AN: There's a short Nora/Hancock lemon ahead. If that ain't your thing, feel free to skip ahead to the page break. You won't miss any specific plot details. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to add me to their author's list and author's alert. I appreciate the support.

Chapter 11 - Hunted

Nora awoke automatically; her internal clock told her that it was early. The morning sun that peaked through the boarded up window was grey and hazy. It couldn't be any earlier than sunrise, but Nora wasn't tired. She rubbed at her eyes and stretched beneath the thin flannel-lined sleeping bag. She was comfortably warm and content and couldn't wipe the shit-eating grin off her face if she tried.

She had sex with Hancock. Well, for all intents and purposes, it was close enough to count. And, it was good...no, dammit, it was phenomenal. She turned to the man next to her and rolled onto her side. His back was to her and he was clutching a pillow against his chest and snoring softly. Mayor Hancock the bad ass, take-no-shit, self-turned ghoul looked as content as a kitten with a ball of yarn. Nora couldn't help but snort in amusement.

"Too fuckin' cute." She murmured, mimicking his ghoulish drawl, and then turned to tuck her body against him, but then changed her mind. She wanted to explore, so Nora peeked under the covers to get a better look at Hancock in all his glory.

The most unusual feature about him was that his skin was a patchwork of color and texture. At first, she wondered if his skin ever became too sensitive or too painful. There were a few patches of tan, rough skin on his bicep and his hip that still had fine whips of fair, downy body hair, so it turned out that ghouls and hair-loss wasn't always consistent. Amid the red blistered skin along his triceps and the thick sinewy tendons that stretched along his neck and shoulders, Nora could see the faint marks and scars from previous battles.

She lightly traced her fingers along the side of his abdomen where it looked like a sword or some other type of blade had cut him. The scar was hard and a deep red that looked almost purple. She assumed that the scar was relatively new.

Her eyes took note of how the muscles beneath his mottled skin coiled and tensed at the slightest stimulus. She also noticed the small dimples that peppered his lower back and buttocks and had to bite her fist to keep from laughing loud enough to wake him. Apparently his story about the Goodneighbor citizens mistaking him as a feral was true.

Nora tucked herself against the heat of his back and draped her arm over his waist. He murmured something unintelligible and then rolled onto his back, coughed once, and began snoring again.

She smirked and scooted herself down a bit and lifted up the covers once again. This time, her eyes caught sight of his flaccid manhood and she felt the heat of arousal pool in her stomach. She didn't get a decent look last night, partially because it was dark in the room and her exploration of his body was more based off touch. In the daylight, however, Nora took in the sight gleefully.

He was indeed hairless down there, but the velvety skin that she remembered holding in her hand was remarkably textured as well. He was uncut but Nora didn't find that unusual, Nate was too, but she did notice that Hancock's manhood had stood up well against the ravages of the radiation drug compared to the rest of his body. Aside for a slight divot on the right side of his shaft and another on the underside of his foreskin, he looked as normal as one could expect for a ghoul.

"Either there's a hole in this sleepin' bag, sunshine or you're gettin' a pretty good eyeful." He murmured, his voice thick and rough from sleep.

Nora jumped at the sound of his voice and then set the sleeping bag down. She looked guiltily at Hancock's smug grin but he smiled gently.

"No need to look guilty, sunshine. All you gotta do is ask. I ain't shy."

"I was curious, that's all."

Hancock turned to her and stroked the side of her face with the back of his rough hand. "No harm in being curious, sunshine. Fair's fair. I gotta look at your knockout body in all kinds of ways last night."

Nora thought back to the night before and remembered how she arched into Hancock's touch as he brought her off with his hands. The memory was nearly as arousing as the act was and she bit her lower lip to keep from shuddering.

"You're beautiful, Nora." He murmured and kissed her gently. She could still taste the bitter hops from her beer and the oaky aftertaste from his whisky. Although not ideal, Nora didn't want to stop anything just so she could dig out her toothpaste for a quick freshening up. That would would happen later after they were both spent and tired. Now, Nora wanted Hancock, and she wanted him properly this time.

"John, I want to fuck you." She whispered and kissed his jaw and then nipped at the junction between his ear and his neck.

The growl she heard was animalistic and he pulled her on top of him. "Didn't you have your fill last night?"

Nora shook her head and coyly replied, "I mean, we didn't actually do the deed. I wanna change that."

"You change it all you want, sunshine." He grinned and pulled her down to capture her lips in a searing kiss. His dark eyes pierced hers; they were full of lust and passion. "Take what you want, Nora. I'll give you anything."

She smirked and shivered as his hands ran from her shoulder blades, down her back, and cupped her ass. There was no need for foreplay; after last night, Nora was ready for him. She reached down and felt for his cock expecting to have to work him over for a bit, but she found that the opposite was true. He was thick, hard, and more than ready for her; she teased him by dragging the tip through her slick folds.

He nearly snarled at the feeling and grabbed ahold of her hips trying to force her hips down onto his cock but her hands clamped over his. "No! Let me, John. Please."

He saw the uncertainty in her eyes and he cursed at himself. He was eager, but Nora wasn't ready for dominance, at least not yet.. "Sorry, sunshine. You just feel so fucking good."

"I know. It's just been … a long time since I've done this." She panted and readjusted herself.

Hancock wanted to piece together what she meant by that, but her body on top of his was sufficiently distracting.

This time, his tip was poised at her entrance. All she had to do was lower her weight down and sheath herself on him. "Just let me do this." She said again. "I'll try not to tease. I just —" Words failed her. Partially because her body was demanding that she shut the hell up and just fuck him, but also because this was the final barrier that was between them as a couple that she needed to break.

"Do it, sunshine." His growl turned into a faint whimper.

Nora sank her weight down and her eyes rolled into the back of her head. Of all the sensations in the world, their union transcended the physical; it felt complete. He filled her deliciously and completely. They both moaned: Nora's voice was light and breathy while Hancock's came out as a low, pained groan.

"Fuck, sunshine." He groaned. "You feel fuckin' amazing."

Nora chuckled despite herself. She rocked back and forth atop Hancock. The telltale pressure she felt building in her abdomen was exciting, exquisite, and sorely missed. Clitoral stimulation was always electric and powerful, but the sensations that blossomed during proper intercourse were deeper, complex, and nuanced.

She perched herself forward and began rocking her hips up and down on Hancock's shaft. She rested her forehead against his and then captured his ruined lips with hers. His tongue caressed hers, deepening the kiss, and she followed his lead. His kisses were hungry and borderline aggressive as he nipped at her lips in-between drawing breath.

With every slap of their hips, Nora whimpered and groaned at the sensations building in her stomach. She chased it like she did the night before; one hand grabbed firmly onto Hancock's bicep for leverage while the other caressed her own breast.

Her end was coming too soon, she thought, so she slowed her pace and ran herself along his length from base to tip and then back again. Instead of the rough jerking motions of greedy lust, she rolled her hips towards him every time she sank to his base. Hancock's hands cupped her ass and helped her maintain a steady rhythm while punctuating each slap of their body with a lustful hiss or groan.

"Nora, please." Hancock begged. "You're gonna make me come. Keep goin'."

Her entire body flushed with pleasure at his confession. The way he said it was raw and honest. He was blunt and she loved that he didn't tap-dance around sex with double entendres and vague hints.

Nora redoubled her efforts and resumed the steady pace of her ministrations. With every thrust down, she could feel the tension in her core coil and build.

Hancock's grip was unyielding, but not painful, as he began to thrust upwards to meet her hips. The extra oomph from his efforts pushed Nora over the edge first.

She felt her body free falling; she felt simultaneously weightless and anchored to Hancock's body. She lost herself in the pleasure as it swept her away. Seconds seemed to last minutes, and she wasn't aware of how their moans coalesced to create one voice, nor was she aware of how the heat and the wetness of Hancock's ejaculate was what added a new dimension to her pleasure.

Their bodies stilled and Nora collapsed onto his chest. Her hair was plastered to her forehead by sweat and she shivered from the cold and from the aftershocks of her orgasm.

The ghoul gently rolled onto his side with Nora's body still trembling around him. He loved the violence of a woman's orgasm. He loved how some women could become possessed by the pleasure that they temporarily lost themselves in it. He gave Nora time to come back to Earth, back to him.

When he withdrew himself from her body, he reached over to grab the discarded towel and the bottle of purified water from the night before and gently cleaned up both of their bodies of sweat and cum. Nora mumbled and groaned as he gently wiped his evidence from her folds and thighs. Her body was oversensitive and her nerves were raw. Hancock couldn't help but smirk with pride.

He pulled the sleeping bag up over them both and pulled her into his chest. "You okay, sunshine?"

A lazy, sleepy smile crossed her face and she nodded. "I'm amazing. We're going another round once I wake up again."

His laugh was smoky and he placed a chaste kiss to her forehead. "You'll never hear me complain about that."

"Good." She murmured as she fell asleep.

From his vantage point on the third floor of an abandoned apartment building, he watched two people walk towards the ruins of Bunker Hill. The once famous war memorial had been repurposed into a crude settlement of some sort, but much like the rest of the commonwealth, the settlement was barely hanging on. Shacks dotted the perimeter and the few people that he could see were fighting the dusty land for its meager bounty.

Nothing looked the same as he had remembered it, but apparently this is what life was like after 200 years of nuclear destruction. Life was broken and dirty.

Still, he trained his sights back onto the two people whom he had been tailing. The intel he had been given about them was vague at best. He was told that his quarry would be traveling out of some hovel called Goodneighbor within a fortnight. The informant also told him about the civil unrest that was bubbling beneath the heart of the city. He assumed that his quarry would try to escape the city covertly, and he couldn't stay in the city without drawing too much attention to himself. Instead, he found an overpass that conveniently overlooked the entire city. As long as he stayed out of sight, he could peer down on them. He was like a hawk hunting for field mice: silent and focused. That was four days ago.

Despite his mission, he had never been a patient man. It was a skill he had to acquire from his time in the military. And while he did eventually acquire it, perfecting it was another matter entirely. He had a lot of time to kill before he could move in on his target. In fact, the tongue-in-cheek phrase that his buddies would throw around during their down time of "hurry up and wait" was more apt now than it had ever been.

He could hear the raucous sounds of the city below him. He heard the music, the laughter, and the drunken arguing. He could see how Nora would be drawn to a place like this. Always the extrovert, she thrived at parties and this place seemed to be a non-stop party. He wondered if she called this place home. God, he hoped not.

Still, he never anticipated that they'd sneak out of the city in broad daylight. He wasn't ready. They got the slip on him and disappeared into the cold daylight when he was trying to catch a few moments of sleep.

He thought he'd have to go back to square one, or worse, admit defeat, but fate or just pure dumb luck intervened. Later that night while he was scrounging through the ruins of an old Red Rocket gas station, the sound of muffled voices and the suspect splashing in the harbor led him back on the trail. Thank God for small favors.

She looked almost like her normal self, like Nora Pendleton, his wife and mother of their child. Her cheeks were tinged pink from the cold and she hugged her bare arms around herself to retain what little body heat she had. Dammit, why was she standing outside without a jacket? She'd surely catch her death.

The man with her, if he could call himself a man, draped a woolen grey suit jacket around her shoulders and led her back inside. With that one gesture, he felt the molten heat of jealousy bubble in his gut.

When the duo retreated into the taphouse, he settled himself in for another long night of waiting.

He tried to sleep a little but couldn't. So he recounted the memories of his past. Some jumped to the forefront of his mind faster than others while some never returned to him at all. When it was time to confront Nora, he wanted to be the man she loved, not the one she mourned. But the pieces weren't coming together as smoothly as he would've liked. There were gaps. He was told that memory transfers weren't seamless, especially when they've been transferred from a body that had experienced traumatic brain injury courtesy of a gunshot wound to the head. Still, he tried to remember the man that he once was.

The duo emerged by midday the next morning. They had changed their clothes but looked no worse for wear. And so the hunt was on again.

They stopped in Bunker Hill to drop off the unwieldy burlap bag they had been carrying and switched it out with a pair of old military-issued backpacks. They planned to travel light which meant they still had a long ways to go.

Patience was a hard virtue to follow when he wanted nothing more than to approach her. Would she believe it was him? Would she cry? Would she run away in fear, or perhaps shoot him? The unknowns hurt worse than the dull pain that throbbed in his skull. He massaged his forehead and felt a cold chill course over his skin.

Although her hair was cropped in an odd fashion and she wore a brown bomber jacket over a plaid men's work shirt, she looked healthy and happy. Still, he was so use to seeing her in pantsuits, black, navy, or grey skirts, and modest blouses. Her rough traveling clothes made her look almost masculine. It was a look that didn't suit her.

Her companion, on the other hand, was odd in an entirely different way. Peering through binoculars, he could see that the man's skin was blistered and raw-looking, like the way bacon bubbled on the griddles when he made BLTs for customers. Still he had a countenance about him that went beyond self assured and ventured into 'cocky.' The man seemed arrogant. He slapped Nora's ass playfully and then blamed it on some invisible force. Nora's squeals were so loud that he could hear them like bells chiming on the wind. He use to make Nora laugh and giggle like that. He already hated the disfigured man.

Once the duo were out of his line of sight, he quickly packed up his things, descended the rickety fire escape that led to a cluster half-destroyed apartment buildings, and clambered down to the hard packed dirt. His eyes scanned the area for any movement and he listened closely for the sounds of enemies - human or otherwise - that may try to ambush him. When he was confident that the coast was clear, he ran down the nearest alleyway which cut behind a remarkably well-preserved victorian mansion.

He heard Nora's mirthful laugh again, this time much closer to him, and he ducked into an abandoned corner convenience store. In his haste, he overturned a table that had two empty bottles and an assortment of aluminum cans. The metal and glass clinked and clattered to the scorched tile floor.

"What the fuck was that?" He heard Nora exclaim.

"You wait here, sunshine. I'll check it out." Her companion rasped harshly.

"Like hell you will. I'm coming too." She protested.

He ducked beneath a shelf that had tipped over against the wall and pulled out a rectangle-shaped machine. He pressed the button and heard its electrical humming as he became cloaked in a stealth field. He pulled out his rifle just in case and waited.

He saw the ruined man first. His face was scarred beyond belief and his missing nose and coal black eyes made him look like a demon that had crawled his way out of hell.

The visible muscles in the disfigured man's jaw clenched in anticipation of a fight. It was a gesture that was simultaneously unsettling and gruesome. He knew that one well placed shot would put this thing down for good.

But before he could even move his finger towards the trigger, Nora carefully climbed over the rubble with her own pistol drawn and ready. He bit his tongue to keep himself from calling out to her. Her eyes scanned the area and she moved like she had been trained in combat. She moved like a soldier, he realized.

"I don't see anyone, sunshine." The disfigured man rasped.

"Perhaps they're hiding out. Or perhaps they're using a Stealth Boy." She replied. "The commotion was too big to be made by a radroach or a mole rat."

"It ain't the odd feral either."

Nora did one more sweep of the room. This time, she walked close enough that he could smell the tobacco smoke that stuck to her clothing. Apparently, she had started smoking again, even after she worked so hard to quit. He was disappointed.

The acrid smell of cigarette smoke assaulted his nose and he exhaled the breath that he had been holding. He thought he had been discreet, but Nora's head snapped towards his direction and her green eyes focused on him. She was looking right into his soul.

Nora, his Nora, was frightened. She swallowed and he could see her throat move in response. Her breathing was fast and shallow, like a nervous animal's, and her hand was trembling despite her stony exterior.

"You see anything?" The man called out. He had moved his search into the office.

"No. I don't see anything. Whoever it was is probably gone now." She replied but she sounded unconvinced. She reached out her hand and he moved his head to the left so she wouldn't accidentally brush up against him. He had been told the device would make him invisible to the eye, but it wouldn't make him incorporeal.

He noticed that her ring finger on her left hand was bare. The plain gold band, the one that she never took off no matter how much he pleaded her to out of fear that she'd lose it, was gone. How long had it been? A year? Maybe two? When Father had released her from the Vault, how long did it take for Nora to take off her wedding band? How long did it take her to forget him?

"Sunshine? You okay?" The burned man croaked out. He came up behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. The terror immediately melted from her face and she turned to him with a tender smile.

"Yeah, I'm good." She replied. Her smile was the one she'd always give him when he gave her extra pickles with her meal. Or when they walked hand in hand through the Boston Commons as he walked her back to the Suffolk campus. Or when he held her through her moments of depression, when the tears had dried on her face, and the gloom left her eyes.

Then she did something which destroyed him. Nora's left hand caressed the scarred and blistered skin of the man's ruined cheek tenderly and brought him in for a kiss. She loved him. He thought. She fucking loved this creature.

"C'mon." She replied. There was smoke in her voice. The kind of smoke that started fires of passion. "Nick's waiting for us. I don't wanna make him worry."

The man's thin lips cracked into a wry smirk, "All Nicky does is worry. Ya know that right?"

Nora rolled her eyes. She would often roll her eyes at him like that. That was her 'you're-being-insufferable' expression. "Still, I've given him enough things to worry about. Let's not add one more to the list. Whoever was here is probably long gone by now, and I wanna get back to Sanctuary by tomorrow."

He watched them both pick their way carefully through the rubble and the collapsed store. Once they were out of sight, he pressed the button on the machine to turn it off and sank against the broken cork board that was against his back.

He pulled out a walkie talkie device and spoke into it. His voice cracked from disuse. "This is Nate. Nora's on her way to Sanctuary. She has a ... man with her and they are both armed. What are my next instructions?"

"Keep tabs on them. Watch them from afar. Do not engage with her until you can be sure she's alone." Father's voice was dry and hollow. As the doctors put it, he didn't have much time left before his body would be too weak to fight off the spreading cancer.

"What should I do with her companions? She's meeting up with another one named Nick."

"I don't care. Kill them if they get in the way. They're not of concern to me. But whatever you do, make sure no harm comes to Nora. She -" He let out a wet, sickly cough, "She's too important for my work."

Nate turned off the walkie talkie and adjusted the military canvas bag that he had tied to his shoulders like a rucksack. He could hear the sound of gunfire off to the west towards Lexington. He was willing to bet they'd skirt around Lexington which meant that they'd be traveling due north once they crossed the river. He wracked his brain of notable landmarks north of Lexington and figured that the Drive In would be the most logical place to stop before getting to Concord.

It was at least a two hour walk to Concord. He'd trail them to the Drive In and then make his way to Sanctuary on his own. Although it meant more waiting, he knew that soon the wait would be over. It had been 200 years since he last talked to his wife. Waiting a couple more days at most wasn't going to kill him.

Nora and Hancock made good time to the Starlight Drive In. After the strange incident at the ransacked convenience store, Nora suggested that they avoid the main roads altogether. Hancock wasn't exactly thrilled at the idea of traipsing through known radscorpion country, but he wasn't going to admit that to Nora.

They cut beneath the underpasses and picked their way across the river without encountering a single radscorpion. Bloodbugs, on the other hand, were everywhere.

"Jesus Christ!" Nora complained as she scrubbed at the blood that painted her face. The damn mutated bug exploded like a ripe tomato when Nora shot it in the thorax, and all of the gore and blood from its previous victim rained down on her like a biblical plague.

"Look on the bright side, sunshine." Hancock grinned and handed her another piece of cloth that he cut from a spare shirt. "Most of these bugs only feast on shit-fer-brains brahmin. So the chances of you accidentally wearing the blood of another human is pretty low."

Nora shot him a withering expression and snatched the cloth from his hands.

"I never thought I'd say this, but sometimes I miss the Institute. I mean, I miss the fact that I could shower after getting covered in guts and gore."

"Don' worry, sunshine. Once we get to Starlight, I'll help ya clean up." He waggled his eyebrows suggestively.

"How could you think about sex when I'm covered in blood? I feel the absolute opposite of sexy right now." She grumbled and poured some purified water onto the pink stained cloth scrap.

The river was moving too swiftly for her to get a clear look at her reflection, but she did the best that she could. When she felt sufficiently clean, she pocketed the cloth and holstered her gun.

As she turned, Hancock's warm hand brushed a smudge of blood from her cheek and then cupped the side of her face in his large calloused hand. "Sunshine, you could be growing another head outta yer neck and I'd still think yer sexy."

"Flatterer." She accused with a small smirk.

"Guilty as charged." He winked and then grabbed her bag from the dusty ground and slung it onto his back with his own pack.

With the sun nearing the apex, the weather had warmed up enough for Nora to forgo her jacket so she tied it around her waist for safekeeping.

Nora and Hancock climbed up the steep embankment that led to the cemetery. Concrete and marble mausoleums dotted the perimeter like frozen soldiers, forever guarding and waiting. Most of the grave markers had been tarnished and weathered by time and a few graves had been dug up by animals, grave robbers, or something even worse.

As they walked through the brown tall grass, Nora heard a heavy sobbing coming from behind a small mausoleum. She drew her gun and ran towards the noise without thinking. She could hear Hancock whisper, "What the fuck are ya doin' sunshine?" but she ignored him.

"Hello?" She called out.

The figure was hunched so far over that he was partially obscured by the tall grass. At the sound of Nora's voice, however, he rose to his feet and pointed a pipe pistol shakily at the two of them.

"Ge-ge-get the f-fuck away from me." He sobbed. The man was dressed in a cobbled together assortment of armor. His face was sallow and pock-marked, and his eyes were bloodshot.

"Hey, hey." Nora replied calmly and raised her hand up in submission while still aiming her gun slightly away from the man. "We aren't gonna hurt you. Are you hurt? Do you need help?"

"Ju-just f-fuck off, alright?" He choked and aimed his pipe pistol at Nora's head. "I — I should shoot you for what happened to Roy."

"Hey, it's alright." Nora replied evenly and took a step away from the man. "We're gonna go. I'm sorry to interrupt. My condolences about Roy."

Nora could see that the man had been hunched over the bloody remains of a human. His head had been ripped from his shoulders and part of his spinal column was hanging out of his neck like a macabre Halloween decoration. By the looks of the decay and the bloated discoloration of his face and hands, Roy had been dead for a while.

"I don't give a fuck about your con-condo" He struggled to pronounce the word and then cocked the trigger on the pistol. "Fuck off!"

"Hey, Hey. Alright brother, we're fuckin' off." Hancock replied. He reached into his pants pocket and pulled out two canisters of Jet and tossed them to the man. "Treat yer self to a few hits of Jet. They come straight from Goodneighbor, so you know they're good. Let's get outta his hair, Nora."

They didn't turn their backs from the man until they were sure they were out of range from his pipe pistol. But when they did finally turn around to make their way to the end of the cemetery, Nora saw the man snatch up the Jet canisters, inhale deeply from one, and then curl up into the fetal position next to his dismembered friend.

Suddenly Nora felt ill and she stopped walking and wrapped her arms around her waist. That man could've easily been her. She could've given up outside of Vault 111. She could've ended it there or just let the wasteland take her, but she didn't. She chose to go to Sanctuary. She chose to find Shaun, for better or for worse, and she chose to live.

"Sunshine, you okay?"

"Yeah." She whispered.

She was here. She had survived the Vault, the wasteland, and even the Institute. Nora not only realized these facts, but she acknowledged them. She owned them. Nate didn't help her survive. She did that on her own. As tragic as it was for her to lose Nate, she wasn't going to just give up and succumb to death. She was going to fight.

"Sunshine?"

Nora met Hancock's onyx eyes and smiled. It was the first real smile that he had seen from her. It was a smile that lit up her face and that eased the wrinkles of anxiety and tension that crinkled around her eyes.

"I'm okay. Truly. And I'm going to be okay. At least, I think I am." She replied.

He chuckled and then wrapped his arm around Nora's waist. They walked side by side beneath the iron wrought archway that marked the entrance to the cemetery.

"Yer gonna be better than okay." He rumbled and kissed her cheek. "Yer gonna be fucking phenomenal one day."

Nora laughed in disbelief. "I'd settle on just 'good' but thanks for the vote of confidence."

"If you could only see what I see, sunshine." He replied with a smirk and broke away from her to take the lead.

She exhaled and relished in the warmth of his compliment. Although many things in her life had gone terribly, terribly wrong, Nora realized that she had many things for which to be grateful. This new perspective was rather comforting in a world that was often cruel, nihilistic, and filled with senseless pain and violence.

She looked over her shoulder as they climbed the small hill that led to the nearby railway station. Although she couldn't make out the shape of the despondent man mourning next to his dead friend, she saw how each gravestone marked the ground like small grey stepping stones. She could've been one of those graves if she had chosen to jump from the overpass those long two centuries ago. But she wasn't.

Nora didn't put a lot of stock into faith or any one God, but she did whisper a short thanks to the universe for putting people in her life who helped steer her towards the light. For people like Nate, Nick, Dr. Amari, and Hancock. For people who loved and supported her when she couldn't love herself.