The smell of cigarette smoke permeated through the air of The Third Rail as MacCready sipped his drink; his absolute favorite, a blend of Nuka Cola Quantum, whiskey, vodka, gin, and a touch of radscorpion venom. It was strong. Real strong. But after what he'd been through, he needed something that was gonna hit him hard. Magnolia's voice echoed throughout the bar, however MacCready wasn't listening. He was only worried about getting absolutely smashed.
He'd had with the Gunners. He had it with the Trigger Men. He'd had it with the jerks in Wasteland trying to haggle him for all he was worth. He'd had it with killing. With the blood. With the guilt of not knowing if he'd done the right thing. He always said that he'd walk a hundred miles if there was a pile of caps waiting for him at the end, but God Almighty the weight of his morality crisis was crushing him to pieces. A gun for hire should be unattached. They shouldn't care about the people they killed. But he'd done something he had never done in his life and he couldn't forgive himself.
He had been hired to take out a supposed chem peddler just outside of Walden Pond. It was a regular job. No big deal. He situated himself on a high tree limb, cigarette in his mouth, rifle in his hand. The target was stood approximately 500 yards away. Perfect range. He put out his cigarette and lined up his shot. Deep breath, pull, and bang. Directly to the back of the head. One shot kill. He climbed out of the tree to loot the body, as he did with all of his kills. He approached the corpse, expecting to see a typical wasteland chem dealer. What he found instead was a woman, visibly pregnant, carrying a pack full of food, purified water, and blankets. He was horrified at what he had just done. Overcome by his emotions, he collapsed over the body and sobbed. He hugged the dead woman close, gasping apologies between sobs. He held her head in his hand, ignoring the blood-matted hair sticking to his skin. "I swear," he choked, "I didn't mean to kill you. If I had known…"
He had been chased out of the area by a pack of feral ghouls. Back at the Gunner's base, he confronted his superiors, furious and distraught. "Do you have any fuc- any idea what that contract you gave me was?"
"Yeah. Some stuck up Diamond City broad got pissy because some chem peddler was pushing the shit on her kid. She wanted you to take the bitch out. What's the problem?"
"That wasn't a fu- freaking drug peddler! She was pregnant! No drugs were on her. No caps. Just food and water. And her belly…" his voice broke. "She was almost ready to give birth. And you assho- you people went with it?" He demanded answers.
"I suggest you step the fuck back, MacCready. You were hired for the job. You do not question the job. You. Fucking. Do it."
"I'm not going to work for someone who thinks that killing an innocent pregnant woman is justifiable because of the caps. You can go to hell. I'm leaving." MacCready walked out and slammed the door.
"I don't wanna see your fucking face in Gunner territory, MacCready. You fucked up big time." the Gunner commander shouted.
Three days later he found himself in Goodneighbor. Nobody gave a shit about him there. He could lie low, get himself together, and drink himself stupid.
Five drinks later, MacCready was damn near blackout drunk. An interesting fact about MacCready is that he cannot control his emotions when he's damn near blackout drunk. Within five minutes, he was sobbing, screaming apologies at nobody. Granted, he was alone in the VIP lounge, and Magnolia's crooning voice was still drifting lazily throughout the bar, and the patrons were anything but quiet, his screaming sobs could be heard by just about everybody in Goodneighbor.
"Somebody shut that motherfucker up!" one of Goodneighbor's many drifters shouted angrily.
"Hey, give the guy a break. You don't know what's up," a voice replied.
Moments later, someone walked into the door to the VIP lounge. MacCready looked up, his face stained with tears. "Who are you?"
"C'mon, buddy. You don't know me?"
MacCready shook his head.
"Damn, shouldn't you know the mayor?"
MacCready took a moment to calm his voice before he spoke. Before him stood the mayor of Goodneighbor, Mayor John Hancock. "I'm sorry sir. No disrespect intended," he slurred.
"It's alright, kid." Hancock sat next to him. "Sounded like you're dealing with some tough shit. Whole town could hear you bawling. What's on your mind?"
MacCready shook his head. "Y-you don't wanna hear about it," he hiccuped.
"'Course I do. I wouldn't have asked if I didn't," Hancock replied, placing a hand on his shoulder. MacCready remained reserved. "Come on kid. Maybe I can help you. If not, it's always nice to have a shoulder to cry on."
MacCready nodded. A stray tear rolled down his cheek, which Hancock quickly dabbed away with his thumb. "Talk to me, kiddo. I'd offer you a drink but you seem half hit in the ass already."
"Thanks for the offer," he smiled sadly. He took a deep breath and looked at Hancock's deep black eyes. They were oddly comforting, despite their menacing appearance. "I.. I fuc- messed up. Bad," he mumbled, barely audible.
"How so?" Hancock asked, his arm slung along the back of the sofa.
"Well, I work… worked for the Gunners." he hiccupped.
"Nasty bunch, no offence," Hancock cut in.
MacCready nodded. "They gave me a job. Take out a chem peddler. No big deal, right?"
Hancock nodded. Though he was known to partake in the almost excessive use of chems, he understood why someone would want to take out a chem dealer. They're violent. They're immoral. They don't give a fuck about anybody but themselves. "Right."
"Well, I go to Walden, where they say she was. She's got all the defining features, ya know? She got the blue bag over her back where she keeps the shi- the stuff. She got the dark hair. So I take her out." He imitated the shooting of a gun. "Bang."
Hancock nodded. "Bang."
"So, I go to loot the chick. Chems bring good caps. Kinda defeats the purpose of killing a chem dealer, buuuut papa's gotta provide for his kid. So I turn her over, see if she's got anything worth taking, like a necklace or a bit of armor." MacCready's voice started to break.
"Shhh, it's alright," Hancock whispered, wrapping his arm around MacCready's shoulders.
MacCready leaned into the hug. "So I turn her over… and she's pregnant." He started to sob again. "She was ready to have the baby soon… and all she had… blankets and food..."
Hancock wiped MacCready's tears and hugged him with both arms. "I killed her… I fucking killed her and her baby." he wept.
"Hey, hey, hey. You didn't know," Hancock whispered softly. "It's not your fault."
"Yes it fucking is," MacCready wailed. "I shouldn't have taken the fucking job. I should have just…"
"You had no way of knowing. Besides, you said it yourself, you needed the money for your kid," Hancock consoled. Hancock took his face in his hands gently, making him look up at him. "It's not your fault. You had no intentions on hurting someone who didn't deserve it, correct?"
MacCready nodded, looking straight into the ghoul's eyes. They were full of genuine compassion, a rarity in the Commonwealth.
"Then you did nothing wrong. The blame lies in the person who assigned you the job. Not you. You were just following orders." Hancock wiped the tears from MacCready's face with his sleeve and planted a kiss on his forehead.
MacCready flashed a smile at Hancock. Despite his teeth being broken, rotten, and sparse, it was a beautiful smile, a smile that a man like Hancock could learn to love. "Need a place to stay for the night, kid?"
"Yeah," he replied. "I'd really appreciate that."
"Good," Hancock stood, holding a hand out to the shit-faced drunk merc. "You can stay with me." He wrapped an arm around him and helped him stumble up the stairs. The two slowly made their way out of The Third Rail and toward the Old State House.
"Hey, looks like Hancock's got himself a new piece of ass," one drifter commented loudly. MacCready blushed.
"He's a handsome piece of work, but you know me. I'd never take advantage of someone when they're drunk. Ain't right," Hancock called back. Even drunk, MacCready could appreciate this ghoul's charisma. He'd never been with another man, let alone a ghoul, but there was something about Hancock. His desire to do good, his genuine compassion, or simply the fact that he was the sexiest looking ghoul in the Commonwealth.
The two slowly made their way up the winding staircase of the old statehouse, before reaching the room with two sofas opposite one another. Fahrenheit sat on one, eyeing the mayor and his partner suspiciously. "Who's this?" she inquired.
"Huh. Never did catch your name, kid," Hancock said, lowering the two of them down on the sofa opposite Fahrenheit.
"MacCready," he mumbled.
"Just MacCready?" Hancock asked.
"Yeah… but you," he slurred, "You can call me RJ."
Hancock looked at Fahrenheit, MacCready leaning on his chest. "Tell everyone in Goodneighbor that anyone who wants to fuck with RJ MacCready is gonna have a serious problem with the mayor."
She nodded and left the room, closing the door behind her.
MacCready smiled drunkenly. "I think I like you, Hancock," he hiccupped.
Hancock chuckled. "We'll see if you're still saying that when your sober."
Only moments later, MacCready had fallen asleep in his arms. Hancock followed soon after, taking a hit of Jet just before cuddling up closer and falling asleep.
MacCready woke up much earlier than he normally would, especially as hung over as he was. He was confused; confused about his surroundings and the body next to his. He sat up, rubbing his neck. Must have slept on it funny, he thought.
"Well good morning sunshine," Hancock cooed, sitting up and stretching. MacCready only had a vague memory of the night before. He remembered being in the bar, he remembered crying until his voice grew hoarse, and he remembered a kind hearted ghoul comforting him. But he didn't remember how he had ended up cuddled up next to said ghoul in the Old State House.
"Uh… Did...Did we…"
Hancock cut him off. "I figured you'd act like this once you sobered up. Nobody wants to wake up next to a ghoul," he sighed sadly.
"No no no, I didn't mean it like that," MacCready tried to explain himself.
"I understand. I mean look at me. I'd have regrets too."
"Don't talk like that," MacCready said comfortingly. "I didn't mean it that way."
Hancock raised his brow.
"I actually uh.." MacCready stuttered. "I kinda find you like… like really, really attractive."
Hancock's eyes lit up.
"I just… My memory's a little foggy."
Hancock grinned. "I'm not surprised. You drank like a fish last night," he chuckled. "But no, we didn't have sex. Didn't think it would be right."
"Well that's good," MacCready replied. "I would have wanted to remember it." He smirked.
Hancock smiled and wrapped his arm around MacCready. "How do you feel?"
"Horrible, honestly. Got a splitting headache and I feel like last night's mirelurk cakes are about to make a reappearance."
"Stay right here," Hancock left. After a few minutes, he returned carrying a soft looking pillow, a warm blanket, and a medium sized bag.
"What's all that?" MacCready asked.
"The best cure for a hangover." He placed the pillow at one end of the couch and instructed MacCready to lie down. He covered him with the blanket and kneeled next to him, opening the bag, out of which he pulled a stimpack, a hard-to-find bottle of club soda, and a stack of comic books. "I'm gonna stick you, alright?"
MacCready nodded. After using the stimpack, he tucked the blanket around him and kissed his head. He sat the club soda on the table, along with the stack of comic books. "Drinking this will help your little tummy," he said, indicating the soda. "Just relax for a while. I got you some comic books to entertain yourself while I'm gone. Mayoral duties, you know?"
"Yeah," MacCready responded.
"I'll have Fahrenheit bring you some breakfast in a little bit," he caressed MacCready's hair gently. "And I'll be back to check on you soon."
"Thanks so much, Hancock," MacCready said.
"It's nothing, RJ. And please, call me John," he grinned. "Now let me know if there's anything else you need to make you feel better."
"There is one thing."
"Really? What's that?" Hancock was confused. He'd gone to Doctor Amari and asked the best way to deal with a hangover. He thought he'd done everything he could.
"I think a kiss would make me feel a lot better," he smirked. Hancock smiled sweetly. He bent down and gently kissed MacCready's soft, warm lips.
"All better?" Hancock asked sweetly.
"Almost…" he replied, grinning. He kissed him again, more passionately this time.
"I've gotta go now, sunshine. I'll be back soon, I promise," he whispered before planting another kiss on MacCready's lips. "And don't you worry about those Gunners. The lady's husband found out. He doesn't blame you. But the Gunners… oh boy are they gonna get it."
MacCready smiled a genuine, toothy smile. "Thanks for everything, John."
"You got it babe. Now rest up for me. I'll be back soon."