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“Those things shouldn't be allowed to roam free!”
“We can't trust them!”
“What if they hurt someone?”
It was happening again. Diamond City, take two, right here in Sanctuary. Fuck, Hancock thought this place could be safe. Like Goodneighbor, accepting everyone, but different in that it had a few more rules for the clean-living folk who couldn't actually make it in Goodneighbor. This was the place he would've sent those ghouls so many years ago, and now it was happening all over again. He'd quietly ushered the two ghoul families into the care of Nick, Piper, and Deacon while Preston ran to get Scout before things escalated. But Hancock had seen this little show before, and he already knew the ending.
“What's going on?” Scout asked, stepping out of the workshop to address the gathering crowd of angry humans.
One of the settlers stepped forward.
“We don't want those ghouls here anymore.” A ragged chorus of “yeah!” backed him up, and he turned to look at Scout more expectantly. “They're not human, and we don't want them around us.”
Scout nodded slowly. “All right. I have a solution.”
Hancock sunk even deeper into the shadows across the street. He'd thought his Sole would have at least thought it over a little longer than that. They'd damn well better provide an escort for the two families all the way back to Goodneighbor instead of just kicking the ghouls out, or Hancock might have to call off this little character-building road trip short. Like hell he was going to travel around with someone who would pull that shit.
Scout stepped back into the workshop and returned a few moments later with what looked like a small can with a funnel turned sideways attached to the top of it.
“This is called a bullhorn,” Scout said. “But for tonight's purposes, I'm calling it a bullshit horn.”
“We don't care about that,” the leader of the crowd snapped. “Just make the ghouls—”
A tremendously loud sound blasted out of the can, cutting the leader off. Several other settlers in the crowd flinched back or clapped their hands over their ears. Scout waited nonchalantly.
“What the fuck was that?” the leader demanded. “I'm trying to talk to you about the—”
Scout made the blasting noise again.
“They aren't hu—”
BLAST.
“God-fucking-dammit!”
“Are you done yet?” Scout asked mildly.
“No,” the leader shouted back. “You aren't listening about the—”
Scout made the noise and kept it going for several long seconds with a bored expression. The crowd of settlers had slowly started to back away from the noise, and now they seemed scared and confused. Scout finally laid off the horn.
“Anyway!” they said loudly. “If you're all done being morons, please disperse back to your homes.”
“But what about the ghouls?” one of the settlers wailed.
Scout let out a sigh deep enough for Hancock to hear it across the street. “I'm not sure why you've all suddenly lost your critical thinking abilities, but ghouls are humans just like people with broken legs are human. The only difference is they have burns.”
“From radiation!” another settler yelled.
“Yes, thank you for that,” Scout said. “They were burned by radiation. Whoooo~”
With their free hand, Scout made a waggling motion like they were telling a scary story to a group of small children.
“But,” the leader started. “But we don't want to live with them.”
Scout pointed to the south. “Well the bridge is that way.”
The leader made a noise of outrage. “You'd kick us all out?”
“No, of course not.” Scout's voice softened. “I'd relocate you. I'm thinking, Starlight Drive In. It's the closest one of my settlements, not even a day from here. You'd still have all of the same resources, although we would need to build some more houses down there to fit you all.”
“Doesn't that place still have some radiation?” a settler asked.
Scout nodded. “Yeah, it does. We're working on it.”
The leader stepped up again. “Then move the ghouls there. They can stand the rads.”
“That would make sense,” Scout said, then shrugged. “But then again, so does accepting that ghouls are just humans with radiation burns. I could get you in the same state with a flip-lighter and some patience.”
The leader flinched back away, and Preston cleared his throat, obviously reminding Scout to tone it down a notch.
“Not that I would,” Scout reassured the crowd in a way that wasn't entirely convincing. “My point is, you're the ones who have a problem so if it comes down to it, you'll be the ones to get relocated. Do you want that?”
None of the settlers answered or made eye contact.
“OK then,” Scout said. “Go home. I'm disappointed in all of you.”
“All right, people.” Preston stepped forward before anyone had a chance to say anything else. “You heard the Sole. Break it up.”
The had-been-leader opened his mouth like he might say something else, but Scout blew the horn again, cutting him off and making the nearby settlers flinch and hurry away faster.
“Go on.” Scout made a dismissive waving gesture with their free hand. “Shoo!”
Hancock spotted the had-been's scowl as he stomped away. That would be one to watch. Didn't want another Finn situation where Scout would have to make a point. Hancock stepped into the street light and made his way over to Scout and Preston. Scout met him halfway with a concerned expression.
“Are you all right?” they asked. “Where are the Suttons and the Browns?”
“I got them into the empty storeroom with Nick, Piper, and Deacon watching over,” Hancock answered. “They're a little rattled, but none of them are hurt.”
“Good,” Scout said, relief evident on their face. “Preston, stay here and keep an eye on things tonight. Anyone else starts something, let them know they'll be relocated immediately, and this is a one strike offense. They cause more trouble at the next place, they're out for good. I'm going to go check on the Suttons and Browns.”
“Got it, General,” Preston said.
“Hancock?” Scout turned to him. “Are you all right? You didn't answer that question.”
Hancock found himself needing to swallow hard before he could answer. “Yeah, I'm good.”
Scout smiled. “Then lead the way.”
***
“And they get out this little can, right?” Hancock paused to take another hit of Jet, exhaling slowly. “Tiny fucking thing, big noise. Every time that asshole spoke, blam! Big noise.”
“Hancock—” Fahrenheit started.
“Called it the bullshit horn,” Hancock said, talking right over her. “Just blew it right at the crowd for a good fifteen seconds and then says if everyone is done being morons, they should head home.”
Fahrenheit sighed and cast yet another glance at the clock. Hancock did tend to ramble on about whatever new thing interested him when he was high, but this was ridiculous.
“And Scout said, they straight up told the crowd,” Hancock continued. “if anyone was leaving, it'd be them. The uh, the crowd of smoothies, not them-Scout. Yeah. So. The smoothskins get real pissed about that, but Scout wasn't having any of it. They—Scout—they tell that asshole they could get him looking just like a ghoul with a flip-lighter and a little patience.”
Hancock stopped his story to let out a bark of laughter. Fahrenheit saw her chance and tried to take it.
“About the next supply—”
“And boy, that shut the asshole right up,” Hancock said gleefully. “He clenched up tighter'n Danse, and that tin can could probably carry a cap between his cheeks from here back to Sanctuary.”
“Hancock, you really—”
“You know what Scout said?” Hancock asked and then didn't wait for an answer. “That they were disappointed. Said, 'I'm disappointed in all of you' and literally shooed the smoothies off. And as soon as Scout spots me, they ask if I'm OK and where the other ghouls are, then go check on—”
Fahrenheit shot the inhaler of Jet on the table before Hancock could reach for it. He stared at the shattered plastic, then glanced up at his bodyguard with a nonplussed expression.
“What the shit, Fahr?” he asked slowly.
Fahrenheit holstered her gun and exhaled through gritted teeth. “I asked you if you wanted to open up the tunnels for another supply run, and you spent thirteen minutes gushing about your crush.”
“Is that what you asked me?” Hancock leaned back against the sofa and idly popped another Mentat. “Huh.”
Fahrenheit gave an exasperated sigh.
“… I don't have a crush,” Hancock said, finally defending himself far too late.
“Oh, please.” Fahrenheit rolled her eyes. “You've practically been making heart-eyes at them since they walked through the gate.”
“Looked so clean,” Hancock muttered. “All cheerful and winged eyeliner and pretty hair. Didn't even flinch when I stabbed Finn. You know what they said when I—”
“That they weren't worried about you stabbing them,” Fahrenheit said in a droning voice. “Dominant. Perky. Hint of suppressed violence.”
Hancock realized he must have told that story a lot, but he shrugged unrepentantly. “Their attitude just does something for me.”
“Makes your dick hard,” Fahrenheit deadpanned.
Hancock tried to scowl, but it can off closer to a pout. “Other than that.”
Fahrenheit scoffed. “Sure. The supply run?”
She held up a handful of maps, inventory logs, and paperwork that Hancock eyed like an oozing pile of radroach eggs.
“C'mon, Hanny,” Fahrenheit said. “The sooner you get this mayoral shit done, the sooner you can skip off back to your genderless, ghoul-loving crush.”
Hancock grunted. “Doubt they're that kind of ghoul-loving.”
“They might have a kink.”
“Nuh huh.” Hancock shook his head. “Calling it the 'bullshit horn' was the first time I've ever heard them swear.”
“Then they definitely have kinks,” Fahrenheit said. “It's always the picket fence types.”
She shook the papers a little bit in offering and Hancock sighed, holding out his hand for them. He didn't have a crush, he just … couldn't wait to see Scout again.
Goddammit.