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Supply hunting is something anyone who wanders the Wasteland is all too familiar with. Everyone has developed their own set of tricks and habits, hoping they find Old World treasure that will bring in a good amount of caps. Preston has never found treasure, but he’s found resources and tools that have kept him and others alive.
Today he’s not scavenging for survival, though. He’s partnered up with Hancock, searching through a ruined Old World school. There’s always something eerie when he scavenges in these sort of buildings. He doesn’t know what life before the bombs dropped was like, but it makes him a bit more curious. He doesn’t ask Nate too many questions, cautious if it’s a sore spot.
Preston tries not to think too much right now; the skeletons of children isn’t something he wants to think about much. Instead he thinks about the supplies they are looking for, keeping a single focus point so his mind doesn’t drift. Hancock on the other hand keeps asking Nate plenty of questions, mostly silly ones. He makes a few jokes, even trying to sit in a child sized desk only to fall over. The stark difference between their approaches of scavenging rubs Preston the wrong way, but he doesn’t say anything; everyone has their own way of understanding the Wasteland. Hancock’s is just much different than his. Preston can’t seem to find humor in a place like this.
Once they gathered enough chemicals and metal scrap for Sturges’ next project for Sanctuary, they leave with a few hours to spare before the sun goes down. That’s a relief, as fighting anything in the Wasteland during the night becomes much more difficult. Even if both Nate and Hancock can hold their own and more, there’s a risk something could go wrong.
For most of the trip back towards Sanctuary, Hancock is walking alongside Nate, making small talk and teasing him. Preston just watches the two banter, once in a while paying attention to the words. It’s surprising how well the two of them get along. He’s not sure if it’s because he doesn’t know Nate on a social level well enough or he’s totally misjudged Hancock. He goes with the first assumption, as he’s seen and heard plenty about Hancock and his Goodneighbor.
There’s only a few miles remaining when Hancock hangs back, letting Dogmeat walk alongside Nate. Hancock tips his hat and smiles at him.
“Good scavenging run, huh? It’s been a while since I did something like that. Reminds me of when I was a kid and my parents didn’t want to buy me something so I’d look for something to pawn off.” It’s a friendly conversation, but Preston keeps a defensive but polite distance.
“We’ll see if Sturges can use what we brought back. If he can’t use what we got, I’m sure someone else could use the materials and supplies.” Preston reels in the conversation to focus on their previous task instead of directing it to a more personal route.
“We got top quality stuff, don’t worry. Even picked up a few personal souvenirs.” Preston isn’t surprised to hear that as it only makes sense.
“Then it was worth the trip.” Preston’s not sure if he’s trying to force this conversation into an early death. It’s not intentional, it’s just he isn’t sure what to say around Hancock or how he should behave. He doesn’t think he’s a bad person, but he can’t approve of many of his choices. Yet that doesn’t explain why he feels the need to be so cautious around him.
He knows Hancock has sacrificed and helped those who are vulnerable. He’s helped on some of Minutemen related tasks alongside Nate. Maybe he shouldn’t be so cautious around him. He wants to make the Wasteland a better place for those who need it the most.
“Are you going to ask me what I picked up?” Hancock starts to tease him, looking like he’s setting up something so he can keep this conversation going. “I’ll give you three guesses.”
“I don’t know,” Preston doesn’t feel so inclined to play along. “Something to pawn off?” He recalls what Hancock said earlier.
“No way. I don’t need to pawn off anything right now.” He’s pretty sure Hancock knows he’s not very into this game, but it seems he’s keeping it up anyway. “I’ll give you a clue,” Hancock’s right arm brushes against his body for a brief moment. “I thought of you when I saw it, so I picked it up.”
Hancock thought of him? It could be another attempt to keep him talking. Preston half expects it. “I really don’t know.”
“Come on, try. It’s the least you can do.” Preston would have guessed by now if he even knew where to start.
“Something for Sanctuary?”
“More like for you.” Maybe he should have seen that coming, but he finds it strange Hancock would pick up a gift for him. They’re not really friends outside of polite acquaintances.
Preston isn’t sure how to respond, and he makes that obvious as he just stares at Hancock, unsure of what to say and what facial expression he should be making outside of confused and surprised.
“Shit. Deathclaw got your tongue?” He’s now realizing how foolish and awkward he’s been throughout this entire exchange, his cheeks feeling warmer out of embarrassment. He knows he set himself up for this, though. If he weren’t so suspicious or distant, this could have been a casual conversation.
“I’m just not used to getting personal gifts.” Preston confesses, finally revealing something personal about himself to Hancock. “I’m used to things being for the Minutemen.” His life recently has been hyper focused on the Minutemen and their agenda. That or helping people to uphold what he believes the Minutemen should be like.
“It gives me a reason to pick up something for you next time we go on one of these scavenging trips, then.” Hancock takes out what looks to be a book from one of his large coat pockets. “Here, gift one.”
Preston takes the book, it’s clearly an artifact of the Old World. “I have a habit of picking up colonial America history books. I thought this one would be something you might like.” Preston shouldn’t be surprised to hear that, but he is. It gives him another perspective on Hancock. He thought the whole John Hancock costume and persona was a gimmick, but maybe there is something more to it.
“The Massachusetts Minutemen.” Preston reads out the title, now fully understanding why Hancock thought of him. “Thank you. I really don’t know how to repay you. I’m sure some person would pay a decent amount of caps for a book in this condition.” While from the Old World, it seems to be holding up well enough to be read, something that’s not so common.
Preston knows about the original Minutemen, mostly from hearing accounts told by higher ranking and older Minutemen back in the day. He knows some of their history, but he’s always open to learning more about the original Minutemen.
“It’s called a gift for a reason. Seeing you smile like that, it’s worth it.” Preston doesn’t even realize he’s smiling until Hancock points it out to him. “Anyway, tell me how you like it whenever you get the chance to read it.”
After that exchange, Hancock catches back up towards Nate, starting another conversation with him, leaving Preston to evaluate how much he’s misjudged Hancock.
Apparently far more than he’s willing to admit.
It’s been over a week since he last saw Hancock, mostly due to the Castle finally implementing some large scale projects. Preston misses Sanctuary, but he loves the view of the Castle when the sun sets. He knows Nate has been out handling a lot of ground work when it comes to the settlements; the Minutemen are making an amazing comeback.
Preston is discussing the new defense fortifications for the Castle when he sees Nate with Hancock walk under the Castle’s main entrance. Hancock tips his hat towards Preston, following Nate who is bombarded by fellow Minutemen. Preston goes to find something to do, knowing Nate needs at least thirty minutes to catch up on what happened here since the last time he visited.
Maybe five or so minutes later, he hears footsteps and Hancock’s voice. “Hey,” his voice echoes a little. “Quite the welcoming party. Not for me, but I can still appreciate it.” Preston turns around to see Hancock examining the room they are in, mostly the walls. “Damn, this stuff is really built to last. Glad you guys claimed it back, you deserve a good headquarters.”
“It was mostly the General’s doing.” There’s a reason why Nate leads the Minutemen despite his own personal issues and fears regarding leading people.
“Maybe he got the ass kicking part done, but you pointed him in the right direction. I’ve taken on a similar role before when he was playing dress up as the Silver Shroud.” Preston can hear Nate’s Silver Shroud impersonation in his head and he laughs.
“Is he still pretending to be the Silver Shroud?”
“He’ll go to Goodneighbor to remind anyone who wants to start shit that the Silver Shroud isn’t going to let them get away with hurting people. That and I think he really just wants an excuse to talk in that voice.” Both Hancock and Preston laugh now, and the atmosphere between the two men actually feels comfortable and welcoming. It’s far different from their awkward conversation from last time.
“I don’t think many could pull it off, but he does somehow.” The outfit sticks out, but Nate in general sticks out among the Wasteland so that isn’t saying much.
“He’s a man of many gifts, and speaking of gifts.” Hancock digs into a coat pocket and pulls something out. “Stick out your hand.” The command comes out of nowhere, but Preston does as Hancock says.
He feels Hancock press something into his palm, and once the hand is removed, he seems a small metal figurine. Preston brings it closer to his face, trying to get a better look at it.
“It’s a souvenir from some museum gift shop. It’s supposed to be Paul Revere, but it kind of just looks like any guy on a horse. Not that I’ve seen a real horse before.”
Once again Preston is left speechless, trying to figure out how to respond. This time he looks less confused and much more grateful. “By that look on your face, I think I did a good job picking out this gift.”
“I still haven’t gotten you a gift in return for last time.” He’s been so busy, mentally and physically. He’s had limited free time, and with that time, he’s mostly spent reading the book Hancock got him. He’s still not finished, but he’s making good progress.
“Then you’ll have to think of something good.” Hancock teases in a friendly manner.
“You’re really applying the pressure there.” Preston jokes back, but he really does take those words seriously. He’ll need to figure something out, but he isn’t sure where to start.
“Exactly.” He can’t believe he’s laughed twice now and being this comfortable with someone who isn’t someone he’s known for years through the Minutemen. “I can offer some suggestions that might help you out.”
“I think I might have something, and I promised to tell you about the book you got me.” The idea might not be a physical gift, but there’s something special and unique he can offer Hancock.
“Don’t make me guess and wait too long. You’re going to make me sound like I’m a ten-year-old boy again.” Preston can’t picture what a human looking ten-year-old Hancock would look like, instead seeing a ghoul child wearing his John Hancock costume.
Preston starts walking, gesturing Hancock to follow. “I’m going to give you a special tour of the Castle. We got it cleaned up and functioning enough that we’ll be able to see most of it in good working order.”
“Oh, oh, a special tour. Now I feel really special. I’m a true VIP guest.” Hancock follows Preston, both of them smiling.
Preston gives Hancock a full tour of the Castle, random trivia and Minutemen memoirs included. The entire time the two of them are close together, once in a while their arms or hands brushing up against each other. It doesn’t feel awkward at all, and in fact, it feels good. Preston doesn’t think about being cautious of making friends. Hancock seems to be genuinely interested in the history of the Castle. Their conversation doesn’t strictly stay on the Minutemen, talking about personal stories and adventures in the Wasteland. The topics stay lighthearted, though.
By the time the private tour is over with, the sun is starting to set. Standing on the upper ramparts is always a sight to see, and usually he does this alone. Hancock is with him this time, though. Usually this is where he reflects on things privately, thinking about past failures and finding inspiration to keep going. This time he doesn’t think about those things, instead he’s only admiring the view.
“Now this is a real gift.” Hancock is looking out onto the horizon. “You don’t get to see this every day, especially not from Goodneighbor.”
“I come up here to remind myself that there’s a future for the Minutemen and for me.” He feels almost shy to admit that, hesitant. He’s never told anyone that, but he’s never felt the need to until now.
“A view like this would do that. Another day survived in the Commonwealth.” Hancock turns to him. “Thanks for this. It was good getting to know you better like this.”
“It really wasn’t-” Hancock pulls down the tip of Preston’s hat to interrupt him from speaking.
“Take credit for a change. You deserve it. You did good.” Hancock looks and sounds very serious about it, but not harsh. Preston couldn’t pick up any joking tone in his words.
“All right.” He replies, still a bit startled from Hancock’s interruption. “You’re welcome.”
“That’s more like it.” Hancock moves his hand back, patting Preston on the shoulder before putting both hands in his coat pockets. “I don’t like assholes with big egos, but damn, take pride in a job well done.”
“When the job is done, I might.” Preston is finding it easier to make jokes when he’s around Hancock, and that is something he never expected.
Nate and Hancock stay the night, but Preston spends most of the night with fellow Minutemen and a bit with Nate. By the morning, Nate and Hancock are off on another task. Apparently Hancock has been helping Nate for the past week securing new settlements and alliances for the Minutemen. He’s surprised Hancock never brought that up. Why did he fail to mention it? For someone who lectured him on taking credit when due, Hancock failed to take credit for helping the Minutemen.
It’s another week that Preston doesn’t see Hancock. Preston finally finished the book Hancock got him, and he’s starting to read it over again. He has more time to read when he’s working within Sanctuary. Most of the stuff he does around Sanctuary is much smaller in scale versus anything at the Castle, but just as important to him.
He’s on night watch when he spots something or someone crossing the repaired bridge into Sanctuary. He turns the spotlight, seeing it’s Hancock by himself. Hancock raises his left arm, shielding himself from the direct light.
“Hancock?” It’s late, and wandering around the Commonwealth at night isn’t the best move. While the surrounding area of Sanctuary is mostly clear of raiders, there are still deathclaws and super mutants who roam the area. “Is something wrong? Why isn’t the General with you?” There’s a few brief seconds where Preston expects to hear the worst.
“We split up a few miles up. He’s heading out with Deacon and Valentine, and I decided to rest up here.” Hancock can’t see him, but he breathes out deeply as he moves the spotlight so it doesn’t directly shine onto him. “Need someone to help you keep watch?”
“Didn’t you just mention you wanted some rest?” If he heard that correctly, and he’s sure he did.
“I can stay a few more hours up if I have someone to talk to.” Preston doesn’t refuse, and maybe he should have. He’s so used to being on watch alone, but he’s been having some interesting and fun conversations with Hancock lately.
He’s not sure how many hours it’s been, but he’s been talking to Hancock the entire time. He can hear fatigue in the other’s voice, but he doesn’t say anything just yet. He’s starting to feel tired himself, and he should have tapped in someone else in so he can get some rest. Yet that means going to sleep and not being able to keep talking to Hancock.
For now, they are sitting next to each other, their conversation slowing down.
“I’m still awake I swear.” Hancock sounds just barely awake enough to say those words.
“You can call it a night if you want. I can keep watch by myself again.”
“Yeah, but…” Hancock doesn’t finish his words as he leans against Preston. “You’re not as boring as I thought you were, you know that? I knew you were a good guy, but it seemed that Minuteman thing was all you had going for you. But it’s not. You really care about people, that’s rare; I can appreciate that.”
“And I thought you were someone with loose morals who just fell into a position of power because you killed a few guys.” While he doesn’t agree with Hancock’s moral compass all the time, he’s gained a lot more respect and an understanding of him. “And yet you help others too, and you didn’t tell me you were helping the Minutemen.”
“Well, it wasn’t entirely selfless. I have reasons. I want to get to know you better, make your life easier. I thought the easiest way to do that was to help the Minutemen.” Hancock isn’t wrong with that, but Preston doesn’t understand why Hancock wants to know him better.
“You want to know me better?” Someone taking personal interest in him is something he’s not used to unless it’s about the Minutemen.
“First it was curiosity, the whole Minutemen making a comeback thing. I wasn’t sure we could be friends, but I wanted to be proven wrong. I don’t make many friends being mayor of Goodneighbor.” The last part makes sense with what Preston knows, but Hancock seems to be the type of person who most wastelanders would like to hangout and have a good time with.
“I don’t make many friends outside the Minutemen, and even then.” So many of his friends died during the Quincy Massacre and other failed Minutemen ventures.
“Yeah, I noticed that.” Hancock laughs once, but it’s groggy so it’s subdued. “Glad we worked something out, but I don’t know if being friends is the only thing I’d like.” The latter part of what Hancock says can be interpreted in some many ways. Should he assume? The man’s leaning against him on this cold night under the stars in Sanctuary and nothing feels awkward or forced about it.
“You’re not into ghouls, are you?” He doesn’t expect Hancock to be that direct, but it is Hancock.
“I’m not against being with a ghoul. I haven’t gotten to know any ghouls very well outside you.” He feels like he’s tripping over his words and he might slip up.
“So I’m you’re first,” Hancock doesn’t seem to mind his nervousness. “Lucky me.” Preston feels his left hand being held and then squeezed. In return, Preston squeezes Hancock’s hand back in acknowledgement. “I better set a good example so I don’t let you down.”