Under the cover of the night, moving through the city would be easier. More things to look out for but the dark worked in their favor this time. As long as they moved quietly. Daniel knew the area, he was leading the way, York dragging slowly behind him, a gun in his healthy hand, just in case, and Dogmeat right at his heels. They had to stop once, hide behind a wall as a group of super mutants walked right past them. Close enough to hear their words, if any were spoken. They slipped through the broken windows, into a building to pass through it, out into a more open area. Sticking to the shadows, Dogmeat sniffing for enemies, they managed to avoid anyone - or anything - until they reached the place Eli pointed them to. It was in an apartment building, a very inconspicuous place. Once inside, Daniel reached for the switch with a dim, red light near it. With a flip, it lit up the room as a generator started humming somewhere behind a wall. He sighed with relief. “Finally,” he said, holstering his weapon. “I’m gonna see if I can find some beer in the kitchen,” he made his way there, not bothering to wait for York to answer him. The kitchen was stocked. Shelves packed with canned food and veggies, bottled water, RadAway laying next to sugar bombs. A treat for the ghouls, he figured. The fridge that was there wasn’t working, the light inside was but it wasn’t cooling. There was only one bottle of beer, so he grabbed that for himself and a Nuka Cola for York. Surely no one would notice those went missing. After opening them and throwing the caps in his pocket, he went to find York, who was now sitting on the couch in the living room, a jukebox playing some song Daniel’s heard on the radio a million times. He sat next to him and handed him the bottle. “I guess I should thank you,” he broke the silence between them. York gave him a confused look. “For all of this, I mean,” he was starting to feel like he shouldn’t have said anything. Listing all the things York had done for him would take too long and Daniel was far too proud for that anyway. “You know, giving me a chance. Just thought I’d say I appreciate that,” he raised the bottle and drank from it, then set it down on the table. “Anyway. I’m gonna get changed. Let’s finish our drinks when I get back, if you’re not asleep by then,” he left the room so quickly he didn’t even catch York’s reaction. Had to get back to grab his bag anyway and York seemed to just be humming the song to himself. Daniel found the bathroom and removed all his clothes. There was dried mud all over his pants, blood stains on his sleeves, not to mention his sweat all over. He folded the clothes up and as he stood naked in front of the mirror, a shower he saw in the corner of his eye grabbed his attention. Showers were usually just the remnants of the old world. The pipes have been empty for centuries. In most places, they were repurposed - everything was there, you’d just need to bring your own water to get cleaned up. Out of curiosity, not even expecting anything, Daniel unscrewed the tap and the rusty pipes shook a little before the water started flowing. He chuckled to himself and jumped right in. Despite the cold temperature and the weak pressure, he loved the way the water hit his skin. He could scrub all the dirt and smell off of himself. Clean old scratches he’d forgotten about, get rid of the sand that was sitting in his hair for ages. It felt like along with dirty water going down the drain, so did the memories of this long, exhausting day. And finally he could breathe again. After what felt like half an hour at least, he returned to the living room, wearing only a clean pair of boxers, as he couldn’t find a spare towel laying around, his skin was still wet and he didn’t even mind. To his surprise, York wasn’t asleep yet. Even more of a surprise was seeing him with his shades off. They were laying folded on the table. “There’s a working shower,” he said, grabbing his bottle and sitting down. “I’m glad we walked all this way here.”
Once the high had worn off, the day’s events were strange distorted. York could hardly understand what had happened since they stepped into Greentech. He knew there were Gunners, he knew he had killed a fair amount of them. He knew he had broken his fingers against a Courser’s skull, but the details were... sketchy, at best. Eli had given him some idea of what had happened - not much, but enough to get the idea that maybe he should stay away from that particular drug. At least for now.
Maybe until his hand healed up. He spent the walk to Eli’s apartment frowning at his splinted fingers, at Daniel’s back, and giving Dogmeat long suffering looks. The dog didn’t spare him much more than a second’s glance, busy sniffing along the road as they walked. The sniper on his back was a heavy weight, his hand hurt like hell, and York felt more and more useless with each step.
They had to hide from mutants for fuck’s sake. He’d shot more of those green bastards in the skull than he could count and yet... Well. Supposed it was his own fault.
Inside the apartment, he watched Daniel go straight for the fridge. The kitchen was small, edged onto the living area. There was a radio in there and York walked past where Dogmeat had collapsed on the floor with a huff to reach for it. The only stations may be classical and Diamond City Radio but he could listen to some old songs for a bit. It tuned in at the end of one of the DJ’s weird rambling ‘news updates’ and then coasted straight into the music.
With a sigh, York dropped his pack to his feet, set his rifle carefully against the wall, and then leaned into the couch. The area a television would have sat before all this was taken up by a ramshackle fireplace, the old wood inside unlit. The lantern, also dark, sat on the window sill above him. York accepted the cola from Daniel, eyes locked on the fireplace, and as soon as Daniel disappeared into another room, York set it aside. He pulled his pack back to him and dug inside for Med-X.
He shot a brief look at Dogmeat, syringes in hand. The dog was already fast asleep. “Guess it’s safe enough here, huh?” York said to the sleeping animal. “Can’t blame me for this.”
A part of him knew he shouldn’t take too much of this. Not on a good day, definitely not after having already been high once. And on something else, too.
Did chems mix like that?
In the quiet of the apartment, he heard water falling. A vague thought of a shower - of hot water scalding the aches from his muscles - passed his mind and then York lined up the syringe of Med-X to the vein in his right arm, the injured one. The effect was slow but easy, much more relaxing that the mess Hancock had given him earlier that day. He had given himself a second dose within five minutes, removing his shades with a heavy sigh. Those were set aside on the table near him, beside the lukewarm cola.
He yawned, stretching his arms over his head. The splinted fingers hardly twinged - fucking Med-X was amazing. York was drifting by the time Daniel came back, blinking himself back to alertness as the other man sat beside him. “Shower?” he repeated quietly. “No kidding. Eli always was good at fixing stuff.” He considered getting up for his own shower and only folded his arms over his stomach instead. “Is there any hot water? Don’t think I’ll bother tonight otherwise.”
