the-perfect-scientist :

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.

After a while–– Hancock couldn’t be sure how long it really was with the combination of jet and med-x in his system–– the ghoul picked himself up, staggering over to the pantry to dig out a box of sugar bombs and bring it back to the couch. He shed his signature coat again, tossing it carelessly over the back of the couch, along with the vest, and laying back on the cushions to take up his post again. His eyes were blurry, struggling to focus on the stain on the ceiling he’d been staring at and his movements robotic as he slowly picked cereal out of the box, one piece at a time to eat. He’d be there for the foreseeable future, huffing more jet whenever he happened to remember why he’d come in in the first place and picking at his cereal until Carlos came back or he lost consciousness again, whichever came first.

Carlos was starving. How long had he been working? He had no
idea – he was getting a little delirious and he realized he’d been cleaning the
same part for a good thirty minutes. The generator was almost entirely clean so
he’d had to have been there for hours. He needed to eat something and he spent
a good while trying to convince himself to leave.

His caps were still in the Statehouse, so Carlos had to go
back. Just something small, he told himself; maybe a carrot or a single
mutfruit. Just enough to hold him over so he could come back… if he managed to
avoid Hancock. Or if Hancock didn’t even want to see him; that’d be… easier. In
only a couple ways.

Finally Carlos put down the cloth and started for the door.
He built up enough motivation to reach the door and open it without any pause
and he was back out in Goodneighbor. However, he jumped when he noticed a
figure leaning against the wall of the warehouse. Fahrenheit was glaring at him
under the fringe of her hair. Was that a glare? She always looked like she was
glaring.

She didn’t say a word, just looked at him. It took Carlos a
few moments, trying to convince himself the she wasn’t going to hurt him
(despite the look she gave him) and he finally turned away and started walking
down the alley. He felt her gaze heavy and piercing on his back, and when he
reached the stoop he was almost shaking.

Carlos almost jumped inside the Statehouse and he shut the
door behind him. A Neighborhood Watchman shifted his gun when Carlos came in,
but he seemed to relax almost immediately. Carlos looked at his feet and
started up the spiral staircase, trying not to make any more noise than
necessary.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist:

The key wasn’t in the lounge area. Where the hell could it
be? Carlos was getting frustrated as he opened drawers only to find drug paraphernalia.
He was getting frustrated with himself and he coughed, trying to suppress
another fit of sobbing. Carlos sniffed.

This was fine. It would be fine. He could just head to the
attic and find a nice corner. Maybe the other drifters wouldn’t bother him…

No, that was stupid and he knew it. Any sign of weakness
shown to complete strangers and he was opening himself up to getting assaulted and
mugged – even if he didn’t have anything on him. As much as he thought he
deserved it… some part of him knew that he’d regret it in the future. Either
that, or it was scared. Yeah, sounded about right… too scared to face
consequences.

A fleeting thought went through Carlos’ head and, following
it, he patted at his pockets. He realized that below the lump the underwear
made in his pocket he felt something hard. Carlos scoffed, unhappy with the
discovery, and reached in to pull out the key. It was in his pocket the whole
damn time. He must’ve looked like a pathetic idiot with how he’d been looking for it.

Carlos groaned and scrubbed at his face hard with his hands.
Keep it together… just keep it together until he could find safety in his… the workshop. He’d deal with everything
tomorrow. He left the room and went down the spiral staircase. He realized that
Neighborhood Watch was looking at him, but he kept his head down and willed for
them not to talk to him or ask him anything.

Once it became obvious Carlos wasn’t coming back, Hancock gave in to his urges completely, going through every chem stashed in his room that he thought might help him calm down, along with a second bottle of whiskey. Eventually, the ghoul ended up slumped in the corner, head hanging low and bottle still in hand as he drifted off.

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.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist:

Keep reading

Keep reading

The key wasn’t in the lounge area. Where the hell could it
be? Carlos was getting frustrated as he opened drawers only to find drug paraphernalia.
He was getting frustrated with himself and he coughed, trying to suppress
another fit of sobbing. Carlos sniffed.

This was fine. It would be fine. He could just head to the
attic and find a nice corner. Maybe the other drifters wouldn’t bother him…

No, that was stupid and he knew it. Any sign of weakness
shown to complete strangers and he was opening himself up to getting assaulted and
mugged – even if he didn’t have anything on him. As much as he thought he
deserved it… some part of him knew that he’d regret it in the future. Either
that, or it was scared. Yeah, sounded about right… too scared to face
consequences.

A fleeting thought went through Carlos’ head and, following
it, he patted at his pockets. He realized that below the lump the underwear
made in his pocket he felt something hard. Carlos scoffed, unhappy with the
discovery, and reached in to pull out the key. It was in his pocket the whole
damn time. He must’ve looked like a pathetic idiot with how he’d been looking for it.

Carlos groaned and scrubbed at his face hard with his hands.
Keep it together… just keep it together until he could find safety in his… the workshop. He’d deal with everything
tomorrow. He left the room and went down the spiral staircase. He realized that
Neighborhood Watch was looking at him, but he kept his head down and willed for
them not to talk to him or ask him anything.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Keep reading

Keep reading

Carlos spent so much time just sitting in the tub. As soon
as the door was shut he dropped his face into his knees and just cried. However
he still tried to keep quiet – he didn’t want his voice to carry through the
entire Statehouse because it would just make it awkward for everyone. Why was he even here? He should have just perished with the
rest of his team all those months ago. He didn’t really have a choice on the
matter, but maybe things would have been better. Hancock deserved someone
better – someone more worth opening up to because Carlos just fucked it all up.

It felt like hours and Carlos was already feeling exhausted.
He needed to get out of the tub – he couldn’t just sleep there. And Hancock
would need to use the bathroom at some point. Slowly, almost like he was a
Protectron, Carlos got himself out of the tub. Nobody was there to watch him,
but he still kept his head down and dried himself off as well as he could with
almost numb motions.

He hung the towel back up and drained the tub. He got his
clothes back on – the dirty ones – and gathered up the underwear he grabbed for
both of them to shove in his pocket.

Carlos quickly rubbed at his face and took a long,
shuddering breath before he opened the door and stepping outside. He almost
expected Hancock to be standing outside or in the lounge waiting for him, but
Carlos halfway relieved when he didn’t see him. But he was also half-way
disappointed.

Probably for the
better, he told himself as he looked for the key to the warehouse. No, it
wasn’t exactly his own place – nothing out here was – but it was away from
Hancock, and hopefully someplace that the other man wouldn’t need to go to any time soon. Carlos had a few blankets down there in his workspace… he could spend the night. Maybe a night alone would help him function in the morning. Where was that damn key?

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Keep reading

Keep reading

Carlos made a little yelping noise in horrified shock. No! his mind screamed, as his mouth
couldn’t form the words. It’s not Hancock’s
fault! It’s not your fault!!

He hiccupped and made a soft, distressed moaning sound.
Carlos wriggled his hand out of Hancock’s grip and wrapped his arm around
himself to hug himself tightly. He wanted to run – run so that Hancock didn’t
have to look at his ugly crying face and feel bad about it. But that would
require moving, which immediately wasn’t possible. Hancock was still
practically on top of him. And in addition, Carlos was naked. He felt so
exposed and raw already — he didn’t want to try uncurling and getting up to
get his clothes on.

But he might have to. He wanted to be alone so badly.

selfmedicatingmayor:

the-perfect-scientist :

Keep reading

Keep reading

Carlos’ heart lurched and he felt himself begin to panic
again. Hancock was disappointed, and in his fragile emotional state this was devastating to Carlos. Am I ever going to stop fucking up? Apparently
not because he didn’t even need to say a word to hurt people he cared about!

He hadn’t been speaking because he didn’t want to cry again.
But his eyes and nose burned anyway with oncoming tears as he silently began to
berate himself anew. What is wrong with
me? No, really, what the FUCK is wrong with me?? Why the hell am I even
here – what on Earth made me think it was okay to stay here in the first
place!?

Carlos tried to keep himself together. He swallowed around
the painful lump in this throat and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to
clear out the tears. He sniffed and kept trying to wash Hancock’s back as
steady as he could.

He didn’t deserve Hancock. Carlos had been stuck in a vault
for too long and he clearly wasn’t cut out for relationships – much less one
with a ghoul, if Carlos was just going to be an ass and not be okay with things. He… God. He was just garbage.

Carlos stopped washing Hancock. The hand holding the
washcloth dropped into the water and the other hand left Hancock’s shoulder to
cover Carlos’ face. The tears wouldn’t stop and his throat hurt from the
tightness of him trying to hold back the noise that wanted to come out. He wasn’t
going to do this in a bathtub… please, God, don’t let him do this in a bathtub
with Hancock right there!

ravagewhistler:

the-perfect-scientist:

((okay… how do I explain it to my family that I don’t want to see Infinity War because I have anxiety and ASD, the latter which makes it tough for me to separate movies from reality on an emotional level, and I’d really rather not have an anxiety attack in the middle of a theatre or be dropped into a month-long depression because fictional characters died, even though I know that logically it’s not real?

What has been said by my step-mom: “You need to develop coping mechanisms”, “You can just get over anxiety”, “It’s not real! [the movie]”

I’m not gonna see it for a while. A friend spoiled the deaths for me and I just…. I cried all day because I’m just like you with that separation of movies and such. When Yondu died I just…. Yeah.”

((I’m sorry :c I did get a list of some of the deaths and currently tumblr is one by one filling in the gaps.

I already go through life floating on a cloud of disassociation – I emotionally experience things from reality to TV on roughly the same level. And When I do show emotions, I feel them in the extreme.

I cried hard when Yondu died. I’d rather not feel like the world is going to end, thanks.

((okay… how do I explain it to my family that I don’t want to see Infinity War because I have anxiety and ASD, the latter which makes it tough for me to separate movies from reality on an emotional level, and I’d really rather not have an anxiety attack in the middle of a theatre or be dropped into a month-long depression because fictional characters died, even though I know that logically it’s not real?

What has been said by my step-mom: “You need to develop coping mechanisms”, “You can just get over anxiety”, “It’s not real! [the movie]”

help me please, i’m so scared i’m gonna hurt myself again but i’m not sure i’m strong enough to stop myself… god, i’m sorry, this was stupid…

((Uh… I can’t tell if this is ooc or not, but I’m going to err on the side that it is.

Reaching out is not stupid. I am absolutely glad that you did! Thank you so much for messaging me.

If you feel like hurting yourself, grab some ice. Take an ice cube and hold it in your fist. It’s a grounding technique as well as a way to ‘hurt’ yourself without actually doing any real lasting harm. Because what you need really is a way to ground yourself.

I promise that you’re caught up in emotions right now – purely emotions. It doesn’t seem like it at all, I know, but when you’re upset sometimes your brain does a thing where it tries to think of ways to fuel your malcontent – by telling you people don’t appreciate you or that you’re not good enough or whatever else is going through your head. I promise you that this is just a wave and it will pass. I promise – after you’ve grounded yourself, had a good cry, and maybe a nap, you will feel better. Exhausted, yes, but not in emotional pain.

Please, don’t hurt yourself. Take an ice cube and just hold it. Focus on the chill and the wetness and the stinging sensation it gives. Look around yourself and identify objects. Look at the texture of a wall or on your shoelace or something – something finely detailed that will occupy your mind with an observable pattern to help you feel a sense of order.

Take care of yourself… you’re in pain now, but I promise that it will go away. Please.

OK Go – This Too Shall Pass