Hancock woke to the sounds of gentle snoring and a thin, delicate hand clutching the bare skin of his hip. His eyes snapped open, confused. He hadn't shared a bed with anyone in years. He wasn't in his bed though, he was stretched out on the sofa and the woman in his arms wasn't there for anything other than comfort and protection. He thought back over the events of the evening and one thing stuck out to him, bothering him even more in the light of day than it had last night. How can she not have a name?

He looked down at the profile of the face pressed into his chest. Her chin was raised a little and that combined with the morning light was just enough to let him see past some of the layers of dirt on her. Her neck was a mess of bruising around a deep scar that seemed to extend all the way around her frail neck. Horrified, he realized she must have had some kind of collar fastened tightly around her neck. Like she was some kind of animal. He had seen some terrible things in his day, but this was without a doubt the worst. His arms tightened protectively around her.

"Maggie, no! Be careful!" She was talking in her sleep, her brow furrowed in concern. She squeezed him closer, but he knew she was seeing someone else in her dream. Who was Maggie? He thought she was calming back down, but then she started kicking him away, frantically calling out the name of a girl that wasn't there.

He shook her shoulders gently, afraid of hurting her, but equally afraid of her hurting herself if he didn't intervene.

Her eyes popped open and she froze, staring into his face blankly. He could see the moment that the night's events came back to her, because she smiled broadly.

"John… You're real."

He laughed, bringing one hand up so he could stroke her cheek with his thumb.

"Last I checked." He winked and was rewarded with a surprisingly child-like giggle for someone who had scars like hers on their neck.

"I just can't believe this is real," she said, eyes wide with wonder. "I never thought I would…"

He waited in silence for a moment, giving her a moment to collect herself before he asked her the question on his tongue.

"Doll, who's Maggie?"

"How do you know that name?" Her eyes filled with fear as she tried to stand up, almost falling off the sofa in her panic.

"It's okay. You were sayin' it in your sleep." He kept his voice as calm as possible, reaching out to catch her before she could fall. She relaxed slightly at his words, taking in gulps of fresh air. He helped her sit up and once they were both upright and facing each other on the sofa, she seemed ready to talk.

"Maggie is, was, like a sister to me. She's the only person, other than you, that has ever been kind to me. She's the reason I was able to escape, but now… I don't even know if she's alive."

Tears worked their way down her face, leaving moist trails in their wake.

"We'll get her back." He reached for her hands, holding them between both of his as he looked into her eyes. "You're going to have to tell me who has her, though."

"You don't know what you're getting yourself into. Besides, I don't even know how to get back there!" Her voice broke in panic at the realization.

"We'll find a way, just not right this second. You're not in any shape to be makin' grand rescue attempts. I got connections, I'll ask 'round and see what I can dig up."

"Just be careful."

"Always, sister." He squeezed her hands, hoping he could keep all the promises that kept coming to his lips.

She had food in her stomach and access to all the water she could ever need. It was so hard to pace herself, but Hancock reminded her it would only make her sick if she over did it. Now that she had eaten, she was starting to realize just how bad she looked... and smelled. She couldn't remember ever having the luxury of caring about her appearance. Hancock must have seen the way she was looking at her grimey hands, because he stood up suddenly, telling her he would be back in a moment.

When he returned, he was carrying two very large pots by the handles that were filled with sloshing water and he had a towel draped over his shoulder.

"I was thinkin' you might be interested in a bath."

She smiled so hugely that it pulled some of her stitches uncomfortably, but she didn't even care. It was almost unreal, the difference a few days could make. Had someone told her last week that she would soon have not only a full belly, but a smile, too, she wouldn't have believed them. It hadn't seemed even remotely feasible. If only Maggie was here with me. That was the only problem she could find with her new situation. She was going back for her, though. She just needed to get her strength back.

Hancock bustled around, making preparations, refusing her offers of help with a casual wave of his hand. Eventually he had heated and hauled the water to an old, but clean, tub. While he lead her to it, he told her about the cistern on the roof that collected rain water, which he had boiled to make it safe for her to bathe with.

"Thank you so much for going to all this trouble. I don't know how I will ever repay you for everything you've done for me." She tried to look him in the eyes, but she ended up staring at her hands instead. She had rarely been in a position to be thankful for someone's help and she was finding herself uncomfortable with having nothing to offer in return. "I will find a way to pay you back for this. I promise."

"That's not why I'm helping you, doll."

"Then why?" Her eyes finally found his and she could tell by the look on his scarred face that he was debating how best to answer her. He narrowed his eyes at her and then seemed to come to a conclusion, clearing his throat before answering.

"I've spent too much of my life watchin' terrible things happen to innocent people, not doing a damn thing to stop it. I promised myself years ago I'd never be that man again."

She had heard people refer to the pitch black eyes of ghouls as soulless before, ugly, but she didn't understand how someone could think that. The eyes of the ghoul in front of her were filled with such pain, sadness and determination. Their intensity was beautiful. Moving. She reached up, cupping one of his rough cheeks in her dirty hand. His eyes fluttered shut for just a moment as he leaned into the touch, his hand coming up behind hers.

It was so strange for her, to enjoy the touch of a man. Every other one that had touched her had been… Don't let them ruin this moment. She pushed the memories away, focusing solely on the man before her. No matter what he said, she would find a way to repay his kindness.

His eyes opened, meeting hers with an electricity that stole her breath. He smiled slowly, taking her hand from his cheek, but keeping it in his much warmer one for just a moment.

"You should hop in before the water gets cold."

"I don't think I'll be hopping anywhere. I hurt all over." She reluctantly released his hand. She wanted to ask him for his help, but she didn't want to make him uncomfortable. After everything she had been through, she had long since lost any shame about being naked in front of others, but she had gotten the feeling last night that she had made him nervous.

"Do you need help?" How did he know that?

"If you don't mind. I'm just so fucking sore."

"I don't mind."

He reached forward and slowly unbuttoned her flannel shirt. She slipped it off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. He helped her into the tub and was immediately glad he had offered her his help. She would have fallen if he hadn't been there to keep her steady. She gasped as she sat down, the water sloshing as she got settled.

He grabbed a washcloth, dunking it in the water and then lathering it with soap before passing it to her.

"I can't remember ever having a real bath." Her quiet voice sounded confused as she began to scrub the dirt off her hands.

"How long were you held captive?" The question left his lips before he could even think about it.

"I'm not sure. It seemed like forever… but it was probably only four or five months."

"Where were you before that?"

"I don't really know. I don't remember much before that."

Hancock was getting the feeling that her captivity was only the tip of the iceberg.

"Start at the beginnin', doll. What's the first thing you remember?" He took the forgotten wash cloth from her unresisting hands, dunking it in the water and then rubbing more soap into it.

"The first thing I remember is being really cold." As she spoke, he washed her back, gently scrubbing away the layers of filth from her abused skin, revealing the thin lines of healed injuries. "I was in some kind of… chamber. When I climbed out, I saw that there were two rows of the things. I peered into each of them, but… all the other people in them were dead."

She paused, but he smiled encouragingly and indicated she should continue with a nod of his head.

"The only things alive were some radroaches and I got out of there as fast as I could. I used a Pip-Boy that was lying on the floor to open the door, but then I just left it where I had found it and got the hell out of there. I took this giant elevator up to the surface and it was a relief to be out of that metal grave, but nothing looked familiar. I didn't know who I was or what had happened to me. It's like I was born in that cold, underground hell… surrounded by nothing but death." Her eyes didn't see him as she spoke, seeing the past, her voice oddly monotone for something so emotional. He just kept washing her back, moving to her shoulders and then arms as she spoke, oblivious to his ministrations. "I wandered around, confused, for maybe a few hours until I finally ran into someone, but they slapped a collar around my neck and told me if I ran it would blow my head off. I wasn't willing to take that risk… so… that was it. They made me do… well, awful things. The only good thing about that place was Maggie. She was so young. Just a kid, really. And sweet, even in the middle of all that hell." She met his eyes then, coming back to the present with sigh. His heart ached for them both. "She saved me, John. I have to go back and save her, too. If it's not too late."

Slavers. Fucking slavers. He had heard whispers about some being in the area, but nothing concrete, until now. He couldn't sit back while shit like this was happening. He'd have to put his ear to the ground and figure out where the hell they were holed up.

It made sense now. All of it. The marks on her neck, her abused state, even the lack of a name all added up. No matter how crazy her story was, he knew in his heart it was the truth. All she knew of this world was fucking confusion and misery. No wonder she hadn't wanted him to leave her side. Besides this Maggie person, no one had ever done a damn thing for her. He was even more determined to help than before.

He reached for the cup Fahrenheit kept next to the tub, using it to pour water over her closely cropped hair while tears streamed down her face. He gently soaped her scalp, running his fingers along the slope of her scalp, massaging her with deft fingers. Tears were still streaming down her face, but his attentions seemed to be relaxing her and he continued for quite a bit after she was technically clean.

After he poured more water over her head he handed her a fresh cloth, the first was too dirty by this point to be of any use, and the soap so she could clean the rest of herself. He stayed crouched by the tub as she finished scrubbing her skin clean. He now got why being naked in front of him didn't bother her at all. Who knew what kind of atrocities had been committed to her by those god damn slavers. I'll fucking kill them all.

Once she was clean and the water was too dirty to stay in, he helped her out, wrapping her in a towel and leading her back to his room. He had a large double bed with an actual frame and thought she could use it to get a decent nap. He let her rifle through his clothes and she picked another long flannel, and nothing else, before climbing under the covers of his bed. She seemed anxious at the idea of him leaving her alone, so he laid down next to her, promising to stay until she was fast asleep. He didn't want to leave her at all, truth be told, but he needed to start looking for information on where the slavers were operating from.

She cuddled up next to him, laying her head on his chest. He wrapped his arm around her and without thinking about it, acting on instinct alone, he placed a kiss on the top of her head. Apparently she didn't mind, because she just snuggled in closer. It wasn't long before she had dozed off, her gentle snore bringing a smile to his face. It had been so fucking long since he had held anyone else like this and he had almost convinced himself that he didn't need to. That being loved as mayor was enough. But now, with this strange woman asleep in his arms, he realized how terribly lonely he had been. He had been lying to himself.

He sighed and reluctantly began extricating himself from her sleeping form. What am I going to do when she finally leaves?

Hancock eased the bedroom door shut behind him and went to find his right hand. Fahrenheit was outside the Old State House and her eyes focused on him as soon as he stepped into the bright sun. He lifted his chin in greeting as they moved closer to the wall surrounding his town, where their conversation wouldn't be overheard.

"What's up, Boss? Everyone's talkin' about some mystery chick you've been holed up with." Fahrenheit had an eyebrow raised in his direction with her arms crossed over the shiny metal of her armor, hip cocked. She was pure attitude, which was one of the things he loved most about her, not that he would ever tell her that. He valued his life too much.

"It's not like that, Fahr."

He filled her in on the events of the previous evening, asking her to keep an ear out for any information.

"Also, she's understandably nervous, so if you could keep the watch from stomping around the place…"

"I gotcha, Boss. We'll keep a low profile until she gets her bearings." She reached into her pocket, pulling out her pack of cigarettes. She offered one to him, passing him her flip lighter after she was done with it. They leaned against the brick wall of the State House in companionable silence as they smoked. He snuffed the cigarette out on the bricks when he was finished, putting it in his pocket before nodding farewell to Fahrenheit and walking across the way to Daisy's.

"How's the Commonwealth's favorite mayor on this fine day?" Daisy asked as she walked around the counter to greet him. They sat down at the small table in the front of her store at his indication, leaning over it so they could talk quietly.

"I assume the serious look on you face has to do with the mystery woman that came a knockin' last night?"

"Yes. She's been through hell and I think she could use a friend."

"Smoothskins aren't usually interested in-"

"She's not like that." He cut her off, not to be rude, but because he was anxious to get back. He didn't want her to wake up alone.

"Oh, really? Well, color me impressed. What's the girl's story?"

By the time he finished filling her in, Daisy's jaw was practically on the floor.

"You weren't kiddin', John. If anyone needs a friend, it's her. I'll get Kleo to keep an eye on the shop and I'll be right up, okay?"

He nodded, standing up and turning to head back to the State House.

"You're a good man, John. She's lucky she found herself on your doorstep."

He closed his eyes, glad he had his back turned to her. Good… right.

"See ya up there, Daisy." He sighed, walking away quickly. No matter how many people he helped, it would never make up for the ones he'd been too much of a coward to stand up for.

Waking up in a soft, comfortable bed was a new experience. A pleasant one, of course, but an adjustment nonetheless. Luckily, Hancock was there next to her, reading a book by the light coming in through the window's cracked curtains.

He smiled down at her when he saw her opened eyes and she returned it happily. He tucked a scrap of paper in between the pages of the book to mark his page and then placed it in the top drawer of the nightstand.

"How'd ya sleep, sunshine?"

"Well, thank you. What were you reading?" She reached one hand out for his, happy that he readily intertwined his fingers with hers. She couldn't explain it, but she always felt better when they were touching in some way.

"Outlander. It's about a woman that accidentally travels through time."

"How does one 'accidentally' travel through time?" She asked with a raised eyebrow, thinking the idea of time travel was pretty farfetched, but that it probably made for a good story.

"I don't know… guess you'll have to read it sometime and find out." He suggested with a smile before continuing, "Look, I spoke with a good friend of mine. I thought ya might wanna know more than one person in town. I know you'll like her. If ya wanna meet her, that's great. If not, no big deal. I'm not tryin' to push ya into anything that makes ya uncomfortable."

"If you say she's a friend, then I trust your judgement." And she did. Maybe she should be more cautious, but she'd already placed her life in his hands and there was no going back.

They got out of bed and he managed to find her some pants that weren't a mile too long. She slipped into them before Hancock led her out to meet his friend. She was nervous, but as soon as his friend came into sight, she relaxed considerably.

"Hi, sugar. My name's Daisy and it's a pleasure." The ghoul smiled kindly at her and she returned it without hesitation, knowing instantly that Hancock hadn't steered her wrong.