Vocalization fails to register within merc, naught but a muted buzzing that melts into the waste’s atmosphere as if it were so subtle as to be accustomed to. He’d been absent of characteristic verbose nature since they’d stepped out of the facility, speaking only out of necessity during their travels. It had felt as though the reality of the situation had finally weighed in on him, drawing the thread ‘round his throat as much as it l i f t e d his soul. There were feelings he could place, and those of which he could not – excitement, overwhelmingly seizing rule, but others as well, and MacCready was doing all in his power to shy away from the ‘ what if ‘s ‘.
❛ —— oh, uh, y-yeah. We’re close. ❜ Closer than he’d ever anticipated – not only to Goodneighbour, that was HARDLY what struck a shuddering breath from corrupted lungs, but closer to curing this plague ‘pon his son’s life. Each refreshed reminder was h e a v y on his heart, catching in throat.
{{ None of this felt real.
But it was. This was the denouement of a quest long thought futile, a chapter he’s suspected would only bring upon him destruction of a less than physical sort. People like him didn’t deserve happy endings – he wasn’t a being of rectitude and virtue, there was no kindness within frostbitten heart to spare for the helpless and the lost. He wasn’t one of the good guys, but he’d be damned if he let this slip now, Prevent locked in protective casing, casing locked in iron grip.
❛ Hey, uh, I know I said this already, but – ❜ Hushed, voice faltering and becoming just another whisper to be lost in the night. And burning, damn if his eyes weren’t burning and rendering him thankful for his positioning, hunched and turned away from employer. ❛ I owe you. A lot. ❜
Eternal gratitude earned eternal apathy, Nate’s lip twitching in annoyance at remaining quiet on the subject. He would feel the same gratefulness if he were in the others shoes, but it didn’t bring comfort when handling the mans guilt. He wished he knew for once how to soften words from practice, tonight everything he said felt loud.
“ Make it up to me then. ” His boot nudges a skewer angled over the fire. He doesn’t have to fake the nonchalance in his voice, finding it easier than fighting MacCready on what he did and didn’t owe. He flashed a wry smile, “ buy me a few rounds at the next bar. ”
The afterglow of their victory was bringing an evasiveness from him tonight, though this could be accounted for by the bottle they split for the occasion. He changed gears, expression dropping.
“Your kid. Duncan. What’s he look like? ”
