It was another week and a half before Nora was able to get away from her busy lifestyle as General of the Minutemen, unofficial leader of the settlers of Sanctuary Hills, and member of the Railroad. She arrived somewhat disheveled after having a run-in with a raider camp on the way to Goodneighbor, but otherwise in a cheerful and helpful mood. Sturges was with her looking equally battered, yet eager to begin work on the bottling machine.

"We could use some of the stuff from the Boston Brewery. We'd need some way to cart all of those heavy barrels out, though. It might be best to jerry-rig an old wagon so that we can haul it without a Brahmin." Nora suggested as they sat in Hancock's lounge area where he typically spoke with guests and business partners. She took a large swig of the purified water and Sturgis took over the conversation.

"It'll be easy enough to build a water purifier, but I'm gonna need some very specific things for this machine." He laid out a sheet of notebook paper onto which had been drawn a rough construction plan. It had an extensive list of the necessary components and it was very clear that a lot more work would be going into this project than she had initially thought.

"I've already notified The Slog of a huge order for Tarberries." Nora informed them. "Wiseman was thrilled."

"I'd imagined he would be." Hancock had settled himself into the settee and put his booted feet up on the low coffee table. "Not many people out there who'd do business with a ghoul." He looked pointedly at Bet, and then Nora.

"Well, times are always changin'" Sturges commented lightly.

"Is there another farm out there that specifically grows tatos as well?" Bet inquired of Nora, who seemed to be the most knowledgeable about settlements and their crops. "Perhaps even Melons or Mutfruit?"

Nora thought for a moment. "Well, I do know of a few places that only grow tatos and mutfruit, but most people don't bother growing only melons. We could use Greygarden for the mutfruit and I can set up a greenhouse for melons at Sanctuary Hills."

"Thanks, I'll need a great deal of fruit and tatos, but there is also the matter of harvesting wild plants for flavor variety." She told her. She was so happy to finally be on the same page with her, although it did seem a bit like Nora was simply impressed Bet hadn't shot herself in the face yet. Whenever she looked at the hardened General, she saw everything she could ever want to be. It was almost bittersweet, because she knew she could never attain the level of skill Nora boasted, but she wanted so badly to impress her. Her eyes darted over in Hancock's direction, but she looked away before he noticed. Maybe she wanted to impress more than just Nora.

She was forced back into the conversation by Nora addressing her directly. "Then you'd want hubflower, aster, fever blossom and carrot flower." She said. "Hubflower is kind of grape-ish, aster is a bit like very sweet chamomile tea, fever blossom has a sort of blueberry taste and carrot flower is slightly like an orange. Oh, and you could always hit up traders up for Nuka-Cola or Vim as a mixer."

It all sounded pretty good to her. It was just the hardest part would be scavenging enough stuff to kick-start all of it. So they all agreed that they would split it up. Hancock and Bet were to find as many milk bottles, screw-on caps, and metal barrels as they could possibly bring back. Sturges and Nora decided that, since they were the best with mechanical contraptions, they would gather the parts for the bottler. Nora brought everything for the water purifier, so that would be the first thing to be built. They already knew that the best place to situate the purifier would be down in the tunnels that Benny had dug in her ill-fated attempt to steal from Hancock. That was to ensure that their system didn't have to rely on rainwater.

"Now," Sturges leaned further back into his seat. "I'm not sayin' this will be somethin' spectacular, but it all sounds pretty solid at this point." With that said, the group discussed a few less significant details about their plans such as the fact that a small cart would be needed to haul the heavier objects and where both groups intended to scavenge for useful junk. Once every possible point was covered, Sturges and Nora left to go prepare for their excursion.

Once their other two friends had left to complete their half of the duties, Hancock took Bet to Daisy's to stock up on scrap to build the cart they'd need. Several armfuls of wood scraps and a box of nails later, Hancock was working on building the body of the cart, and in the meantime she was working on an ancient set of wheels connected by a rusted axel.

The project took them a day and a half of nearly non-stop work. Bet felt sure she'd be picking splinters and trying to scrub out rust stains from her hands for weeks. Nonetheless, she was proud of what they had accomplished. She beamed at her friend, who was grinning as he knocked in the very last nail. "Alright, grab the other side." He told her. Together, they flipped the cart over. "Just have to attach the wheels and then we'll be all set."

"Wonderful! I'm going to go back to the warehouse and pack us some supplies." She left while he bent down to affix the axel and wheels to the underside of the cart. She stuffed everything she could fit into their bags; three days rations, a gallon of water, extra bullets for her pistol, and a lot of extra shells for his shotgun.

They had two destinations in mind to gather the bottles, barrels, and crates; Gwinnett Brewery and Beantown Brewery. Luckily, Nora had cleared the place of the raiders who had moved in only a month ago. "Does Nora have a hand in everything?" Bet mused on their way out of town.

"Pretty much, now that I think about it. That's how it is when you're the General of the Minutemen, though. She likes to take care of things personally." He reached a hand deep into the bowls of a broken milk machine and retrieved several empty bottles that he dropped into his bag.

A huge burlap sack was slung over her shoulder as well. It gave her the effective appearance of a very dirty Santa Claus. The sack, however, was full of glass bottles instead of presents. A few feet away, Hancock was resolutely attempting to lift a metal recycling barrel, which had previously been used to dispose of deformed beer bottles. "Come on," He grunted under his breath. He was able to move it on his own, but it blocked his line of sight.

"Need help?" She helped by guiding him out the door of the brewery. Together, they managed to move it into the cart, although it groaned and creaked loudly under the weight. They now had two decent-sized metal barrels, three full sacks of milk bottles, plus an equal amount of unused screw-on caps to seal the bottles. Milk bottle caps were useless as currency, so they were perfect.

It had been several long days on the road; collecting milk bottles, milk caps, and the Boston Brewery had been their final stop on the journey. The only trick now was to make it back home in one piece. A chilly breeze blew around them and rustled the few remaining leaves on the trees.

It brought with it a strange smell, though. Bet took in a deeper breath; what was that strikingly familiar scent? Then it hit her all at once. "We've got to go!" She secured the tailgate of the wagon as quickly as she could and ran to grab her side of the hitching bars.

The smell was that of burning wood and it either meant a forest fire or raiders. The problem was that the cart was currently weighed down with nearly four hundred pounds of valuable scrap. It would also have to be moved at a much more rapid pace than she'd initially figured in. She wasn't sure that their makeshift cart would withstand rough treatment while being so heavily weighed down.

Now, the smartest thing would have been to hide the loot in the trees, investigate the potential danger, and then flee with the loot. "Do you know if there is a settlement near here?" She asked Hancock as they lugged the wagon behind a suitable bush.

"Can't remember, sorry." He began to cover the wagon with fallen branches and other debris.

Once their loot was suitably hidden, they prowled the hilly, forested area carefully. They came to a particularly burned out area that was still smoking, but it appeared to be nothing alarming and wasn't spreading. As they moved farther away from the Brewery, however, the smell of burning wood became stronger and they heard sounds like the sharp cracking of lightning. "Gunshots." She whispered to him. He nodded solemnly and kept a steady hand on his shotgun.

Then a scream broke through the air, high and desperate. "PLEASE! NO! NOT MY BABY!" Gruff laughter followed the terrorized woman's scream.

Hancock scowled and in the low, patterned light of the forest, a murderous growl left his throat. His obsidian eyes glinted with hellfire that promised deadly retribution to any who crossed him. His lithe, thin body tensed like a predator preparing to pounce. Nothing remained of the easy-going, eternally cheerful junkie she had come to know over the past two weeks. Something inside her chest made a great leap and, with a start, she noticed her heart was pounding hard and fast. "We gotta do somethin'." His voice rumbled deep and low in his throat as more gunshots, wails, and sobs reached their ears.

"We could run out guns blazin' hoping like hell we don't get shot." She grinned at him. Within a second, his face became recklessly eager and he reached down into his coat. She sucked in a breath when she realized it was a homemade grenade of some sort. He lobbed it in the raiders' direction.

Here was her first real test of worth. If she could survive this minor skirmish, then she could survive anything the Commonwealth threw her way. On Hancock's mark, they ran out of the brush ready to kill. It was so hard to see past the intense smoke from the bomb and the burning house, but she could make out a couple of children being cornered by a raider with blue paint smeared across his dirty mug. She took careful aim, ignoring the stinging of smoke in her eyes, and fired. He went down like a sack of potatoes. Another raider, this time a female, was running around with a huge torch in hand. Her intent was to set the other house on fire. It took three shots, but she caught the bitch in the leg. She didn't notice that the woman had seen her and was taking aim with a pipe pistol of her own until a searing pain shot through her shoulder.

She gritted her teeth hard. It was practically unbearable, but she fought through it when she heard Hancock exchanging fire with the three remaining raiders. He laughed in exhilaration. "Next shot better kill me!" His bravery steeled her resolve. She dodged some random shots sent her way. A bullet kicked up dirt dangerously near her left foot as she ran to the fallen log he had taken cover behind. She dove behind it and landed on her bad shoulder. She ignored the pain to take a shot over the log at a burly, heavily tanned raider and caught him square in the arm. He howled with pain, at least until Hancock let off a round into his face.

"Are you alright?" She gasped when she noticed blood seeping out from under his hat. A bullet had grazed the side of his head, but he assured her that it was a minor wound. It only appeared to be a bad injury because head wounds tend to bleed a great deal.

"Yeah, you?" He eyed her shoulder as he yanked her back down behind the log to narrowly avoid a rain of bullets.

"Fine." She said through clenched teeth. She took aim with her modified .10 mm, and then hurriedly ducked to avoid the counterfire. "Two left, one's wounded, I think." They took aim again and Hancock managed to get the wounded raider, while the remaining guy decided it was time to make a break for it. "Maybe we should let him go." She said uncertainly as they watched the cowardly bandit flee.

"So he can join up with a different gang and hurt more innocents? No, thanks." Hancock leaped out of their hiding spot to chase the guy down. He easily overtook the man, tackled and pinned him.

In the meantime, Bet made her way through the fading smoke to search the two houses for more survivors. She ran first into the smoldering hut, but found only a single body. With difficulty, she dragged the dead man out and laid him face-up on the grass. She fought to ignore the panic that welled up like a spring within her at the possibility of finding more bodies. In the second house, she found a frightened woman clutching a bloody bundle of cloth. She was mumbling and her eyes were wide, yet unseeing. "Ma'am?" She said quietly. She knew instinctively that any attempt to part the woman from her dead infant would result in hysterics.

"You saved us." A voice came from behind her. A tall young man stepped out of the shadow. He was nearly as frightened as the older woman, but appeared to have his wits about him. "You and that ghoul."

"Yeah," She tried to keep her own feelings of grief and fear out of her voice. "I guess we did. Is she your mom?" She pointed to the woman.

"Yeah, it's…it's just me and my mom now." His expression hardened into volatile anger. He slammed a fist into the wall of the hut, which caused it to shake. "They…they snatched her out of mom's hands and bashed my baby sister's head in!"

Bet honestly didn't know what to say. Nothing really prepares a person to talk to someone who just watched their infant sibling be murdered in cold blood. She mostly just stood there afraid to do anything. He braced himself against the wall, but his feet could seemingly no longer hold him and he slid to the floor. He covered his face with his hands and his body shook with quiet sobs. His fingernails clawed at the flesh of his forehead like he was trying to rip the torturous images of his sister's death out of his very skull.

Off in the distance, she heard Hancock's shotgun go off. "I…I know it's not much of a consolation," She stumbled over the words. "but we got them all."

"No, you didn't." His brown eyes held such anguish for someone so young. "You will never get them all. There'll be new ones next week or next month. It'll never stop."

"That's why we're here." Hancock had come up behind her so silently that his voice made her jump. "We hurt whoever needs hurtin' and we help whoever needs helping."

There wasn't much they could do to help the woman. The son was doing his best with consoling her by bringing her water and food from the garden. Their crops had, other than being a bit trampled, suffered little damage and the well still worked, so they wouldn't starve or thirst to death. Hancock grabbed a shovel he spotted lying on the ground. He approached the man's body, but was stopped by the son.

Pale, and shivering, but his face set with determination, he gently took the shovel. "It should be me." He said quietly. He met their eyes for the first time. "Thank you, really, for everything."

They left the solemn farm boy and his poor, crazed mother not long after putting out the fire that the raiders had started in the first hut. It was a quiet walk back to their scavenged supplies. "Let me see that shoulder." Her companion demanded. He carefully peeled the fabric of her t-shirt away from the wound. Blood had run the length of her arm and dried in the battle, but fresh bubbled up as he disturbed the injury. "Real lucky," He noted after a thorough inspection. "It went clean through and it's superficial; only skin and fat."

"What about you?" She almost went to touch the blood on his face, but stopped herself.

He grinned and showed her an empty stimpack. "All fixed up, good as new." She attempted to smile back, but a pang of guilt bit at her. How could she smile knowing what had just happened? How could she be happy with the knowledge that there was an nth degree of suffering in the world? In fact, how dare she? "Hey, you good?" She couldn't look at him now. A wave of emotion had just rolled over her. It was like she was finally realizing what had happened and it was swallowing her. She swallowed hard and fast to force the tears away. Hancock said something else, but it sounded like a muffled, dark echo.

She felt him loop his arm around her shoulders and she dropped back into reality as if an anchor had been chained to her ankles. She dared to look up and his ruined face was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. His smile could have outshone the sun. His eyes shone like black glass that had captured moonbeams in their depths. "That was rough back there." His voice, rough as pock-marked stone, gently unwound the piano wire of panic within her mind. "You took it like a champ, though."

She laughed bitterly. "Yeah, I'm sure almost having a complete break-down just now was very impressive."

He shrugged. "You handled it."

She plucked at a piece of dry grass. "I guess so."

He snorted and elbowed her gently. "You know what the problem is?" She stared up at him blankly for a moment before he rolled his eyes dramatically and poked her playfully in the stomach. "Ya need to figure out how to have some confidence in yourself. A bit of confidence goes a long way in a fight, trust me." He settled his hands back in his lap and leaned his back up against the tree behind them. "It gets better." The smirk had faded from his face. "It's always hard, but it does get better."

She looked out into the distance and watched threadlike strands of cloud slowly roll across the sun. Did he mean it would get easier to hurt and kill people or did he mean it would get easier to watch people get hurt and killed? Either way, she wasn't so sure. She didn't feel like she was adjusting very well to life outside the vault. "I don't think we should travel together anymore." She locked her eyes on the swaying branches of a tree in the distance. "I'm going to get you killed."

He lightly pushed her over. "Don't be like that."

She frowned at him. "Don't be like what?"

"Don't be stupid." His eyes crinkled as he beamed at her with an expression of mirth. His eyes traveled back to her hurt shoulder, which she had been trying terribly hard to ignore, and his moment of pride in her was dampened by worry. "You'll have a hard time hauling the scrap back with that shoulder." He rummaged around in their medkit to find gauze and bandages. He rinsed the area with water and bound it up for her.

She squeezed her eyes shut and a quiet moan of pain escaped her clamped jaw when he tugged the bandage tight. "I'll be fine. I just hope it doesn't get infected before we get back home." When the pain had eased back into a milder throb, she opened her eyes to find he had a mile-wide grin. "What?"

"You called Goodneighbor home. You thinkin' about stayin' for good?" She knew that his flippant tone was a farce; her answer meant a great deal to him. It was a subtle hint that he cared, at least a little bit, about her and her heart warmed right up like asphalt in July.

She chose to give in to the urge to be a bit sarcastic. "Nope, I'm taking all this shit back to the vault." She poked him in the chest. "Of course I'm gonna stay!" She stood up and gently rolled her shoulder. The pain made her wince, but it was bearable. Only time could really tell if she could handle the constant strain of hauling the wagon. She caught him eyeing her with concern. "Hancock, you…you've been amazing to me." She reached out to gently touch his arm. "Everyone in my vault was terrified to leave, even if they were willing to trade, but you showed me how much potential this world as if we only give it a chance." She slid her hand down to lightly grasp his and hoped like hell he didn't jerk away. He didn't move a muscle, but his entire demeanor showed he was listening hard to what she had to say and carefully considering every word. "I love what you've built there and what it means to so many people; a home, safety, a place to be who you really are and fuck the consequences." He bared his teeth in a giant, silly grin. "I'd like to think I've grown a bit as a person because you brought me to Goodneighbor." She flexed her hands; the skin of her palms and fingertips were starting to toughen up. "You're right, I was just being stupid. I can practically feel myself getting stronger. It hasn't even been a month, but already I'm so much better with a gun and even when it just comes to dealing with people…" She ran her fingers through her short hair. "I want to show you how grateful I am. If you let me, I want to help around town. I want to help you help people who need it."

He played with the lighter he'd produced from somewhere on his person and tiny bursts of flame shot up from the top like the fire was dancing in his hand. She couldn't help staring because nearly every movement he made was hypnotic. "There are lots of people who'd take an insult to getting' handouts they didn't ask for." His response was calm, but she could sense the tension there.

She was treading on thin ice and she knew it. "I'm not saying Goodneighbor isn't wonderful. I'm saying we can make it…cleaner?" She now knew that saying what she needed to say was going to prove so much more difficult a task than it had seemed to be in her head. "Hancock, it kills me seeing people having to sleep on mattresses outside in the cold. Once the still is up and running, I want to clean up the rest of the warehouses and make one of them into a drifter hotel. I'll make sure there's a small stock of Addictol and spare ammo, just in case anyone's low or suffering through withdrawal." She broke off in order to check if he was starting to get angry; nope, still just playing with the lighter and keeping a lid on his emotions. Damn, he was so hard to read. She dared to start up again before her slight pause grew into an awkward silence. "It's not a handout, honest! I'll…find them odd jobs to do for me and I'll pay them by giving them room and board. I know I'm not so good with much else besides cleaning shit, cooking shit, and brewing booze, but" She lifted her head up and straightened her back. Only three months ago she would never have even started this conversation and that thought gave her just enough confidence to explain herself properly. "Right now, I'll settle for being allowed to clean up the enormous mounds of garbage in the alleys." In order to make light of the suddenly intense mood, she added a snarky comment. "If it makes you feel better, we can pack all the garbage up and go dump it right in front of Diamond City."

To her surprise, that actually got him laughing. "Could ya imagine the looks on their faces?" He snorted loudly and grinned at her. "Alright, doll. You've convinced me, but what are you planning to do with the last warehouse?"

She beamed up at him; both relieved that he'd taken her speech exactly the way she'd meant it. A thought occurred to her; if she could trade words and banter with the infamous ghoul mayor of a rough-and-tumble town like Goodneighbor, maybe she shouldn't worry so much about talking to other people. "I'm going to ask all the pre-War ghouls in town if they'd like to make a few extra caps by teaching classes there. It'll just be the basics; reading, writing, arithmetic, geography, survival skills…how to tell a chameleon Deathclaw apart from a bush…simple stuff. It's all a no-judgment-allowed type of system where kids and adults can have access to an education." She had spent a great deal of the past month thinking it all over. "Unlike Diamond City, everyone will be treated equally. After all, not everyone had the privilege of getting an education when they were growing up. It's hard to pay attention to learning your letters when you're worried about starving to death or getting shot."

He wasn't saying 'no' yet or even looking at her askance, and that was more than enough for hope to spring up within her chest like hubflowers in May. "How are ya gonna do it?" Again, his tone was neutral and she was under the firm belief that he was withholding judgment until he'd really heard her out on her plans…and she had a lot of plans.

She rocked back and forth on the heels of her feet. "I'll pay them 10 caps per lesson per day. If they don't have a proper home or food, I'll give them a space in the other warehouse. They're always free to come and go and lessons will be scheduled at their discretion. I'm going to have to sit in on their classes for the first week, though, just to make sure they're right for the job. If they're not, I'll find something else for them to do." She continued on explaining her plans to rescue old library books, globs, pens, pencils, and paper to stock the school up.

She watched him with bated breath. Was that approval in his eyes or was it just wishful thinking on her part? "Sounds like you've gotten awfully ambitious here recently, Sugar Bomb." Amusement and surprise, in equal measure, highlighted his words. "Did ya go and grow a backbone when I wasn't lookin'?" He teased her, but she knew it was all in good fun.

She grinned back. "See? I told you I wasn't a lost cause." Her heart and stomach were doing gymnastics because the way he was looking at her now would once have made her blush from head to foot, but she had much better control over herself now. She'd actually impressed him…him...the man who could take on a whole camp full of raiders by his lonesome…the man who could make a crowd hang on his every word. It was hard to remember that he was a just a regular guy sometimes, even though she was pretty sure that beneath the charismatic façade he was almost as insecure as she was. She didn't want to fall into the trap of hero worship, but…damn, his opinion was still important to her. "I'll be toting a mini-gun and mowing down super mutants in your name in no time."

He chuckled, but his eyes were serious. "Forget me, how about in your own name?"

"I could never forget you." It was hardly more than a whisper, but he heard it. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Hancock." She told him in a stronger voice. "I…I know we've not really known each other for very long, but I was…well, I've never had a lot of friends." Her resolve finally broke and she lowered her eyes. "I'm sorry, maybe I shouldn't say something like that."

He moved his hand to cup her cheek. "Hey, you and I got no problems. I like the way you operate, sister. You started out slow, but now you've got a bit of momentum and you're headed somewhere. I've got no problem followin' ya and watchin' your back. Ya got nothin' to worry about with me coverin' ya." Somehow, the small gesture was immensely reassuring and she relaxed a little bit. "I said we're pals and that ain't gonna change just because ya can't help gettin' a bit mushy every once in a while." He tipped her chin up to make her look at him. "Let me tell ya somethin', babe. I didn't start out as the confident and sexy zombie king that ya see today." He smirked down at her, but she was lost in the acrid bite of the scent of cigarettes and the chalky smell of berry mentats that lingered on his breath. "Ten years ago, I wandered into Goodneighbor with a smooth set of skin and an appetite for any chems I could get my hands on. I was young and I'd go on these…wild tears…doing any and all that I could buy or find. It took a while, but I finally found the motherload; an experimental radiation drug and only one hit. It did exactly what I knew it would, but the high was so worth it."

She tilted her head to the side questioningly. "You knew it would turn you into a ghoul?" She frowned at him suspiciously. "You're making it sound almost like…like you wanted to be a ghoul."

He appeared honestly taken aback that she'd caught on to that and was wrong-footed by it. "Heh, really didn't expect ya to see through that."

She studied him for a brief moment. "You don't have to tell me why you are the way you are, Hancock. If you're uncomfortable telling me why you became a ghoul, then you don't have to." She reached out for his hand and squeezed it tight. "Also, I know you haven't taken anything at all since we left Goodneighbor and you've barely lit up more than a couple of cigarettes. Is there something wrong? Again, you don't have to tell me, but I'm asking because I'm concerned."

Once more, she'd taken him unawares by her uncanny perception; he'd thought he was being sneaky. "Guess ya caught me tryin' to be a gentleman, sugar bomb. You can't…ya know…so, I didn't think it'd be fair to ya if I took a few chem-" He cut himself off when he saw that she had reached into her pocket and pulled out a mentats tin.

She pressed the tin into the hand she held and folded his fingers over it. "Don't you ever try to be anyone except yourself around me, Hancock. I'd never want you to think you'd have to change your habits just to suit me. It's a nice thought, but I really don't mind if you take the occasional chem break."

Hancock rubbed his thumb thoughtfully over the tin. "How many drugs do ya know for sure that you're allergic to?" His question seemed to be pulled right out of thin air, so she stammered out that she'd only knew about her allergy to the medical chems.

She realized that she was still holding his hand and immediately let go. "The doctor said that I should try to stay away from them all, just in case, because they had no practical way of testing my allergy. Actually, I've only known that I'm allergic for a couple of years now. Bobby and I were..." She searched for the right words. "We were having a discussion and…well…I tripped. I fell down the stairs, broke my leg in two places and fractured my wrist. They tried to give me stimpacks to fix me up, but I broke out and swelled up like a bloated Brahmin."

His eyes narrowed doubtfully. "A discussion, huh? Was Bobby Deluca the guy who dropped you like a hot tato?" She bit her lip and nodded. "In my experience, doll, discussions don't usually end with broken bones. I'm going to ask ya somethin' personal an' I want ya to be honest with me." He warned her gravely. "Did that boy ever hit ya?"

She bit her lip hard and tasted blood. Memories of shouting rang in her ears; insults and accusations that used to make her heart twist. Other memories came with those, but she forced the worst of them back behind a mental wall. "Not…often…only when he hadn't had a fix in a while, I swear!" She finally confessed.

Hancock had to take a step back to try to compose himself. Of course, it made so much more sense now; her deeply ingrained insecurities, her dependent nature…even the fact that she'd mentioned never having many friends before and how much better she'd gotten now that she was out of the damn vault. Maybe he'd have seen it sooner if he'd popped a mentat or two and actually took the time to think it over. He growled out of frustration and the mentat tin in his hand creaked in protest as his grip tightened.

"Hancock?" Her voice pulled him out of his murderous thoughts. "D-don't worry about it, okay? It doesn't matter anymore. We still need to go to back to 81 to get the yeast, but I don't want you to think that you have to save me or anything. We probably won't even see him if we go straight to my grandparents…Hancock?"

It wasn't the first time he'd had to hide his feelings behind a forced smile. "Right, doll…you're right." In the back of his mind, John Hancock felt the strong urge to protect his friend. He was a protective and territorial man by nature; no one messed with him or his without repercussions. He was pretty damn glad she'd told him the truth before they got to the vault because now he'd make damn sure that slimeball didn't get within forty fucking feet of her. "Thanks for the mentats, babe." He made a show of picking one out and dropping it in his mouth, but as soon as she looked away he spat it back out. He wanted to be in his right mind for this.

Exhausted from sleep deprivation and jittery from the anxiety that had settled like a stone in her stomach, Bet smiled wearily when a familiar sight came into view up ahead; the black maw of earth that opened up into Vault 81. Her shoulder ached badly and had been bleeding on and off, but the weakness in her knees and the dread in her heart had nothing to do with that. She chanced a glance at Hancock and caught a fleeting expression of anger before it was quickly hidden. She hoped like hell they wouldn't run into Bobby because she knew Hancock would tear him a new ass, no matter how much her ghoul friend had tried to act like he wouldn't. She wasn't entirely convinced Hancock wouldn't kill him outright. She wasn't a vindictive person and she really had loved Bobby before he got into jet, so she really hoped they could get in and out without running into him. She couldn't exactly bring herself to regret sharing a bit of herself with Hancock, though, because he'd shared a bit of himself, too.

The familiar smell of recycled oxygen met her nose and the guards stared at them both like they were covered in mauve polka dots. "Whoa, check who's back!" One of them called out. "I totally thought you'd die out there, Betty."

She grimaced to herself; she'd almost forgotten what it was like to be called by her full name again. It made her feel old. "Are you disappointed that I didn't?" She grinned at him and the guard did a double take.

"What the hell…" He muttered to himself. Betty Stillwater had never talked back. "Who are you and what did you do with the real Betty?" She only laughed and pulled her ghoul companion down the hall to the elevator.

When she said they'd go straight to her grandparents, she'd meant it. She didn't stop for conversations with anyone or even to say 'how do you do'. She marched right down to the commissary where her grandmother was standing behind the bar cleaning a glass. "Gram?" The old woman nearly dropped the glass out of shock.

"Lance! Lance! Get on over here and hug your granddaughter!" She shouted and caught Bet up in a rib-cracking hug. The three of them embraced and basked in the moment of reunion before either of her family members noticed Hancock's silent presence.

They nodded respectfully at him and he returned it. "Hey, babe, you catch up with the family. I'm gonna take a smoke break outside." The lie rolled easily off his tongue. He was actually going to scope out the vault for the Deluca boy and scare the ever-loving shit out of him. He knew that Bobby Deluca wasn't exactly a boy, per se, but anyone who acted as childishly as Bobby didn't deserve to be called a man. He'd taken it upon himself to make sure that Bet would never be bothered by that asshole again.

The only problem was he'd forgotten how labyrinthine these vaults could be and he'd had to get directions three times before he'd even made it through the rest of the vault. It had been half an hour, way longer than any smoke break should be, but he still hadn't found the asshole. He'd even checked the maintenance room twice. He sighed and was about to give up when he saw Bobby-mother-fucking-Deluca dragging Bet by the wrist back to the maintenance room. Hancock followed like a shadow, but hung back for a bit until Bobby had Bet cornered in the far part of the room.

"No." Her tone was firm, but she looked terrified. "No, Bobby. He's my friend."

Bobby scoffed. "You don't have friends." He slammed her wrist against the wall to pin her there. "You only have me."

She scowled at him, despite the fact that there were tears in her eyes, and snapped at him. "You didn't want me anymore, remember?" She aimed a kick at his shin, but he just grabbed her leg and positioned himself between her legs. Hancock didn't catch what Deluca said, but he couldn't find it in him to care much because he was on him in half a second.

He pried Deluca's fingers from Bet's wrist and forced him down with his arm locked behind his back. "Ya move and I'll break it." He snarled in Bobby's ear.

"Hancock!" Bet shrieked and ran at him. "No! It's fine! Don't hurt him!" She begged desperately. If Hancock hurt anyone, even if it was Bobby Deluca in her defense, the overseer might give in to her xenophobia and hurt him in retaliation. She couldn't bear the thought of Hancock getting hurt- or worse- because of her!

Hancock was absolutely furious; he'd been seething for hours about this. "So, ya like hittin' people?" He forced Bobby's face into the gravel that lined the floor. "How about ya hit me, huh? Whaddya say, asshole? No guns, no knives or brass knuckles…just you an' me."

"Please, Hancock, just-"

He threw a look over his shoulder at Bet. "Ya said he broke your wrist and your leg, right? What else did he do to ya, doll?" He demanded. She looked petrified, but she shook her head. "C'mon, babe." He said in a softer tone. "I'm not gonna kill him, I swear. I'm just gonna beat him six ways to Sunday." He glared down at Bobby.

Tears flowed down her cheeks. "Hancock, that really was the worst of it. He only gave me slapped me around a few times before that and that's the truth!" She thought he was letting Bobby up, but instead he jerked Deluca to his feet and started patting him down. Satisfied that his opponent didn't have any weapons, Hancock stepped back.

"Hit me, ya goddamn woman-beater." He invited Bobby with a smirk that was so cold it could have frozen even the bravest of hearts. Bobby swayed a little on his feet; his face was scratched up by the gravel and he was glaring stonily back at Hancock. There was fear on his face, as well, but Hancock could tell he was suffering from withdrawal, which was fueling his rage. He ran at Hancock, who side-stepped him easily and snagged his raised arm to slam him face-first into the wall.

Bobby grunted in pain. "Ya hurt 'er, now it's my turn to hurt you." Hancock growled in his ear. He tightened his strong grip and felt the bones bend in a little under the pressure. Bobby whined in pain and tried to wriggle out of the hold, but Hancock hardly had to try to keep him right where he wanted him. There was an audible snap as he casually broke Deluca's wrist and the mayor savored the sound like a fine wine. Bobby screamed in agony while Hancock stepped back with a feral grin. Bobby fell back to the floor clutching his broken wrist. Hancock's booted foot came to rest atop Deluca's leg. "One last thing…" He stomped down hard and Bobby had a new thing to blubber about. He placed his foot on the guy's chest and leaned down. "Next time ya go anywhere near her and I hear about it, I will kill ya." His eyes flicked up to check on Bet, who was still frozen like a statue. "Anyone who knows me knows I love killin' assholes…unfortunately, you qualify as an asshole. Luckily, Bet's an absolute sweetheart and she's been begging me not to kill ya." He chuckled sadistically. "I dunno why, but like I said…you're lucky." He spun on his boot heel and smiled warmly at Bet as if he hadn't just beaten a man half to death. "Ya ready to go?"

Her eyes were wide and frightened. "We're not just going to leave him, are we?!" She asked frantically.

Hancock shrugged. "S'up to you. We could just tell the guards where he is on our way out…you know…to give him time to stew before they patch 'im up."

Bet was silent the entire time up until they were about to leave. She quietly let guards know the gist of what had happened. She made sure to get Hancock out of there before anyone showed up to question them further. She stopped talking again after that and Hancock got the distinct feeling she wasn't happy with him. They'd been back on the road for hours, but he couldn't stand the cold-shoulder treatment any longer. "Hey, sugar bomb-"

"I don't feel like talking right now." She said politely, but there was an edge to her voice that hurt him a little.

"I'm sorry-"

Her laugh was acerbic. "No, you're not." She rounded on him and dropped the rope handle of the wagon. "I asked you to stop, Hancock, but you ignored me. That's why I'm pissed, okay? You could have stopped after you got him off me, but you had to make a damn point or some shit and-" She sighed and she felt a tiny bit guilty because she knew he was only trying to help her in his own way. "I was terrified that they'd hear him screaming, find you beating him up, and end up shooting you!" She was tearing up because she was angry and ready to curl into a sobbing mess at the same time. "If you died trying to do something stupid to protect me…" She grabbed his shoulders and tried to shake some sense into his thick head. "What the hell is wrong with you, anyway? Why do you care so much about it?"

He crossed his arms and his thin mouth became only a line. "No one gets to treat ya like that. You don't deserve it. Why do I care? Because you're one hell of a friend and I take care of my friends." He broke a little when she started to sniffle and turned her face away from him. "Babe, you're the sweetest thing alive. I don't wanna see anyone take that spark outta your eyes. I can't see how anyone with a functioning brain could throw ya away like he did." He wanted to say more, but he bit his tongue to keep it from slipping out. It was too soon.

She swallowed hard to force the tears away. She smiled wanly at him. "Okay…I'm still not happy you risked your neck like that, but as long as it doesn't happen again-"

"That, sugar bomb, depends entirely on him." He interjected with a huff. "I wasn't kiddin' about killin' 'im." He didn't back down at the harsh look she shot him. "I'm serious, anyone messes with ya and they'll have me to answer to."

She grabbed the handle and went back to hauling the scrap. "You're not my bodyguard." She muttered.

He grinned broadly. "Are ya sure? I wouldn't mind guardin' your body…" Her head shot up like she'd been stung and he saw a blush staining her cheeks.

The innuendo wasn't lost on her. "Stop that."

He turned his eyes back to the road ahead. "I have no idea what you're talkin' about, sister."

"Stop being ridiculously charming. It's not fair." She said with an annoyed groan. She hung her head. "You suck."

"No, I lick." He barked a laugh when the blush grew to envelop her entire face. "Are ya still mad?" He asked to test his luck. "By the way, what was he trying to get ya to do before?"

She sighed in defeat and shook her head. Why did he always make her so disconcerted and flustered? She tried to shove away the reason that his light-hearted flirting had affected her so much. She just wasn't ready to deal with that yet. She wasn't ready to confront the reason why his laugh made her heart skip a beat or the reason why his easy confidence made her feel safe at his side. So, she merely gritted her teeth and forced it away before she said something stupid to him. "He wanted me to steal drugs from you." She glared at the ground. "I told him there was no way I could ever do a friend dirty like that." Her unhappy expression hardened into restrained anger. "I'm not a thief."

He hadn't been expecting that and it was admittedly touching. He hadn't been looking for any kind of loyalty or dedication from the newest addition to his little community; only respect. Within the past twenty-four hours, she'd extended a hand of actual friendship to him and even honored that friendship against the wishes of someone she'd been living in fear of for a long time. "Of course you're not." He surprised her with a friendly, one-armed hug. "You're too clumsy for that." He could see she was forcing herself not to laugh even though she smacked at his chest to protest his relentless teasing.

The strained mood passed in the wake of their gentle banter and jokes just as fog is blown away by a strong wind. He realized that, with some coaxing from him, she felt confident enough to open up more and make a few light-hearted jabs of her own. She was funny, but not so much in the way of telling actual jokes. It was more the way she said or reacted to things, but it was less of a self-aware type of humor and more of a unique, slightly nonsensical viewpoint or reasoning that struck him as hilarious. Her sense of humor was a bit dark, which surprised him because it was hard to reconcile his impression of her as 'innocent to a fault' with the same girl who fell into a fit of giggles recounting a story of an extremely fat cat with a tendency to smother rad-rats to death with its fat rolls.

He'd always loved making people laugh and he knew he was funny, but seeing her eyes light up was really something special. He brought out all the stops; every single story he could think of to make her break out in side-splitting laughter. He used every ounce of oratory skill he had, which was pretty decent even without the egregious amount of Mentats he took on a daily basis, and he had her in tears several times before they even hit downtown. He calmed it down a bit because it wasn't exactly wise to make much noise in a semi-enclosed area full of things that'd love to wreck their shit, but it didn't kill the warm feeling in his chest that bloomed whenever she'd glance over and smile with those Cupid's bow lips.

When they were safely back in town, he was reluctant to leave her. He deftly procured a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. "You ever have one of these, sugar bomb?" He asked her and offered one up to her. She stared at it uncertainly, so he stuck it between his lips, cupped his hands around the end, and lit the end with a flick of his lighter. He passed it over to her and watched her intently. "Suck in through the filter…yeah, ya got it." She immediately started coughing hard and he grinned as he slapped her on the back. Her eyes watered and smoke went billowing out of her mouth as she gagged. "It hits everyone like that the first time." He suddenly realized that she'd been coughing for much longer than she should have been. "Babe?"

She held up a finger to request him to give her another moment. "Those…smell…a hell of a lot…better on you than they actually taste." She croaked between hacking coughs. Her throat felt raw like she'd inhaled caustic fumes. She cleared her throat and her coughing spasms finally eased for the most part.

Her comment didn't fly over his head. "You make a habit of sniffin' me?" He couldn't resist teasing her; he loved seeing her cheeks light up like a street sign and break out into stammers. It was adorable. This young woman was nothing like Nora. Nora was an ass-slaying slasher capable of mass destruction who wore the dirt of the Commonwealth like it was a cultured fashion. Bet, despite her adaptability and intelligence, seemed a bit on the fragile side. Still, she did have her merits, Hancock thought as he followed her inside with an eye that traveled a bit lower than was particularly decent.

Bet had never been so happy to see a bed in her entire existence. She hit the top of the last flight, swung up the door, and flopped down on to the mattress of her room with relish. Hancock looked on with amusement as she stripped off her shoes and socks. She massaged her feet and winced as she hit a blister. Scavenging was hard work and they had been on the road for so long that her blisters had blisters. She gulped down a small dose of Radaway with a bit of purified water; the choice between growing a new arm out of her stomach and breaking out in hives was an easy one.

Her stomach made a loud protest. She hadn't even realized how ravenously hungry she was until that moment. "I could go for one of Gram's mutfruit pies." She said dreamily. "Or a huge Brahmin burger."

"I could go for a nice steak." Hancock replied with a grin. "My treat?"

She pretended to be scandalized. "Me? Out for dinner with the notorious Mayor of Goodneighbor, what will people say?"

As it turns out, people didn't give half a fuck who their mayor happened to be out with, which was quite the relief for her. They ran into Hal on the stairs. He was on his way out with a pretty brunette ghoul. He waved briefly before securing an arm around his date's waist and leaving. The bar was sparsely populated; only Magnolia, Charlie, and a handful of ghouls were there. Hancock nodded in acknowledgment as several of the patrons waved. A couple stood up and approached him. "We heard Jack's got a time out." The male ghoul rasped quietly. "Thought ya said to cut 'im some slack on account of what happened to his old lady."

Bet turned her head slightly to look up at her friend. "He put a gun to someone's head." Hancock's expression was dark, but his tone remained firm.

"Yeah, well, any idea when he'll be back?" The female ghoul interrupted.

"I told him he'd do well to stay outta town for a while, so he'll probably be back in a couple of weeks." Hancock's reply did not seem to sit well with the pair.

"What happened to Jack's wife?" She asked. Was this the information that she'd suspected Hancock had been keeping from her?

The couple looked at each other with raised eyebrows. "Thought ya knew, everyone's been talking about it for ages." The lady ghoul said in a surprised tone of voice. She glanced around the nearly empty bar, and then lowered her voice. "Jack and Marcy worked for KL-E-0 and Daisy as scavvers. One day, they're comin' back from a huge haul, ya see, an' they're tired. So they're not exactly payin' attention to the route they take and they run a bit too close to Diamond City. A guard spots 'em and he thinks they're tryin' to sneak in cuz ghouls aren't allowed in that hoity-toity place. Well, he makes a big deal over it, an' stops them from goin' anywhere until a few of his buddies show up. Jack and Marcy get fed up an' try to just leave. They get about twenty feet before shots ring out." She made a scoffing noise. "'Warning shots', supposedly, one of which hits Marcy square in the back of the head. She's dead instantly, of course." She sighed heavily. "Poor Jack, too. Marcy was the only person he had in this world. Nobody did anything, of course. Murderin' a ghoul isn't much worse than killin' an animal these days." She shook her head sadly. "Worst thing is, we heard tell that the piece of shit that did it has been bragging about it recently now that the initial excitement has cooled down."

"You think he might want to go after the guy." Hancock's mouth was set in a hard line.

The female ghoul calmly met his intense gaze. "Would you blame him if he was? The way I see it, he thinks he's got nothin' to lose, so he's gonna try to get that murdering son of a bitch even if it's his last act."

Bet placed her hand on Hancock's shoulder. "Let's help him get his justice."

"Are you insane?" Hancock's jaw dropped. "The whole of Diamond City guard would be out to get you. Hell, they might even attack Goodneighbor!"

"I'm not saying we should go in willy-nilly with guns drawn ready to bust some ass." She replied, slightly miffed that he had assumed she'd take such a reckless course of action. "You mentioned a while ago that there's a new mayor of Diamond City. Maybe, if we bring the situation to her attention, she would bring the hammer down on the murderer."

"I'm sorry to burst your bubble, babe, but that chance is nil to zip." The lady ghoul said bitterly.

"We still have to try." She turned to Hancock. "Surely, she would allow you in to discuss the matter on the grounds that your citizens were harmed within her jurisdiction?"

"Doll, you are still speakin' English, right? Talk to Nora if you wanna use that lawyer lingo." Hancock chuckled.

She knew only a little about Nora, but she did know a little about the woman's pre-War origins. "Wait, Nora was a lawyer?" He nodded. "Why didn't you tell me that before! It's perfect! She'll know how to deal with this. We just have to wait until they get back, and then we can go to Diamond City. She can negotiate with the mayor and-"

"Jeez, doll, exactly how many projects are you planning to take on?" He teased. His eyes twinkled with mirth. "Are ya gonna march for ghoul rights next?"

She straightened to her full height of five feet. "If that is what it takes, then yes." She was invested in making a name for herself in her new hometown and this was just the sort of thing she needed to do to earn people's trust. She wanted to make sure people felt almost as comfortable letting her help them as they did about going to Hancock for help.

Unfortunately, Sturgis and Nora were not due back for another few days. The time spent waiting seemed to drag on despite the fact that she was spending the free time between fixing up her new home and setting up the area designated for her still. She'd had to pay out the ass for a shit-ton of Abraxo cleaner just to get the smell of death out. She tore up the moth-eaten carpets, busted up old drawers for scrap wood, and did general maintenance on the place.

Hancock had not seen her for several days because of the huge amount of mayoral duties that had built up during their time out scavenging. Occasionally, he would look out onto the street and watch her hauling a pack full of cleaner and dish rags back from Daisy's junk shop, along with a couple of buckets filled with purified water. Once all of the assorted paperwork and meetings had been attended to, he decided to go visit.

Walking into the warehouse was a completely different experience than it had been only a short while ago. The smell of decay was gone and replaced by a fresher smell he couldn't quite place. There was not a speck of dust on any surface and all of the broken furniture had either been fixed to the best of her ability or thrown out. The first floor was a completely open space now with the exception of the three large vats and a sack full of milk bottles.

"Is someone there?" He heard Bet call from the upper floor and quick footsteps pounded down the stairs. A poofy head of short curls rounded the corner. "Oh, hi Hancock!" Her voice was light, airy, and sounded much happier than the last time they had spoken. She ran up and caught him around the waist in an enthusiastic hug.

"You're certainly full of energy." He grinned down at her. If anyone had asked him about the frail, unimpressive young woman's chances in the Commonwealth, he would have said she had none. Yet, she had a hidden strength. She'd turned out to be a survivor in the end despite the nearly insurmountable odds against her. The little vaultie was tougher than he could have ever guessed.

She had quite the little set up on the two upper floors of the four-story building. She showed him her office first. She'd painted the walls Vault-Boy blue, cushioned the floor with several rugs, and set up a desk beside three filing cabinets, all of which he'd watched her muscle through the gates of Goodneighbor. Two couches intended for waiting were placed against the wall and were separated by a side table that was populated solely by a sad-looking plant and an ashtray. Even the bashed-in door had been removed and replaced, which he asked about since he didn't remember watching her lug in a new door. "Oh, I asked for a favor from Hal. He didn't mind at all. He's really good with stuff like that. He helped with a lot of the scavenging and cleaning, too." She replied happily. His stomach twisted a little at her tone, though he chose to ignore it.

After the office, she towed him upstairs to show him the room she'd transformed into her bedroom. She had scrubbed the tiny, dirty window clean so that it gave a clear view of the streets of Goodneighbor far below. A black couch sat on the right with two somewhat matching black armchairs angled on each side. A low coffee table was placed a couple of feet away. She had repainted the walls red to cover the stains on the old wallpaper. She had hung several abstract paintings on the walls as well, probably to cover holes that she couldn't fix or other such imperfections. The concrete floor had been covered with a number of decorative rugs. A decently clean bed with a slightly rusty, metal frame was situated in a corner with a clean, comfy pillow and three or four throw blankets. Heathcliff the bear sat in his usual place of honor, while another slightly droopy potted plant had been placed on a bureau at the foot of the bed. "What do you think?" She asked excitedly. "It took a while, but it's done." She chuckled. "Well, except for the giant hole in the floor, that is. That just has to wait until Sturgis and Nora get back with some wooden planks." Just then, there was a loud crash from downstairs. "Speak of the devil!" She exclaimed and rushed downstairs ahead of him to greet her guests.