Author's Note: There's some heavy shit in this chapter. So, a warning; if torture is not your thing, I don't blame you, but go ahead and skip this one. I won't take offence, I promise. The song from this chapter is:

"Be-Bop-A-Lula" - Gene Vincent


The music was the first thing that seeped into his brain.

Feeling was a slow warmth throughout his body. He tested his fingers, his toes, making sure they were all there before he tried to open his eyes. It took him a few moments of muffled grunting to pry them open, and the light was so bright that he recoiled, slamming his skull into the back of the chair. Pain flashed through his head, kicking a primal fear into his veins. His entire body tightened as he tried to move, but couldn't.

The second thing that blazed was his thigh. The hole was as he remembered before he'd been knocked out, and the sight made him heave and shut his eyes. Oh, God, he was going to die here. This was it. This was it this was it this was…

No, be calm. Mercury said to be calm and say nothing. Shh, just open your eyes.

As the throbbing in his head subsided, he carefully opened his eyes. They burned, but he forced them, seeing through the haze that his wrists were tied to the arms of a chair. He began to panic, twisting and digging the rope further into his skin in a desperate attempt to get free. His legs were similarly tied, rendering him completely useless. His eyes focused, pulling his attention to the room around him.

This was it this was it this was this was it this was it this was-

He had no idea where he was or how he got here. He thought he was in a basement from the musty smell and the crude stone walls, but he wasn't sure. There was nothing but one light above him and the door; no windows, no vents, nothing. Fear raced through him; he could feel it on the back of his neck.

The door burst open as though it were kicked in, and he shrinks in on himself as best he can. He catches only boots before someone was on him, driving their fist into his face. Someone – a man – yells at his attacker and pulls them off of him. He whimpers as his nose bleeds into his throat. A rough male voice curses, shaking his now bleeding fist.

"You got some nerve, kid," the man growls, wiping his blood on his pants. He looks up, seeing a yellow-eyed robot staring at him from the edge of the light. He's afraid to look his capturer in the eyes.

"Please," he begins, but it silenced by a combat knife to his throat. He's forced to meet black eyes set in a charred skull, thin lips pulled back into a sinister sneer. God, no…

"Hancock, I-" he squeaks, but is immediately silenced when the mayor plunges his knife into the hole in his leg. He screams, white agony threatening to knock him out again. He thinks about his family before he prepares to die.

"John!" the synth snaps again, and Hancock reluctantly slides the blade from his flesh.

"I'm gonna ask you a question, and you're gonna tell me the truth. I don't like it, I take a fingernail. Are we clear?" the ghoul growls, hovering that knife just under his eye. He begins to cry, his trembling shaking lose the tears he'd been trying to hold back. He nods.

"You're Lei Fian?" is the first question, and he nods. Before he can look back up, Hancock had slid his blade under his thumb nail and pried. Blackness snaked into his vision again. Something is stuck into his arm; he's forced awake. When he opens his eyes, a syringe dangles from his skin, and he recognizes the PsychoJet. They'd never let him die.

"You're gonna answer 'yes, sir' or 'no, sir' and nothing else. I wanna hear your fucking voice," he snaps, flicking the blood off the knife and onto the floor. He whimpers out a "yes, sir" before another nail is lost. The robot in the hat leans again the wall, eyes glowing like embers that never left his face.

"You were in Goodneighbor last night with your raider band. Made a real fucking mess for the boys in the bar before getting kicked to the streets," Hancock leans his weight on the chair, and if he'd had a nose, it'd been touching his. The chair trembles.

"Yes, sir," Lei stutters, tears and snot and blood running from his face.

"Your leader has a problem with me. Didn't have the fucking stones to solve shit like adults, so she went after someone I cared about." Another meek "yes, sir" from the captive.

"You were the one who held her face to the firepit. Tried to burn the skin from her skull as the rest of your fucking gang hauled ass and left you to take the bullet," his eyes were burning with so much rage, it was like he was back there, in Goodneighbor, putting all his weight on the woman to keep her down, close to the fire.

"I was j-just following orders! They were going to kill my sist-" he's cut off as the blade digs under his index finger's nail, flicking it off with a solid, fluid motion. Another flash of white agony, another syringe in his arm.

"I don't fucking care about your sob story!" the ghoul thunders, gripping the weapon so tightly that his hand shakes. "My friend is in Diamond City, getting her face sewn back on because you and your little fucknut gang wanted to get back at me, is that right?"

A skeletal hand tugs the ghoul back a step, and he thanks whatever god was out there for this robot. Hancock's his knuckles were turning white around the blade.

"Please…" he sputters, watching numbly as blood pours onto the concrete floor. He was covered in sweat and tears and urine, his head hanging limply to his chest.

Hancock snarls, running his fingers over his head in an anxious mantra. He begins to pace around the chair, eyes tightly shut and palms digging into his forehead. The silence broken only by Lei's pathetic whimpers and that fucking music.

After an eternity, the mayor stops his pacing and looks down at him.

"You're going to give me that shirt, your gun, your boots. Then, you're getting out of here, and if I ever hear even the smallest rumor that you're back, I'm going to skin you alive and send you home in a shoebox. Are we clear?"

He nods, but the tip of the blade finds his chin. Through his tears, he locks eyes with the ghoul again.

"My friend and I are coming for the rest of you. We will rain a holy fucking atom bomb down on you until Jupiter's head is on my desk. You wanna live? Get out of the Commonwealth and don't you ever think of coming back."

He watches in shocked pain as the ropes are sawed through, his arms bleeding from the tightness of the bonds. The ghoul was facing a wall, the door was open, he only had one chance to warn his boss of Hancock's bloodlust, maybe get himself another month to pack and leave. His legs are too weak to stand, but he limps towards the door all the same.

"You got ten seconds to get the fuck out of my sight," Hancock bellows when he enters the hallway.

He's just reached the exit when he hears "ten" echo around the walls.

He's closed the door before a bullet bounces on the other side, denting the metal where his heart would have been.