Chapter Text
When Hancock crossed the newly repaired bridge into Sanctuary Kathy was utterly unaware. Her hands were half-buried in a flowerbed as she chatted absentmindedly with Codsworth about trying to hook up a gas tank to her newly repaired stove. The sky was a beautiful blue with the tiniest wisps of clouds passing over every few seconds. Even the temperature was kind to the settlers, unusually warm for March even after the nuclear annihilation threw the seasons out of whack. Spring was in the air, rebirth after the season of death, and cheer seemed to follow it everywhere it went. Hancock had assumed somewhere in his pessimistic heart that his return would be marked with a terrible radstorm or a raider attack but, surprisingly, the world took no notice of him. Soon thereafter, though, someone did.
The first person to notice Hancock’s arrival was Dogmeat, who thankfully had no opposable thumbs with which to ring the intruder alarm at the end of the bridge and no idea of the tension between the ghoul and his master. Hancock smiled at the scruffy little dog who ran up to him as if it didn’t have a care in the world.
“Hey little guy,” he muttered while running a hand absentmindedly through the mutt’s fur and wondering why he ever left, “could you show me where Kathy is?” Dogmeat cocked his head to the side. Somewhere in the distance, a bad batch of chems exploded in Cait’s hands, shocking them both.
“Well Dogmeat, some things never change, huh?” The dog’s tongue just lolled out of his mouth in response.
The noise of the bang got settlers out of their houses and onto the main street, where they gathered and looked for whatever had caused the noise. In the crowd, Hancock could make out old friends left and right, looking happier and more well-fed than he’d left them.
Now that Hancock thought about it, Sanctuary had changed drastically since he had been there last. The houses, though they had always been in decent condition, were fully patched up from what he could see, with vegetable gardens sitting snugly against patios and clothes on clotheslines swinging idly in the comfortable breeze. Next to the entrance, some massive mechanical goliath jutted into the sky, rattling a strange hypnotic hum as generators fed it constantly. Strangest of all, Kathy’s house from before the war was adorned with flags and Minutemen regalia, proudly nestled in the middle of her beloved settlement. Man, she had really done well for herself while he was gone.
For a minute, Hancock had forgotten why he was there at all. He stood, dumbfounded, at the end of that little wooden bridge for what felt like hours, just taking in the scenery around him. Part of him was absolutely certain that he should just walk forward and reunite with his friends, and in turn Kathy, but another part of him was screaming that he still didn’t belong. That little part kept him frozen with Dogmeat circling his legs.
Suddenly, though, black eyes locked on to bright yellow ones. Nick Valentine met Hancock’s slack-jawed gaze with shock at first, his silicone eyebrows lifting. When Hancock smiled and waved, that shock was replaced with rage. Uh oh.
In a split second, Nick was parting the settlers like the red sea, face contorted with rage in a way that seemed unnatural even for him. Hancock knew he could run, turn on his heel and avoid Nick's wrath, maybe even go back to Goodneighbor and enjoy his mayoral luxuries again, but for the first time in his life, Hancock found he didn’t want to. There was something worth whatever the detective had in store for him waiting just moments away. So, he clenched his jaw and waited.
“You bastard,” Nick growled, “you absolutely disgusting bastard!” If the crowd hadn’t noticed Hancock before, they definitely noticed him now. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve got some nerve showing your face here.” He was toe to toe with Hancock now, faces almost close enough to touch. Nick’s stripped hand was squeezed into a tight first, tiny metal finger pointed at Hancock’s face.
“Woah brother, calm down,”
The whispers started then, reminiscent of Hancock’s first months as a ghoul. He was well acquainted with the heavy stares, the hushed voices that seemed to follow him down the street. Every rational part of him knew they weren’t meaning any harm, simply seeking answers from the rest of the herd, but Hancock was well aware he didn’t have very many rational parts. Nick’s lecture was a buzz now, a soft thrum in his ears that he couldn’t quite make out. All that mattered was the judgment wrought upon him. Nobody wanted him there, especially now that Nick was publicly executing his character in the middle of the road. It almost would've been preferable for Nick to have actually executed him right there, a shot through the head or a gaudy execution. None of it mattered anymore until she appeared.
“Nick, what’s going on?”
Hancock’s mind went silent.
There Kathy was, in all her righteous glory. Never had Hancock seen anything quite as stunning as Kathy in that moment, dressed in a tricorn all her own and a long, blue coat with her shining red hair pulled back into a sloppy bun. He was acutely aware of her gaze as it drifted from Nick to Dogmeat, and finally to him. Her big green eyes were wide in a second as she dropped her trowel, scattering dirt on her white, patent heels. After 3 months, 2 days, and 6 odd hours Hancock had finally come back to her.
For Kathy, it all happened a bit slower. She had risen in the morning as she always did, bathing in cold water from the purifiers and putting on her uniform with pride. From there she had been dragged in several different directions. Preston had wanted her to set out for Jamaica Plains with food and extra supplies but something urged her to stay close to home, which then led her to Deacon who wanted to tweak the teleporter in the hopes of making a quicker route to the Railroad home base. After hours of tinkering, Nick told her she should relax so she ended up trying to transplant an odd flower from the wastes into her garden with Codsworth.
There Kathy stayed, enjoying the sunshine until a bang made her lift her head and look around. Cait was at the chem station across the street, swearing profusely and gripping her hand. “Everything okay over there, Cait?” She chuckled, wiping her free hand on her pants and waving her mucky trowel around haphazardly.
“The damn thing blew up on me!” Cait exclaimed, throwing her now destroyed glassware onto the lawn, “I might’ve added a bit too much Abraxo…”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll get it next time,” With that, Kathy was back to work on her garden. Peace was restored momentarily until Codsworth chirped nervously.
“Mum, you might want to see this..”
“Hm? What is it Codsworth?”
Then it rang out through the air like a gunshot,
“You bastard, you absolutely disgusting bastard!”
Rising from her space on the ground, Kathy looked around for the cause of the noise. Settlers were packed together, blocking the road and the view of the situation that needed her attention. Whatever it was it was obviously interesting, worthy of capturing the attention of nearly the whole settlement. Suddenly another shout rang out, making Kathy shiver as she walked through the crowd and tried to figure out what could possibly warrant this much fuss.
“Do you have any idea what you’ve done? You’ve got some nerve showing your face around here,” Well that was… interesting. Still unable to see the fight, Kathy nearly fell over when she heard the voice of the other party.
“Woah brother, calm down,”
She froze. It couldn’t be, could it? It was apparent now that Nick was the one yelling, but the man receiving the verbal beating couldn't be who she thought it was. He had been lost to the wasteland, disappearing without a single trace and leaving her to face the world on her own. There was no way he had simply appeared at her doorstep.
Nick was frantic now, yelling so loud Kathy could almost imagine steam coming out of his ears. In all honesty, she wouldn’t be surprised if the detective had blown a fuse. She quickly found herself at the front of the group, looking for the disturbance.
“Nick, what’s going on?”
Nick was where she guessed he would be, raging at some unknown visitor at the end of the bridge about 30 feet away. She noticed Dogmeat next, almost wrapped around the stranger’s legs. He had only ever done that with…
Nick turned when he heard her voice, and in that instant she saw him. Hancock was standing at the edge of the bridge, gazing at her with an odd, soft look in his dark eyes. He was dressed the same, with his shotgun slung over one shoulder and a large duffel bag hanging over the other. For weeks she had shoved down every thought of him, every hope that he might come back, but against all odds there he was.
Kathy didn’t notice it, but in her stupor she dropped her trowel onto the concrete, dirtying her shoes. Hancock’s gaze didn’t leave her eyes for a second, though, even with the distractions all around them. It was impossible to put everything she wanted to say to him in words. Despite her inability to express herself, one word tumbled from her lips,
“John,”