Neil Edward Bernhart (neilbernhart) wrote in the_quarantined, @ 2010-04-02 18:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | innes calder, neil bernhart |
Who: Innes & Neil
What: Coffee. No, really.
Where: SS Lightning Fail
When: After guard shift, per tradition.
Rating: PG-13
Status: Complete
There wasn't a single blanket explanation that accounted for who survived and who didn't. At best, people mixed and matched from a pool of reasons and factors, but that was one big fucking pool, alright. For Neil, the rough assortment included how insanely gun-happy Nebraska was, how he'd been one of those guys convinced that track was, indeed, a legitimate sport that deserved recognition, not mockery, and then there was his ability to compartmentalize. Just to name three.
So, at this point, two years and change into this hell, it was safe to say that when he was distracted, it was a big deal.
The last time he'd actually lost his head for an extended period of time? Oh right, when his best friend happened to disappear, leading them all to believe he was dead. Fun times. And now he was distracted by Innes. Neil could say, with reasonable certainty, that he'd worry about several members of the fleet if any of those individuals were injured, but that wasn't the same as being preoccupied. If, for instance, Billie were to get hurt, Neil would be concerned. He'd do whatever he could to help out, that wasn't even a question. But it wouldn't make him lose focus when he was tending to his guardly duties.
Any remaining rational sliver in his brain would, later, point out that Innes had been part of way more during this past year than Billie had. The people he truly, down to his core cared for, unwaveringly, loyally, were the ones that Neil had fought with. The ones who had supported him, kept him going. Innes was one of those people. Hell, he was the only motivation Neil had during those miserable weeks on the run with Charlie and Spider, when they all felt hopeless but Innes at least had the head to get them forming plans. Neil didn't want to think about that period, not really, especially since he'd been such a fucking dick to Spider, but it just made his point.
In some way, on some level, Innes was family. Like. By marriage or whatever, so it wasn't creepy and incestuous when they happened to lack clothing, but that heightened state of importance meant, once Neil recognized how fuzzy his goddamn brain was while walking the decks of the fleet, he decided to make some coffee on the Nebraska, then track Innes down and share. An excuse, basically, to sit by the man and stay put until he was convinced Innes was actually going to be fine. Sam had said as much, sure, but.
He was stubborn. And stuff. So, with two mugs of coffee and his brain too jumbled to smirk over the whole coffee thing, Neil made his way onto Rory's boat and found himself directed to the man in question. "Heey," he drawled, a dramatic introduction that would've maybe included a jazz hand or two if Innes could see him. Which Innes couldn't. Which was the whole fucking problem. "Thirsty?" Casual. Not like he'd be fretting once he took a seat on the sofa thing Innes was resting on. Nope. Not like that at all.