Goodneighbor – one of the last places Nick ever wanted to end up. He and Jill planned on heading back to Diamond City to check on the agency after the whole Institute ordeal. But, the two were called to take the long way around – perhaps as a sort of "break" from cleaning up the Commonwealth. Maybe it could have been called a romantic-getaway, considering their recent change from friends to lovers. Jill mentioned something about needing a stiff drink and a cigarette. Nick agreed wholeheartedly, suggesting the Third Rail, despite his aversion to that loathsome neighborhood altogether. He had a soft spot for jazz, and always considered it a rare treat to hear Magnolia sing. He could stand Goodneighbor so long as everyone "played nice," and the Third Rail was usually the best spot in that town for a good crowd.
It was a special day in the town of Goodneighbor – the 4th of July. Mayor Hancock regarded it as a necessity to celebrate the holiday, even though the United States was but a distant memory. The town was decorated in faded banners of red, white, and blue. Old American flags were hung about the balconies that looked down over the dirty streets. Everything was closed that day, save for the Third Rail, and the clinic. Chem addicts and drunks were expected to give the local medics an overflow of work throughout the day, and especially the following morning. It was only noon when the pair made it to the city of misfits, and there were already Ghouls and humans alike that were too high to stand, or even form a coherent sentence.
Hancock was helping a group of people hang a large flag from the ceiling of the Third Rail. He carried a thin, blonde woman on his shoulders, who was tacking the last corner of the flag into place against the subway barrier.
"That's it, sweetheart." He crooned, patting her thigh. "Didn't I say I'm better than a ladder?" The woman giggled, letting him crouch down for her to leave. Hancock knew he'd be seeing her later. The Ghoul turned to face the Vault Dweller and her partner. "Hey, guys! It's been a while. You here for the festivities today? 'Cause they don't start 'til after sundown. Believe it or not, we have actual fireworks!"
"Hey, Hancock." Jill greeted him quietly. "I didn't know there was a party in town."
"I forgot to mention it to ya." Nick's eyes darted about, like he was expecting someone or something to jump him. "Goodneighbor celebrates the 4th of July, just like the U.S. did before the war."
"Damn straight, we do!" Hancock laughed, motioning to Whitechapel Charlie. The old Mr. Handy brought over three shots of whiskey. Taking his glass, the Mayor continued. "July 4th, 1776 – the day our ancestors gained their independence. Our celebration is one-hundred percent in dedication to them, and everything they stood for." Lifting the shot glass above his head, he beamed. "Of the people, for the people!"
"Of the people, for the people!" The bar patrons echoed him, raising their own drinks in response. The spirit of Goodneighbor never ceased to amaze Nick. Despite all of its flaws, its people stood up for and believed in something far greater than themselves. It was moments like these that caused the detective to stop and rethink his feelings about certain things. Sometimes, he still wondered if his own thoughts and feelings were completely separated from the old Nick Valentine's. His intuition told him that they were separate, but the festering doubt continued to scream at him from the tortured depths of his mind.
"Well, we just came out to relax for a while, but if Nick's okay with it..." Jill's voice snapped Nick out of his thoughts. He glanced over at her inquisitively. "I'd like to stay for the celebration."
"Why wouldn't I be?" Nick smiled and shrugged, answering without pausing to think about it first. "We said we needed a break, right?"
"Cool, cool!" Hancock nodded, his hands on his hips. "Hope you don't mind me asking, but what happened to make you two wanna vacation in Goodneighbor? Last time I saw you after the whole Pickman thing...ugh..." The Ghoul shuddered, visibly disgusted by the memory of how Jill had described Pickman Gallery to him in vivid, grotesque detail. "First you dropped Bobbi, then you left after visiting the Memory Den, am I right?"
"Yeah...it's a long story." Jill took her shot glass and handed the remaining one to Nick. She thanked Hancock, downing the pungent liquid in one gulp. Her once porcelain, now healthily tanned face flushed red, and she shot the detective a look from the corner of her eye. He didn't know what such a look from her meant, but something about it caused excitement in his brain. He followed her lead, taking his shot after a hasty thanks to the Mayor.
"No problem, guys. Tell ya what...why don't you two tell me all about it?" Without waiting for a response, he procured three cigarettes, giving them each one. "I know the look of 'holy shit, what the fuck did I just go through?' pretty damn well." He gave Jill a concerned expression before elbowing Nick in the arm. "Besides, I always have time for this guy. He's a good man, Jill, Synth or not."
"Believe me, I know this very well. Thanks, friend." Jill took the offered cigarette with zeal, and lit it with a flip lighter she kept in her pocket. She passed the lighter to her Synth lover, igniting it for him as he placed his own cigarette between his lips. He leaned over toward the flame, torching the end of the white tube, and giving Jill the same glance she'd shot him after draining her whiskey. "Mm..." Although nearly inaudible, she made an unintentional sound of approval. She winked at the detective, offering him a sly smirk. He winked and smiled in return, lifting his cigarette and nodding as an indication of thanks for the light.
"How 'bout we take a seat at the bar?" The Mayor suggested giddily. "Or, if you'd prefer somewhere quieter, we could always head up to my place." Hancock was oddly more excitable than normal; his usual social self actually being rather mellow.
"If it's all the same to you, Jill, I think the bar's been waiting for us." The detective jerked his head toward the bar in a rudimentary gesture.
"Couldn't agree more." The General stifled a yawn between puffs from her cigarette. The previous night's stay atop the Mass Fusion building left her feeling fatigued and poorly rested. She and Nick only had sleeping bags to work with, and they both agreed they were too exhausted to hunt for a proper bed after storming the Institute. Nick wasn't used to getting tired, but his fatigue was more of a mental and emotional exhaustion that caused his body to feel weak.
The trio situated themselves as close as they could to Magnolia's stage. The jazz singer was taking one of her longer breaks at the other end of the bar, letting her cords rest before going on again. Her next performance wasn't until later in the evening. Hancock leaned over the bar and called something out, then Charlie brought over another round – rocks glasses this time. Hancock's was chilled American whiskey, and Jill's was straight and Irish, just how she liked it. Nick was surprised by Hancock's memory of his personal favorite – his own elixir was straight scotch, which he could tell by taste alone that it was imported from Scotland. How one Ghoul could get his hands on such exotic Pre-War items, one may never know.
"Okay, I gotta ask right off the bat..." Hancock set his glass down on the bar counter after a lengthy sip. He turned his head to look at the visitors to his town, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "Did you two have anything to do with that massive explosion yesterday? We thought we were having an earthquake here! I had scouts report seeing a bright, bluish-white light before the boom. It was not too far northeast up the river."
Nick and Jill exchanged awkward glances before confirming to the Mayor their doings. The two then began to talk about their entire journey together, leaving no major detail untouched in their recollection of the tale. Until then, Hancock never knew much about Jill. He eagerly questioned them throughout the conversation, wanting to learn every little bit of information he could about the Institute's demise. Tracking down and infiltrating the Institute took a lot of time and resources. Much of the pair's travels involved scavenging for parts to build and sustain settlements, as well as creating the molecular relay, and helping the people of the Commonwealth with their problems. Altogether, the two had a good but tiring run, and Hancock understood exactly why they needed a break from it all.
When Jill spoke of Shaun, her voice quivered only slightly. It was rarely, if ever noticeable, but Nick was always aware of it. Almost instinctively, he took her hand. When she looked at him, he squeezed it gently, smiling warmly. She returned the gesture, having lost her train of thought.
"Hey, if you don't wanna talk about your son, trust me, I understand." The Mayor seemed taken aback by her willingness to bring it up in the first place. He didn't even know she had a son, let alone that she was looking for him after he was kidnapped by the Institute. As soon as she brought it up, he felt a sharp pang of regret – it was never his intent to reopen fresh wounds.
"No, no...it's alright." Jill's gaze was cast to her drink, and her smile was sorrowful. "Yeah, I still love him...I just don't understand how someone I supposedly created was able to be so...unlike me."
"Now, I hope you don't mind me asking, but what do you mean by 'supposedly?'"
"I don't know, Hancock." Jill handed Charlie some caps for two packs of cigarettes. Passing one to Nick, she opened the other, impatiently beginning to smoke. "Let's just say I have my doubts that I'm really human."
Such a bold statement caught Nick off guard. He choked on the smoke from his own cigarette, coughing like he'd swallowed something unpleasant. He looked at her in a way he never had before. His thoughts were torn between uncertainty, and...something else. He was positive she was human, because she lived before the war. Then again, so did Nick Valentine. He tried to zone in on the other, more mysterious thought or feeling buzzing around in his head. However, Hancock spoke up, disrupting his attempt to identify the abnormality.
"Not gonna lie, that's some pretty heavy shit. But hey, Nicky and I are proof that you don't need to be human to enjoy life, right?" He was always a source of profound wisdom when he wanted to be, which astonished the detective to no end.
"Yeah, you're right." Jill grinned sheepishly, stifling another yawn. "Damn. I'm pretty wiped." Checking her Pip-Boy, she saw that three hours had passed since she and Nick began telling Hancock their story.
"You know what? Go on up to the Old State House. I have a spare room you can use. Just tell my guys I sent ya, and they'll make sure no one fucks with you while you rest."
"Go ahead, Jill. I'll probably still be here with Hancock when you wake up." The old Synth cupped her face with his left hand, rubbing her cheek softly with his thumb. Her eyes were sporting dark circles underneath them, leading Nick to believe she didn't actually sleep after destroying the Institute. "You need sleep."
"Mm...yeah. Okay." She muttered, not meeting his gaze. "Thanks, Hancock. See you two in a bit." Once she turned and walked away, Nick could have sworn he heard her sigh and say: "I'll sleep when I'm dead." He watched her leave the Third Rail, wondering if he should go after her. He must have made a move that would have suggested it, for the Mayor slapped a hand on the detective's shoulder.
"Leave her be. She needs time to grieve." The Ghoul produced an inhaler of Jet from his coat pocket, indicating it was time to move on to lighter topics.