selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist:

Carlos made it to the workshop without incident. He supposed
everybody knew Hancock’s business was Hancock’s business. Once inside he
gathered up the blankets and some of the work cloths and started to make a sort
of bed in the corner. He’d been meaning to get a cot in there for when he
worked longer nights… he wished he’d done it already, but this would have to
do.

Carlos lay down and curled in on himself underneath his
labcoat. He spent a long time awake, just angry and unhappy with himself. There
were so many things he should have done… He should have done so much better.

Outside he could hear someone shouting. Some drifter being
thrown out of the Third Rail by Ham. Even further away there was gunfire –
probably from the Supermutant encampment. Carlos didn’t know when he fell asleep.

When Hancock woke the next morning, stiff and sore, he was disappointed to find he was still alone. Despite everything, how badly he’d screwed up, how upset Carlos had seemed, a part of him had still expected the other man to return. With a shaky sigh, the ghoul picked himself up of the floor, straightening his clothes out and composing himself enough to walk across the hall without drawing too much attention.

Back in his lounge, Hancock ordered the Watchmen outside not to let anyone but the scientist in then shut the doors behind him. Back in the privacy of his room–– and the bulk of his stash–– the ghoul broke into the chems again, dosing himself with a cocktail of drugs to keep his nerves at bay for a while then taking up a spot on the couch to sit and stare at the ceiling until Carlos came back….. if he came back.

Carlos woke from a dreamless sleep. He didn’t immediately feel any better. In fact, he was very disappointed that what happened last night hadn’t just been a dream. Dammit…

He started to sit up from his little ‘nest’. But suddenly, Carlos froze with a small yelp when his back ached in protest at the movement. Well, that wasn’t going to go away any time soon. His day was just getting better already. He finished sitting up and started to look for his Pip-Boy. But it wasn’t there.

Oh no… he left it in the Statehouse, didn’t he? He couldn’t go back for it. He wasn’t ready to face Hancock. He… he couldn’t. Hancock would see him and he might want to talk about it and Carlos… he just wasn’t ready for it. He didn’t know if he’d ever be ready. Right now, he was willing to leave his Pip-Boy out of his reach because he was just… he was scared. Besides, who said Hancock even wanted to see him after what happened? Carlos didn’t even want to be with himself.

He needed to work. He needed to do something – feel productive. Show that he was still somewhat useful, despite… despite how hard he fell last night. He got up and ignored the twinge of hunger in his stomach as he started to take apart one of the generators he had to work on and clean the parts.