Hancock hadn't noticed it initially. A light tickle across his knuckles here, the feeling of something brushing against his neck there. Given, he was high off his ass eighty percent of the time and had experienced some strange things in that time, but looking back on it he felt like he should have noticed. Touch was always the first sign of a soulmate, but it wasn't until he felt the distinct sensation of being shot through the calf and almost toppled down the stairs of the Third Rail one evening that it occurred to him maybe the universe was done being a dick to him and had finally given him something good.
Naturally, worry had pierced him shortly after it clicked what had been happening to him over the last several days; a bit of panic was natural at the thought of your soulmate limping through the wasteland wounded. But around three in the morning, after a sleepless night of heavy drinking and chem usage, he felt the light caress across his knuckles again and figured until the bond finished forming that was the best confirmation of safety he could hope to get. He wondered how many times she'd gotten a contact high just by touching the bond and almost cackled in delight at the thought, despite not being certain if that was possible this early on in the bonds development.
Hancock was certain it was a she, now that he was aware of their bond; he could feel her as if she was right beside him, or, more accurately, a part of him. Her heartbeat thumped away in time with his, obviously more relaxed than earlier; he could honestly say he'd never felt more foolish for not realizing it sooner. It was strange, to feel someone becoming such an important part of you so quickly – as if they were slowly fusing together.
Taste came next, and he was almost scared to eat anything for fear she would hate it. But then again, if she was out wandering the wasteland that was the commonwealth, she was probably one of the scavengers low on supplies and dying for a taste of anything that resembled a real meal, so he didn't feel too terrible when he caved and sat down to eat dinner at the Third Rail. A wisp of touch across his lips let him know she had tasted it; he smirked when the familiar sensation of licking his lips followed shortly after. So she liked Mirelurk Cakes then, he noted as he filed the memory away for later.
After two days, he finally got a taste of what she was eating – and the worrywart part of him knew it was because she hadn't eaten in a while, after he'd felt the pang of hunger pains coming on – and he almost winced. It tasted like dog food, and while he wasn't one to judge doing what you had to do for survival, he couldn't wait until he could actually talk to her, but that one always came last. He'd just have to wait a little while longer before he could get her here.
There wasn't a specific point where he realized he was able to feel her emotions. There was a flicker of something he knew wasn't his every once in a while, and he hadn't really cared until the day he could smell burning flesh. He'd covered his face at the stench, but it hadn't been enough to shield him when suddenly he was seeing the world through her eyes and a deathclaw was barreling towards her. The fear was undiluted, like her normal broadcastings to him were, as the creature raised its claw to slice down on her.
He had stumbled back with a shout, alerting his guards something was up as he cursed and tried to speak to her – to help her through this shitty situation – but she never heard him. He was convinced she was about to die, and he'd never hear her voice, or feel her skin, and part of him knew the universe was too much of a dick to just let him have this one good thing.
Hancock hadn't been that scared in years, even as he watched her blow up multiple vehicles every time the thing stumbled near one; she'd tried to keep her distance after the first whack to her power armor fucked up her right leg, and the pain seemed to sear into him, making him wonder whether she was simply stumbling on a faintly injured leg or if she'd broken it. It took no time at all before she turned the minigun on the beast and it finally collapsed, leaving her a hot mess of adrenaline, even as she fought to get out of the suit. Oh, baby. He'd thought, relieved and pained as she stumbled away from the suit and fell back against the door of the building behind her, trying to catch her breath and stop the shaking of her hands.
There was a ghostly ache in his leg from her own pain, and he wished he could have comforted her more than just the gentle caress of her neck and face, though it seemed to help matters significantly when she realized he was there. Her eyes fluttered closed and he felt a squeeze of his hand; he took one of his own hands and squeezed in return as her eyes opened and she steeled herself to stand. About that time a woman in a vault suit came sprinting over to her, checking her over hurriedly even as she tried to get to her feet; five others followed behind the dark-haired woman, with various looks of relief and worry.
You saved these people, didn't you? He wasn't sure how he knew that exactly – the handshake that the man in the fancy hat gave her was some indication, he supposed – but his heart swelled with pride. A woman after his own heart, it seemed. Unfortunately, either from the crash of her adrenaline or the pain she was experiencing, his soulmate hadn't managed to walk two steps before passing out and their connection was severed.
"Seriously, Nora?" He heard her for the first time in the wee hours of the morning – just before dawn broke through the sky. It had actually woken him up, to hear her exasperation as clearly as if she was in the same room; he focused on the bond and his world drifted to the background. At first, he wasn't sure what he was seeing. There were only a few people milling around, but after several seconds of thought, he realized she was in Diamond City. His heart sputtered in excitement when it occurred to him just how close she was.
"People need hope, Annie." The woman his soulmate – Annie – was arguing with responded, and he felt the woman he was destined to be with roll her eyes.
"They need to get it together and start trying to get some law and order around this place instead of letting everything continue to go to shit. Their world sucks, Nora. It sucks and you know it, and lying to them about it is only going to make them comfortable living like this. People are starving, and dying, and oppressed, and sold! Slavery! They need to grow a pair and do something about their situation." He listened in a little longer, figuring out that apparently Nora had given Piper an interview and she'd spewed some pseudo-inspirational crap about how well humanity was doing considering the nuclear fallout, which presented a whole new bucket of questions he wanted to ask as soon as the moment felt right. Hancock found himself infatuated with the way she saw the world, even though her opinion was relatively negative of the people in it. Sadly, he dozed back off before she calmed down enough he thought it would be appropriate to make an introduction.
By the time he'd woken up and checked back in on her, she was back at Sanctuary. He burned the name into his memory as soon as he saw the sign. At least he knew where to start if he had to go out and find her. He watched as she welded some metal together, felt the heat from the flames and the occasional spark that made her jump when it came too close to her clothes.
"Hey there, hot stuff." His voice seemed to have spooked her, because she jerked to attention and nearly dropped her welding rod before turning it off and glancing around curiously. He took note of the rubble that was laying around, and the figures of a few people working to change that in the distance.
"… Hi?" She murmured hesitantly, and he felt the bashfulness roll over him like a warm blanket. It was quickly discovered that she was not a verbal person, well, she was prone to word vomit when she was worked up, but otherwise pretty soft spoken. Annie communicated things better through actions. Hancock smiled.
"John Hancock; it's nice to finally speak to you, sunshine." Disbelief, then amusement. The feelings warmed him thoroughly. He couldn't imagine life before feeling her in everything he was, despite it having only been two weeks at the most; he wondered how he's survived before her.
"As in, historical figure John Hancock? Because I'm pretty sure he was dead even before my time. I'm Annabelle Rhodes." Before her time? He decided to puzzle over it later, and he felt her grow flustered when he said her name, meekly insisting he could just call her Annie. It was nice to know she was just as into the bond as he was, at least. Even if it was a bit strange to be bonded so late in life. He remembered the woman he'd seen before – Nora – was wearing a vault suit and wondered if they had both come out of a vault. It seemed obvious, when he thought about it longer.
"You can just call me John." He kicked back on his couch, popping a few mentats into his mouth as she started working on… what was she working on?
"I'm building a wall around Sanctuary." She responded as if she heard the thought and he furrowed his brow a bit in confusion. He'd never heard of soulmates reading minds before. As he opened his mouth to ask her about it, she continued babbling.
"It's a pretty safe place, but I'd feel a lot better with some control over who can get in here, y'know? And from my understanding, walls seem to work pretty well." Hancock snickered, nodding his head in agreement.
"Yeah, seems to work for Goodneighbor." Shamelessly, he dropped his location and could practically feel the gears turning in her head. Annie rolled her shoulders, humming thoughtfully and his smirk shifted to a genuine smile at the soft flutter of nerves that collected in her stomach.
"So you're in Goodneighbor?" She tried to sound casual, but there was a giddy undertone that made his heart swell with affection. Though, it spoke volumes about her knowledge of the commonwealth that the name didn't make her even the slightest bit tense. Or her bravery, he thought, giving her the benefit of the doubt as the image of her gunning down a deathclaw surfaced in his mind. Most people flinched, already having some idea of its reputation, but his little vaultie didn't. Maybe he was just overthinking it – Mentats, y'know?
"Oh, sweetheart, I run Goodneighbor." He rasped, smug. It was so quick he almost thought he'd imagined it. A heat pulsed in his lower abdomen, familiar and yet so different from what he was used to. But then it was gone with an awkward shift from his soulmate, who was feeling particularly flustered by her own reaction, it seemed. Part of him wanted to comment on it, but when she quickly shifted the conversation to rambling about what a pain farming was, he decided to let it go for now. They had plenty of time to address her kinks, right now he just wanted to hear her voice.