Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Hancock brooded the whole way back to Goodneighbor. He’d been leery at the farm, unsure how Wiseman would treat Vik when he saw she was with Hancock. But he had no intention of letting her go alone, with Mac still healing up from whatever they’d gotten up to with Deacon.

When they’d arrived at the Slog, Wiseman had acted like he knew Hancock only through his reputation as the mayor of Goodneighbor, and treated Vik with wary caution until they’d cleared the nearby super mutant farm. Afterwards, Wiseman was warm and genuine, the perfect gentleman to Vik. And as near as Hancock could tell, it wasn’t an act. But as soon as Vik disappeared to talk to Arlen about his Giddyup Buttercup collection, Wiseman had grown cold.

“She know about you, John? The real you, before you stared playing dress up?” he asked, his gravely voice low.

“She knows enough,” Hancock said, his guard up.

Wiseman scoffed. “If she knew who you really were, she’d leave you in Goodneighbor.”

Hancock said nothing, choosing instead to light a cigarette. He had all sorts of retorts, arguments, rebuttals. But the reality was, Wiseman had touched on his fear. That if Vik really knew who he was, who he had been, she’d leave.

Wiseman watched him, drinking in the silence. After a moment, he shook his head. “You love her.”

Hancock froze for a fraction of a second, enough of a reaction Wiseman caught it. He smirked.

“Oh that’s rich. Hot shot Johnny McDonough turned Robin Hood ghoul loves the General of the Minuteman. Do you really think someone like her could love you?”

Hancock threw his cigarette to the ground, but before he could do anything else, Vik emerged from the small work shop with the elderly ghoul on her arm. Arlen, despite his frail firm, was still taller than Vik.

“Oh, that’d just be wonderful,” Arlen crooned. “You sure you don’t mind?”

“I can’t get down there right away, but I’ll get you the parts as soon as I can,” she said, patting his hand on her arm. Her gray eyes radiated warmth and her eyes crinkled in amusement, the scar over her left eye managing to soften her expression rather than sharpen it.

“Did you hear that, Wiseman? This pretty lady is going to get me the parts I need!”

“Kind, fierce, and pretty,” Wiseman said, his words grinding into Hancock. “A rare combination these days. We’re glad to join the Minuteman, Vik. And you’re always welcome here…for whatever you need.”

Hancock balled his hands into fists.

The entire way back to Goodneighbor, he’d been in his head. Silent. Brooding. He’d gone straight up to his office and gotten into the stash of chems he kept in a locked box in his desk. By the time Vik and Mac joined him, he was heading into a drunken and Chem fueled bender.

If he’d had any sense outside of his own head, he’d have seen how tense Mac was, or caught the worried glances Vik shot at both of them. But he didn’t. He stayed up far later than they did, until he passed out in his room close to dawn.

The next morning, or probably more likely early afternoon, he woke up extremely hungover. He’d expected to see Vik or Mac in his office when he dragged himself to his desk, but the couches were empty. He felt miserable, and put his head on his arms that he folded haphazardly on his desk.

“Damn, you look like hell,” Fahrenheit said, far too loudly for his hangover.

He held up his middle finger. “The others still asleep?”

“No,” Fahrenheit said. Her tone startled him, and he looked up. “They left just before dawn, but Vik said they should be back by tomorrow at the latest.”

Hancock blinked. “They just left?”

“No, Vik tried to wake you up but you told her to fuck off. So she left two messages with me instead. I just gave you one.”

“Did she say where they’re going?”

“Not to me,” Fahrenheit said, folding her arms across her chest. “Frankly, I wouldn’t blame her if she didn’t come back. You were a raging asshole last night and this morning. I heard you tell her to fuck off down the hall.”

Hancock put his head back on his arms. He groaned. What had he done?

“She left you a note in your Chem stash in your desk. Now that I’ve given you both messages, are you doing mayoral shit today or is that my job?”

Hancock hardly heard her question as he yanked open his desk drawer. There was no note, just the lockbox. Vik couldn’t open it, could she? He put the code in with shaking hands, and sure enough there was an envelope on the Chem stash, his name on the outside: John. She never called him Hancock anymore, unless she was introducing him to someone else. It was something he cherished. He barely managed to open the envelope without tearing the paper.

“John,

Mac and I needed to leave this morning, something came up that needed to be taken care of ASAP. I hate leaving you like this, but there wasn’t a choice. I’m not sure what’s wrong, but hopefully you and I can talk about it when Mac and I are back. See you in a day or two.

Love, Vik

PS- I left a couple of hangover remedies in your Chem stash, and another on your nightstand that I’m sure you missed when you got up.”

Hancock exhaled sharply, relief flooding him, followed by a huge wave of guilt. He reached into the stash and pulled out a bottle of Vik’s hangover remedy before putting the note back into the box and locking it.

“When you don’t look like you’ve been mauled by a deathclaw?” Fahrenheit said from the doorway, her expression guarded but less combative. “Stop by Daisy’s. She and Mac were talking before you two got back. She might know where they went.”

Chapter Text

Mac paced by Daisy’s, his anxiety through the roof. What if Vik said no?

“She’s not going to tell you no,” Daisy said as if reading his mind, wiping her stall counter with methodical precision.

“But she’s got things that are more important—” he started, but she stopped wiping and looked up at him, the movement cutting off his protest.

“You and I both know she’ll drop everything for you. Or Hancock. Or Nicky. Or even that shifty bastard Deacon. You of all people know she’ll move mountains for her friends.”

Mac sighed. Yeah, he did know that. And he saw what she did for Austin, a kid she’d just met. Before he could think of a response, Vik and Hancock came through the door to Goodneighbor. Vik smiled and waved to him, but Hancock scowled at nothing in particular and headed straight for the State House.

“What’s his problem?” Daisy asked when Vik reached them.

Vik sighed. “I have no idea. He hasn’t said anything since we left the Slog.”

Now it was Daisy’s turn to scowl. “Wiseman still there?”

Vik nodded. “Seemed nice enough but he rubbed me wrong, like that weirdo who used to spend all day in the law library but refused to let us see what he was doing.”

“Trust that feeling,” Daisy said. “Wiseman likes to stir things up just to watch the fallout.”

“Great,” Vik sighed. She looked at Mac, then frowned. “What’s wrong?”

“I uhm. I need to talk to you. It’s important.”

*

After a quick discussion, they’d decided to talk in the VIP lounge at the Third Rail.

Vik got them drinks while Mac got a table. Mac fidgeted with the glass, rolling it nervously between his palms.

“I told you I’m from the Capitol Wasteland, from a place called Little Lamplight,” he started. Vik nodded. Mac sighed. “When I left the Capital Wasteland, I didn’t just leave Little Lamplight behind… I left my family behind.  Had a beautiful wife named Lucy… and a son we named Duncan...” he fought back tears.

Vik reached across the table and moved his glass, before taking both of his hands in hers. She gave them a gentle squeeze.

“You must have had a good reason to leave them behind,” she said softly.

Mac choked out a small, bitter laugh. “That’s what I keep telling myself.” He cleared his throat. “My son… he’s sick. I don’t know what’s wrong with him. One day, he’s playing out in the fields behind our farm… the next he took a fever and these blue boils popped up all over his body.” Vik’s hands squeezed tighter. “Last I saw he was almost too weak to walk. I didn’t dare ask him to come with me. Honestly, I don’t know how much longer he’s going to last.”

“There must be something we can do,” Vik said, resigned.

Mac felt a warm feeling in his chest. She’d said we. Why did he ever doubt her? He shook his head, his lips attempting a faint smile. “I was hoping you’d say that. A few months before we met, I bumped into a guy named Sinclair who claimed his buddy caught some kind of a disease. I thought he was wasting my time until he said his partner broke out in blue boils. They dug up information about a cure at a place called Med-Tek Research. They even managed to grab the building’s lockdown security codes…” Mac paused. “Unfortunately, Sinclair’s buddy died before they were able to break into the facility.”             

Vik frowned. “Can you trust this “Sinclair” guy? ”

 Mac shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know him from Adam. But he brought up the blue boils and the sickness his partner suffered from in his own, I never told him about Duncan. There’s no way that’s a coincidence… or a trap. Wouldn’t make any sense. If Sinclair says Med-Tek Research is the place, that’s where we need to go… otherwise I got nothing else.” The warm feeling in Mac’s chest chilled at the thought, and his eyes dropped to their joined hands.

Vik’s hands squeezed his again. “Hey, look at me.”

Mac peeked up at her through tear stained lashes.

“Don’t give up hope. If there’s a cure, we’ll find it.”

Mac nodded. Now came the next hard part. “I was talking to Daisy…she’s got a caravan that runs back and forth from here and the Capitol. It’s due end of the week, it’s the last run before winter hits.”

“So now is our window,” Vik said, nodding. “You up for heading out tomorrow morning?”

Mac blinked. “You’re serious? You’d drop everything and go tomorrow?”

“Well yeah, we’ve got a deadline. If you’re good to go, we’ll go tomorrow. Wiseman let me use his bench to repair my armor so I just need to top off ammo—” Vik grimaced. “I wish I knew what the hell happened with John while we were there.”

“Wiseman knows how to get in Hancock’s head, he’s a pr-prince.”

Vik stood, tossing her drink back in one practiced motion. “Well, let’s swing by Daisy’s and get last minute supplies, then go see what mess John is. Think we’d need him too?”

Mac snorted as he stood. “Granted, this won’t be easy or I’d have done it before now. But if his head is all messed up it’d be better if he didn’t come. I feel bad enough roping you into this…”

Vik put her arm around his waist and steered him toward the stairs. “This is what friends do. Stick around with me long enough, and I’ll show you that.”

*

Hancock was half gone by the time they met him in his office. His words slurred and he was pushing alcohol and chems on both of them. After over an hour of watching him self destruct, Vik coaxed him into his room and left him there so she and Mac could get a decent night’s sleep.

He wasn’t in better shape that morning, so Vik left him a note and messages with Fahrenheit.

It was still dark as they headed to Med-Tek. Thankfully it was almost full light by the time they got there and encountered the first feral swarm.

Chapter Text

Daisy was bustling around her shop when Hancock flopped bonelessly in a chair just inside the counter. He’d taken two of the remedies but still felt like hell. Admittedly the remedies could only do so much and he’d been too far gone to expect a full recovery.

Daisy eyed him warily. “Look what the cat dragged in,” she said. “What do I owe the pungent displeasure of your hungover ass?”

“I need to know where Vik and Mac went.”

“Why? You’re in no shape to go after them. And they should be back in a day or so, anyway.”

“Yeah...I wasn’t going to follow. That’s—” he stopped short. “I’m not like that. I trust them. I just was hoping you’d know why they took off so fast. Is everything ok?”

Daisy studied him, like an aunt who caught him out past curfew and was debating telling his parents. “They didn’t tell you?”

Hancock rubbed the back of his neck. “They might have but I uhm…don’t remember if they did.”

“Why do you let him get to you like that? Wiseman is an arrogant ass. I thought you’d gotten past that.”

Hancock laughed, but stopped to a moan mid laugh. Everything hurt. “I thought I had too but—” he almost told Daisy what had rattled him so bad.

Daisy folded her arms across her chest and leaned a hip against her counter. “He said something about Vik, didn’t he.”

Hancock blanched.

Daisy moved like she was pinching the bridge of her nonexistent nose and sighed. “What, exactly, did he say?”

Hancock looked at his hands. “Uhm.” Daisy waited him out. “He asked if I was…uhm…in love with Vik…if I thought she’d love me if she knew who I was before…” he couldn’t finish the sentence.

Daisy sighed again, a slow and heavy sound in sharp contrast to the quick expression of annoyance from before. “She leave you one of her remedies before they left?”

Hancock looked up at her. “She left me three.”

“After the spectacle you made of yourself, and I could hear you down here by the way, she still left you with something to help you feel better. She didn’t have to do that, frankly I think she should have let you suffer in your own idiot consequences. She cares about you a lot, even when you’re too stupid to see it.”

Hancock put his face in his hands, his elbows resting on his knees. He said through his hands, “I fucked up royally, didn’t I.”

“Yeah, you did. I know they could have used the backup but you had to be an idiot.”

Hancock’s stomach dropped. “Where’d they go?”

“Med-Tek.”

Hancock was on his feet instantly, but swayed from the sudden change. “That place is full of ferals. It’s a death trap!”

“Yeah,” Daisy growled. “They knew that. That’s why they probably wanted your help. But we both know they can take care of themselves, it’ll just be a rougher ride without an extra set of eyes watching their backs and extra firepower.”

“Fuuuck!” Hancock sank into the chair again, his legs unsteady.

“Can I be blunt with you, Hancock? Some tough love?”

Hancock nodded, trying to stop his mind from thinking of all of the ways two of the most important people in his life could die because he’d been selfish.

“You need to sit Vik down when they get back and tell her everything, including how you feel. Because until you quit dithering about it, idiots like Wiseman can use it to manipulate you. And you’re better than that.”

“What if they don’t come back?”

“They’ll be back. I know it. Now go clean yourself up and air that coat out while you’re at it. You’re Mayor Fucking Hancock of Goodneighbor, start acting like it.”

Chapter Text

Vik had hated parking structures before the war. Aggressive people being stupid, or impatient, cutting people off for who knows why. Now she hated them even more thanks to the swarms of aggressive ferals. Maybe parking structures just inspired feral tendencies regardless of the century.

She and Mac had taken care of the swarm, but she still felt the spot on her back itch like they were being watched. She kept on high alert as they approached the locked doors.

Mac stood in front of the terminal, awkwardly fumbling with the keys. “Here we are…Med-Tek Research. I hope Sinclair’s information pays off…” he muttered, half a prayer. The terminal beeped, and the doors clicked open. He let out his breath. So far so good.

The lobby was a huge mess, and it was eerily quiet.

“We need to find the executive terminal,” Mac said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sinclair said that’s the only way we can override the facility’s lockdown.”

Vik nodded, and they started their sweep.

By the time they found it, Vik had gleaned some of what had happened. This research facility was just another example of monstrous things happening in the guise of progress.

Vik watched as Mac nervously pecked at the keyboard, muttering, “Sinclair’s passcode better work, or we’re screwed…”

The terminal beeped.

Mac visibly relaxed. “Thank god that worked.” He pressed a few more buttons, and an alarm sounded somewhere. “Let’s find our way down to the Sub-Level. That’s where Med-Tek should be storing the cure.”

They found the entrance, lights flashing and warnings blaring. They also found more ghouls. Considering how many people had been trapped in there by the lock down, it shouldn’t have been surprising that a few changed. But the sheer number of them was incredible. Vik was grateful they’d found a Protectron so early on the help thin them out.

They holed up in a storage closet, deep in the sublevels, to reload and take another dose of RadX. The rads were increasing, with hot spots making her Pipboy’s Geiger counter squeal. Vik was glad they’d stocked up, but she was definitely feeling the rads more than she thought she should with the RadX.

She didn’t say anything to Mac about it, she could tell the feral ghouls were starting to get to him and she didn’t want to add to it. Nothing phased him much, but swarms of feral ghouls touched on something in his past he hadn’t shared. She knew, when they were somewhere safe, he’d have nightmares when he slept after this.

“We should be close to the last storage space,” he said.

Vik nodded. “Ready when you are.”

They cleared the few roaming ferals around the lab space—or autopsy space?—Vik wasn’t sure. Mac surged toward the open door, towards the syringe he could see on the table.

The glowing one rose swiftly from behind the table, snarling. The glow pulsed, then flared, sending a huge wave of radiation that funneled at the doorway

Chapter Text

Vik grabbed Mac’s harness and yanked him from the doorway as soon as she saw the glowing one rise up. The motion swung him behind the wall but left her completely exposed. The rad wave hit her full force, and she dropped to her knees. She could taste the coppery tang of blood in her mouth, and her stomach roiled. She fought back nausea and the sense of utter wrongness her body felt and fired at the glowing one on full automatic.

Mac’s rifle joined her, and they managed to take it down before it cleared the room.

Mac grabbed her arm and dragged her into the room, as far as they could get from the glowing one, and into cover in case there were any other ferals around. He was fighting panic, trusting habit and familiarity as he pulled out a stimpack and a RadAway.

“Vik?” he asked, his voice a little shaky.

She looked up at him, her eyes a little pink. “Well this feels like shit…”

He chuffed a laugh. “This will help, hold on.”

His hands worked mechanically, like he was working on his rifle. He’d stripped her jacket and rolled up her left sleeve, getting the RadAway in her arm. He hoped the numbness she had in her left side would help keep the pain down that he knew would come with the meds. Usually he’d pair it with MedX but that wasn’t an option, he needed her awake. He pulled up her other sleeve.

“Stimpack. No argument.”

She nodded weakly, grimacing as he pressed the plunger. The muscles in her arm spasmed, the twitching spreading up her arm and stopping at her shoulder; he’d never seen that happen before. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “Usually can keep it from doing that.”

Mac squeezed her right hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

Vik faded in and out while the meds battled the radiation poisoning. She startled Mac when when she asked in the uneasy silence, “…find it?”

“I’ll look soon,” he said.

“Go look…not going anywhere…”

Mac tore himself from where she sat motionless on the floor and scanned the room. On a shelf he saw more bottles of RadX, and a few packs of RadAway. He grabbed his bag and strode to the shelf, loading anything medical he could find. As he turned back to Vik, he saw the syringe on the table again. The label was faded, but it had to be the cure. He’d never seen anything else like it. He grabbed it and rolled it up in one if his shirts, sticking it in an inner pocket with a drawstring cinch. Just to be safe.

“I’ve got it,” he said, kneeling by Vik again. “And some meds for you too.”

She nodded, opening her eyes. They were noticeably less pink, and she had the telltale dark circles that usually showed up as rad sickness surrendered to the RadAway. “Feeling less shitty, I’ll be able to walk soon. I don’t want to stay down here any longer than we need to.”

Mac nodded, but wasn’t convinced. He understood her need to be topside though, she struggled being underground. This place had been hell for both of them, in the nightmares it held.

A nerve-wracking hour later, the RadAway was empty, and Vik looked better. Still awful, but she was determined to get up and out. Mac helped her to her feet, and half carried her to an elevator down the hall. Normally he wouldn’t risk it, but if it would get them outside faster, it would be worth it.

Sure enough, Vik was able to hack it despite feeling like death warmed over and it took them to the first floor. Mac thought it was too bad they couldn’t have found it or used it sooner.

As they exited the building, a feral ghoul took advantage of their momentarily blindness from the afternoon sun, and lunged. Mac’s hands were full, trying to half carry Vik and their bags. Vik’s draw of her .44 was slow, far too slow.

Before it reached them, the ghoul dropped, the echo of a rifle following its ravaged body to the ground. Mac knew the sound of that rifle anywhere, and he sagged a little in relief as Deacon emerged from his hiding spot.

He grabbed Vik’s bag from Mac’s shoulder, slinging it easily over his. He knew better than to try to take Mac’s.

“Let’s get to cover,” he said, his sunshaded gaze shifting to Vik. “It’ll be faster if you let one of us carry you.”

Vik was too exhausted to argue, and Mac picked her up. They followed Deacon to a small, two-story house with boarded up windows and doors a short distance from Med-Tek. He did something to the door and it swung silently open. He closed it behind them, engaging the lock.

*

Mac drank half of the beer Deacon had conjured from somewhere in the house in one long pull. It had taken both of them to convince Vik that she needed another dose of RadAway and a does of MedX, and that the pain in her joints was going to be a lot worse with the next round. When Deacon pointed out that a full night of sleep was not a bad idea, and Mac reminded her that the caravan wasn’t due to arrive for four days, she finally relented. Mac had filled him in on the horrors they’d found, although he kept what had brought them there to himself.

Deacon came to the couch after checking her meds and swapping the empty RadAway pack for a third one. He’d added a blood pack to her other arm as well.

He sat down heavily across from Mac.

“How’s she doing?” Mac asked.

“Rads are coming down finally. Her pipboy says they are, anyway.”

“Good,” Mac sighed.

“Place like that, I’m surprised her mayor didn’t come with too.”

Mac snorted, her mayor was both amusing and aggravating in its accuracy. “He’s going to be kicking himself when we get to Goodneighbor and he sees how sick she is. I hope the hangover remedy she left for him didn’t work.”

“He hasn’t been on one of his famous Chem benders in months, not since he first met Vik,” Deacon said, sipping his own beer. “I wonder what kicked that one off.”

Mac shrugged. “No idea, I just know he was a huge jerk before we left this morning.” Had it only been that morning? It felt like days ago.

Deacon nodded slowly, frowning. “You look like you could use some sleep too. You need rad meds?”

Mac finished the beer. “Probably, the rads were bad before the glowing one, let alone after.”

Deacon nodded again. “There’s only one bed, but it’s big enough for both of you. She shouldn’t have nightmares thanks to the MedX, but you never know.”

Mac wondered if Deacon knew about his own, was using Vik’s as a cover for Mac’s. Weird bastard knew everything else he shouldn’t have, so it wouldn’t surprise him. Mac stood and got himself ready for sleep.

He didn’t feel Deacon unhook the empty RadAway pack on his arm a while later, or notice when Deacon knelt on the bed to remove Vik’s packs. He didn’t feel the blanket Deacon put over both of them afterwards. He didn’t notice spooning Vik in his sleep and burying his face in her shoulder while he sobbed, or register her thumb gently soothing his hand. They’d done this too many times, friends soothing friends, for it to be anything but normal despite exhaustion and meds.

Deacon kept watch for any hostiles outside through the hidden viewing slits around the house, feigning ignorance to it all, content they were safe.

Chapter Text

Deacon left them outside of Goodneighbor, having carried Vik’s bag most of the way there. She was still unwell, but her reaction time with her weapon was almost back to normal as a roaming solo raider learned the hard way.

“I’d say stay out of trouble…” he said, trying to sound critical.

“But then we’d never see you,” Vik stood on her toes and kissed his cheek. “So fat chance of that.”

Deacon awkwardly adjusted the pompador wig he’d donned as they left the safe house. Speechless, he waved and disappeared into the rubble.

Mac chuckled. “That never gets old.”

Vik smiled wanly. “Indeed it doesn’t. Let’s go see Daisy.”

It was late morning, and it was as busy as it got in Goodneighbor. The line had cleared by the time they reached Daisy’s store, though. Vik leaned casually against the wall next to the store, leaving Mac to do the talking. She’d been backup on this, terrible backup but just the backup. She was miserable between the rads and all of the meds too. All she wanted to do was get cleaned up and sleep.

Mac trembled as he opened his bag. “We got it, Daisy. We found the cure to Duncan’s disease.”

Daisy beamed. “I knew you’d get it, just needed the right person to go with you.”

Mac handed it to her. “It’ll get there safe, right? And quick?”

“It will arrive at your homestead in no time, Mac. Caravan is due any day now and they’ll head out a day or two after. He’ll have it soon.”

Mac sagged a little in relief. “Thanks, you’re a doll.”

“You probably say that to all of the ghouls,” she said, winking at Vik. “You look like you need a bath, a drink, and sleep.”

Vik chuffed a laugh. “Yeah, at least two of those. Not sure the drink will stay down yet.”

Daisy nodded. “If he hasn’t completely ruined what he has with you, Hancock is in his office. Fahrenheit is keeping him busy or I’m sure he’d have been down here already.”

Vik sighed and closed her eyes. “I hope he’s not gearing for a fight, I don’t have it in me.”

“If he is, I’ll fight him. I owe you more than I can ever pay back.”

“Friendship isn’t a tally sheet,” Vik said, forcing herself to stand without the wall.

*

The knock on his office door annoyed Hancock instantly. He hated all of the damn paperwork, and he was irritated Fahrenheit had left it all on his desk and had been practically guarding him to make sure he did it.

“Better be good,” he growled.

“Depends,” Vik said, folding her arms and leaning against the door frame, “Are you going to be an asshole again?”

Hancock was out of his chair and closed the distance in four huge strides. He wrapped his arms around Vik’s waist and held her tight, nuzzling his face into her shoulder where it met her neck. Vik wrapped her arms around Hancock’s waist, resting her head on his chest.

“I’m so sorry, angel. What I did was inexcusable,” he said.

“Not inexcusable,” she said, her voice slightly muffled by his shirt. “But it better not happen again.”

“It won’t,” he said, his left hand moving to cradle her head.

They stood embraced for eternities in seconds, time standing still.

“I hate to say it but I need to sit John, I feel like hell.”

Hancock reluctantly separated from Vik and looked down at her, taking her in clearly. “What happened?” he frowned, guiding her to the couch.

“Lotta rads, the wrong end of a glowing one, and too many meds. I’ll be alright after more sleep.”

“You want to take a nap in my room?”

Vik paused.

Hancock added quickly, “It’s cleaned up and aired out, and it’s here. But if you want your room I understand.”

“We need to talk, about what happened…”

“After you’re rested up. I promise. But you need to sleep.”

Vik sank into the couch a little, closed her eyes, and sighed. “Yeah. I do.”

*

Hancock ended up settling Vik in his room, and she was asleep before he’d covered her with a blanket.

Fahrenheit had cleared his desk, confirming his suspicions it’d been a distraction tactic. Mac was sitting in his usual chair, sipping a purified water.

“You look rough too,” Hancock said.

“Rads. And ferals.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Yes,” Mac said, his voice hard.

Hancock held up his hands, palms out. “I’m sorry.”

“You should be. What the h-heck, Hancock? We could have used you. We almost didn’t make it out.”

“Why go in the first place?” Hancock demanded, getting defensive.

Mac stood and got in Hancock’s face. “Because it was the difference between life and death for my son, and the last chance to get it to him before winter,” Mac said, struggling to keep his voice level and low. If Vik hadn’t been sleeping in the next room he would have been yelling.

Hancock stepped back like he’d slapped. “I had no idea…”

Mac stood where he was, shaking with exhaustion and anger. “It shouldn’t matter why. The fact is, we needed you and you weren’t there. And despite everything you spewed the night before we left, and that morning, she still loves you enough to leave you something so you wouldn’t suffer when you sobered up. You got a pass this time but don’t expect it again. From either of us. We almost lost her, Hancock. It was too damn close.”

Hancock sat heavily on the couch. Mac was clearly angry, or he wouldn’t have sworn. Hancock put his head in his hand. “You’re right.”

“D-darn right I am,” Mac said, some of the fire leaving him. He sat next to Hancock on the couch. “Vik sees the good in you. She’s got a knack for it. Trust her instincts, even if you don’t trust yourself.”

Hancock sighed and leaned back, resting his head on the couch so he was staring at the ceiling. “Aren’t we a pair.”

Mac snorted. “Pair of lost boys with baggage, that what we are.”

Chapter Text

Vik woke slowly, fighting the bone weary fatigue of too many rads and too many meds. At least she was warm, dry, and somewhere relatively comfortable. It took her time to realize where she was, then it clicked. She was in Goodneighbor, in Hancock’s room. She wondered what time it was, how long she’d been asleep. Her internal clock was completely messed up.

She listened, hoping for cues that could tell what time it was. All she heard was quiet, like the way the State House sounded when everyone was asleep. Night, then. Likely middle of the night.

Vik slowly sat up, grimacing at how stiff everything felt. Her old injuries were the worst, almost like instant arthritis in the old breaks in her hip, pelvis, and leg. Her stomach was still unsettled too. She hoped the armor Sturges was retrofitting could handle the rads the Glowing Sea would throw at her, or she'd be in real trouble.

There was a soft glow of light under the door leading into Hancock’s office, and she limped to it. She quietly opened the door.

Hancock was sitting on the couch with his back to her, a glass of scotch untouched in his hand. She leaned against the door frame and folded her arms across her chest. She was chilled now, outside of her warm cocoon of blankets. He was sitting so still, she wasn’t sure if he was awake or asleep. She sighed softly, unsure what to do.

Hancock spun around. “You’re awake,” he said.

She nodded.

“How’re you feeling?”

“Like cold shit on a shingle,” Vik said. “Emphasis growing on the cold part.”

“Come sit, I’ll grab a blanket,” he said, setting his glass down and standing. As he walked around the couch, he asked softly, “You want anything?”

“Water. I’m not sure I can handle much else yet.”

Hancock nodded and disappeared back into his room while Vik settled sideways on the couch in the warm spot Hancock had left. She pulled her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, resting her forehead on her knees as she leaned her shoulder into the backrest. A warm blanket draped gently on her shoulders, and she relaxed a little as the warm seeped in.

“You sure you don’t want to go back to bed?” Hancock asked, resting his hand on her shoulder.

“No, not yet,” Vik said looking up. She covered his hand with hers. “Besides, we need to talk.”

Hancock gently squeezed her shoulder. “I’ll grab you some water first.”

Hancock felt like he was moving in sand as he got Vik water from under the bar. Was this it? Had he screwed up too badly? Mac seemed like he’d forgive him, hopefully, but he wasn’t sure with Vik yet. Maybe this was a “Dear John” in person.

He tried to stuff his fear down as he went back to the couch.

“Here angel,” he said.

Vik smiled at him, still a ghost of what it usually was but she was still deathly pale and clearly in pain, so he tried not to read too much into it. “Thanks, handsome.”

Hancock’s heart skipped a beat. Maybe he had a chance. He sat next to her on the couch, sitting sideways with one leg akimbo on the cushion so he could face her, resting one arm along the back of the couch. She sipped the water, clearly making sure it wouldn’t upset whatever balance she’d managed.

Vik’s eyes softened as she looked at him. “Are you alright?”

Hancock barked a bitter laugh. “You’re sitting here, sick as hell, and you’re asking me if I’m alright?”

“We know how I am,” she smirked. “But where you’re at is a mystery to me.”

Hancock was about to say something sarcastic, but stopped himself. She’d given him another chance, just like he’d been hoping. He couldn’t throw it away. “I’m…not sure.”

Vik nodded, but said nothing. She waited, giving him space.

“Wiseman lived in Diamond City when the ghouls were kicked out. We were friends, at least I thought we were,” Hancock snorted. “Turns out neither of us were good friends.” He sighed. “Anyway. He never forgave me for letting my brother do what he did. He thought I became a ghoul as a stunt.”

Vik reached out and covered his hand on the back of the couch with hers.

“What happened at the Slog?”

“Wiseman…” Hancock started and stopped. Vik shifted her hand and intertwined her fingers with his, gently running her thumb up and down his, giving silent encouragement. “Wiseman asked if you knew my past, if you’d still want me around.”

Vik squeezed his hand. “We all have a past, John. I know who you are, even if I didn’t know who you were. And I know, so…”

Hancock nodded, and gently squeezed her hand back. “What he said just…got to me. I run, when things tough. Hell, running from myself is what made me into… into a damn ghoul.”

“You’re not running now, are you?”

Hancock shook his head. “No…lately, lately things have just felt… right. And running, it’s the furthest thing from my mind. I mean, I left Goodneighbor with you thinking I was gonna just sharpen up the ‘ol killer instinct, have a little fun.” Hancock managed a smile. “But whether it’s fate or destiny or just god damn coincidence, I ended up with someone like you.”

Vik smiled. “I’m you’re kind of trouble, is that it?”

Hancock chuckled, a warm feeling bubbling in his chest. “You really are.” He shook his head. “You know, I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I’d done something I could hang my hat on. But being out there with you, it’s made me realize just how small time I’d been thinking. And that maybe all my running, from my life, myself… maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.”

“You may have run, but you always ran for a reason, John.”

Hancock shook his head. How did he get this lucky. He tugged gently on her hand, and Vik smiled. She set her water on the coffee table and shifted stiffly until she was in Hancock’s lap, her back against the backrest and feet curled up under her. He unwrapped her blanket and deftly draped it around both of them, wrapping his arms around her as he did. She settled into him, resting her head under his chin.

“I’ll never run from you again,” he whispered into her hair. “I’m so sorry, angel. I don’t know what I’d do without a friend like you.”

Vik snorted. “Friend, huh? Have you ever thought about us as maybe more than just friends?”

“Heh. It that obvious?”

Vik poked his ribs. “I’m pretty oblivious to these kinds of things, John, but not that oblivious.”

“But come on. You don’t want to wake up to this mug every morning. Never wish that on anyone I cared for.”

Vik sat up so she could see his face. She caressed his cheek, saying “Who I fall for is my decision.” She kissed him. “And I’ve fallen for you, just the way you are.”

She snuggled back into his arms, and he hugged her tightly. Tears fell into her hair. “Heh. Moments like this, I know all that karma stuff is bull. Because no one like me should be this lucky.”

Chapter Text

Arlen practically vibrated in excitement as Vik set the last of the part bins in his shop. “Here good?” she asked.

“Oh, that’s perfect. Thank you, thank you!”

“You’re welcome, Arlen. We grabbed what we could, but I’ll keep an eye out for any others if you need more.”

“Oh this will be fine. Thank you.” Arlen reached into a drawer and handed Vik a small packet. “Here, the part you asked about. I found it after your last visit. Hope it helps.”

“Thanks, Arlen. It’s the last one I need.”

Mac and Hancock waited for Vik outside of Arlen’s shop. Wiseman was glowering at Hancock’s back, something Mac caught. He was sure Hancock knew, and was deliberately ignoring him.

As Vik stepped out of the cramped shop, she waved to Wiseman cheerily. His expression changed quickly but not before she’d seen it. She acted like she hadn’t noticed.

“Ready?” she asked Mac and Hancock.

“Topped off on some supplies, and I’ve got the tarberries Codsworth and Mama Murphy asked for,” Mac said. “You set?”

“Yup,” she said. She grabbed Hancock’s lapel  and pulled him close for a kiss, making sure Wiseman had a clear view. “You ready?”

Hancock chuckled. “Come on, love. Let’s get this freakshow on the road.”