Chapter Eleven
Hancock was never one to worry about Nora unless there were very physical and visual reasons to be worried about her. She was smart, strong, capable, and Hancock knew she had willpower and a type of grit that set her apart from so many in the Commonwealth. So unless she was battered, bruised and bleeding, he had little to concern himself with.
So it threw him for a loop when Nora had come back from the Institute and immediately locked herself away in her workshop down the road from Sanctuary.
He had tried to get to her, tried to talk to her and coax her out of her funk. For three days he brought her food that she refused to eat, water she refused to drink, and friends she refused to talk to. So today, he was arming himself with a sturdy crowbar and determination so he could free her from her prison.
So there he stood, the summer wind blowing hot on his back, his red, white and blue belt flapping at his side, and his crowbar glimmering in the sun. Hancock approached the door and knocked again, hoping against all hope that Nora would finally answer and let him in.
"Go away!" came the voice on the other side.
"Nora!" Hancock yelled. "Come on! Open the door!"
"No, John! I still need time!"
"Time's up, love!" he replied. "It's time to come out and talk to me!"
No answer this time, and Hancock groaned in annoyance. After another minute of waiting, he decided to act. Three good strikes with the crowbar made a nice hole over the inside lock. Hancock jimmied the crowbar in and was able to pull the lock off with the metal tool. The lock dropped to the floor in a loud, metallic cling! noise and he heard Nora curse from the other side.
"Ready or not!" he yelled and threw the massive garage door open, the wooden door clattering upwards as the garage pulley yanked it up.
The garage was humid and incredibly hot. Hancock saw Nora across the way with just her shorts and a tank top that was sticking to her and nearly transparent from her sweat. She was hunched over her desk, next to her table she used to modify her armor pieces, her fiery red hair taking on a much darker tone due to the excessive perspiration. Hancock approached her and pulled up a chair, placing himself right next to her. He looked around and saw papers strewn about, empty Nuka Cola bottles and liquor bottles, along with half eaten food packs. The place was a mess, and Nora couldn't seem to care.
She refused to look up at him, even with his closeness, so Hancock decided to go first.
"Love what you've done to the place," he mused. When she didn't respond, he tried again. "So, what is it that you're working on?" Still no response. Hancock sighed and put his hand over Nora's, finally making her pause. He leaned in, gave her his most sincere voice and said, "Hey, come on Nora, talk to me. What's going on? We're all really worried about you up at Sanctuary. Preston is nearly going insane, not being able to send you to new settlements and all, and even tough old Cait has been pacing."
Nora kept still, her face turned downward as she kept her eyes on her schematic. Hancock shook his head and sighed.
"Look, if it's about the Institute – "
"Shaun is there." Nora finally spoke, her tone flat. Hancock's eyes grew wide and he moved in closer now.
"You mean you found him? Nora, that's..." he trailed off as he rescanned the room. No kid, empty liquor bottles, nowhere near enough consumed food for three days, and a very tired looking Nora. He frowned. "That's what's bothering you, isn't it? You didn't bring him back, so you must have left him there." He grabbed Nora's hands and half forced her to look at him. Their eyes finally met and Hancock's heart broke to see the despair written all over her face.
After a long breath, Nora composed herself and spoke. "When Kellog took Shaun, I was refrozen and left in the Vault, right? For what we thought was only around twelve years, right?"
Hancock nodded.
"John…" Nora took another breath to steady herself. "Shaun is the Director of the Institute. He's the Father. And he's sixty years old."
Hancock felt his blood run cold, despite the intense summer heat. He sat back and frowned, running his hands over his head and trying to figure out what to say.
"Nora… I – "
"I'm going back there, John."
That made him even more confused.
"What?"
Nora sighed and stood up. She began to pace the workshop, fidgeting with her fingers as she did. "They've made such amazing progress, John; scientific advances that would blow you away. They've done things down there that I've never thought was possible in this wasteland."
"Like kidnap innocent people and replace them with synthetic copies?" John asked skeptically.
Nora shook her head. "That's unacceptable, I know. Trust me, that is something my son and I got into a very heated debate over." Nora leaned against the garage doorway and looked out onto the brown and desolate land, ruined by the radiation still looming over their planet. She sighed. "He's my son, John, and I have to try and reconnect and understand all of this. It's so confusing and frustrating and my heart is hurting like it did the first day I came out of that Vault. The Institute took my Shaun from me, and I want to go back so I can learn how to make them pay for it."
Hancock stood and walked over to Nora, gripping her shoulders and holding her close to him. He turned her towards him and shook his head. "Nora, you're stepping into very dangerous waters, here. I don't think I like where this situation is headed."
"He's my son, John," Nora implored. "I have to see him again. I have to get more answers. I just…. I needed time to be alone to put my thoughts in order." She looked up into his dark eyes, praying he would understand. "Please don't try to stop me, John. Please know that I have to do this. I need you now more than ever."
His heart broke at the utter anguish in her words and he pulled her into his chest, holding her close and kissing the top of her head, stroking her hair as he did. "Anything you need, love. I'm right here for you."
As he looked off over the hills towards Sanctuary, John couldn't help but notice the looming feeling in his chest...
When they finally reached Cabot's home, the throbbing in Hancock's arm had dulled. They made fairly good time, considering their wounds from earlier; but they were coming up on lunch time and Hancock could feel his stomach begin to growl.
"So, you think Cabot's got anything to eat in that place?" he asked.
Nora looked back at him. "Didn't you bring anything?"
"Well, yeah," he replied. "But I'm thinkin' this swanky bastard might have something unique to eat in there. Besides, he won't be eating anytime soon, and I think I've paid for enough today," he motioned to his arm, blood soaking through the bandage slightly. "We shouldn't let anything in there go to waste. And besides, aren't you starving by now?"
Nora was about to say something in response, but her own growling stomach answered for her.
"Ha! Told ya!"
Nora sighed, staring up at the two-story old colonial home. "I guess you have a point," she finally said.
The group entered the immaculately kept home and their noses were immediately assaulted by the stench of rotting flesh. They held their shirt collars or other fabrics to their mouths to try and breathe as best they could, but the smell was strong.
"I'm sorry, Director, I didn't think about removing Cabot's body from the premises," X6 apologized. "He's in the living room, but the staircase."
They ventured further into the house, much to their sense's despair, and spotted Jack Cabot lying face up near the staircase, just as X6 had said. Nora shuddered at the sight of the decay taking over his body. His corpse had filled with gas and the buildup had bloated him almost beyond recognition. Nora could see where his chest had been fractured, a deep concave had settled in the middle of his ribcage you could see easily with his puffed up body. His white lab coat lay open and his feet were sprawled out, probably due to falling backwards.
"Well," Nick mused from behind his trench coat collar. "Someone's seen better days."
"That smell… Goddamn and I thought ghouls had it bad," Hancock gagged as he tried to gain composure.
Nora shook her head. "This isn't right. We should do something for him – bury him at least." She turned away from the body and focused on Nick. "Could you and John…?"
"Say no more," Nick said, clapping Hancock on the shoulder. "We'll take care of it."
Hancock groaned and lightly batted at the torn skin on Nick's jaw. "Okay flappy, but you're doing most of the heavy lifting."
As Nick and Hancock struggled with Cabot's body, Nora sat X6 down to rest while she got to work on scrubbing the gore out of the carpet. Cabot's house had been kept in pristine, prewar condition due to his and his family extended lifespan. Their appliances were still operational, making boiling water an easy thing to obtain. Nora got to work and put a pot of water on the stove to heat up while she brought out sponges and towels and Abraxo cleaner from the pantry. As she waited for the water to heat up, she searched the kitchen for all the non-perishables they'd be able to take with them. Her stomach growled louder as she brought out cans, boxes and jars of food; but she put it out of her mind. There was no way they were going to eat with that stench in the house. Once the water was ready, she dumped the cleaner into it and got to work on the floor.
Outside, Hancock and Nick struggled to drag Cabot outside. The sun was hot as it rose to its noon position high in the cloudless sky and even Hancock was beginning to sweat.
"Fucking Courser couldn't have done this when he came here last time?" Hancock complained as they set Cabot down in the yard.
"Quit complaining and let's get some shovels," Nick replied, walking around the house to a tool shed in the back. Hancock followed, but continued to mutter his complaints under his breath.
They dug mostly in silence, taking only short breaks to puff on their cigarettes or take a drink of water. Hancock found himself reminiscing of his and Nora's first encounter with Cabot. He remembered Jack being an eccentric man who believed in both science and magic. He claimed to be over four hundred years old, surviving due to the magic in his father's blood that had been manipulated into a serum for immortality. Hancock had found him odd, never fully believing or understanding his fascination with the occult until he saw it for himself.
They had traveled to an abandoned hospital and met Cabot's father - a man by the name of Lorenzo who was quite regal and carried himself as such. Hancock remembered seeing the man behind a wall of glass in a high security containment unit and being underwhelmed by him. He certainly had looked normal enough. It wasn't until he had broken out of his containment that Hancock had witnessed just how powerful he really was. Lorenzo had tried to sway Nora, tried to offer his blood to her in exchange for baiting and killing the Cabot family; but she refused. Instead, she and Hancock had to fight for their lives in order to kill the maniac before he could kill Jack and escape to the Commonwealth.
Hancock should have known then and there that their relationship would never survive. Nora wouldn't take the immortality offered to her, and there he was, a near immortal man…
A mound of dirt hit Hancock in the face, bringing him back to reality. He cursed and wiped the gritty black and brown soil from his face to see Nick staring up at him from the deep hole in the ground.
"Where the hell did you go?" he asked.
Hancock sighed and took out his tin of Mentats, placing one under his tongue and putting the tin back in his pocket. "Just thinkin' is all," he said, and he hopped down into the hole to help dig. The sun above was beating down now, and both men removed their jackets to try and cool down. After what felt like hours, Nora finally came out from the house, three beer bottle clinking in her hands, and bed sheets hanging off of her arm.
"That's probably good enough guys," she said holding up the bottles. "I'm sure you're thirsty and hungry. Food is almost ready." She dropped the sheets beside Cabot's body and helped to hoist Nick and Hancock out of the grave. They took the beers offered and all three drank their beers gone in a matter of seconds.
Hancock let out a long, loud belch and wiped his mouth. "Man, I'm getting used to cold beer. It definitely tastes better out here in the heat."
Nick stared at the bottle for a moment, then smiled at Nora with his now lop-sided jaw. "Not bad," he nodded towards the house. "How's X6?"
"Resting," Nora sighed. She motioned towards the house after silently burping. "There's more where that came from inside. Get Cabot in the grave and come in. We'll bury him tonight after the sun sets and stay here tonight. I still haven't poked around for any evidence yet and I'm sure we're going to find something to point us in the right direction in New York."
Both men nodded and got to work gently wrapping up the body as Nora left for the house.
Hancock rubbed his hands together eagerly. "Okay, Nicky-boy, let's get this guy wrapped and delivered real fast-like. I'm starving!"
Nora had made an amazing stew out of Mirelurk meat and vegetables. Even Nick and X6 had to try some just to see what all the fuss was about. After airing out the sickening smell of the house as best they could, eating became slightly easier, and Hancock was having his fill of dinner and booze. Nora finished her bowl and sat back, sipping her glass of wine.
"You should be eating more," Hancock doted. "You'll need your energy for the rest of the trip."
She shook her head. "I'm good. Appetite's gotten smaller in my old age." She tipped back her glass, finished the red wine and stood. "I'm going to go search in Cabot's lab for anything that might help us. X6, you need to rest. We'll be taking you back to the Institute tomorrow to have your arm replaced."
X6 looked up from his seat, his brows furrowed. "Director, I don't think that's necessary. I can still fire a pistol or hand gun. I can keep up."
But Nora shook her head. "I can't risk losing my best Courser – and my friend – to come along without an arm. The Institute already has your spot reserved to be repaired tomorrow. I'll be bringing Q1-33 with me instead."
Though X6 was extremely well-versed in hiding his emotions, Nora knew him long enough to pick up on when he's bothered. The tiniest twitch on his face told her that he didn't care for that idea. X6 was her main Courser when she traipsed about the Commonwealth and he always hated it when she went anywhere above ground without him.
Nora smirked. "Do you have an issue with my order?"
"I don't trust Q1-33," he stated simply.
"Well, I can't very well bring you with me into unknown territory when you're missing your arm, X6," Nora explained. "I expect you to respect my decision, not to like it. Now, go get some rest."
Nora turned on her heel and escaped to the downstairs lab, leaving the three men alone in the kitchen. Hancock had just finished the last of his meal and was lighting a cigarette.
"Sorry brother," he apologized while exhaling. "Really, I didn't mean for that to happen. I fell pretty fuckin' awful about it."
Then, X6 stood and marched over to Hancock's chair calmly, keeping his perfect posture. He leaned over the ghoul slightly and even through is highly reflective sunglasses, Hancock could see him glaring.
"Should anything happen to the Director while I'm away, I'll hold you personally responsible," X6 said flatly. "It's because of you that I need to be repaired and she has to go on without me. If she comes to any harm, well, you'll wish I had only ripped off your arm by the time I'm done with you."
Hancock nodded, swallowing. "I feel what you're gettin' at, I do," he said. "But Nora's strong. She can handle herself for a little while without you, don't you worry."
X6 didn't respond. He simply walked past Hancock to the couch to lie down and rest.
"Well," Nick cleared his throat. "Let's go check out the rooms. There must be something to find up there."
As they walked up the stairs, Nick noticed something peculiar on the old afghan rugs. When they reached the second level hallway, he crouched down to inspect his findings while Hancock stood aside.
"Bullet holes in the floor," Nick mumbled. "Did Cabot's struggle start here?" He scanned the area for any signs of a struggle, but found none. Frowning, Nick stood and continued down the hall to Cabot's room.
Hancock leaned in to check the other rooms upstairs. He remembered Cabot's sister and how much she would party in her younger days, and he hoped to find a good stash of chems in her room. He found it and peeked inside, amazed at its pristine condition. All the furniture was original; the bed was clean, the sheets laundered and free of holes or moth balls. Hancock walked in and began to search desk drawers next to her computer, but to no avail. He tried her dresser next, lingering a little too long in her underwear drawer than necessary…
'Not as if she's going to complain,' he thought.
Jackpot. A tin box under her panties that wasn't even locked. Hancock grinned to himself and pulled the box out, lifting the lid. Inside were a mixture of syringes and pills, all things Hancock recognized as a way to get a party started. He greedily hoarded the contents into his coat pocket and left her room in a hurry.
"Hey, Nicky-boy, you find anything in there – " Hancock peeked around the corner into Jack Cabot's room and stopped talking. His eyes widened as he saw gory bits of what must have been X6-81 strewn across the room.
"Well… uh… ain't this an added bit of disgusting?" Hancock said, standing behind Nick.
"It seems X6-81 opened fire on his assailant in the hallway and the struggle between them ended here. The fight must have begun downstairs until Cabot was killed? Or possibly Cabot told his to run?" Nick mused, lost in his own train of thought. "But why wouldn't he have protected Cabot downstairs? What was more important up here?"
"I don't know, but there's a fuck-ton of letters and maps and science shit everywhere, Nick. It looks like someone went through it pretty roughly," Hancock shuffled through random pages and began to walk around the room as Nick investigated documents more closely. Hancock kept his hands in his pockets, not wanted to touch anything that might be important and keeping his distance from any piece of X6-81 that blocked his path of meandering. He kept his eyes on the pictures on the walls, most being paintings of random scenery: waterfalls, meadows, old country barns. One painting that caught Hancock's attention, though, was the one of Jack Cabot's family.
The painting was well taken care of, the paint still vibrant as if it was created only a few months ago. Jack – portrayed as a young boy and his sister, Emogene – a toddler, stood in front of their parents. His mother, young, attractive and blond, sat regally in a plush, red velvet chair while her husband, Lorenzo Cabot stood behind her. His hand rested on her shoulder and her hand lightly touched it. They looked happy; even through their stoic faces, they looked happy It was hard to imagine the young boy in his uniform would grow to lock his father away for centuries in order to use his blood for his own selfish means.
Hancock sighed and was about to walk away, until he noticed something off about the picture.
"Hey Nick, come here. I think I got something for ya."
Nick strode over and stood next to the ghoul, eyeing the painting with him.
Hancock pointed to the lower right corner of the painting. "Does that corner look a little… uh… worn to you? Compared to the rest?"
Nick moved in closer and nodded. "It does." He ran a finger over the corner and frowned. "Something's under here. Give me your knife."
Hancock handed Nick his knife and watched as the detective gingerly pried at the frame, gently pulling the canvas back.
"Is that a button?" the ghoul asked.
Nick nodded. "It is. Stand back." He pressed the button beneath the painting and instantly the frame swung outward, revealing a safe. Nick eyed the steel door and ran his hands over it, trying to find some sort of switch to unlock it. When he couldn't find one, he frowned. "How the hell do we get into this?" He turned and scanned the room. "No sign of a computer. John, can you check with Nora if there is a computer in the lab? I'm pretty sure this lock can only be disengaged by a computer."
Hancock, who was in the middle of a Med-X dose, smiled. "Sure thing." He walked casually to the doorway and leaned out into the hallway.
"NORA!"
"….WHAT?!"
"IS THERE A COMPUTER DOWN THERE?!"
"… YES! WHY?!"
"CAN YOU HACK IT AND SEE IF YOU CAN DISENGAGE A LOCK? WE GOT A SAFE UP HERE!"
Nick cringed and rolled his eyes. "Couldn't have just gone down there, could you?"
Hancock shrugged, grinning. "Thought never occurred to me."
Sighing, Nick watched the safe until he hear a click, and the small steel door swung open. "Just watch the door," he said. "Nora's already had to deal with cleaning up after Cabot. No need for her to see X6-81's remains, too."
Hancock stood by the door and lit up a cigarette. Nick turned his attention to the safe and peered inside. A metal briefcase was the only thing inside, so he carefully reached in and pulled it out. The case was in amazing condition and cool to the touch. There was a lock that Nick easily tampered with and the lid clicked, allowing the synth to open it.
"Oh my god…"
Nick's eyes shot up to see Nora standing in the room, just past the doorway with her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide with horror and brimming tears. In the doorway behind her, Hancock had passed out and was lightly snoring on the floor.
"Fucking hell, John," Nick cursed to himself. He set the briefcase down and went to Nora, holding her by the arm as she sat on the partially gore-soaked bed. Nick watched her eyes wander around the room is disbelief, the tears glistening over the green irises, and he sighed. "I'm sorry Nora. 81 didn't deserve this."
Nora took a moment to gather herself, wiping away the tears the threatened to drop. She took a deep breath and exhaled. "It's okay. We'll gather what we can and bury him with Cabot. It's the least we can do."
Nick patted her arm. "Did you find anything in the lab?" He was desperate to get her attention away from their surroundings. "Anything we can use?"
Nora shook herself and frowned. "Some basic chems and ingredients – nothing of importance," she glanced at the briefcase across the room. "What's in there?"
Nick sighed. "Was just about to find out." He brought the case over to Nora and she placed it on her lap. "God ahead," he urged.
She opened the lid and a tiny mist of cold air escaped, giving Nora goosebumps. She stared at the contents – vials of the blood lined up and sealed neatly along the top side of the case. Nora picked one from its resting spot and rolled it in her hand, observing the cold glass with scientific curiosity.
"It's blood," she said matter-of-factly.
Nicked leaned in to get a look. "Is this what Alistair was after? This blood?"
"I'm not sure," Nora replied. "It would have been relatively easy to find, but I can't imagine what else he'd want."
"Unless he already took it," Nick pointed out.
"Well yes, there is that possibility."
A loud snore erupted from Hancock as he shifted slightly in his spot. Nora huffed, shaking her head. "Come on," she said, closing the briefcase. "Let's get 81 gathered up and get them buried before it's too dark outside. We owe them that much, at least."
Nora sat outside with Nick on some old wooden lounge chairs. Both were drinking beers from the house and sitting in silence, watching the sun set and the stars come out to twinkle. Nora felt relaxed, finally feeling at ease after a long and trying day. They had gathered X6-81's remains and buried them along with Jack Cabot's body. Nick had always questioned why Nora didn't simply recover their memory chips and rebuild the synths if they 'died'. Her response was always the same."
'Most synths and coursers want to be as human as possible. That includes a permanent death. I may be going to hell by playing God as far as creation goes, but I'll never be the one to reanimate the dead.'
"It was nice of you to give a eulogy," Nick said, finally breaking the silence.
Nora nodded. "Cabot was brilliant. A crazy bastard who totally did not deserve a eulogy; but a brilliant mind nonetheless. My words were mostly for 81. He didn't deserve this."
After another swig, Nick asked, "Do you think Crowley is still in the Commonwealth? Would he have any reason to stay, or even any reason to go back to New York?"
Nora thought about that. She had been thinking about it ever since they had found that briefcase. Alistair used the blood to extend his life as well, but had stated to Cabot that he no longer needed it years ago. Why come back for it? If it wasn't the blood, what else could he have possibly need from Cabot? It was all very confusing, and it was making Nora's head hurt from trying to process it. So, she tipped her beer back to her lips and chugged it back, letting out a long belch afterwards, enjoying the immediate buzz the alcohol gave her.
"Always the lady," Hancock said from behind Nora's chair, making her jump.
"Nice of you to finally join us after your nap, John," Nick said, slightly annoyed at Hancock and his impromptu rest.
But Hancock just shrugged with two beers in his hands, both opened. "Guess I overdid it slightly on the Med-X; not like I was shot in the fucking arm or anything," he eyed Nora accusingly.
"Next time just don't be an idiot," she answered, unaffected by his guilt attempt.
Nick rose from his seat and stretched. "Well, I'm tired of hearing all the bickering for one day. I'm going in to run some diagnostics with X6." He walked towards the house, hands in his pockets. He called over his shoulder, "Try not to kill each other! I've done enough grave digging today!"
Hancock and Nora both scowled, but Hancock sat down in the free seat anyway, taking a long drink of his beer. The silence between them was long and awkward, but neither would leave before the other. Nora strummer her fingers on the wooden chair arm, while Hancock popped a Mentat pill under his tongue.
"Still the drug of choice, huh?" Nora asked, watching him from the corner of her eye.
He shrugged. "Can't mess with a classic."
The silence stretched on, leaving both of them feeling strange in their own skins. Decades ago, they could have sat out for hours on end, bullshitting back and forth, flirting, laughing; but now it was just weird. Nora coughed a few times and Hancock lit up a cigarette, taking in a deep beath.
"Hey John, can I bum one?" Nora asked.
The ghoul handed her the pack and the matches. He watched as Nora's thin but still delicate fingers took a cigarette from pack. He watched as she placed it between her lips and struck the match, the light illuminating her mature, yet still beautiful face. Again, he felt his heart skip a few times, and it made him look away into the distance, listening for the random gunshots ringing out into the night air.
"Remember that time we were cornered in the Quincey Police Station by all those gunners?" Nora asked through the smoke. She had a slight smirk on her lips as Hancock laughed, remembering the incident she was referring to.
"Shit," he laughed. "I remember we were cornered in that fucking graveyard, fighting for our goddamn lives, and then you tell me to hoist you over the stone wall. I remember thinking 'Okay, good, we're gettin' out of here right quick', and then you went over and didn't come back."
Nora laughed. "I was pretty bad and giving details under pressure. But admit it, my plan was genius."
"You led a gang of Super Mutants to us. Your plan was crazy." Hancock replied flatly, though he was beaming inside.
Nora laughed even harder. "It was… it was like a slow motion action movie! Ha! I came around the bend… ha ha!... with this horde of mutants on my tail… oh my god… and came in from behind the gunners! Your face… that look on your face!"
"It was the ultimate 'What the fuckity-fuck' moment for sure," he grinned, happy to hear Nora's laughter.
The silence settled in again as they recovered from their laughter. Both took another drag from their cigarettes, another swig of their beers, and smiled.
"Look, Nora, I'm sorry."
She gave him a curious look.
Hancock stared down at his bottle, feeling nervous; but things needed to start being said. He sighed and continued, "I was just thinkin' earlier about Lorenzo and that day we fought and killed him. I remember how he offered you the key to immortality, just like Cabot, and you refusing him flat out. Even though you knew I'd live far, far longer than you, you decided to decline and live a normal life. For the longest time, I was so mad at you for saying no. I had hoped that maybe one day you'd do something to try and extend your lifespan, but you didn't. You chose Nate ultimately over me, and that tore me up and made me hate you for a long time, which was totally selfish and stupid. Of course your love for him would be stronger than your love for me. I'm sorry I was too bone-headed to realize it."
A moment of silence passed again, and Hancock felt as if he had let go of a thirty year weight he'd been carrying for all that time. He felt good. He felt like talking and getting out his feelings and thoughts could begin to mend the broken strings that once tied the two of them together.
"Is that what you seriously believe, John? That I love Nate more than you?"
The icy cold tone in Nora's voice told Hancock that maybe his choice of words was less than… appropriate.
Nora finished her cigarette, then stomped on it, digging her foot into the ground. She was angry. She knew Hancock meant well, that he was trying to make amends; but he really had no clue. Nora stood, straightened her skirt and lab coat and stared at Hancock. "For all that time we spent together, for all the adventures we've had, for all those long, romantic nights, you still think I don't love you as much as Nate?" She threw her hands up when he wouldn't respond and groaned. "This was never about our love for each other, John! This was about your hatred for the Institute and how you let it completely cloud your judgement and your feelings!
"I tried all that I could to make it work! I was open about all the things I did there, I tried to explain time and time again my reasoning for joining them, but you'd have none of it!"
"I have my reasons!" Hancock finally shouted back.
"You're right," Nora crossed her arms. "You did have your reason. You had every right to hate the Institute for what it did under my son's leadership. You had every right to be angry for what they did to your brother, to your people." Her eyes narrowed and she bent over, leaning into Hancock's personal space in a way that made him hot and uncomfortable at the same time. "But you have no right to be angry at me. Not anymore."
Hancock felt his temperature rise; he was pissed, ashamed, embarrassed and hurt. He wasn't sure how to react to Nora's words. Hell, he wasn't even sure how to process them yet. He knew he had some apologizing to do, but he had no clue he had been angry for all the wrong reasons, apologizing for all the wrong reasons; and he had no idea about how Nora actually felt.
Until tonight.
And did she use the phrase 'love you' in the present tense?
He couldn't help that smirk that appeared on his face as he looked up at her, her green eyes ablaze. "You said 'love me', as in the here and now."
After a moment more of intense anger, Nora softened, chuckled, and relaxed her shoulders. She rolled her eyes and stared off over the horizon. It was late. It was time to rest.
"You're blind, John, because you choose to be blind. Open up your eyes and get some perspective of the world around you. You'll learn a lot. Trust me."
And with that, Nora walked away, back to the house, leaving Hancock to sit and digest her words.