Authors Notes:

'May We All' - Florida Georgia Line

So this is my spin on John Hancock's story. We get the basics, but I'm here to fill that in and give you the slow burn between our favorite Zombie King and our Female Sole Survivor from 'And She Continued'.

This version should be way better because the Sole Survivors story is so laid in stone and varied, all we get from John is a bit of background.

I'm going to have so. Much. Fun.

Also Mayor McDonough doesn't have an official name I can find, Guy seems to be the assumed title. I'm going with that. If it's wrong let me know so I can fix it.

I feel as though a lot of Hancock's dualism stems from a bad childhood and a sensitive soul. I feel like his dad was typical politician - pretty outside, ugly inside- and also where the prejudice against ghouls and synths would have stemmed. I mean, for McDonough to banish all ghouls and it be a believable character act (enough for John to buy it) it couldn't have come from nowhere.

I felt fear. They were screaming and yelling again. Mom and Dad. It happened a lot. Guy pulled me off my bed, his big brown eyes were watery as he whispered for me to get into our closet. We huddled down by the shoes and toys, shutting the doors as quietly as we could.

"I'm scared." I whined.

He said nothing. I admired him, my brave older brother. His sandy brown hair looked darker in the reflection of the water peeking through our floorboards. The soft lapping of the water whispered at the edges of our cabin. The noise was at odds with our life. I wanted to dive beneath the waters, let the silence take everything away.

I sniffled, wiping my arm across my nose, pushing curly hair out of my eyes with the clumsy hands of a 6 year old. I reached for Guy's hand as the shouting in the next room intensified. He slapped me away with an angry look.

"Shut up or you'll get us in trouble."

I stopped sobbing but I couldn't stop the tears. I wished I could have been brave like Guy. He wasn't crying at all. The sound of a sharp crack, a muffled crash, and Mom shrieking made us freeze. Guy's arms wrapped around me in fear and protection as the solid, heavy thud of Dad's boots came down the hall. Mom was screaming; crying. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. Guy clutched me tighter as the footsteps neared our door. His eyes met mine; he shook his head slowly in warning.

No sounds.

We could see the silhouette of dad through the wood planks. He was tall, muscular. If the room had been lit his hair would have gleamed a deep auburn, grey lacing around his temples. His eyes were as blue as mine, he kept his facial hair well groomed. He was, in every sense of the word, a man made to look the part of salesman. And that's what he did; he sold our city to other communities. Sold the idea of what we could do for those not as well off, offered protection, increased revenue, assistance form the Minute Men.

But now he was shrouded in darkness, his face lit harshly by the light playing off the water. He looked like a monster, he looked like the man he truly was. I shrank against Guy as Dad's boots shuffled and moved. Guy relaxed a little as the sound passed by the closet. We both jumped in alarm as the door to our parents room slammed closed. Something fell off the wall. The sound of glass shattering, Mom's quiet cries of pain - pain so much deeper than physical ails, after all, stimpaks could heal a multitude of wounds- mingled with the calm lapping of the water. I could feel Guy shaking me and I became aware of my body again.

"Stop cryin!" He hissed, "Dad'll find us. Stop-"

Our parents bedroom door burst back open,smacking against the wall violently. Guy placed a hand over my mouth and nose to quiet me. His eyes were wide in terror as they pleaded with me. I struggled against him, panicking.

I can't breathe! But my young body couldn't match Guy's strength and determination at three years older.

I could hear Dads boots coming back towards us, Mom smothering her pained gasps with words.

"Patrick, Patrick please-"

My lungs burned.

"Martha, you shut your whore mouth or I'll slap the teeth outta your head." I could almost taste the cruelty in his tone. "I'm the husband, I'm the head of household. I have the power here, I'm in charge. You don't tell me what to do you fucking cow!"

I felt light headed, the edges of my vision going dark.

The door to the closet rattled, then shook. Something boomed from beyond the doors. Vaguely I could see light coming in, everything kind of glowed. I felt my body jostling around, pressure and then nothing as Guy floated away into the light.

It looked so peaceful, even if Guys face was screwed up and he was reaching for me. Even as I fell to the ground. Darkness came over me.

"Guy!" I growled, peeling my tato stained shirt off, I grimaced at the sticky fragrant juices stuck to my skin and hair.

He screamed in a joyous, mocking laugh before running off into the water with the other twelve year old boys. I watched bitterly from my place on the front porch.

"Are you ready?" Momma's voice was soft and sweet as she took a seat beside me, basket of freshly washed clothes between us.

I rolled my eyes, arms crossing. "I hate folding. Why do I have to do it?"

She smiled, patient as ever. Her eyes were dark, her hair the color of gold. I felt my heart clench at her black eye and poorly healed broken arm. Stimpacs could heal faster, but if the bone wasn't set before it would heal improperly. I didn't notice Dad coming back home last night, but he must have. She was getting quieter now when they fought. I wondered if that meant she stopped feeling the pain.

"Why does Guy get to go play?" I pouted, brushing a stray curl from my forehead.

"Did Guy steal the key to the Mayors office?"

"Well, no bu-"

"Did Guy sneak into the Dug Out?" She interrupted, her voice a little more acidic.

I shouldn't have gone into the bar but Jimmy had stolen Clive's baseball. I frowned.

"No! But Mom-"

"Did Guy protest for longer recess by not doing school work?"

I sighed heavily, making Mom smile. It was a weak smile, sad and pale. Every year she seemed to fade a little more. I felt tears welling up in my eyes.

"Mom?"

"Yes baby?"

"Why is dad so mean?"

Her hands stopped moving, the pants she had been folding crumpled in her lap. She looked away, to her oldest son splashing in the water with his friends, beyond to the Green wall that kept the small community sheltered.

"You know what's beyond the wall?"

I was confused. Dad had taken me out a few times to neighboring settlements, he liked to build connections with other cities. He said it helped our economy, boosted our trade. I didn't know that much, I just knew we always had to dress nice, we always had to smile and be kind.

"It's scary." I answered finally. "There are things out there that would kill us."

She nodded, "That's why we live here. Where I know you're safe. But your dad, he sees enemies everywhere."

"Like the ghouls and synths?" Mom nodded, "Even at home?" My face screwed up in thought.

Mom nodded again, thoughtfully, "Especially at home. If people knew what it was like he'd be in trouble."

"Then why don't we tell someone?" I picked up a towel.

"Because I made a promise, and I would have nowhere to go with no way to support you boys. I've been married to your dad my whole life. And he's not a bad man. He's just... stressed out. It's hard to be 'on' all day for everyone, having people watch and judge your every move." She smiled in a tired way, "He needs his freedom too."

I frowned, "But what about your freedom? What about Guy and me?"

"Guy and I." She corrected, her eyes wrinkling at the edges as she pinched my stomach. "What am I going to do with such a stubborn little boy?"

I squealed, wriggling.

"Go play you heathen!" She smiled.

I hopped off the chair, splashing into the water after Guy, worries forgotten as I struggled through the water.

"John!" The yell was as familiar to me now as the golden blond hair on my head.

I stopped playing with the scarred man, looking over my shoulder.

"Yeah Dad?"

He strode up to me, grabbing my shoulder and pulling me away. I winced, dropping the toy car and pliers I had been holding.

"Hey now, calm down. He wasn't hurting anything." The gentleman put a hand out to placate my father.

Dad snapped back as though the man had cut him "Don't touch me you filthy ghoul." The venom in his voice stunned me.

"But Dad-" His hand shot out lightening quick, cutting off my protest.

I stumbled back from the impact of his slap, his fingers digging into my shoulder kept me from falling.

"Ghouls are filthy vermin, scourge of the wastes. You," he jabbed a finger in the Ghoul's direction, "are everything wrong with the world today. You represent everything wrong with what the world used to be." Dad turned to me, "You never know when one will go feral. We'd be better rounding them all up and shooting them. A mercy kill really. If I ever, ever catch you hanging around another Ghoul I will beat you like I've never beaten you before. Am I understood?"

I nodded, my hand covering my swollen eye, tears seeping from my clenched lids. I heard the faint grind of dirt and gravel, I rotated my vision to see Guy. He peered at us from where he had hidden around the corner, his eyes wide as he looked from Dad to the Ghoul, the pliers he had been using were clenched in his hands. He looked down at the tool, I could almost hear the gears in his head working.

"Guy!" Dad shouted, "We're leaving. Now"

Dad dragged me along, not bothering to see if Guy followed, but I saw his face change from shock and sorrow to hard understanding. I saw the moment my brother stopped being his own man and started emulating my father. I had known Guy had craved Father's attention, wanted the man to be proud of him. I could tell he was leaning that way when his playful pranks stopped being harmless and started hurting, when his new girlfriend had bruises on her arms after a fight with him. I felt my brother slip further away as a coldness frosted his features. Guy refused to acknowledge the ghoul as he walked by, spitefully kicking one of the myriad of tools laying around, pocketing the one he had been holding.

I watched as the ghoul tried to hide his tears, the way his face crumpled as the crowd around him didn't move to help, some even murmuring in agreement with my father. I wanted to yell, I wanted to scream but my self preservation kept me from doing so. The ghoul met my gaze, I shook my head slightly, tears filling my vision once again. Something I couldn't place inside of me broke a little.

"If I have to yell again-!"

I rolled my eyes at the unfinished threat, putting the book back on the case I had constructed under the dock. I ran my fingers over the covers for a minute, my collection had been growing thanks to my lock picking skills and unfettered access to Dad's office in the stands.

"JOHN!"

I crawled over the beams and made my way around the purifying plant, hiding from obvious view until I was sure I wouldn't draw attention to my safe haven. I knew that if Dad had found out where my hiding place was he'd destroy everything and beat the shit out of me for doing it. Over the years, as Guy became more and more subdued, more like Dad, more compliant, I became the opposite. Guy was already involved in working his way up the political ladder. I hated everything the pseudo-democracy stood for; it's dirty politicians throwing their weight around, the constant racism and socialism - as though people who had it harder were worth less somehow. I saw how money hid a multitude of sins; chem addiction, poor integrity, immoral behavior.

I kicked a tin can before looking up, Dad's face was nearly purple with rage. His eyes were screwed up, the vein in his forehead was pulsating. My steps slowed unconsciously. He grew even angrier. I hoped he'd pop a vein and die right there. His suit was immaculate, his fingernails clean. His boots were missing, traded for a beautiful pair of leather spats. His hair hadn't changed much in color and even though I was in my mid-teens he had barely any wrinkles to show for the passage of time. A few crows feet and slightly deeper smile lines to make him look warmer to the people he seduced into partnership.

How lucky are we to see this side of him. I dug my nails into my palms.

"Get. Here. Now!" He growled through clenched teeth.

I obeyed, wincing as his hand shot out and wrapped around my neck as soon as I was within reach. His fingers pressed into the tendons, making me feel hollow and on fire and weak all at once.

"D-dad, you're choking me!" I panted, my fingers scrambling to loosen his grip.

He dragged me into the house, throwing me to the floor where I landed sprawled out. The door slammed behind me, leaving me to nurse my splinters and scuffed palms in the dark. I had hit my chin, biting my tongue hard. I tasted blood.

"W-What is this?" I backed away as I heard him approach.

"You've been stealing again."

"Are..." I hesitated, "are you okay? You seem..."

"Am I okay?" His hands flew into the air, "my wife is a ghoul fucking whore, my oldest son is a coward and you... you're a lying, pathetic thief."

"Where's Mom?" I couldn't keep the panic from my voice.

"Mom's busy." He growled low. "Answer me. Are you stealing?"

"No!" I lied. "What would I steal in this shitty town?!" I threw my arms up in exasperation.

"Drugs."

I stopped short, shock gut-punching me. "Y-you really think I'd steal drugs?"

Dad leaned forward, his fingers steepled before his face. "I think drugs are getting into Diamond City somehow. I think we have a serious problem. I think a fifteen year old shit head like you would know something about it."

I shook my head. "I just read."

Dad snorted, rolling his eyes. "Of course you do. Can't even rebel right, you fuck up."

I bristled, "What do you want from me? What did I ever do to make you hate me this much?!"

"I never wanted you." Was his simple response. It cut me deep nevertheless. "Or your brother. And now I'm stuck here raising you. I had plans, and I'm stuck in this shit town. I could convince the devil to buy a heater and I'm wasting that talent on scum like ghouls, pathetic filthy savages barely able to put two coherent sentences together." He rubbed the bridge of his nose as he leaned back in his chair. "But you can help me make it better." He paused, as though I'd disagree with him. "Do this right and you could make me proud of you, not regret staying here with your mother." He paused, leaning forward again. "I want you to find out where the drugs are coming from."

I didn't dare say no.