Thank you for viewing my Hancock/Lone Survivor fic! This story takes place on the way to find Virgil, taking the steps to the Insititute with the path of the Railroad. Also, it's important to note that they have NOT established a romantic relationship yet! Thank you!
Hancock watched Nate's chest rise and drop while he lied on the stiff floor of the abandoned cave, the only separation of the floor and the human being a few scraps of cardboard that Hancock had scavenged around the dripping wet cave along with the thin material of the dirty white t-shirt and cut up jeans that his companion wore. Hancock couldn't bring himself to remove his darkened abyss eyes from the human, watching with pity as the closed, sleepy gray eyes of his close companion remained shut in slumber, the only striking appearance being the white splotch of Vitiligo below his left eye illuminated in the green Pipboy illuminated hue. Hancock wondered to himself how this situation could end in anything that wasn't horrific, the only options seemingly grim and heartbreaking. Deciding to let the vault dweller continue to rest, the man in and out of consciousness with cold sweat sliding from his hair, Hancock closed his eyes and recalled the events that led to disaster.
They had gone looking for Virgil, getting word that a mutant within the area of the Glowing Sea could help bring their quest one step closer to reuniting Nate with his son. The ghoul of the duo had protested to the trip, offering to go himself and not let the sole survivor expose himself to the radiation poisoning that could kill him. Nate being the stubborn, determined man that he was, insisted that the upgraded defense power armor would hold off any of the intake.
Hancock still wasn't happy, still felt a pit in his stomach that screamed danger as if he had the Sight of Mama Murphy telling him that their path was going to become obstructed. He brushed it off, thinking it was the Jet making him nervous as it does with any raider being proof as they shoot of a magazine at a sound of a radroach. To be cautious, Nate gave him his typical eyebrow upward jump and his perfectly aligned old world teeth smile, offering to have Hancock pack the chems to be sure of their long and mentally faded travel. It was a compromise since Nate planned everything to the second, giving the ghoul a lot of trust to preform a task other than carrying equipment to sell to KL-E-0 back in Goodsprings. Satisfied with his own paranoia being nothing more than delusion, he agreed.
They left, Hancock defending the survivor in Raider and Hunny ambushes, scavenging together while half singing to the repeated songs that Travis played over the Diamond City Radio airwaves, and stopping on occasion to insert the Med-X needles into their arms as they shot up the liquid drug, basking in the nearly immediate high they received. They duo were laughing, dancing around, and growing closer by the second as they proceeded through the thick yellow/green radiation mist. Hancock joked the entire way that he should have brought his own power armor, afraid of becoming ill with radiation poisoning, the joke only being funny due to the fact of him being healed by the effects that would cause instant death with enough inhale. Both high off Med-X, Mentats, and their own company, the two walked unknowingly straight into the heart of an Alpha Deathclaw scouting point in which he sat, waiting for his next meal.
The rest for the vault dweller was a blur, unable to recall even setting foot out of the Home Plate residence to where he laid in the darkened cave currently, the trip having gone on for around one and a half days till their encounter that he couldn't remember a single second of. But, for Hancock, the memory was all too real, all too present of his own mistakes that could have prevented the situation if he had followed his instinct and insisted on traveling alone to find the mysterious Virgil through the perilous nuclear wasteland.
Hancock recalls how Skeeter Davis', "End of the World" played in the background of their conversation, how they pondered together with small laughs of how someone of Travis's nature even got the job of being a radio host in an otherwise thriving community. Hancock would take jabs at his brother during the conversation, reassuring that his brother was the, "fuck up who would hire a pussy in a confidence demanding role," explaining how the other mayor McDonough could only be the one to blame. The continued to trek through the toxic radiation with Nate's silver power armor methodically grinding out the sound of the metal against the dead ground with every step. For a moment, things had seemed as if they were looking up. Not only was the Railroad a trusted ally, but they had a clear path of their next part in finding Shaun instead of having to ask around the Commonwealth for any piece of information from the drifters that they could get out of them.
As Skeeter sang of how she didn't understand how the society went on while her world was collapsing, the beautiful vocals were drowned out by a loud, ground shaking cry of the beast that emerged from the thick, dense radiated fog, springing unto the pair in a moments notice. As Hancock turned his head to see what was happening a foot away from him, he watched how in a split second Nate went from smiling with his clean, bright Vault-Tech teeth to now laying unconscious face down on the gravel rock of the Glowing Sea terrain. He was hit directly in the back by the enormous sharp claw as he had been turned to Hancock, on his left, the beast having jumped out to strike in the spine. With the power armor being a defense to avoid any lacerations or possible broken bones, it didn't, however, prevent the Fusion Core from being split open like a can of Cram and seeping our whatever egg-head tech that if used to create the junction, a sticky yellow slime gooing out onto the rugged silver metal down to pool around Nate like it was his own blood.
The Fusion Core now completely failing, Nate was passed out on the ground before he could comprehend what was happening to him. The mighty arm of the dark leather skinned Deathclaw hit him with a force that caused the power armor to slam front first directly with the rock, creating contact while the helpless Ghoul widened his eyes and reached for whatever gun he had on him, the first to grab from his large duffel bag that he had stocked before leaving on the adventure.
Pulling out an automatic 10mm pistol with sleek design work, he gritted his teeth and moved to stand over the body of the sleeping Nate with the barrel of the gun aimed at the large Deathclaw's Head. Knowing he didn't hold a candle to the creature if the huffing and snarling animal decided he was his next target, Hancock did a trick that the human had taught him while scavenging around various settlements with a dense population of Yao Guai in the area.
Hancock held the gun out steadily in front of him and put on the facade of a unphased force of nature, lowering his head and staring deeply into the eyes of the taller beast that towered only a few feet away. He remembered to make himself seem bigger by spreading his legs, which he did comfortably over the power armor in a protective way, and yell at the creature to show dominance till someone won the standoff. He had once chance at this.
"Get back! Now! Get back!"
Silence fell upon the trio, the only sound emitting being the rapid alert beeping of the shut down power armor from lack of electricity and the rapid tapping of Hancock's own heart that boomed in his ears. If it wasn't for the life or death situation, the adrenaline would have been a great high to ride out.
Neither moved for a solid few seconds, not even to blink or adjust their position. Deciding that the smaller was not worth the effort, the Alpha gave out a forced snort through his nostrils and turned to lumber loudly away back into the thick radiation storm.
Holding the position long enough till he heard the beast roaring at another being in the distance, Hancock tossed his gun to the dark clay ground that followed a thud, uncaring about the machinery. He turned his body down to Nate, sucking in a breath of air as he moved towards his own right and crouched next to the unconscious human. Squeezing his eyes shut for only a moment, he prayed to whatever twisted God that was within earshot that his fellow companion was alive.
After saying a, "Hail Mary", he rolled with a strained breath the heavy outfit across the dirt till the handsome dark rebel haired man laid with his deep gray eyes closed, mouth open as he breathed out against the radiation when Hancock scrambled to remove the helmet. Hindsight, this wasn't a good idea to expose a human to the fog, but Hancock wasn't thinking clearly about the future, only the now.
The rough skinned ghoul put his decaying hand against the survivalist bearded neck, feeling around till he found a pulse pumping away at a steady pace. Hancock sighed out a breath of relief, then found the panic returning once more when he realized the mistake of taking off the helmet. Eyes widening, swearing at himself for the nightmare that he had just made worse, he acted fast to keep his friend alive.
What followed was a series of quick decisions, choices that he followed without second guessing himself because of being very close to out of time. Well, the human being out of time.
He managed to flip the man back over, removed the sticky yellow Fusion Core from the armor, then opened the suit to extract the limp man. Hancock tossed an muscled arm of the pale Nate across his white ruffled covered neck and began half dragging him towards what appeared to be an opening in a cavern wall.
Thanking the devilish spirit he had prayed to in the time of need, he entered the small entranced cave with the human, himself, and the green duffel bag of supplies that shifted with every movement.
Once inside, Hancock found skeletal remains of another poor fool who appeared to have the same idea once the ghoul turned the green light of the Pipboy on, making glances back at the bones that laid at the far wall of the small cave with only a small bottle of what seemed to be a packaged soda and a dried, crusty bloodied dull knife that laid across the hand of the decomposed body. Shaking his head, he made a swift motion of his dark eyes to peer back at the dweller who lied upon the left wall of the wetted cave, still breathing slowly.
Hancock used spare pieces of cardboard that he guessed was the bed of the man who died previously in the cavern to create a seal off from the radiation that was very slowly coming into the cave, having knocked pieces of rock and already existing cardboard out of the way to make it inside. He used whatever had remained to scrounge up a makeshift bed on the cold floor, then shifted the body of Nate on top of it.
John shook his head as he recalled the memories, laying his leather hand on the dirty white shirt that covered the man's chest to make sure he could feel his heartbeat and detect any irregular activity. He told himself that he was stupid, that he would be to blame when the man inevitably died due to radiation poisoning. The thought of death occurring struck the ghoul like a radiated thunder bolt when he, in a desperate attempt to selfishly medicate himself with Jet to fade out a little, realized his dire mistake.
Being in charge of the chems, and the trust granted by Nate, he had packed the duffel bag with chems of only the recreational category without thinking of how the human would also need Rad-X and RadAway. He was a ghoul, of course, the thought of packing the anti-radiation drugs not having crossed his mind for a second.
He found himself gripping the sides of the duffel bag with a sickly ashamed view of his own vices staring back at him. An entire duffel bag filled with nearly all Jet, Mentats, Mex-X, and Buffout. Food for the human and some dirty water was in there, yes, but nothing that could save his life as he desperately needed.
—
A day later, Hancock in a rage had thrown the zipped up duffel bag against the green illuminated wall and sent out an angry scream as he checked out the readings of the Pipboy. Boldly, the screen italicized, "Critical Radiation Poisoning", and showed the seconds pass with a little more entering the human's system with each breath. As an hour glass, Hancock knew it was only a matter of time before the sand grains slowly ran out.
Minutes seemed like days, laying only a few feet away from his closest friend as he watched the man sweat out any ounce of liquid he had and mumble softly to himself in the deep sleep. Any attempt from Hancock to wake Nate resulted in the man furrowing his dark eyebrows together in his slumber till the ghoul left him alone to rest.
Within that second day of passing out, Hancock felt a jolt through his body pass through his decayed spine when he heard Nate clearly say, voice full of gruff sleepiness and pain, " . . . Am I alive?"
He was laying on his back, eyes squinting with dizziness shaking the room as he stared up at the nearly pitch black cave. Hancock had shut off the Pipboy, knowing that it was no use to keep the cave lit up while the other slept and he drifted to nap himself in between checking the status of the human. This was the first he had gotten a sensible, awake word from him.
Scurrying on his knees to the hurt man, Hancock took the strapped on machine and flicked on the illumination till the surroundings was covered by a lime green iridescent filter against the wet shelter. Cringing from the stinging of the light, Nate shut his eyes tightly and coughed out a sputter with his bone dry throat. Hancock was quick to reassure him, soothingly pushing back the hair off of Nate's forehead till he got a good feel of the hot temperature from the skin. He spoke softly, though concerned wavered his tone when he felt the heated head. "Yeah, brother, you're alive. We're in a cave. You've been out for a while- I'm sure you must think you're in Hell waking up with my ugly mug to greet you, huh?"
Always the jokester.
Nate smiled and gave a small snort, wincing when he moved in the slightest. He retaliated back as Hancock removed his hand and went to the bag for some water, firing hoarsely, "You know damn well there are a lot worse things to wake up to in the Commonwealth. Hell, I'll take a ghoul over the ladies of the night near the Combat Zone. They've seen some shit and it shows."
Hancock found himself smiling for the first time since the accident, finding a container of dirtied water and shuffling back on his knees to Nate near his head when he heard the very accurate comment. Those ladies were a little worse for wear. He instructed Nate, opening the bottle with a screw off of the plastic lid, "I'm gonna sit you up, okay? Take it slow, very slow. If you hurt too bad, say the word and I'll lay you back down. You took one helluva hit."
Nate nodded in the green light, preparing a deep breath when he heard the soft click of the water being put on the damp cardboard. Wet with water or sweat was unclear. Either way, it would feel good to sit up even thought he could predict the pain that would ensue. He let out a grunt followed by a harsh moan through tight teeth when he was lifted upwards from behind by the ghoul, gasping hard from the pain that had left him breathless once he was fully sat, slumped over his own frame. With a shaking hand, he received the water from a passing leather hold and held the container up to his own mouth. He took a long sip as he cringed from the pain, a quarter of the water spilling down from his mouth from the quivering hand.
After he took in the much needed liquid, he sat it down lazily next to the makeshift bed and watched as Hancock stood up to sit on the cardboard with his legs spread out in front of the man, leaning back on his palms against the rock as he watched Nate wipe off the excess water from his half shaved beard onto his dirty shirt. After his breath caught up with him, Nate asked the burning question that hurt worse than the ache throughout his body.
"What happened?"
It was bittersweet. He wanted to know, but he didn't. He wanted to know why the fuck they were in a cave and why he felt so sick, aching and nauseous, but also knew that the answer was going to be bad based off of the grim expression that the other in front of him displayed without realizing.
Hancock removed from his pocket a small syringe that was filled with a drug that not only Nate craved from the pain, but because of his withdrawal that pounded through his skull. John talked softly, but firmly through the echoing cave as he prepped the needle of Med-X to deliver into his friend. Flicking the needle and pushing out any possible air, he started to recall the near tragedy. "Deathclaw big as a size down from the mother ones. We were shootin' the shit, talking, and he laid one strike across your back. Even with power armor, you fell like a ragdoll. If I'm being honest with you, Nate, I'm surprised you are alive. He couldn't have been more than two feet away. You had protection, but humans are fragile. He wasn't holding back that first swing."
Nate felt his eyes fall upon the needle, his shaking hand reaching out to take it from Hancock and load it into his now extended left arm. A frown was on his face as he heard the tale of his own pain. Hancock silently protested giving the quivering man the needle, scooting closer on his long red coat to deliver the injection himself in fear the shaking human would cause damage. He continued speaking, pushing very lightly the opened hand out till Nate lowered and accepted that the ghoul would be delivering the drug into his bloodstream. Both were no good junkies, drifters who were attached to chems. Though, any professional in the Commonwealth would have caved on their supply to ease the pain.
"We were on our way to see Virgil, that scientist if you remember any of that. We were gonna go see if he had any clues leading to your boy, but then we were- ah, interrupted. I managed to get you in here, but fucked up royally by taking your helmet off to see if you were still kickin'. Squeeze my hand, don't move."
Hancock extended his free hand to clasp Nate's tightly, the man happily extending the concerned movement as John poked the needle slowly into the vein that he had tapped out and found even without pressure to the bicep. Nate sucked in a breath through his teeth, groaning a soft grunt as he felt the sharp object make contact. The pain was replaced with a sigh of pressure as the swimming relief of the Med-X started to spill into his body. Taking his time, Hancock let the liquid go in with little amounts being pushed in at a time till the vile was empty and the hand in his went limp. Drugs were nothing short of a blessing in the apocalypse.
Hancock smirked in the green hued atmosphere as he saw Nate's lined forehead smooth out and eyes start to cloud after a small period of time. Removing the needle without any fuss and standing to find a place to dispose of it, he asked, "That a good one?"
Hancock's boots slapped the chunked up rocks as he walked to the cave entrance, tossing down the plastic with a soft, "clink!" and listened to the response on the vault dweller. "Will be even better when you fork me over some Mentats and Jet."
The rough skinned ghoul chuckled out a small laugh as he gave a shrug, going to the duffel bag that laid thrown against the wall from his previous outburst. "You know I'm not gonna let you mix anything with Jet, you psychopath. That shit will give you a great high, sure, but it will fuck you up. You want Mentats or some more Med-X?"
As Hancock opened the green bag, he found himself mentally cursing at his own selfishness all over again for not bringing the radiation cure. He didn't was to tell Nate, not yet. He didn't want to think about the man's reaction to the strong possibility of death being around the corner. He would let him ride out his high happy, saving the loud news for a later time.
Nate let out a loud, fake sigh as he pouted for not being allowed a much wanted hit of Jet. "Fine, mom. How about some 'Tats? I could use some perspective with my mind turning to slime. How about you?"
Hancock found the plastic covered supply of Mentats, removing a pill from the box that held a row of individually packed drugs with the cardboard flap becoming unsealed from the top. Standing up and placing himself in front of Nate, he sat comfortably. Reaching his hand out to pass off the pill, he gave a shrug in response as he thought out loud, "Might take some Mentats, too. I should save the Med-X for you. I'm sure you hurt like a bitch- I mean, I felt it through my body when you got hit and I wasn't even the one receiving."
The human's eyes glanced down at the pill, his dark cloudy eyes screaming of hazy thoughts from the high dosage of chemical intake from not only the Med-X, but the rads included. Without commenting on the drug use, he simply opened his mouth with his tongue falling upon his scarred lower lip instead of accepting the pill by hand. Silence fell between them, foggy eyes trained on Hancock as he waited to be dosed further.
The ghoul watched the display, shaking his head and letting a smile creep upon his lips. He joked out, reached his skin scarred hand up to Nate's mouth, "That shit must have you really fucked. A few days without it- that's what the X will do to you. Your eyes are so far gone, brother."
He placed the pill on the pink tongue, the white starting to dissolve on the liquid of the tastebuds as soon as he did so. Nate closed his mouth when Hancock had lowered his hand down to his lap, not breaking eye contact. Hancock decided it was best to take the focus off of the shitty situation, glancing around at the cave that held the two alive men and the third dead. Might as well keep company when death will be knocking soon, the thought making the ghoul nearly vomit.
Hancock watched the pill work it's magic as the addicted Nate was coming off of the withdrawal system from both of the intakes. Making conversation, Hancock asked slowly due to being unsure if the subject was touchy, "So, Nate, how was your life before? Before you were turned into a freeze pop, I mean."
Nate snorted, licking the Mentat between his teeth and letting it crunch into pieces with a bite. Shaking his head as his eyes wandered down to his stained socked cover feet, dirt clear back from his first venture out of the vault still clung from inside of his boots, he felt the nostalgia start to creep into his drug babysat brain. "Mm . . . Fucking pathetic."
Hancock raised a non existing eyebrow with his normal amused grin that never seemed to vanish. Well, at least when the sole survivor was conscious. Hancock nudged his black booted foot against Nate's, making contact in a playful feet manner for only a moment, exclaiming, "Get out! I'm sure you were some big wig smooth talker, huh? New gal every night with the caps pouring in?"
Nate shook his head with his half dazed smile dying down naturally, silence creeping in just as the radiation through the cracks of the rock had done and still continued to do. The human cleared his throat after a few dense seconds of silence, flipping up a hand in a nonchalant manner as his mind searched for some way to put the words gently. Deciding he was too stoned to be passive, too tired to be smooth, so he put the words blunt. "I worked at a ceramic dish company and was married to my wife at the ripe age of eighteen."
Hancock watched as the other basked in the greatness that was chems, feeling their conversation opening a door to a possible heart to heart. Sure, they've talked before about their past, but Nate was more tight lipped than the ghoul. He had mentioned he HAD a wife, Nora, and was missing his son, Shaun. Other than that, no discussion about the past came from his lips. Maybe this was the push he needed? Being high and having encountered death will change a person.
The uneven faced ghoul took a small nod, feeling as if they should both be holding beers and smoking on a half burnt cigarette in the comfort of a beat up couch, not dying in a wet cave. You know, conversational comforts.
"Mm, doesn't sound all that bad, if you ask me. No Mirelurks, constant threat of raiders, watching families starving all around you? Sure, being tied down must be a pain, but-"
Nate cut off Hancock before he could continue his response, raising a slowed hand up to stop the other from continuing on. Nate lowered his paled hand when Hancock's eyes blinked once in confusion, closing his ragged lips tightly in efforts to somehow retract the words. But, too late. Nate retaliated with a soft tone, "Must had been a pain. Had. Nora is gone and so is my boy. Fuck- Either you get me that Jet or I'll crawl over there, Hancock."
It was clear to even a blind Deathclaw that Nate wasn't ready to open up, at least, not with the amount of drugs he had consumed. He needed that hit of Jet, something stronger that would turn his brain to jelly and his surroundings to Wonderland.
Nodding once he heard the wavering undertone of grief, Hancock mumbled a, "sure thing, Nate," and rose from his seat off of the ground. To be fair, it was his own fault that he killed the mood by asking about the past. Hancock could now justify a reason he should let Nate mix the chem combo. Though it wasn't necessary, it would help bring the vault dweller back to a lighter state.
Walking to the beat up duffel bag, Hancock reached in mindlessly and removed the red inhaler that had been air pumped full of Jet. Feeling the smooth plastic with the occasional ridges from wear made him remember all the good times he had with this dear drug. Some of the best trips he ever had was from huffing the chemicals, getting him higher than any Med-X could provide. Eyeing the item in his right hand, he moved across the floor with his large boots to the skeleton that had been anticipating their arrival when they first entered the cave. His brain had been too wired before to make an examination, but now he found himself smiling widely at the drink the dead fingers sat around. Why, it was a Sunset Sarsaparilla! None other than the million year old orange soda that had swept the nation, causing the increase searches for the lucky Star Bottle Cap that may hide beneath one particular bottle. With enough of those very rare caps, one could win an unknown mystery prize. But, what were the chances of finding more than one?
Snorting, Hancock took in the bottle by the neck with his free hand. He promptly walked over to Nate, crouching down into a squat in from of him to show off the two prizes he held. Three if you considered Hancock's smile. "I'll cut you a deal, scavver", staying close while shaking the two objects between his fingers. Not only because they both required movement before use, but also out of excitement. "I'll personally administer the Jet, but first you have to try Sunset. Probably haven't had one since you been thawed out, huh? Ever have one of these before the war?"
The soft drink was common back before Nate was frozen, remembering how you could go to a diner and order the tangy drink as a beverage when you first arrived. He hadn't seen one in two hundred years, give or take. Guessing by the dust that was clouding the outside and the year they were in, Nuka Cola's close competitor was most likely a delicacy in the harsh lands of America. Nate talked with a smile reappearing, taking the dirtied glass bottle from Hancock, "Yeah, we had these things everywhere. You could go to a barbecue without seeing one of these sucker's. I prefer Sarsaparilla to any Nuka- actually, maybe not. I do have a little bit of a cherry-sweet-tooth. You got yourself a deal, ghoul."
Hancock mentally high fived himself. It was the perfect transition to talking about the past, nostalgia that you can hold being one hell of a drug on its own. Hancock pushed, feeling as if Nate should reminisce with him. If not, how will he cope with the shit piling up? They had nothing but time and each other for the moment. Might as well get some therapy sessions in.
Twisting off the cap with a hard rotation, Nate recognized the familiar feel of the cold metal imprinting his palm from the outside divots that held the cap against the bottle. Throwing the cap next to him with a soft clank, he held the cold, damp drink in his palm. It was perfect temperature due to the concealed cave. Ice cold, not quite, but good enough for him.
Hancock watched eagerly, unsure of what the sweet looking drink tasted himself. He started to undo the closed cap of the Jet, asking with a heavy amount of curiosity, "So? Is it still good? What is it like?"
Nate took a short sip, deciding after an argument with himself that he should savor it rather than down it. Feel the liquid soak into his tongue, he let out a refreshed sigh and let his smile return as the answer. "Tastes just like it did back when I was surrounded by picket fences. It hasn't changed. It's bitter, sweet, and tastes like medicine."
It was a distinct flavor, one many craved after being without for a while. Whether that was thanks to the sugars inside or a corporation secret was still unknown. He reached out and gently took the once inhaler in his left hand, shaking it a few times for good measure while the ghoul still remained squatting a short distance away. He had offered to give the Jet to the human, but Nate was already inhaling a deep breath of the drug after pressing down the cold silver button on the top.
Hancock observed Nate hold the white mist into his mouth as long as he could before letting it very slowly pour out of his mouth and up into the air where it would evaporate. Eyes locked with his partner, light headed from the first hit, Nate asked a dubious question while the smoke between them slowly dripped out. The squatting one of the pair was focused on the disappearing smoke that left those soft lips, making his own face feel hot as they spoke to him and only him.
"You want a taste, Hancock?"
A shiver bolted through what was left of Hancock's spine, his head slowly nodding before he could lean in close to the soft man and truly try out the flavor of his lips for himself. He wanted to, so badly, about to execute his quick thrown together plan when he found realized Nate was holding something between them.
It was the fucking Sunset Sarsaparilla bottle, liquid drink splashing inside of the glass between the passing.
The ghoul shook his head quickly, almost drawing out a laugh from himself as he realized his perverted mistake. Backing away by a little, he sat down normally with his knees pulled to his chest, smiling as he declined the offer. "On, uh, second thought, I'll pass. Don't wanna get hooked on another thing."
Nate chuckled softly, his chest rumbling with the orchestra of his vocals. He shrugged, taking one final tiny sip before sitting down the mostly full drink. "If you say so."
Letting the glass clink against the rock interior floor, the dweller released a precise and relaxed sigh, despite the radiation making him feel sicker than a dog. Turning his head to comment something after scanning the green lit room, his eyes caught the attention of an object of the floor. His lips curling into a smile, which turned into a goofy grin, he laughed as if he had heard the joke of a lifetime. It was loud, hardy, and sincere.
Hancock's eyes whipped up from his dirtied boots, studying Nate for only a moment before chuckling in return of the fit of laughter that rang between them. "What? Did I miss something?"
A scrap off of the ground, metal, was the answer to the question. Nate held the painted metal up to his face, turning it to show off to Hancock as a metal.
Hancock's eyes widened at the prize, shaking his head in astonishment with a disbelief utter of one word broken up.
"Mother. Fucker."
It was a bright blue, shining star. A Sunset Sarsaparilla Star Cap.