leanonstuff | PSL post for daughterless

[The NCR had sent Norman to the Vault because the area was surrounded by Fiends, and he was damn good at blending among the various "criminal" groups around the Mojave. No way an ordinary NCR trooper would be able to get inside without being attacked. And according to their intelligence, exactly what was inside was of such great importance that they couldn't possibly wait to go after it just in case Caesar's Legion got wind of it and acted first. Norman was searching for a box of special bottles that appeared to be beer or vodka bottles, but were actually filled with a chemical that, when introduced into a water supply, could spread a deadly bacteria that would wipe out anyone who drank the contaminated water for at least a month.

Unfortunately, finding the bottles was turning out to be far more difficult that Norman had anticipated. He'd gotten into the Vault in the first place by wearing old, torn and dirty clothes that could pass as those a typical raider or Fiend might wear. He'd even bought a few chems from them to help gain their trust (and to use them later, though he planned to tell the NCR that he'd disposed of them instead). The Vault seemed to be empty of Fiends, luckily, but he wasn't too optimistic that he wouldn't eventually run into ghouls or worse.

10mm pistol in hand, Norman opens the door to the Vault infirmary, hoping he might have some more luck locating the bottles in there.]

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Alright.

[It doesn't bother him when Joel pulls away, though Norman can't help but wonder if he's purposefully trying to avoid looking at him. Well, he'll just have to explain himself once they find a decent house to hunker down in.

...Or, more likely, he won't mention it at all. As he glances through the dirty windows of one of the houses, he realizes there isn't any good way to bring up what happened. Hell, he's pretty sure it was a bad idea. One too many Med-X maybe. Easier to explain it that way.

The house looks to be empty and in as good of shape as any, so Norman gestures for Joel to join him inside. There's only one skeleton in there, and a search of the fridge reveals some water and food. Looks like they're finally in luck.]

Thirsty?

[Following Norman into the house, Joel barely makes it past the entrance hall before collapsing into the nearest sagging chair, breathing hard. He rolls up his pant leg to examine the bandaging-- blood streaks the gauze padding in ugly stripes of rusty red, but at least it isn't soaked through.

It feels like his leg is on fire-- and his ribs too, and hell, even the damn graze on his arm is joining in on the chorus of pain. Now that the worst of the danger is past, adrenaline high gone, his body is tallying up the total and giving him the bill plus interest. He's also suddenly aware of being achingly hungry and thirty-- Norman's offer of a drink is more than welcome.]

Yeah. [Joel reaches out for Norman to pass him a bottle, keeping his head down and not tearing his gaze away from his leg. He doesn't know what he'd do if the other man tried to talk to him about what had just happened, and hopes that this will be enough of a distraction to keep him busy.] Appreciate it if you pass me a Med-X while you're at it.

[He hasn't really been keeping track, but they must still have a handful left, right? Right?]

[He looks Joel over when he collapses in the chair, worry evident in his expression. They survived, but... his wounds are serious and there's no doctors around to treat him properly. Norman is concerned that he won't heal, but he's also worried about their dwindling supply of Med-X. He can't afford to give him another one, really.]

How about a stim? We have a lot of those left, and I think they help you heal better.

[Of course, he feels terrible about trying to deny Joel some extra relief, and hands him the bottle of water to try and feel like he isn't being a complete monster. His own wound from before isn't hurting too bad since he'd recently taken a Med-X, at least. ...And that just makes him feel worse about it. But if he runs out of the stuff, he'll be utterly useless, and Joel will leave him behind for sure. There's nothing he can do about it.]

[Joel gulps a third of the bottle in one long swallow, then wipes his mouth with a grimace.]

Not really one much for stims these days. I got in the habit back... a while back. [his raiding days, he means] Used 'em all the time, so they don't take too well now.

[Though he's just as like to build up a resistance at the rate he's shooting up with Med-X. Norman's right, he can't just rely on the one, not with the state he's in right now. If they hadn't been running for their goddamn lives with those bottles in tow, he'd have been more cautious, more careful, but that isn't exactly one of their options right now.]

Pass me one of each. I'll heal up fine, just need something to tide me over.

Oh... okay.

[Norman opens up his pack with fingers that are starting to shake a little out of nervousness rather than withdrawal. Of course, being nervous tends to trigger a desire for the drug, and the more he takes, the more often he feels the need to shoot up sooner. What a goddamn mess.]

I'm looking. [He shuffles through his bag a bit too haphazardly, trying to make it seem like he can't find a Med-X but probably looking more frazzled than anything else. He only sees two left. Sorry Joel, but I just can't....]

We must've used them all up. How about two stims? [Those he easily has in hand to offer up.]

[In some other circumstance, he might have accepted that and made do, but even through the haze of pain and irritation there's something... off about Norman's tone, and Joel shoots him a narrow-eyed look of disbelief.]

What? Could've sworn we-- [He shakes his head, trying to clear the jumble of thoughts, of memory-- Norman in the ticket booth, hands shaking--] Look, just-- pass me your pack.

No... they aren't there. I checked the whole thing already.

[He can't hand over his pack or Joel will see he's lying, and, well, who knows how he'll react?]

But I think I saw an abandoned clinic up the road a bit, so I'll go check there for more supplies. How's that sound?

[Norman is going to do it regardless. Even without sharing, two Med-X isn't enough to last him for long. God, he wishes he could detox from this crap, and maybe if things had worked out with the NCR he could have. But now, he doesn't see the opportunity. Attempting it would take time, and that would be time the NCR and Legion would have to catch up and kill them.]

[Joel gives Norman a long, hard look. The pieces don't fit quite right here. They'd definitely had more Med-X than either of them had used in the past day, and there's something off about-- he doesn't know.

The pain is a distraction Joel can't afford and his hands are beginning to shake, as much from blood loss as it is the aftermath of their near-death encounter. There ain't much point arguing about their med stash right now, so Joel exhales, a low and exhausted sound, and lets it go (for now, but he sure as hell is going to mull over it later.)]

Fine. [Letting his shoulders drop, he extends his hand toward Norman-- just pass him the damn stims.] You do that.

[He sees the slump in Joel's shoulders and feels a deep pang of guilt. He'll just... have to find more to make up for it. And he will. There has to be some in that clinic.

So Norman hands Joel the two stims, trying not to appear too guilty.]

Will you be okay in here while I'm gone?

[He'll have to be, but Norman asks anyway.]

[Rolling back his sleeves to inject the stimpack, Joel doesn't look up at him.]

I think I'll manage.

[If his voice is somewhat less than friendly, well, he's not sure how he feels about Norman right now. Between the kiss and... this, whatever this is, Norman being suspicious as all hell, Joel is definitely having second thoughts about this mission.

At least they hadn't had the other conversation that he'd been trying to avoid. Norman hadn't mentioned-- maybe he felt as awkward about the whole thing as Joel does. Better to think of it as a one-off, not to be repeated.]

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