Chapter Text
Hancock is the first thing that came into focus when Nick regained consciousness. He looked anxious standing over him. Sweating? Or more like dripping? Soaking wet. That’s right, Nick remembered. They were caught out in a storm.
He was traveling with the ghoul a couple days journey from Goodneighbor, gathering some intel for their mutual vault dweller friend. Irradiated clouds were forming on the horizon but they figured they’d be fine, as fortunately for them, synths and ghouls were immune to the effects of radiation. But they didn’t count on the sudden downpour which made the dusty streets rapidly turn to thick mud and sludge. Bad quickly turned to worse as water and debris slowed their steps and seeped into the synth’s mechanical body. Hancock was soaked with his antique heavy long coat and boots he insisted on wearing. “It’s all about first impressions out here Nicky.” Hancock told him. And as impractical as it seemed, Hancock had lasted this long so Nick figured there must be something to it.
They were wading through knee-high sludge when Nick could feel his internal processors starting to shut down. His internal systems had a fail-safe in place that if he started to become waterlogged, they would gradually shut down to avoid any electrocution or strain on his electronics. A perk of being a synth, he seemed fairly indestructible as long as his body was more or less intact. Nick had lived longer than any human (and even a few ghouls) and as long as he kept on top of his maintenance he seemed to be getting along just fine. But in these conditions, it looked like he was about to become a half-buried mud statue in the middle of nowhere.
Nick could feel his limbs start to go numb as his legs gradually lost their power connection. He tried to call out to Hancock but his tongue wouldn’t move. His jaw felt like it was clamped shut. He was shutting down so quickly he could barely hear the downpour all around him. He was feeling less and less sensation as his brain was slowly going dormant. Each time he blinked it was becoming harder to reopen his eyelids. The synth knew he’d be dead weight soon. He hoped Hancock would find some shelter and then come back and find him once the storm passed. He’d be salvageable once his body dried out. After all, this wasn’t the worst storm he’d been in. Maybe he’d gotten cocky the past few years. Traveling the wasteland with the mayor of Goodneighbour made him feel invincible. Hell, Hancock sure carried himself like he was. But at the end of the day, they were just men. Well… kind of.
Hancock was wading through the mud to reach him. The dampness was seeping into his brain and there was nothing he could do but watch his friend struggle to reach him.
The last thing Nick remembered was seeing Hancock’s face panicked and shouting at him. He looked strange. The ghoul was always so calm, rarely caught off guard. It didn’t suit him. Nick thought before he blacked out.
~
Nick opened his mouth to speak but no sound came out. Hancock snapped to attention at the slight movement and his eyes lit up.
“Hey Pal, gave me quite a scare there. We’re safe. I found an abandoned house to wait out the storm.” Hancock said grabbing a rag to wipe his brow. Dragging the synth out of the rain must’ve taken so much effort. Hancock looked like he was exhausted. But he’d managed to find them a small refuge in an old half collapsed building and start a small fire for some light.
Nick nodded and attempted to shift himself up onto his elbows but Hancock put a hand to his collarbone. Nick looked down and saw his coat and shirt were gone and his chest panel was removed. Tubes and fans spinning where his guts would be if he were flesh and blood. It didn’t hurt the synth but it still felt uncomfortable to be so exposed.
“Sorry Nicky, I had to open ya up a bit. Your insides were all wet. I tried to dry you out best I could.” Hancock said guiltily looking away from the open rectangular hole in Nick's chest.
Nick opened his mouth but was still unable to make any noise. He frowned in frustration and looked away giving him a nod. He knew as his body dried his sensors would boot back up one by one. It took a little time but it was reliable. This wasn’t the first time his body had been flooded so he was familiar with his speech capabilities being one of the last sensations to come back online.
Hancock however was not aware of this function and jumped to scouring over loose wires and bolts that he had lined up next to where Nick was laying. Hancock had scavenged some mechanical junk from the building and fished some loose odds and ends out of Nick’s chest cavity in an attempt to repair him. Nick could see a pre-war metal toaster cracked open and gutted lying next to some familiar looking screws and bolts he’d long given up on retrieving from within his torso.
“Ah crap, something’s still broken. Was it one of these things?” Hancock squinted his eyes comparing two bits of wire in the dim fire light. Nick tries to reassure the ghoul that he’s fine and his voice will be back any moment but Hancock doesn’t notice.
“I shouldn’t’ve opened you up. I knew it. I always fuck this shit up.” Hancock said staring down at his shaking hands.
“I shoulda just waited for Sole to come back before we headed out. They’d know howta fix you. Gah I’m such an idiot.” Hancock was starting to get louder. Nick leaned up and watched the man begin to pace around the fire. Nick could see Hancock was cold and shivering, still in damp clothes. He didn’t even dry himself off yet. Nick realized.
“h-huh… han…” Nick started to stutter as he could feel his strength coming back. His tongue and jaw tingled as his is speech modules came back online.
“I’m so sorry Nick. I’m no good. I’m useless, I’m-“
“hiiiiiiiiiiAAAAAAAAANNnnnncock!” Nick shouted. His voice pitched quickly up and down before settling into his familiar tone.
Hancock froze and then burst into laughter.
“Oh my God Nick!!! How’d you do that? AHAHAhaha.”
“My voice is just recalibrating. Happens sometimes when I get shut off unexpectedly.” The detective huffed rubbing his throat. “Anyways, thanks for helping me dry out. Everything seems to be in working order.” Nick said stretching and testing the flexibility of his arms and hands.
“Y-yeah of course. Uhh here.” Hancock gently picked up Nick’s chest plate. The plastic is grey and scarred. Well-worn around the edges. The surface is a little spongy to mimic human flesh but it’s still very obviously fake skin. And pretty outdated fake skin at that.
“Sorry you had to see… all that.” Nick said as he gestured to his exposed torso.
“Hey man, nothing to apologize for. In fact, I wish it was under better circumstances.” Hancock winked as he helped guide the plate back into place.
Nick is taken aback and stared at the ghoul. He was just on the verge of a panic attack, how does he now have the confidence to be so charming?
“You can’t mean that.”
“Why can’t I Nick? You’re the tall, dark, handsome detective that walked straight out of a pulp novel. Is it so hard to believe I’m into you?”
“I mean, I know you’re pretty open with your relationships. But... with a synth?”
“Some folks would say the same about a ghoul.” He snarked back. “You might not be human, but you’re still REAL. You dig? You’re up here thinking and surviving with the rest of us. It doesn’t matter where you came from. What matters is that you’re here, now.”
Nick felt his face heat up at the surprisingly heartfelt sentiment. He thought a moment before getting up.
“I appreciate that Hancock. Really I do.” Nick’s eyes wandered around the shack, not knowing where to settle. He glanced back at Hancock and saw him looking back smiling like he wanted to ask something, but was unsure. Nick noticed Hancock was starting to shiver. From the cold, or something else? Nick decided it was from the cold. “I’ll uh- look around for some dry firewood.” He said as confidently as he could manage and turned to scavenge the shack. Hancock chuckled.
“Sure, good call Detective.”
They pass the rest of the night in front of a dim fire. Listening to the rumbles of thunder and rain. Nick stared at the sleeping ghoul curled up beside him. He’s half naked and Nick wondered if his lack of modesty was something that was part of Hancock or a product of his environment. Not much room for modesty in the wasteland. But he wanted to think Hancock would be just as shameless regardless.
Nick was from a different time, a different era. At least his memories were. And the disconnect he felt looking at his body still upset him occasionally. He knows his skin is plastic and metal and he doesn’t hide from it but he still remembers how it used to look. Or rather, how the ‘original’ Nick’s looked. Maybe Hancock feels some similar nostalgia for how his body looked before he turned into a ghoul? He wondered. If he does, he doesn’t show it very often.
Nick sighed. He’d had this same conversation in his head many nights before. Green lightning cracked outside pulling him out of his spiraling thoughts. He looked down at the snoring ghoul and smiled. He was very thankful that Hancock was born in this century.