Silver leaned against the bathroom door until she could compose herself. Why did he do that? Poke and prod at her that way? He probably just liked to get under her skin. People in power always felt so comfortable exercising it over others. At least his prying seemed playful rather than outright villainous.

She tugged off her boots and kicked them into a corner. She was catching her breath more quickly than she had anticipated. That was a small comfort.

Silver pried herself away from the door and then peeled off her jumpsuit. She kicked that into the same corner as her boots and took a moment to enjoy the feeling of the warm air on her skin.

She approached the mirror cautiously. After working up the nerve she raised her hand and wiped away the condensation that had built up on the surface. She forced herself to look at the woman reflected back at her.

The woman was a stranger. She had never been greatly familiar to Silver, but she had once been recognizable at the very least. Where had those cheekbones come from? Had they always been that prominent? She recalled her ribs had always been detectable, but not so much as to be countable, as they were now.

And how could she have come back from weeks on the road, out under the sun, and actually be paler than when she had left? Sure, it was winter and sunlight wasn't exactly abundant, but this was ridiculous. Well, paler everywhere except for the dark circles that had formed under her eyes.

There was dirt smeared across her cheek and a dot of it on the tip of her nose. She wondered how long that had been here.

"Embarrassing," Silver huffed, wiping her face. Once satisfied she had eradicated the worst of the filth from her face, she went back to her self examination.

She traced the scars on her throat with her fingers, mimicking the swipe that must have put them there. Even they looked unfamiliar under the harsh unnatural light. She could no longer recall what her face had looked like before she had received them. She couldn't decide if they helped to ground her, to prove to others she could be hurt and bleed as easily as they could, or if they only made her more of a monster.

Lastly, she inspected her eyes. Those, at least, had not changed. That didn't mean they were easy to face. Finding nothing of value in them, she turned her gaze away.

Silver unpinned her hair, which took some time, as it required several pins to hold it all so tightly. She shook it loose and took care to unweave the braids scattered throughout it. Paulette had put them there but Silver didn't mind them.

Thick and coarse, her hair hung over her boney shoulders in uneven waves. The result of the many hours it had spent trapped on top of her head. She hadn't cut it since leaving the wastes and she was pleased to see it making progress. She knew long hair was impractical for her profession, but she had been bobbing it for years and had grown tired of it. She thought short hair had only made her look more intimidating, and she would rather let her gun do the intimidating.

Silver patiently gathered her pallid locks to one side, in front of her shoulder, so as to bare her back. She turned her body away from the mirror and attempted to peer over her shoulder.

She couldn't see it entirely without the aid of another mirror, but she could see it well enough to know it was there. Bridging the gap between her shoulders, in the same bold black script as on her jumpsuit, was the word Silverfish. The word that continued to pass as her name. She hadn't lied when she said she was emattached/em to her name.

It could be worse, she acknowledged. It could have said something even more ridiculous like Butterfly or Ladybug, or something cliché like Black Widow. Silverfish wasn't so bad. At least her color scheme helped her live up to her namesake.

Silver tossed her head back, shaking her hair out again before opening the shower and starting the flow of water. She cupped her hand under the shower head and tested the temperature.

Hot water. Not incredibly hot, the damn ghoul had seen to that, but it was warm at least. What did it matter, it was never hot enough for her liking anyways. And what in hell's name had possessed her to invite him to her quarters? She easily could have sent him to the med-bay. They usually kept the place staffed day and night now, what with all the travelers moving in and out. Obviously she hadn't been thinking clearly.

Water splashed the shower floor, swirling around flecks of dirt and grit that had been left behind by the good mayor. Silver felt her stomach lurch at the thought of standing where he had stood just minutes ago. There was something almost inherently intimate about a maiden bathing and before now the space had been for her and her alone. She waited for every last trace of dirt to disappear down the drain before she allowed herself to continue.

Despite her discomfort, she couldn't say she hated his presence. She had heard the mayor of Goodneighbor practically exuded charisma and wit, but she hadn't expected it to effect her in any way. She expected a smooth talker, and while Hancock may have had a silver tongue, she felt there was more to him than that.

Silver Sighed and her shoulders sagged heavily. She hated to admit it but she didn't dislike his company. He was equal parts charming and annoying. And it was almost sort of nice to have a guest over for once. She decided she could forgive the mess.

When the dirt had drained away Silver stepped out of her plain cotton panties and into the steady stream of water. She scrunched her eyes shut and let the water pour over her face. It felt like drowning, but peaceful, almost pleasant. No sound but the patter of water hitting the shower floor.

Silver reveled in the sensation of the water snaking over her neck and dripping down her back. She liked the feeling of her wet hair sticking to her skin, of her nails sliding over her scalp. Hot water nearly made up for all the things she hated about vault life.

She washed her hair with lavender and tea leaf shampoo, a gift from Dr. Penske. It did its best to instill some shine and softness to her pale dull locks, but it often had little effect. Still Silver liked the sent of it, and she loved to feel clean again after being gone for so long. It helped her to feel human again. If human was even what she was.

For a split second, hot angry tears threatened to well up in her eyes but Silver pushed them back. She had forbidden herself from shedding any more tears over that matter. The pain in her stomach had grown. What had started as a dull wave of nausea had now become a deep burning sensation.

"Heart burn? You have to be kidding me," she panted, slicking her bangs back and stroking her stomach.

She had been so careful with her meals, so choosey with what foods she put in her body, but she continued to get sick. It hadn't started when they had moved into the vault, but it had gotten worse since they had started living there. She tried to tell herself it was all in her head, but it persisted.

Silver's diet had always been peculiar, she survived mostly on meat and fresh fruit, high in protein and natural sugars. Straying too far from that regiment often ended with Silver's stomach rejecting the food.

Since her sickness had started she had gentled her diet, restricted her intake, her usual methods of getting her body under control, but this time nothing worked. She had begun to worry it was something more serious, but she refused to give into that fear just yet.

That sort of worrying was more typical of Paulette, and the last thing Silver wanted was to be turning into her sister. That was a fate worse than any stomach pain.

Silver scrubbed over her body, trying to bury the stomach pain deep inside her. She counted backwards from 10, tilting her head up towards the ceiling to keep the water from entering her mouth. She sucked in the steamy air and leaned back against the shower wall. She shivered, as the tile was relatively cool compared to the water, but she found the sudden temperature change invigorating and pleasurable.

Satisfied she had sufficiently scoured her skin of the grime that had accumulated on it over the last few weeks, she cranked off the water, and crossed her arms over her chest to enjoy the warmth of the steam a while longer.

She laid her head back against the wall, squeezing the excess water from her hair. Outside her bathroom was, quite possibly, the world's nosiest ghoul. Charming as he may occasionally be, she was thoroughly exhausted. Would anyone blame her if she stayed there nestled in the warmth until he'd gone away?

But of course the steam couldn't last forever, and the warmth quickly dissipated. Soon Silver found herself cold. She quickly wrapped herself up in her towel and wrung out her hair a bit more. She hastily brushed her teeth with her "home" toothbrush. Her stomach had begun to burn again, and there was now a dull throbbing taking root somewhere behind her eyes. The moment of comfort was over and reality was waiting outside.

Hancock had smoked two more cigarettes while Silver had been in the bathroom, evident by the butts that mingled in the coffee mug beside him. He now dozed lazily with his elbow leaning on the table and his head cradled in the palm of his hand. He didn't even stir when the bathroom door slid open.

Silver emerged from the bathroom trailing fine swirls of steam. She was dressed in her winter button down pajamas. They were vertically striped with white and pale blue, and were admittedly, a full size too big for her. She draped a towel over her shoulders to catch the droplets of water from her hair as it dried, but also to keep her warm.

She glanced at Hancock and had to stifle a laugh. She hadn't expected to see him sleeping so soundly. like a tired child. She had never met someone so at ease before. She was a little envious. She quietly ambled over to the table and checked her watch again. There was still a bit left to wait yet, so she let Hancock sleep.

She toweled at her hair and ran her fingers through it to allow the air to get to it. She thought about unpacking the rest of her bag but didn't want to make too much noise. Besides, she was tired, and the bag would be there in the morning.

Instead she fetched an emery board stashed in one of the "kitchen" drawers, sat herself on the counter, and began to file down her nails. The board was not the sort of cheap plastic or paper one that would have been left behind in some pre war salon. It was cast of metal, perhaps meant to be used for sanding metal in machine work. Metal, because it was strong enough to smooth Silver's nails.

She had once asked Dr. Forsythe to examine a sample of her nail, to determine why they grew the way they did. He told her that her nails were made out of the same keratin and proteins as anyone else's, only hers were twice as strong. Instead of soft and translucent they grew in hard and black, like animal claws or horns. He concluded that they had, in some way, been modified genetically. She was unimpressed. All of that bother to be told she wasn't normal, like she hadn't figured that out.

Her nails also grew quite quickly, which made them difficult to maintain on the road. She filed them down like this when she could, but that wasn't always an option. She sometimes tried to grind them down against bricks and whatever rigid surfaces she could find, but it was an endless battle. She felt clumsy with her nails grown long, but she had to admit they sometimes came in handy. Prying things loose, plucking out splinters, clawing out eyes. Those sorts of things.

Silver gave her hair another squeeze and cringed. Still wet, and growing cold. She gave it another going over with the towel then searched for a comb in the drawer in the cabinet beneath her.

From the table Hancock mumbled in his sleep. The words were just shy of coherent but Silver thought he might have said something about mermaids. She wondered if the feared and powerful Mayor of Goodneighbor dreamed about such whimsical beings often.

Were they sweet mermaids? Braiding strings of pearls into each other's hair, splashing and giggling in a crystal blue lagoon? Or were they mysterious sirens, singing mournful songs from the cliff sides and sea caves, luring him to a watery grave.

emNo,/em she thought, emHe wouldn't dream about those things/em.

She imagined that if Mayor Hancock did dream of merfolk, they were the sort who sunned themselves lazily on rocks, passing around inhalers of jet. Silver laughed out loud, nearly dropping her comb to the floor.

Hancock stirred with a groan, his elbow nearly slipping out from underneath him. He blinked and looked around. "What…What'so funny then?"

Silver shook her head but couldn't conceal her smile. "No, no, nothing…"

Hancock's face screwed up in mild confusion and possibly even annoyance. "Mus' be something…"

"I didn't mean to wake you…I thought you might be dreaming."

Hancock smiled. "I ain't so sure I'm not still dreaming now….Your hair…it's different."

Silver touched the damp ends of her hair and went back to combing it. "It's…down."

"Oh, yeah, that's it! You, look younger like that…not so serious." Hancock looked at Silver a while, studying her. "How old are you anyways?"

Silver shook her head. "We don't really know. I've been with my family for about 14 years or so, so at least that old."

"You-You could be as young as that?" Hancock sputtered.

"No, of course not. I wasn't a baby when my family took me in."

"R-right, right…It's been a long day…"

"I was probably old enough to speak when they found me, but I didn't for a long time. And when I did, well, like I said, I didn't remember anything." Silver stopped combing and laid her hands in her lap. She gazed off into the darkness of the far corner, looking for nothing, and yet somehow disappointed when she found exactly that. "It was almost like starting over again…so, we don't really know how old I am."

Hancock rubbed at his face trying to coax the sleep out of him, then let his hand fall onto the table. "I went ghoul right around 28…or maybe 31, hell, somewhere in there, but that's the age I feel. Most days anyways. What age do you feel?"

"I've never really thought about it before…"

"Come on, humor me."

Silver bit her lip and thought. She let her dangling feet thump against the cabinet below. "Twenty maybe? I don't know. Do ages really feel a certain way? I don't feel any age, I just…am."

"Huh…" Hancock grunted.

"That must sound strange…"

"Nah, not really, I get it…some people have blank spaces they'd rather not fill in. Not that unusual at all."

Silver looked Hancock over. He was so nonjudgmental that it made her uneasy. People that were quick to agree with you were usually after something. However, if he had an ulterior motive, he sure was good at hiding it. Finding she could not detect anything out of place, Silver hopped down from the counter and wandered into the sitting area aimlessly. She couldn't place the feeling, but she suddenly felt lost in her own home. Lost, and dizzy.

"Is it time to go?" Hancock asked, realizing the watch was gone from the table.

"No, not yet."

"Mm.."

Silver gave a soft sigh and discarded her towel onto the floor. "You can sleep all day. Those chems aren't going anywhere..."

"Y'think the overseer will just hand 'em over like that?" Hancock asked, preparing to light another cigarette then deciding against it.

"No. But she'd be glad to be rid of them for a few caps. McNamara is smart; she knows how the world works."

"I don't have much on me. I like to travel light...any suggestions?'

Silver pursed her lips and thought. As much as she really didn't care about old king chem getting his next fix, she knew the sooner he got what he was after, the sooner he would be out of her hair.

"You helped find Ellie, and you took out your fair share of raiders. If you can negotiate a fair price with McNamara I'll cover the difference, on two conditions. First, I get any Med-x that got left behind. Second…you take your chems and you move on. It's nothing personal, I just...I need things to go back to normal as soon as possible. This isn't easy for me, even if you have been decent company."

Hancock grinned at her in that twisted but playful manner he seemed so fond of. "Decent company huh? Don't tell me, ol' handsome Hancock broke another heart?"

Anger flared up under Silver's skin follwed by a jolt of pain in her abdomen. "Oh please! Do you-do you honestly think that you-" Then she realized. She had been fooled again. That made her even angrier, but she refused to let him see it.

"Relax doll," he said eventually. "I get where you're coming from. This place is your home. You just want it to stay the way it is."

Silver nodded. "Right..." That smug insightful bastard

"I accept your generous offer. I'm sure doing business with you will be a real empleasure/em ."

Silver frowned. "Do me a favor."

"S'that?"

"Could you tell me what cooked your brain first? The rads or the chems?"

Hancock bellowed with laughter, laying a hand on his stomach. "Hey, I feel lied to. You said you wouldn't make any more jokes."

Silver gave her best sneer. "Who's joking?"

Hancock stood from the table. An audible crack resonated from his knee as he stretched.

"I don't mean to alarm you," he said, "but I think we just had a conversation. Like normal people."

"I'll be damned..." Silver whispered. She hoped her amazement sounded less genuine than it felt.

Hancock followed Silver into the sitting area and perused through the bottles of liquor on the small table. "How about a night cap?"

"Sure." Silver stretched her back, arms raised high over her head, and let out a soft groan.

Hancock selected a bottle of pre-war whiskey with a faded label and poured them both a drink.

The nagging cold had begun to naw away at her again and sent her into a fit of shivering. She desperately wanted to sleep but she could never relax enough to do so as long as a ghoul was present.

She was doubtful she would be able to sleep even after he left. The acid in her stomach sloshed and churned and leapt into the back of her throat. She knew she would have to fight to keep her meal down tonight. Sleep would not come easy.

Silver wrapped herself in a raggedy blanket that had somehow survived the trip from Capital, and curled up on the chaise to battle her shakes. Hancock delivered her drink and made himself comfortable in the remaining chair.

Silently, and without much acknowledgment from each other, they tipped their glasses back.

Hancock hissed with satisfaction. "You know what this needs? A couple'a Mentats." He jumped up and riffled through his pack in search of some.

"You like them a lot...I've noticed you sneaking them when Paulette isn't looking."

"Sure do. What about you?' He called over his shoulder. "Is Med-X your pick? That's serious stuff ya know, easy to get hooked on."

Silver felt her brow pucker. "I told you, your reasons for using and mine are different. I don't do it for fun...I do it to function. Calm-X is the one I need the most often. Psycho, Buffout, that's all just garbage if you ask me."

"You don't ever do it just t unwind? Not even once and a while?" Hancock pushed, popping some Mentats in his mouth and continuing to search through his bag.

"No. Not ever."

"Well then...What about the smooch?"

"It keeps me mellow. Keeps my head quiet. I don't smoke it straight and I don't really smoke down here. It's more of a light alternative to the Calm-X." She answered. What did she expect, he was a junkie, and junkies never understood.

"Ever try this? Hancock asked, pulling a bottle out of his pack and tossing it to Silver.

Silver examined the bottle. Clear and covered with a fine layer of dirt, the bottle contained an offensively orange liquid.

"Daddy-O? Yeah...once or twice. I experimented with a lot of things before I found the right chems and combinations to keep me stable..."

"You wanna hit? I'll trade you for a taste of that jet you have."

Silver examined the bottle with mild interest. She didn't need it. She knew she didn't need it. But God did she want it. Daddy-O wasn't part of her normal regiment but it did have its advantages. It was a tremendous distraction from her racing thoughts, and maybe it would help distract her from the searing pain in her stomach. There didn't seem to be a downside.

"Yeah...ok. A trade. But just one hit."

"Deal."

"The jet is in my duffel." Silver instructed him, examining the consistency of the Daddy-O.

"I know, probably could have lifted it from you anytime, but petty theft isn't really my style."

"What would your constituents think?" Silver asked with a bit of a smirk.

"Exactly," Hancock grinned back at her and retrieved the jet canister You got any needles for that?"

"No need. I'll do it the old fashioned way."

Hancock flopped down in the chair and took a deep huff of the specialized jet. "Suit yourself…"

Silver tilted her head back against the arm of the chaise. She held her eye open and dropped the liquid in, then again to the other eye. A soft elongated "Ahh" escaped her lips and she blinked lazily as the chem began to take the edge off.

"Doesn't that sting?"

"A bit…"

It was quiet then. The two of them were content to enjoy the effects of their chems washing over them. Silence didn't last long with Hancock around though.

"So...what do you do when you encounter ferals on the road?"

"What?"

"Feral ghouls, there's no shortage of the poor bastards here in the Commonwealth. I'd be willing to bet they had a few back home...so how do you deal with them on the road?"

"Oh…It depends...if we're prepared for them, in an area we know to expect them I can prepare myself. Find a defensible position or some high ground and I help take them out. If we get surprised though..."

"You switch off, like back at the office building..."

"Sometimes I shut down, sometimes I go into a frenzy, sometimes I run and hide. I never know how I'll react. I'm not in control when I'm like that. I'm not me anymore."

Silver reached across the coffee table, holding out her hand expectantly. Hancock only stared at it vacantly. After an almost embarrassing amount of time passed, the ghoul realized she wanted her jet. He swapped the canister for the bottle of Daddy-O with a forlorn sigh.

"That is a grade A chem…you'll have to give me the name of your dealer."

"Doctor."

"Huh?"

"I get them from a doctor, not a dealer. I told you, they aren't for fun."

"I see…and your sister knows you use?"

Silver snorted in contempt. She shook the canister and took two puffs from the mouth piece, one deeper than the other. She was still shivering, and had begun to sweat as well. Clearly she was coming down with something and she made a mental note to go to the med bay in the morning for an immune booster. A tiny wave of relief rushed over her as the specialized jet worked its way into her system, but not enough to make her forget her discomfort.

"Who do you think got me started? It was her idea back in capital. Mum and dad didn't know what to do with me after the incident…chems seemed as good a solution as any."

"But…she got pissed as a wet cat when she saw that jet."

"Yeah. She decided I didn't need to be medicated anymore…thought I had become too dependant on the chems. Practically ordered me to stop. I lied and told her I'm off of them. She probably knows better than that but I think she wants to buy into the lie for a little while.

Hancock frowned. "She sure didn't have a problem doping you up when she needed to."

"No. She sure didn't."

Hancock seemed to pick up on the fact that this conversation was putting her on edge, so he changed the subject. "You said you worked triage back in the waste? What the hell did you mean?"

"Anyone from capital can tell you the whole bloody place is practically a war zone. No shortage of medical work to be done."

"Yeah, that much I get. Who did you humpty-dumpty for?"

Silver wrapped the blanket tighter around herself and wiped the sweat from her forehead. "A mercenary group, The Two Bit Brothers. After I travelled with dad's caravan for a while I got good with a rifle and I realized there was better money out there to be made… I up and split on them. Practically disappeared except for the caps I would send back. It was all I could think to do to repay them for everything they had done for me."

Hancock eyed her critically. "You took up with mercs?"

"I said I was a gun for hire. Why should this surprise you?"

"You did. I just thought you meant for caravans. How did you get to triage then?"

"When they saw I had a bit of a talent for keeping people alive they moved me to a field medic and then triage. They moved me back and forth from the field to the medical center as needed. It was hectic but…I don't know, fulfilling."

"These mercs...what kind of work did they take?" Hancock questioned further.

Silver's stomach lurched. "Is this where I'm supposed to defend my choices to you? Tell you we protected the weak and killed the wicked and never did anything wrong? Well things are a little messier in the wastes than they are here. We took the work we could get. Most of the time we were hired out by people just looking for a bit of extra protection, but we knocked over caravans and crossed out raider gangs, and sometimes we got paid to help gangs take each other out. We didn't raid settlements or attack the defenseless, but we weren't always on the up and up either."

After a beat Silver felt obligated to defend herself. "I'm not proud of everything I did with them, but I can't regret it either. I did what I had to."

Hancock poured himself another splash of whiskey and tipped it back down his throat. He seemed to be thinking over his next move. "People say a gun in the commonwealth, is an opportunity. A gun in the wastes is a necessity. I guess they aren't kidding."

Silver tucked her knees under her chin. "They aren't kidding."

Silver took a third puff of jet then discarded the canister onto the floor. She had hoped for another burst of relief but instead her discomfort swelled in her gut. She thought she had reached her limit and was going to lose her dinner right there but the wave crested and feel inside of her and she managed to keep it down.

Chems had never made her feel worse before. Maybe she needed to talk to the doctor about getting some Addictol, just to be on the safe side. She knew the danger's of withdraw, and while this didn't feel the same, it was possible that's what she was experiencing. She checked her watch and saw that it was nearly dawn.

She stood up, careful not to lose her hold on the blanket, and gestured towards the door. "Come on. Should be some beds free by now. I'll show you where," she announced with a bit of a cough.

Hancock stood to follow her but a sudden flicker of surprise in his eyes stopped Silver before she turned around.

"Hey, you've got uh…you've sprung a leak there doll," he said, sounding a bit confused as well as concerned.

"I-Wha-" Silver began, but then saw the droplets of blood that had landed on the blanket. Her fingers flew to her upper lip and she flinched when she felt the blood leaking from her nose. "What the hell?"

Hancock looked around for something to staunch the bleeding. "Do you get nose bleeds easy like?"

Silver opened her mouth to answer but stopped dead when she tasted blood. A barrage of dizziness crashed against the back of her skull. It pulled and tugged at her knees. Her vision tunneled and the pain in her stomach rose as if it was ready to rupture.

She knew she was falling but she couldn't will her body to right itself or brace for impact, then she felt her head knock against the floor. She was vaguely aware of the taste of blood and bile in her throat. She thought she heard Hancock curse, then there was nothing.