Work Text:
the sound of boots had gage immediately at attention, sitting bolt upright from the bed he was laying on in the spare neon flats apartment.
"don't bother getting up," a rough voice met the raider's ears, "i'm not here to fight."
the owner of the voice came to a stop beside him, sitting down in a chair.
john hancock. the ghoul mayor of goodneighbor.
"what the hell are you here for then?"
"well aside from this being partly my house--" a few clicks, and then a flame lighting a cigarette "--i'm curious about what a raider is doing clambering after the general of the minutemen."
"what i do is my own business."
"sure. but when it concerns the commonwealth's favorite vault-dweller, well, then it becomes my business."
the ghoul's hand came into view, holding an unlit cigarette out. gage took it, studying hancock. the mayor's words painted the concern as objective, but he knew better. he could hear it in the man's voice. he had seen how he touched them. how they had smiled. knew that he had come straight from their quarters.
he lit the stick.
"they're helping our gang take over nuka-world."
there was a sound of acknowledgement.
"they talked about that a little bit. how massive the place is," a snort of amusement, "and the gatorclaws."
the raider thought back to when they cleared out the zoo. they had been scratched and bruised and drenched in the blood of the reptiles. his breath had caught as he watched them flick gore off of their knifeblade.
he had thought, for a staggering moment, that their carnage was beautiful.
the two sat in silence a moment, smoking.
"you ever play chess with them?"
"don't know how to myself."
"they've got a weird style. seemingly reactionary but then suddenly you find yourself in check."
"what are you getting at?"
"you know, they think you can change," he said while straightening his shirt. "it would be a shame if it turned out they were wrong."
there was a slight creak as hancock got up out of his chair, the slight glow illuminating his face abruptly squashed into a tray.
"let's both hope they aren't."
the rough voice was full of dark promise.
"that all?"
"mm."
gage put out his own cigarette, making to lay back down when he heard the man again by the door.
"you know, you would be a horrible poker player."
"why the hell--"
"it's easy to see how you look at them."
he felt annoyance bubbling under his skin. anger.
"what about it?"
"i bet you love that violence. that strength."
the raider stared hard at the floor beside him, unable to find a response.
"shame. keep on like this and you'll never know the rest."
and then john hancock was gone, and gage was alone again in the dark.