So sorry this took forever to get up! I've had the worst case of writer's block and I just moved back to college (and I've had to handle nonsense with classes and blah blah blah.)
This chapter is shorter, but I feel like it's really been holding me up so I'm going to go ahead and give it to you guys. Next update will be better, I promise!
As soon as her eyes fluttered open, Rose scrambled to sit up. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her foggy vision, and whipped her head around in confusion. Another moment passed before she remembered where she was. She exhaled, flopping back down on the bed and staring up at the ceiling of Hancock's bedroom with a smile. Last night was just so... normal.
Just a night at the bar with a friend, getting a little drunk and having a good time. Sure, it was in an old subway station with a ghoul and two hundred year old beer, but that was the way things were now.
She pushed herself up and swung her legs over the bed to stand, her usual frown settling back into her expression. As nice as it was, Rose needed to get back to reality. She'd gotten more caps off of Bobbi than she expected, even if it hadn't been with the most orthodox methods. It was time for her to move on to Diamond City and find the detective some caravaners told her about. She stretched and picked up her bag, securing it on her back before exiting the room. Through the doorway on the other side of the spiral staircase, she spotted Hancock sitting on a couch. His feet were propped up on a coffee table littered with chems and his face was buried in a ragged book.
Rose debated making her way down the staircase without another word and never looking back. It would be the easiest move, and she'd already gotten what she needed out of Goodneighbor. Hancock was the mayor, anyway, so he was probably thanking people for doing his dirty work all the time. It was doubtful she'd be anything more than another name on a list of decent mercs. Then again, Rose had no idea what she could be getting herself into on the path to finding Shaun, so having a friend if she needed a favor wouldn't hurt.
Hancock's head jerked up when Rose knocked on the doorframe.
"Morning, Vaultie," he said, smiling when he saw her. "Sleep okay?"
"Yeah, thanks. And thanks for letting me crash here."
He waved one hand dismissively before refocusing on the book. "I owed you one."
She gave him a curious look and crossed the room, plopping down on the couch opposite Hancock.
"I thought that's what the drinks were for."
Hancock leaned forward to toss the old book onto the coffee table, scattering the mess of chems, and looked up to meet her eyes. He noticed again -just as he had at the Rail the night before- the way her presence filled a room, like she was exactly where she belonged even though she'd never even sat on that couch before.
"It's not just that. After last night, you got me feeling a little guilty," he admitted as he adjusted his tricorn.
"Why? You didn't do anything wrong," she said, confused. He shook his head.
"Well," he began, "it was no mistake you heard about the job with Bobbi. I got my guys to mention it around you so you'd go check it out. I already knew what the deal was, what shit she was trying to pull. I just needed someone to get the job done for me, and you seemed like the right one for it."
Rose said nothing, but didn't avert her now-stony gaze from Hancock.
"I knew if I hadn't stepped in, you would've taken out Finn yourself that day you got here. Figured you wouldn't hesitate to take care of Bobbi too, if needed. That..." he paused, and scratched the back of his neck, looking uncomfortable, "that was kinda shitty to use you like that."
Rose sat back on the couch, arms crossed and a slight frown on her face. He couldn't quite read her expression, but still she stayed quiet so he kept rambling.
"Been like that a lot lately. It's starting to feel dictatorial. I spend my time pulling strings like some kind of tyrant."
He sat forward and shuffled through some Jet canisters until he found an unused one. He took a hit and with a deep breath his body released tension Rose hadn't quite noticed before. The little red inhaler clattered back onto the coffee table as he let it go.
"I need to take a walk. Need to get a grip on what really matters," he continued, his words a little more loose than before. He swept a hand across the air above him as though the words appeared there. "Living free."
Rose raised an eyebrow, studying the ghoul carefully. Hancock didn't really need to tell her that he'd set her up, but he did anyway. She respected that, and she respected him. From what little time she'd spent in Goodneighbor, Rose could tell that he had a nice little system set up here with some pretty loyal citizens. Drugged-up and reckless as he might've appeared, he was still smart and calculating. The more she considered everything he'd told her and everything she'd seen, the more Hancock could be boiled down to one adjective in Rose's mind: useful. She spoke before she could talk herself out of it.
"You could come with me."
Brief surprise followed by a look of contemplation overtook Hancock's face. He rubbed his chin.
"You're not mad?" He asked, suspicious.
"Not really," Rose sighed as she smoothed her wild curls.
"You look mad."
She smirked. "I always look mad."
Hancock chuckled but still looked unconvinced.
"The politics of it all doesn't change that I needed the money," she insisted. "And I don't have time to be bothered by shit like that."
Rose didn't exactly appreciate being used, but she figured in a town like Goodneighbor that it wasn't anything personal. She wasn't lying, either. Hancock seemed like someone who could help her survive out there, so she didn't have time to hold grudges. Plus, she couldn't deny it to herself; she'd had a good time with him the night before and knew even just the company would be nice. The wasteland wasn't just unforgiving. It was lonely.
Hancock nodded in understanding. "Cutthroat all the way around, huh?"
"You could call it that," she said with a shrug. "Is that a yes?"
Hancock knew what he needed to say. He'd been hitting the chems a little harder than usual lately and even with Fahrenheit covering for him, he'd gotten a little behind on business. There was word than Sinjin and Marowski were getting bored with their territory and no doubt itching for more. Just yesterday some of his Watch shot a synth who'd replaced poor Sammy. Things had been worse in Goodneighbor, sure, but they'd certainly been better too. The right answer for his town was clear as day.
"Yeah," he finally said. "Yeah. You seem like the right kind of trouble."
Rose leaned against the cool brick wall that housed Daisy's shop. Back at the Old State House, she and Hancock agreed to meet there after an hour so he could, as he said, get his and Goodneighbor's shit together. She almost just hung around, but the daggers that appeared in Fahrenheit's eyes when Hancock told her he was leaving made it clear it was best to wait elsewhere. She wanted to check out Kill or Be Killed anyway, so she spent a bit of time talking with the assaultron behind the counter and haggling over a few weapons.
She slid the brass knuckles that she bought down over her battered fingers. The purple and yellow blooms across her fist reminded her of the paint stains that never seemed to vanish from her hands before the war. When Rose was pregnant, Nate liked to joke that Shaun was going to come out with colorful hands himself. Her fist clenched around the weapon and she forced out a breath as she heard footsteps approach.
"Ready to head out?" Hancock asked, now standing beside her. A worn leather pack hung on his shoulders and he clutched the butt of a double barrel shotgun in one hand.
Rose nodded and raised her arm to tap in a few commands on her Pip-Boy. She turned toward the gate out of Goodneighbor, Hancock by her side.
"What's with the knuckles? You gonna haze me?" He asked, nodding down at her fist.
"Not if I don't have to," she said, earning a laugh from Hancock. She raised her hand in his direction to show him the rainbow of bruises. "I actually punched this... dog, or something like that, in the head. It attacked me when I was sleeping so I wasn't exactly throwing my finest swings. I figured this would help if it happened again."
"Ouch. Probably a mongrel. That what got you on your eye?"
"Yeah," Rose told him, and ghosted her fingertips along the bottom of the long gash stretching from above her eyebrow down to her cheek. It was finally scabbing over and her vision had cleared completely the day before. The scar would be ugly, but at least she could still see.
"Damn. Rough luck," he said, pausing as they reached the edge of the town. "Where are we headed anyway, Vaultie? Guess I should've asked sooner."
"Diamond City," Rose replied as the gate swung shut behind them. Hancock cursed, spurring a look of confusion from Rose.
"They're not big fans of ghouls in Diamond City," he sighed, "but they don't give me too much trouble about getting in. Perks of being a mayor. Still, the locals ain't the nicest."
She paused, grabbing his arm as he strolled past her. Hancock turned and was struck by the concern in her eyes. It wasn't pity, really, but thinly veiled anger. He almost worried she was going to punch him.
"Are you sure you want to go?" Rose asked, not relinquishing her grip on his sleeve. "I didn't know that was a thing. I can go alone and come back for you, if you want."
Her expression softened slightly as she spoke and Hancock was taken aback.
"I... yeah. Yeah, it's no big deal," he said, giving her an odd look. "Thanks for asking."
Rose held his arm a moment more and studied him, as though she was searching for sincerity. She let go and continued her march forward.
They spoke little after that, aside from Hancock's occasional suggestion on what alleys to take or avoid. There was heavier tension in the air than usual. Both Rose and Hancock half-hoped something would attack at each corner they turned, because neither really knew how the other could hold their ground in the wasteland. They'd already agreed to travel together, sure, but whether or not it would be worth it was up in the air.