A/N: I'm just... gonna ignore that it's basically been a year since I last updated this story.


Charmer stayed with him for those few hours while he dozed in and out of sleep.

Drummer Boy would only wake up whenever Charmer got up to leave, which wasn't often by any means; the man only stepped out to speak with Desdemona or Carrington from time to time, whenever the other two were available- which again, wasn't often. Charmer never stayed gone for too long either, just enough to say a few words, and ask a few questions, before he came back and settled in again.

The longest he stayed away was when he was speaking with a few of the other Heavies that had stepped by to report in.

Charmer had asked if he was needed anywhere else, but Drummer Boy got the feeling he only asked out of obligation; he didn't think Charmer actually had any intentions of going anywhere- not unless it was urgent.

For the most part, since reports were down, a majority of their agents remained indoors- sparing themselves from the blistering cold outside.

They weren't running any long-term runs anyways; everything coming down the line was mostly pit stops and tag-ins.

(It didn't help that the latest report of a Courser in the area wasn't exactly wanted news.)

So for now, the Railroad was hunkering down and keeping its head low, slowing productivity while they were at it, but it was necessary.

It was... quiet.

"You alright?" Charmer asked, for what was probably the fifth time that hour.

And Drummer Boy couldn't blame him for asking.

It wasn't like he could hide the painful burning sensation that was rubber-banding up and down his arm.

"For the most part," Drummer Boy offered as an answer- and took in the disapproving look Charmer showed in response. He chuckled lightly at the sight of it, feeling as though neither one of them was putting the other in a good place right now. "Alright, I give. If you want to look at it, you can. Carrington's busy at the moment anyways, and he trusts you."

"You up for it?"

A bit of hesitation on Charmer's part now, which was expected.

"I don't really have much of a choice, unless I want pus to start leaking out of it again," Drummer Boy replied, earning a grimaced look from the man now. "I'd rather just get this over with."

As comfortable as he had made himself to be underneath the fortress of donated jackets and coats, he knew it was only inevitable for him to have to crawl out of it from time to time. And it was true that when it came to changing the bandages, he'd rather just get it over with as quick and painlessly as he could- so he could equally try and sleep it off as quickly as he could.

With some needed assistance from Charmer, Drummer Boy reluctantly got to his feet, and tried not to pass out as soon as he stood up.

Carrington said it was the constant fever, the loss of blood, and the overall bodily trauma that was making him wish he was dead every time he did anything other than sleep.

And given how many times they had had to get up and run on a seconds notice, especially around the first time he had been shot, Drummer Boy guessed he had forgotten just how long proper recovery actually took. And not the kind of recovery that got people addicted to painkillers just so they could keep running.

Carefully discarding his jacket, Drummer Boy moved to the chair that Carrington had pulled into the back hallway for easier examinations, and forced himself down onto it. Fingers started to undo the pins that were holding his sleeve together, cut from collar to cuff again, before Charmer took over the process- making easier work of the fine pining.

But Drummer Boy took over and pulled the sleeve down where Charmer seemed to hesitate in doing so, revealing the padded bandage underneath.

He had been painfully cut out of his previously blood-soaked, half-frozen shirt, but between changing the bandages, the clean one had gotten blood-stained just as well. He probably needed to switch into another clean one, but that was asking a little too much of him right now.

"Just as a forewarning," Drummer Boy started, allowing Charmer to take over with the bandage removal, "I got shot from the back, so this-" he emphasized by carefully patting the thick bandage, "- is the exit wound."

Charmer gave a silent grimace and nodded before he began to cut the tape along his shoulder first; he was easy with the precise cutting, and careful with peeling the tape back- reminding him of Charmer's skills as a medic. Once his shoulder had been cut free, Drummer Boy pulled his shirt open just enough for Charmer to peel away the pieces that had been taped across the front of his chest.

The former medic either must've borrowed Carrington's tools, which was damn near impossible to do, so that was unlikely, or he had managed to salvage together some makeshift ones for himself, which was equally as unlikely.

Or maybe they were from his pre-war collection, it was hard to tell.

But given that Charmer was actually wearing gloves, he was banking on it being from a pre-war supply.

"Hey, whoa, easy Charmer," Drummer Boy objected, as he felt warm fingertips pressing against his abdomen now, making the waxy, blistered skin feel like it was cracking under the touch. He watched as the man jerked away at the remark, pulling his hand out from the partial cut down the side of his shirt. "I get that I'm your patient now, but a little warning next time would be nice."

"Sorry! I just- I thought I saw something odd," Charmer apologized, looking sheepish at the words, before he added, "I didn't mean to spook you."

Charmer seemed nervous enough as it was, and Drummer Boy wondered if this was his first time experiencing a relatively major injury in the Commonwealth.

After all, it wasn't like there was much else besides this in terms of medicine or healing around here. Let alone a sterile environment.

"It's fine," Drummer Boy assured, settling back down some, "you just caught me by surprise, is all- I wasn't expecting to get groped during the examination."

Charmer's reaction alone was enough to give him something to laugh at; the man sputtered with trying to find his words while a quick shade of red had already colored him flustered in the face. It was too good of a chance to pass up, and to see Charmer so dumbfounded over the remark was a nice break in the bleakness that had been his life for the past few days.

Even if it was, unfairly, at the man's expense.

"Here," Drummer Boy offered, in a chance for redemption, "we'll do a warm-up before we get into the main digging here."

"I don't like that you phrased it that way."

"Talk to Carrington about it."

Leaning back in the chair, Drummer Boy reached down and grabbed at the hem of his shirt before he pulled it up, showing off the patch of frostbite that had eaten his skin down to blisters and had formed a wax-like coating around them. The skin was an odd grayish-reddish hue now, spotted between the patches of boiled blisters, and peeled remains of the ones that had already been lanced open.

"Jesus-"

"You know, in case you ever want to know what happens when you bleed and sweat through a shirt, and then have it freeze against your skin," Drummer Boy replied, before he carefully placed fingertips just a few inches above his hip; the skin there looked more like it had been ripped off rather than frozen. "It starts about here, and then goes all the way up to the main point, up here," he continued, as he dragged his fingers up to his shoulder. "Well, I guess more like it started up and then bled down."

Charmer didn't offer much in a vocal response.

But the man did hesitantly move a hand to his abdomen, although he only seemed to hover over the blistering skin this time.

"Yeah, I can uh… I can see that," Charmer started, after several seconds of silence. "It looks like Carrington took care of most of these, but you're running a high risk of infection with them like this."

"Well, believe me, Charmer, this is the least of my concerns- and the least of yours as well," Drummer Boy assured, although the words didn't seem to make their mark given Charmer's resulting expression.

And he supposed the words really weren't that reassuring to begin with.

But he figured the least he could do was give Charmer a decent enough heads up to the kind of physical pain he was in right now.

"Alright, let's cut the bullshit then, shall we?"

Charmer seemed to hesitate with the offer before he gave a nod in agreement.

"Yeah, let's see this monster."

Drummer Boy pulled his shirt back over his frostbitten skin, before he forced himself back up into a straightened position in the chair.

He decided to let Charmer make the first move in the unveiling.

With cautious fingers, Charmer pulled back on the padded bandage, and slowly peeled it down and away from him. Drummer Boy winced as the motion tugged at his skin; he could feel how the dead flesh had melted onto the pressed gauze, and he could feel the way it was being peeled off with it too.

And then the smell hit him.

It was a mix of burnt skin and whatever fumigating medicine Carrington had been using to treat the wound with.

Even after all this time in dealing with the wound personally, Drummer Boy still felt himself gag at the smell.

Somehow Charmer was able to keep himself quiet as he worked to remove the bandage, attempting to do so without causing any additional injury to the wound- or cause Drummer Boy any additional pain over it. But it was easy to see the tension in the man's face growing as he peeled more and more off, revealing the full extent of the laser wound.

Eventually the man peeled the gauze off in one piece and carefully set it aside for later disposal in the fire pits outside.

Drummer Boy could feel the cold draft of the back corridor blowing against the injury- and as exaggerated as it was, he swore he could feel the draft pass through what was essentially the open hole in his shoulder.

"I don't- I'm having a really hard time figuring out what I'm looking at," Charmer admitted, quiet at that.

Once more, the man seemed completely out of his element.

And considering that this was sort of Charmer's field of expertise, it probably wasn't making the man feel too confident in himself.

"There's a couple of layers to it," Drummer Boy assured, as he moved his good hand to the injury. "So, obvious observations first: the laser round hit me from the back and blew out the front here; believe it or not, it's a pretty clean through-and-through. Hard to say what the distance was exactly, but since the round passed through completely, it was too close.

"The round was still hot and it sort of cauterized the entry wound but it lost stability and the excess energy formed the explosive exit wound here. Most of the tissue on the inside got burnt pretty bad though, so as of right now, it's gotten pretty infected- lucky me. Honestly, if we left it at that, it wouldn't be too bad of a wound; it's not the most severe that we've seen around here-"

"I would care to argue that," Charmer interjected. The man reached out to examine the wound himself, and once more, he made sure that his fingers only hovered over it. "Burnt tissue is nothing to downplay, especially given the infection risk- and sepsis is always a possibility, although it would've been evident by now given that you're still alive."

Finally some good news then.

Charmer paused to give himself some time to his thoughts, possibly to take in and formulate whatever it was that he was seeing; his eyes never looked away from the exposed wound.

"It's not- it's not the burns I'm worried about though..." Charmer finally continued, gesturing to portions of the injury as he spoke. "You've got frostbite covering this thing as well. Good news is that it seems like it's an early stage two, but again, these blisters are carrying more infection-risks with them- and that on top of the burnt skin-"

"Carrington's already removed most of the dead skin," Drummer Boy assured. "Right now he's waiting to see if the blistering will go down on its own- and if not, he'll just puncture them himself before they swell up any further. It's... it's not pretty, but it's five days worth of mixed healing and I'm not dead yet, so it's been a successful run so far."

Charmer didn't seem the least bit convinced by his remark, but he didn't have to be.

It wasn't like he had a choice.

The man spent a few more minutes looking the injury over, probably stuck in the persistent cycle of just being unable to look away.

It was interesting to watch him.

Interesting to see those hazel eyes of his at work. He was unable to take in any physical aspect of the injury, so he was having to soak it all in through sight alone- which couldn't have been any easier really. The man was all the more welcomed to touch it, even though Drummer Boy would've preferred that he didn't, but if it made his medical examination easier, than by all means.

After all, Carrington never seemed to mind.

Drummer Boy felt the way Charmer's hand brushed against his bicep for a moment, before it carefully drifted down to his own hand.

"Can you squeeze my fingers?" Charmer requested.

And Drummer Boy did, or at least he tried.

He could still feel that burning tightness pull up along his arm, like one big knot was trying to move under his skin. His fingers curled together, just barely getting themselves around Charmer's, before he made the attempt to squeeze them. Even knowing that he was urging his body with the motion, it still felt like it did nothing.

Disappointing, but not surprising.

"Can you straighten your arm out?" Charmer pressed for next.

"I'm gonna go ahead and say no," he replied, "- or at least, I'll be frank with you and tell that I'm not even going to try."

Charmer offered a brief chuckle, although it was probably more out of sympathy than anything. "We don't have to test it now, but it's something we'll want to check out later- maybe when the motion won't risk having your arm fall off."

Funny guy.

"You mind if I look at the entry wound?"

"Knock yourself out," Drummer Boy replied. "I hear it's not as popular as this one though."

A more genuine sort of chuckle escaped Charmer this time, as the man moved himself into a better position of observation. Drummer Boy leaned forward enough for Charmer to remove the bandage on his back, and felt the cold press of the man's palm against the back of his ribs.

"Yeah, it's a cleaner shot at least- still not good, but not nearly as bad as the front is," Charmer spoke- and Drummer Boy was under the impression that the man was speaking more to himself. "At least we can prioritize this."

That was a word for it.

Drummer Boy assumed that Carrington must've ran Charmer through the steps he usually took for cleaning and maintaining his injuries. And knowing Carrington, it was more than just a quick explanation- and there were probably a few loose threats thrown in there for any missed steps. As rough around the edges as Carrington could be with agents and patients alike, it went without saying that the doctor was very protective over those he tended to. Sometimes it was almost like the good doctor acted as though he was the only one competent enough to keep them alive. And it was worth mentioning that the good doctor might have a point with that one.

Charmer didn't say much as he went about cleaning the few stitches Carrington had managed to put in to close the entry wound; although it went without saying that the man was probably running countless silent statements through his head instead.

It didn't take long for Charmer to re-bandage the back wound either.

Of course, the front injury was another story.

Drummer Boy tried to keep as still and patient as he could as Charmer went through each painstaking step. First was coating on another dosage of ointment after scraping the previous layer of medicine off, followed by adding the additional padding to soak up any remaining pus or moisture, and then smearing a different kind of medicine on the skin before tying it all up in gauze.

At the very least, Charmer had a gentler touch than Carrington did, which made the process a little less painful- although it was easy to tell that the man was out of his element with this one.

(At this point, Drummer Boy wasn't sure who was more pale between the two of them.)

And by the end of it, Drummer Boy was reminded of why he really hated these sessions.

As necessary as they were to his survival, they were far from helping him it felt.

"Alright, you should be good to go for a few more hours," Charmer started, as though the words were supposed to be reassuring.

"Thanks for stepping in," Drummer Boy replied, glad that Charmer had started to re-pin his shirt on his own. Given how badly his hand was shaking, he didn't think he would've been able to pull it off. "I'm sure this is something neither of us want to repeat ever again."

"Well, I'm not going to say that that's a lie," Charmer remarked, as he finished pinning the collar of his shirt closed, hiding the bandage back underneath it. The man gave the sleeve a subtle tug, as though to make sure that the material hung loose and relax across his shoulder, before he seemed content with the work.

Charmer discarded his latex gloves with the bloodied bandages, and instinctively seemed to brush his hands off on his shirt. Perhaps following some kind of pre-war protocol, Charmer pressed the back of his hand against his forehead, and then down to his cheek, where it lingered a little longer. Drummer Boy found the clear difference in their body temperature to be surprising, enough so that he felt a chill when Charmer's cold skin touched his face.

"You're burning up."

It seemed more like a statement than anything.

"I feel more cold than anything," Drummer Boy replied, unsure if that really helped his case any.

And given Charmer's quiet sigh, it didn't.

Drummer Boy felt the way Charmer's hand moved away from his cheek before it dropped to cradle his jaw. And he found himself leaning into the touch, feeling the way Charmer pulled his head in closer to him.

"You need anything? I got some great Brahmin beef stew leftover from the Abernathy's; it would do wonders for your health."

At one point, Brahmin beef stew might've sounded like a heaven sent- but not now.

"I'm fine," Drummer Boy assured, "- unless you want me to puke it back on you in ten minutes."

"Uh, I'll just hold on to it then."

"Yeah, I figured," he chuckled, before he slowly pushed himself to his feet. "I think uh... I think I'm just going to walk around for a bit and stretch my legs- and hope I don't pass out on my own."

Despite how just standing up made him feel dizzy and nauseous, after three days of basically not moving, it felt like the inactivity was only making him more sick. The first time Drummer Boy had managed to walk to the other end of the back corridor, the overexertion alone caused him to throw up twice- once being on Glory.

Still, despite the debilitating weakness afterwards, the ability to move about and get his blood flowing again was a refreshing start.

All he wanted to do was get a few steps in at a time, and start the slow progress of getting back to a working state.

(If only the frostbite wasn't such an issue; he'd kill for a breath of fresh air right now.)

Carrington had chided him before for being up and about, but when Drummer Boy complained that sitting down all the time was making his back and hips ache, the good doctor seemed to relent on the topic.

A wound was a wound despite how well it healed or not.

But Drummer Boy always got the impression that Carrington felt like he didn't do as well as he had thought when it came to treating the wound from Switchboard. Considering the situation and the conditions they were dealing with at the time, Drummer Boy was lucky he wasn't dead; as far as he was concerned, Carrington had done his job, the rest was just what he would have to live with.

Not that Carrington would ever admit to a subpar job, but... the guilt seemed to lie underneath the man somewhere.

Despite the constant feeling of vertigo, Drummer Boy made it down most of the hallway with Charmer, but he stopped at the corridor opening to catch his breath. Charmer continued on and eventually disappeared through the back entrance, looking to burn the bloodied bandages in the deep pit fire they kept hidden out back. Everything seemed to hurt at once, leaving a hollow, throbbing pain that moved from his shoulder down to his hips and then back up again.

It wasn't as bad as it was before though.

It wasn't anything he couldn't handle.

"Drummer."

He looked up at the call and watched as Desdemona cut her discussion with Tinker Tom short, handing off what looked to be a mess of papers to the engineer, before she headed towards him.

It wasn't often that the Railroad Alpha let herself be seen as anything other than what she was.

Stern; impassable; bones of steel- those sorts of things.

But when the times called for it, she wasn't afraid to break that illusion down with her own hands.

"It's good to see you up and moving around," she remarked.

"Yeah, and hopefully not making a mess this time," Drummer Boy replied, "- unless Glory's around."

"No, she took off as soon as she heard you were waking up," Desdemona chuckled, showing off her rarely heard of sense of humor. The woman crossed her arms, but for once she didn't seem stern by any means; if anything, she looked concerned- but also a touch unsure of how to handle the situation. "You look like shit, but I take it you're getting used to it by now."

"Unfortunately," Drummer Boy sighed. "I tell you, being stuck down here for five days will make you actually want to risk going outside just for some fresh air."

"Carrington would kill you," she reminded.

"It'd be a mercy killing," he remarked.

"Well, you know how Carrington hates mercy," Desdemona replied instead, countering him on his own joke. "I got some business I'm working out with Tom, but if you want a shot of Bourbon the next time Carrington's not around, let me know."

Drummer Boy chuckled at her offer and pushed her off as he turned to head back to his corner. "Hit me up again at two in the morning and we'll split the bottle."

Moving back down the hallway, Drummer Boy noticed that Charmer had come back from outside, and that the man seemed to be in the process of tidying things up a bit- or at least, as much as he could.

"Where'd all these jackets come from?" Charmer questioned, as he had moved most of the stack off to one of the other mattresses. It was hard to deny that there was a good pile of them all over the place, making Drummer Boy wonder just how many of their operatives had come by and dropped one off. And if any of their agents were now running around without one because of it.

"Uh, basically from every agent in the area," he answered. "As soon as Carrington said I couldn't risk being exposed to the cold again because of the frostbite, everyone seemed to take it as a personal challenge to not let me get cold. Damn near suffocated under all of them the first night. Glory thought I had up and left somehow before she found me at the bottom of the pile."

"It's a sweet gesture."

"Yeah, but I'd rather they keep their winter gear and put it to use," Drummer Boy remarked. He stayed back and waited as Charmer seemed set on making the corner seem cozier than it was- which was by no means an easy feat.

He watched the man work and found himself coming to the slow realization that Charmer probably had other plans from here on. There was no doubt that Desdemona already had something else set up for him the first free chance he got- after all, there was never a down moment with the Railroad.

And while Charmer should go forward with that work, for the Railroad's sake, Drummer Boy found himself preemptively missing the man's company.

It manifested as this sort of nagging feeling in his gut, which only made the impending loneliness feel worse.

"So... what are your plans from here?" Drummer Boy asked, deciding to press the matter for what it was worth.

He might as well get a jump start on getting over it anyways.

"Well, I'm clear until tomorrow morning," Charmer answered, as he took a few of the heavier-looking jackets and rolled them together, before he stuffed them along the corner wall. It seemed like the man was making something, although it was hard to tell what it was at this point. "And Desdemona said she had some things that could wait, so I guess you're stuck with me until then."

Drummer Boy wouldn't admit to the shot of relief that came over him.

"It's more like you're stuck with me," he corrected.

"Stuck here, stuck there, it's all the same."


Charmer did end up staying the night with him.

It took some trial and error before Charmer seemed satisfied with how he had everything situated, with how he had filled most of the corner with the assorted jackets and coats that had been made available. And while Drummer Boy thought to question the man on what exactly it was that he was doing, he decided to wait it out instead; it was more fun to watch Charmer anyways.

It ended up with Charmer sitting in the corner instead, acting as a buffer between him and the wall.

The man kept one arm hooked around his waist instead of over his shoulder- careful still with the layer of frostbite that was patched across his abdomen. The padding of coats around acted as additional insulation, while also filling in the curve of his back, somewhat supporting it to reduce some of the strain. It was good planning on Charmer's part, and when it was just himself again, Drummer Boy figured he could continue to move things around to his liking.

"You act like you've done this before," Drummer Boy remarked, as he kept himself tucked underneath Charmer's arm for the time being. Charmer generated a lot of body warmth on his own- well, it was either that or Drummer Boy was just desperate for any sort of heat source to alleviate the chill in his bones.

"I have actually," Charmer replied with a quiet chuckle. "I had a guy take a bad explosive hit off of a rocket before. The explosion didn't really hurt him, neither did the shrapnel; it was actually the getting tossed part that did him in. He smashed into a brick wall pretty hard and the pressure basically collapsed a lung. I had to keep him upright like this throughout the night so he didn't drown from the fluid in his chest cavity. He got flown out the next morning and made it to the hospital in better health than they thought he would."

It seemed rare for Charmer to recall stories from his pre-war life.

It wasn't something he touched on frequently, and it went without saying why he didn't.

"Sounds like something you'd do."

"Oh yeah, I was a Charmer long before you guys were around."

Drummer Boy chuckled and shook his head at the remark. "So, give me your straight opinion then, do you think I'm fucked?"

"What did Carrington say about it?"

A nice deflection to answering the question.

"Not much," he started, offering a half-shrug at best. "He did call me Peyton though, so that's not exactly good news."

"Really?" Charmer questioned, looking surprised by the thought. "Has he ever called you Peyton before?"

"Sure, but the last time he called me by my real name was when I got shot by a Courser the first time," Drummer Boy answered. "- On second thought, I might be seeing a pattern here."

Charmer gave a soft laugh before he leaned down and kissed the top of his head. "Yeah, and I think it's a pattern you might want to put an end to."

"Oh believe me, if it was in my power to do so, I would've stopped it a long time ago," he remarked.

As light-hearted as the conversation was, or felt like it was, he knew it wasn't as light as they were pretending it to be. In all seriousness, it was enough to put a pause to their whole operation here. It was enough to put fear in every agent, on and off the field. As careful as the Railroad was with it's work, it went without saying that sometimes a routine, a habit made things easy; it took the pressure off if everyone knew that all they had to do was follow the same beaten path they had been doing so for weeks on end.

But throw something into a well-oiled machine, and it all comes to a smoking, fiery stop.

That's what happened with Switchboard.

They got too comfortable; they let their guard down.

This Courser was a wake up call for them to stay on their toes and remain alert.

But he didn't want to think about the Courser right now; he was still trying to deal with the damages done from it, twice over now.

"How's your business with the Minutemen?" Drummer Boy offered as a change of topic for the both of them.

It wasn't exactly out of reach, and it was covering a subject they hadn't spoken much about- or rather, didn't speak much about to begin with. In all honestly, Drummer Boy didn't really know how involved Charmer was with the Minutemen in day to day things. He knew that the man had helped the faction get back on its feet and reclaim the Castle, and he knew there were new settlements popping up across the Commonwealth, but that was about it.

It didn't help that Charmer spent a majority of his time here with the Railroad.

So it left questions as to who exactly was running the day to day business.

"Pretty good, I think," Charmer answered, resting his head against Drummer Boy's now. "Preston and Ronnie have everything under control for now, and I've got my affairs in order for the time being. They should be fine without me- not that I was really offering much to begin with, I guess. They know more about what they're doing than I do, so I'm just sort of the ideas guy that hangs around from time to time."

Drummer Boy frowned at the brief remark, finding himself hooked onto a single phrase the man had uttered.

"You've got your affairs in order?" he repeated. "What does that mean?"

Charmer didn't answer immediately and that alone seemed to be answer enough.

The man gave a heavy sigh before he pulled away some- although not by much, considering there wasn't much of anywhere he could've gone. "I'm heading back out into the Glowing Sea soon- tomorrow maybe. There's some unfinished business I have out there and... well, I've been putting it off for long enough. It's not something I've told many people about, and I'd rather keep it as discreet as I can, but I think it'll push us in the right direction in finding the Institute."

Now that was a heavy word Charmer hadn't spoken in a long time now.

There was no doubt that while Charmer was running errands for the Railroad, and also working alongside the Minutemen, the man was doing his own things outside of their knowledge. After all, without fresh information, and with the weather keeping them down, the Railroad had stalled in figuring out more about the Institute. Well, more than them just sending out Coursers to survey the lands- and shoot people.

The Courser had to have been looking for something, or someone.

And right now, with the lack of information, and lack of working hands, they were dead in the water with finding answers.

"You think so?" Drummer Boy questioned.

"Yeah, and hopefully when I make it back... I'll have something useful for us."

Confident words maybe.

"You know, not a lot of people go out to the Glowing Sea, let alone get close to it- I mean, you basically get boiled alive within a few miles of it if you don't have Power Armor at minimum," Drummer Boy started. "So... how far exactly do you go into it? What's it like?"

It was late probably- maybe, hard to tell down here.

He was already exhausted, but he wanted to try and drag out a few more conversations.

Charmer gave a brief sigh as he seemed to be thinking the question over.

"Hard to say, I maybe go a few miles into it at best," he offered in answer. "It gets real hazy after awhile, so it's hard to keep track of things when you're in there. There's a lot of radiation pools and weird shit just kind of swimming around in them. Most of the buildings are gone save for a few places, but they're usually buried under all of the dirt from the bombing site. Lot of Deathclaws out there too, but they're usually doing their own thing and if I mind my own business, we leave each other alone. There's a group of people out there called the Children of Atom who... apparently just absorb the radiation and don't turn into ghouls? They're weird- and kind of hostile, but I escaped them last time because a Radscorpion started messing with their houses."

"The Children of Atom?" Drummer Boy repeated. "That's actually a thing? I thought Piper made them up for a cool story."

"Yeah, imagine my surprise," Charmer replied, as he curled his fingers some into Drummer Boy's side, before he pulled him in closer. "It's just- it's weird, you know? I used to walk around those streets before the bombs dropped, and then seeing the whole place blown up like that... I don't know, I guess it just really put things into perspective. Now everything that happened that day is more than just the bright light I saw on the horizon."

"Is it weird?"

"Oh yeah- indescribable."


When Drummer Boy woke up to find himself alone the next morning, he figured Charmer had already left for the Glowing Sea.

It was a long walk to the irradiated site from the catacombs, and the man would need every hour he could salvage to get over there- and that wasn't even counting the miles he needed to walk into the actual Glowing Sea itself. Nor did it account for whatever might get in his path along the way, or how long it might take him to track down whatever it was, or whoever it was he was searching for in the irradiated zone.

There weren't any real high hopes that someone could survive in the Sea for so long- especially if that someone was unaccustomed to the area.

[Charmer himself included.]

But as Drummer Boy forced himself to his feet once more, desperately needing to stretch his aching legs again, he heard a familiar voice coming from the main room.

"And we're positive that no one else has had a sighting since?"

"We haven't received all of the reports back yet, but so far there hasn't been another reading- not to mention PAM isn't saying much either, and she's the first to jump on the case."

Sighing, full and well knowing the topic at hand, Drummer Boy picked his coat up from the back of the same chair and tried to stifle a groan as he pulled it on. He slipped his right arm through it, but didn't bother to do anything with his left arm; instead, he pulled the coat over his wounded shoulder and let the empty sleeve hang free. He ran his good hand through his hair- a half-assed attempt at making himself seem halfway presentable- before he made his way down the long hallway once more.

His legs were still pretty weak and numb underneath his weight when he walked; they still ached from the two days worth of running- not to mention, sleeping next to the cold floor wasn't exactly helping either. The lack of proper blood flow made his knees feel like they were threatening to lock up on him. But despite the stiff pain from walking, he knew it was the only way to get himself warmed up and moving again.

Reaching the halfway point of the corridor, Drummer Boy stepped through the opening and into the main room of the catacombs. It was oddly quiet, but given that most of the Heavies had already cleared out for the morning, Glory included, it wasn't surprising.

Carrington was gone once again, which also wasn't surprising.

And it seemed like Tinker Tom had finally worked himself to passing out at his terminal... again.

"Drummer Boy, good to see you're finally awake again," Desdemona spoke from her usual place of decision-making; her desk against the far wall of the catacombs. It was her usual place of easier decision making anyways.

Now, when she stood in front of the circular stone monument in the middle of the room, that was when everyone knew business was serious.

Charmer had his back to him at first, somewhat seated on the stone monument himself, but the man glanced over in his direction at Desdemona's remark- and looked surprised to see him already up and moving around again.

"I wish I could share the same sentiments," Drummer Boy replied, tugging some at the collar of his jacket. The chill in the catacombs seemed to have settled heavy that morning, probably from all of the agents and Heavies moving in and out of the doors. Or maybe there had been another snow fall the night before, and the winter chill was just building up higher than they could fight against.

"You weren't able to walk so easily the last time," the Alpha reminded, a little too off the cuff, before she placed an unlit cigarette between her lips. "Carrington will be back shortly- you know how he is. Always making house calls."

Carrington never made house calls unless it was in the winter.

The good doctor always claimed that there were less accidents that way- as if he had a specialty in winter tactics.

"Believe me, Dez, I'll always be glad that I can still walk," he assured, as he walked the few spaces between them. "Although, technically, even if I couldn't, I could still be doing the same job I'm doing now."

"High-Rise would miss your visits," Desdemona remarked, another shaded tease, as she got to her feet. Fingers searched over her vest for few seconds before she pulled a lighter out of one of her pockets. Dez was one of the few people who kept a designated lighter on her- or at least, she was one of few who wouldn't lose a lighter. "I have to go meet with Boxer up top before she leaves, I'll only be gone a few minutes- but afterwards, if you're up to it, Drummer, I need your opinion on something."

That was probably... not good news.

Or maybe it was because everyone else had vacated, so he was the only one left for her to bounce ideas off of.

(At least, until someone better came back to base.)

"Yeah, I'll try to pull through for ya," Drummer Boy replied, watching as the Alpha lit her cigarette as she made her way across the room and up the stairs, eventually disappearing behind the steel door.

Usually, people and agents had to come down here if they wanted to speak with Desdemona personally, but sometimes the Alpha would relent and go to them. She used to only do it with High-Rise, but as of late she seemed more willing to step out if needed. More than likely, it was probably just out of the need for a breath of fresh air and a change of scenery, especially given the stress she had been under as of late.

Not to mention, Desdemona forbade anyone from smoking inside of the catacombs.

Which, while it was more like a suggestion than a permanent rule, the Alpha still tried to follow it herself when she could- not that any of them could fault her for her own smoking habit.

Once the Alpha was gone however, Drummer Boy turned his attention back to Charmer, who had been oddly quiet this whole time. "Weren't you supposed to be gone by now? It's a long walk out to where you're going," he reminded. "And I'm not going to be responsible for slowing you down- that'll all be on you."

"I know, I know," Charmer replied, as he held his hands up in mock surrender, "and I promise I'm not here because, you know, of my concern for you or anything."

"Good, at least we got that out of the way then."

Charmer grinned to himself at the words before he seemed to try on a more serious face. "Look, I'll be straight with you, it's like you said, no one was expecting that Courser to be out there, but now no one's sure if there's more of them out there or not. PAM hasn't said anything, but she didn't seem to catch the last one either. It could've been a fluke; it could've just landed before she had a chance to report it- who knows. But, I mean, are things around here going to be okay if another one pops up?"

With how smooth work had been going as of late, it was some times hard to imagine what they would've been doing now if Charmer hadn't joined.

Charmer was a big help in their time of need, that went without saying.

But just the same, he wasn't their backbone.

"Glory's taken them out before," Drummer Boy assured, as he pulled the empty sleeve of his coat closer to him, to close the open gap across his chest. The chill from the night before had settled well into his bones by now, and with that on top of the current chill, it was making it difficult for him to retain body heat. "They're sort of like the only Synth she has no problems with killing, for the most part anyways. If one of them threatens us again, she can take it out in your absence. Hell, she's been doing it long before you even got here."

"I know, believe me, she tells me that all the time," the man chuckled. "I just, I'm worried that, you know, if another one shows up, it might be in a settlement, or in a city far away from where anyone here will be operating. The Commonwealth is kind of depending on me to keep an eye on things, and if something happens in my absence, it's not exactly going to bode well for me."

Charmer always seemed like the kind of guy who felt like he had to take care of the world.

And, given his experiences, it seemed like something in him had been shaped to think like that.

And Drummer Boy supposed it went without saying that maybe the Railroad had put a little too much pressure on him at first attendance. Hell, Charmer's first mission had been to run with Deacon back to Switchboard to collect Carrington's project that had been left during the massacre. That wasn't exactly an easy thing to agree to, let alone pull off.

Especially given all the bodies that Charmer saw during his time there.

Slowly walking over to the man, Drummer Boy gently brushed his knuckles against Charmer's jaw, nudging the man softly with the gesture. "I'm going to say this as gently as I can, Charmer, but to be frank, no one's depending on you to do anything. You're not the backbone to anything around here."

"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Charmer teased.

"Depends on how you see it," he half-shrugged in response. "Look, the Minutemen have grown since you've been around, and they're back on their feet again. If they've functioned without you before, they can function without you again. They've been protecting the Commonwealth before your time here, and they'll continue to do so- regardless of the event. And besides, if something happens while you're gone, it's to the lack of everyone else, not to your own. Hell, I got shot by a Courser, and I'm not going to blame anyone but the Institute for that."

If the bleak thought of leaving everyone behind to pursue his own needs had dimmed Charmer's spirits any, Drummer Boy's motivational talk didn't really help to lift them by any means either.

Still, Charmer tried to assure him with a half-pressed smile.

"Alright, I'll drop by and speak with Preston and Ronnie on my way out, and let them know about the Courser activity- as incognito as I can manage it. And then I'll make a beeline for the Glowing Sea and get this nightmare over with. Hopefully I won't be gone for too long."

"Hopefully not, but you probably will," Drummer Boy offered.

Charmer gave an amused laugh before he stood up and straightened himself out. "Yeah, especially since I don't know what to expect this time around- and I don't know if what I'm looking for is still out there, or still alive even," he remarked, ending the words on a rather bleak note. Which might've been a decent preface to how the man must've been thinking about this expedition to begin with.

It didn't take long before the man turned his attention back to him though.

And Drummer Boy could feel the way Charmer's eyes lingered on his shoulder, even as hidden as it was underneath his coat. The man could probably still smell the rotting skin and still recall the blackened flesh, either from the laser burns, or from the frostbite itself.

(It was an image he still hadn't gotten out of his own head.)

(He could still smell the fresh blood pouring off of his fingertips sometimes.)

Charmer moved a hand to brush against Drummer Boy's cheek, careful for the still healing blisters, before he leaned down and brushed a kiss to his forehead. "Take care of yourself, yeah?" Charmer spoke, as he carefully slipped an arm around his right side, pulling him in for just a brief moment. "And listen to Carrington. I know I'm preaching to the choir here, and I know he may be an asshole, but he knows what he's talking about."

"And now you're starting to sound like Dez," Drummer Boy teased, before he moved his good hand to Charmer's jaw. "Worry more about yourself out there, Eli."

Eli.

Now that definitely brought a smile to the man's face.

"Don't worry, I'll keep it in mind."

Drummer Boy felt the subtle pull from Charmer's arm, before the man leaned down again and brought his lips to his own this time. The minor embrace was warm, comfortably so, and he felt the way they both let it linger on for longer than it needed to.

"I'm still worried about you, but I'm going to walk away before I let the panic change my mind," Charmer started, as he seemingly forced himself to step away. "Just please be safe, and keep the bandages clean, and don't pick at the loose skin- and try to do some hand exercises-"

"You're already gone, Charmer, I can't hear a word you're saying."