.

Leaving the items on the table for now, Alex moves to the bed, crouching down to put his mouth close to Neil's ear. "...Cheating on me, Wanderer?"

[goodfight]

The blur obscuring the other man's face takes on a tone of red, red, red, and Neil's laughing. Howls until his sides hurt, and he's doubled over on the counter, slapping his hand down against the granite. He does not cease his sounds even when he notes clenched fists and teeth from the other, even as his prone body stretches its lips out in a goofy smile.

The act finally stops at a question. Spoken by a voice entirely too familiar to properly place. Neil pauses to glance at the blur.

Was-- "--that you?"

His counterpart shrugs, the movements stiff as a board. He's still very pissed, it seems. Not me. Maybe yours? he gives, tone reeking of hate.

Neil cannot help the eyebrow raise as he peers at the other man over the wine glass. "My better half?" A pause. He's-- "--too busy killing himself over me."

That's funny. He hadn't meant to say that.

[doubletap]

Apparently the conversation continues. A tad more pointed--one that makes Alex quiet and consider things. He stands, looking downward, then leans to kiss the top of Neil's head, a hand cupping the side of his face. "...Get more rest than this, Neil." Get a deeper sleep, one you can actually heal in.

Alex needs to sort the rest of the crap, and there's still those holotapes he found, but at the moment, he should heed ED-E's advice--he doesn't know if and when those BOS bastards are going to show up. He tugs the cushioned chair over to the bed, setting it close to the mattress, before settling down.

ED-E hovers, as he does, and Dogmeat watches. Alex reaches down and drapes a hand over Neil's own. He leans his head back and closes his eyes.

Knowing ED-E is watching, he murmurs in a show of annoyance, "This chair isn't comfortable at all."

ED-E beeps affectionately, and despite everything, Alex feels his mind slipping away.

[goodfight]

It's funny, those transitions in dreams. They come and go as they please, and when they do, you never remember exactly when. Sometimes, you never remember what came before when you reach the after.

Here, it is the same. Neil falls into the deeper rest asked for, slipping into absence, and the world before simply disappears. There is no counter, no wine. No whiskey, no obscured man striking up conversation.

There is only sleep.