SORRY! Sorry about the shitty updating. Work has me, well, working. It was a mistake to tell them I'm pretty decent at Technical/Business writing, haha. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks for the follows, reviews, and favorites! I'm pleased as punch.
The sight of Goodneighbor's newly repaired gates was a sight for sore eyes as Betty and Hancock hobbled back into town, Courser chip in hand. He insisted that they have Dr. Amari examine the piece of Institute tech before crossing the Glowing Sea once more, though Betty didn't understand why Virgil couldn't examine the chip himself.
"God damn, it's good to be home," Hancock announced as they stepped through the gates. "Back from the depths of Hell itself!"
A few of the town's citizens cheered at their mayor's return and he tore off his captain's hat before bowing at the waist.
"Dramatic much?" Betty asked under her breath as she held back her laughter.
"Thought you'd be used to it by now," Hancock answered before he shoved Betty forward. "Your turn, General."
The small crowd cheered for Betty as well and she lifted her hand in a wave, a burn searing itself into her cheeks. Hancock pressed his face against the nape of her neck with a chuckle, enjoying his girl's remaining timidness. One day, her confidence would match or even surpass his own but until then, he would savor the sight of her flush before it disappeared forever.
"I think they like ya more than they like me," Hancock whispered. "Won't hold it against ya if they ask ya to run against me for the mayoral title. Don't plan on winning it, though."
"Oh don't worry, leading the Minutemen is more than enough for me. I'd rather you take charge of the anarchist town," Betty replied, taking his hand. She hardly believed her own words, and laughed to herself as she leaned into his shoulder.
The crowd dispersed in a hurry as heavy footsteps thundered from behind the shops, and Strong lumbered over to the pair before he held out his fist to Hancock, who bumped it with a hearty laugh. The super mutant glanced at Betty with a grunt and offered his knuckles to her as well.
"Fearless leader, Strong tired of boring town," the super mutant growled. "Strong must find milk! Skinny human too drunk to look with Strong!"
"That's...not a word I'd use to describe the place, but that's just me," Hancock replied. "Workin' on the milk thing, though. Tell ya what: Betty and I gotta head back into the Glowing Sea soon. Plenty of shit to kill out there and maybe, we find you some milk."
The super mutant's grin was menacing and he nodded. "Soon?"
"Soon, brother. You break anythin' else since we've been gone?"
Strong barked out a laugh, startling both Betty and Hancock before he answered, "Strong break many things."
"Good thing MacCready's payin' for it," said the ghoul. He turned to Betty and said, "C'mon, love. Let's get that chip to Amari, see what she says."
Once they were out of earshot from Strong, Betty glared at Hancock and asked, "You're not serious about taking Strong with us, are you?"
"Why the hell not? If I keep his ass cooped up in here for too long, there won't be anything left standing in town when we come back. 'Sides, might be for the best to see if he listens to us. If he can't, might have to put him down," he explained. "And I don't wanna do it in front of the kid."
Betty swallowed hard and replied, "Your judgement's been sound so far, so...he should come along. Having a super mutant on our side would be a hell of an advantage."
"Got that right."
When Hancock opened the door to the Memory Den the pair found Nick laying across Irma's couch, his head in her lap while Irma lovingly stroked his face, as the synth flipped through the latest edition of Publick Occurrences.
"Nice to see you both in one piece," quipped the detective without looking up. "Trip went well?"
"Nice to see ya gettin' laid on the regular," Hancock replied with a grin as he and Betty walked past. "Did just fine out there. Don't mind us."
Nick rolled his eyes and smiled up at Irma, who returned the sentiment with a kiss upon his forehead. The front page caught the ghoul's eye and he yanked the newspaper out of the synth's hands.
"I was reading that, if ya didn't notice," said Nick with a heavy sigh.
Hancock could hardly contain himself as he held out the paper to Betty and shouted, "How fuckin' great is this?!"
Splattered across the front page was a picture of herself and Hancock sitting beside one another on Piper's couch, his arm wrapped around her shoulder as he bit down on a cigarette with a bold grin. She studied the woman in the photo, who she knew to be her, and was blown away by who sat pretty beside a very handsome and regal ghoul. Hands folded neat in her lap and her legs tucked beneath, her high, black ponytail seemed stark against her shaved head, even more so in black and white. Inked up, scarred up, and a coat as garish as Hancock's, she certainly matched alongside him.
Beneath the photo, the headline read:
The Future of the Commonwealth?
Exclusive Interviews with the Commonwealth's Finest Vanguards
"Jesus," Betty breathed as her ghoul handed her the newspaper. "That can't be me. I look-"
"-Gorgeous! God fuckin' help me, you runnin' around the Commonwealth lookin' the way ya do. And I ain't too shabby, either. Damn kid got the wrong side of me, though..how'd Mayor Lardass take it?" Hancock asked Nick as he nudged his friend's arm with his boot.
Nick shook his head as he sat up and explained, "As ya might guess, he didn't take it too well. Tried to ban the paper outright and when Piper refused like she always does, he slammed her with some hefty fines. RJ & I helped her pay 'em off, so she's all right now."
Hancock glanced at Betty and said, "Remind me to send the reporter some funds. Ain't right she took the hit for me like that."
"I want to help," Betty insisted without hesitation.
He shook his head. "My fault, I got it."
"I wasn't asking," she replied.
Hancock crossed his arms, clearing his throat as he leaned against Irma's couch and tipped back his captain's hat. "...Eighty/twenty."
It was Betty's turn to laugh and she shook her head. The corners of his mouth lifted just enough for her notice and they shared a silent stare down for a brief moment.
"Sixty/forty," and when his girl didn't budge for a second time, he growled, "All right, even split it is and I don't wanna hear 'nother word about it. Anything else, Nick?"
"Your brother also tried to burn most of the issues but the city was so fascinated over Betty's story, most of the residents refused to hand over their copies. Some even questioned why he felt so threatened over the article."
"My story?" Betty asked, her brows arched high.
Nick chuckled and answered, "Yes, your story. By the way, you're only allowed into Diamond City if security escorts ya. And John? If security catches you, you're to be shot on sight."
Betty slapped a hand to her forehead while Hancock rubbed his hands together with a devilish grin. "Oh, Pat must be really pissed. Never gave the order to flat out snuff me before."
"You gonna tell me more about your trip? Did you find that rogue scientist of yours?" asked the detective.
Betty opened her mouth to answer when Hancock clamped his hand over her lips and said, "Went great; Birdie beat the livin' shit out of an Institute Courser. Tell ya more about it later, cool?"
"Huh...all right. Oh, I left those pictures ya asked for on your desk," Nick said with a nod towards Hancock. "Took Ellie forever to dig 'em up."
The ghoul bumped Nick's fist with a wink and led Betty downstairs to Amari's office.
"What pictures?" Betty asked at the bottom of the stairwell. "And why didn't you want to tell Nick the whole story?"
"You'll love 'em, don't worry," he assured her. "As far as not mentioning everything to Nicky...that Kellogg incident is still fresh and we ain't sayin' shit to anyone 'til we get this chip sorted out. You are gettin' inside the Institute and no one is gonna stop ya if I can help it."
The doctor scribbled onto a clipboard as she looked up and noticed the pair step into her office, hands intertwined and the Sole Survivor's head on his shoulder. It seemed the mayor had claimed his beloved prize and Betty glowed at the sight of the flashy ghoul. Doctor Amari grew fond of Hancock under his watchful gaze, and believed it was about damn time he found someone sane to settle down with. After several years of questionable and rather embarrassing visits to her office, it appeared the mayor had finally met his match.
"You're back! The Glowing Sea..Virgil..what happened?" asked Dr. Amari.
Betty shrugged and replied, "Oh, you know. Took a radiation bath, hung out with another big, green guy. Then, I ripped this encoded chip out of a Courser's head-"
She held up the Courser chip and Dr. Amari's eyes widened.
"-Yeah, he wasn't too happy about that shit," said Hancock. "Oh man, and we fucked up a shit-ton of Gunners and there was a synth-"
"-A..a Courser chip? You fought a Courser? Oh..oh my god." Amari's look of wonderment withered and with sorrowful eyes, she added, "Unfortunately, I can't help you. I'm not sure if Mayor Hancock had disclosed this to you yet...but I've worked on a lot of synths. But never a Courser."
"No, no, John didn't mention anything of the sort.." Betty said with a glare at Hancock, who shoved himself behind a memory lounger with a nervous chuckle as he knocked a tray of silver instruments to the floor with a loud clatter.
"Not my place to tell ya, sunshine," he said over the lounger's glass dome.
"Uh huh," Betty answered, nodding her head.
Dr. Amari threw her hands up and said, "I don't know what that chip does, or even how to decode such a thing. But there are people who might. I...work with a group that, well, they're the only ones I know who even have a chance at cracking Institute security. They're called the Railroad."
"Thank you, Doctor. How do I find them?" asked Betty.
"I can't contact them directly. They usually come to me, when they have a synth that's escaped the Institute and wants to get new memories. But I do have this code phrase of sorts, a clue if I ever needed to find them. 'Follow the Freedom Trail.'"
"Freedom Trail?" Betty asked. "You mean the trail around the city pointing out places of early American history? One of the markers is outside Goodneighbor. You know, for your house, John."
Hancock and Doctor Amari glanced at each other and the ghoul cracked a smile. "That's what those are? Never bothered to read any of 'em before."
Betty crossed her arms with a huff and said, "Wanna say that again, maybe with some truth peppered on top? You're telling me that the only history buff in the room has no idea what those markers are?"
Hancock coughed out a laugh as he rubbed the back of his head and replied, "Mighta..mighta read somethin' about 'em.."
With a tut, Betty turned away from her ghoul, took the doctor's hand in her own and assured her, "You have my word that I won't mention your role to anyone. You've done so much for me, and the least I can do is keep your secret."
"Thank you, General. Please stay safe out there," said Amari. "The Institute and the Railroad have been at each other's throats for years. Once you find the Railroad, you will pose an even greater threat to them, and they'll be sure to come after you both."
"It'll be the biggest mistake of their lives," said Hancock.
As worn as the old couch in Hancock's office was, it was comparable to the finest piece of furniture Betty could imagine as she sank into the cushions. Soft things were a rarity throughout the wasteland, and she understood why Nick was so fond of anything pleasant to touch. Even Hancock had a penchant for caressing any bit of her bare skin, even while they did the most mundane of things.
"So, are there any other secrets I should be aware of?" Betty asked as Hancock emptied their packs beside his desk.
"None that are mine to tell. You and me? We're good on that front. Just remember, I've been dippin' into all sorts of truces, alliances, and the like for the past decade. A lot of folks trust me to keep certain things under wraps. In time, you'll be doin' the same."
The ghoul's dark eyes fell on a folder sitting atop his desk and his grin was wide.
"Heh, been lookin' forward to this particular trip down memory lane," said Hancock as he sifted through the photos within the folder. With a smile, he handed Betty the folder and said, "Top one's my favorite. Don't tell the girl I showed ya; she'd have my head on a platter."
Betty flipped the folder open and threw her head back with a laugh when she saw a younger, post-ghoul Hancock with a pre-teen Fahrenheit sitting atop his shoulders as they both flexed, the ghoul's tricorn hat perched on his ward's head and her muscles only a wish back then.
"She was tryin' to help me be taller," he explained with a laugh. "Who would've thought she'd tower over everyone in the damn Commonwealth not even a year after this picture."
Betty examined the photo closely and mentioned, "She had the burn on her face back then? For some reason, I believed it was more recent."
Hancock's dark eyes narrowed and he growled, "Pimp burned her when she tried to run away before I showed up. Wish there was some way to bring that cocksucker back to life so I could murder his ass all over again."
"You really love her, don't you?" asked Betty as she nudged his side.
Hancock nodded and replied, "Like my own. Best damn kid anyone could ever ask for. And when we find Shaun, we'll have two of those."
She kissed his cheek before the next picture forced a hard lump into Betty's throat. It wasn't Hancock who sat beside Nick Valentine, boots propped up on the detective's desk, but a young John McDonough. She thumbed over his smooth face; wild, curled hair rolled into a messy bun high on his head, but his wide and charming smile remained the same to present day.
She wiped away the tears that welled up and whispered, "Handsome then, still handsome now."
Hancock smiled. "Man, I sure was a son of a bitch back then."
"A bad boy with a heart of gold? How very cliché," Betty teased.
"It was the truth. But you see why I wouldn't want ya to turn on purpose? If it happens on its own, that's one thing and of course I'd still be crazy about ya, but it'd be a crime to turn someone beautiful into a rottin' mess like me."
"But becoming a 'rotten mess' means I get a few centuries with you, and I'd rather have that over a few decades of smooth skin," Betty replied.
"What if I found a way to change back, if Virgil's serum works and he does me a solid?" he asked. "Would ya still love me?"
"You know I would. Let's say Virgil can make something for you. What if it's not permanent, you turn back..and you're not the same Hancock?" asked Betty.
"You mean feral?"
She nodded, her face grim. "I won't make it, not without you."
"Don't say that-"
"-I am because it's true. A world without John Hancock is not a world I want to live in. It's...it's not right."
Her ghoul gave her a slow nod, and after a moment of silence he promised, "You have my word that I won't look for a way to turn back, so long as you give me yours you won't turn on purpose. Won't stop me from tryin' to find a way around this, though."
She smiled and whispered, "You have mine."
When Betty flipped to the last picture, Hancock leaned over her shoulder and asked, "Who do ya think I look like? Nicky swears I'm a carbon copy of my Pop, inside and out, but I think I look more like Ma."
A wasteland family family of four posed beside one of the gardens in Diamond City. Hancock looked to be no more than fifteen or sixteen in the photograph, leaning against a fence post with a cigarette tucked behind his ear. The elder McDonough brother sulked beside him with a sour face and an impressive beer belly for a young man. His mother had a softness to her round face that was almost cherub-like and his father stood proud beside her, arm around her waist with the same, charming smile her love inherited. Indeed, Hancock's father was jaw-droppingly handsome and Betty grinned at the unmistakable resemblance.
"Definitely your father," she answered.
"Nick took this maybe..a few months after we moved to Diamond City. He and Pop were best friends, and then he got stuck with my ass after Pop passed. Ma followed a few weeks after."
"..What happened to them?"
Hancock didn't answer right away and Betty regretted asking such a hard question when he explained, "Pop's drinking habit put mine to shame. Pretty sure that's what did it. After he died, Ma did too, on the inside. Wouldn't eat or do much of anything. Said me and Pat would be fine without her, that we were grown men and we didn't need her anymore. She wanted to be with Pop. I was pissed back then...but ever since I met ya, I understand why she felt that way, because I feel it now."
She kissed his rough cheek and whispered, "You're still screwed for all that fibbing earlier...and not in the fun way."
"Figured that."
Returning her attention to the photo, Betty mentioned, "Your brother looks the same, just older."
Pictures in hand, Hancock walked over to his desk and slid them into a drawer with care. One day, he'd get around to framing them, whether Fahrenheit liked it or not, along with the newspaper. "Yeah, Pat was always a fat sack of shit. Enjoys Fancy Lads Snack Cakes a little bit too much, which normally ain't an issue 'less ya sit around on your ass all day like him. Seein' us in the paper probably made his heart rate jump higher than it's been in decades."
"You're upset," Betty said, turning around on the cushions to face him. "You always do that."
"Do what?"
"Joke around when something bothers you. Spill it."
Hancock paced around his office in silence for some time until he plopped down beside Betty with a frown. He tossed his captain's hat onto the couch across from the pair and propped his boots up on the coffee table, kicking aside the various chems and empty bottles his guards had never gotten around to tidying up.
"What fuckin' good are these minions if they don't even clean up after me?" he muttered under his breath before he faced Betty and said, "Patrick wants me dead, all 'cause I infiltrated his shitty town. Only family I got left wants me dead. It's fucked on so many levels."
Betty took his hand. What was there to say? As an only child, she never faced any sibling rivalry, and was often lonesome growing up without a brother or sister.
"You still have Fahrenheit and Nick," she murmured.
"And you," he replied with a soft grin. "Shaun, too, when he gets thrown into the mix." Hancock chuckled and added, "Man, our family is a fuckin' freak show like no other."
Following the freedom trail proved more difficult than expected for Betty and Hancock, with the sheer amount of super mutants infesting the area, though Hancock's brand new combat shotgun did most of the work for them, and with relative ease. The trail lead them to the Old North Church, which still stood tall and beautiful. Inside, however, the church had been torn apart, with feral ghouls taking up residence within the church's crypt.
After putting down feral ghoul after feral ghoul in a tightly enclosed space, the pair was out of breath, and though Hancock felt uneasy, he resisted the urge to take Jet. He could do without Betty's mild look of disapproval.
"Hurry it up with the damn puzzle already!" Hancock urged Betty. "This place is makin' me jumpy."
Betty turned a large, stone dial and used it to spell out the word 'Railroad', as every marker they came across during their walk highlighted a specific letter. With every correct choice, a resounding click could be heard.
"Pretty sure it was that hit of Psycho you took after I warned you it would be a bad idea," she replied.
"Yeah, yeah...that shit hasn't been hittin' as good lately. Might stick to booze for a while," said Hancock.
Holding her breath, Betty pressed the center of the seal after choosing each letter, a door hidden in the wall beside the seal slid open. She brought her assault rifle to her shoulder and was baffled when Hancock shook his head and pulled the rifle's barrel downward.
"Keep it handy, but these ain't the sorta folks you wanna point a gun at right away," he whispered.
"Follow your lead?" she asked him, and her ghoul nodded before he walked through the doorway.
It was pitch black as Betty held the tail-end of Hancock's coat, her free hand on her rifle, and the pair shuffled forward until they were blinded by a burning white light. She held back her startled yelp as Hancock shielded his eyes, his arm reaching back for her.
"Stop right there!" a woman with auburn hair ordered, her voice stern.
And she was not alone. Another woman stood to the left of her, snowy, white hair falling across her eyes and a massive minigun in hand. On the woman's right, a young man in a newsboy cap, pointing a rifle Betty had never seen before.
"You both went through a lot of effort to get here, but before we go any further, answer my questions," said the woman. "Who the hell are you?"
Hancock lifted his hands and said, "Mayor Hancock, Goodneighbor...but I ain't the one ya wanna talk to."
He moved to the side and Betty stepped out from behind his protective stance, her eyes falling to the minigun pointed at them. Somehow, she believed that meeting with the Railroad would be less dangerous than meeting with the Brotherhood of Steel...and man, was she ever wrong.
The woman cocked her head with new interest and looked to Betty. "And you?"
"General Betty Parker..Commonwealth Minutemen. We followed the Freedom Trail to look for the Railroad. I'm not your enemy," Betty explained. At least her voice sounded stronger than she felt.
"If that's true, then you have nothing to fear. Who told you how to contact us?" the woman asked.
Betty shook her head and said, "I don't want to get anyone into trouble, so you're out of luck-"
"-And don't bother askin' me, I ain't a snitch," Hancock added with a dismissing wave.
The woman nodded and replied, "We'll find out one way or another. Last question: Why are you here?"
The certainty of the woman's words didn't make Betty feel any better about the situation with Amari. If she were punished or killed for attempting to help, the Brotherhood of Steel wouldn't be the only faction to possibly burn to the ground. For now, Betty decided the truth was best, at least for this question in particular, and explained, "I found a Courser chip. Can your people decode it?"
"You have what?!" shouted the woman. "This is not a joking matter!"
The woman's two companions glanced at each other with wide eyes. It seemed that murdering a Courser was not an every day occurrence at the Railroad and Betty wasn't sure whether that weighed in her favor or made her an even larger threat.
She hoped with all her might that it was the former.
A dark-haired man about Betty's age walked into the crypt, wearing only a simple white t-shirt, faded blue jeans, and a pair of sunglasses. At first glance, Betty was reminded of the greaser types she hung out with during her reckless youthful days.
The man held his hand over his chest with a short gasp and said to the woman, "I didn't know we were having a party! What gives with my invitation? Oh! I see you invited the Courser killer. Nice. 'Sup, Hancock!"
"What's goin' on, my man? Haven't seen ya 'round town in a minute," Hancock replied, and both men raised their fists with cheesy grins as if to bump them from clear across the crypt.
The man chuckled and answered, "Oh...I was around. All over, really. Near some vault, D-City, your neck of the woods, some fort, another fort, Bunker Hill.."
As the man continued to count off all the places he's been in recent months, Betty's blood ran cold when she realized he'd been following her since she left the vault.
"Deacon! ..You're late. Are you saying this intruder actually killed a Courser? Without more backup? That would give even Glory a run for her money," scoffed the woman as she nodded toward the heavy hitter with the minigun and white-hot hair.
Deacon grinned and said, "Newsflash boss: This lady is kind of a big deal. If you're done interrogating her, you might wanna show this Courser murdering machine a little courtesy. She's the new Minutemen General, if you didn't know. Just a thought."
"Yes, she mentioned that," the woman replied, her heavy sigh one of frustration and genuine exhaustion. She looked down at Betty and added, "I..owe you an apology. Anyone who kills a Courser is good in my book. I'm Desdemona, and I'm the leader of the Railroad."
"Hopefully we can work something out. I think it'd help across the board," said Betty. "I really need your help with this. The Institute decimated my family, not the nukes that hit Boston, and those bastards will pay dearly."
Desdemona nodded and said, "What you're asking puts us in a tricky position."
"I..have no one else to ask," Betty replied in earnest.
Hancock's hand appeared at her shoulder and he whispered, "We ain't leavin' 'til they give us what you need."
Something about Hancock's words stirred a primal urge within Betty's mind. Perhaps it was how the corner of his lip curled up as he spoke; a ruthless, almost vicious tone of voice. Part of her considered burning down the entire church if Desdemona shunned her request.
Nothing, not a god damn thing, would stop her.
"Dez, we need to let them in," Deacon insisted. "Hancock's always been good to us and she's got an intact Courser chip for God's sake. What the hell more do you want?"
Betty turned to Hancock and whispered, "Wait, you know them?"
"Just Deacon and you-know-who. Never met any of the others 'til now. Hell, I'm pretty sure they didn't expect me to be a ghoul. D likes to...bend the truth."
"Deacon, allowing either of them to enter violates our security protocols," said Desdemona through gritted teeth.
"To hell with it!" Deacon shouted. "She. Killed. A. Courser! There's no way she's working for the Institute; they'd have her head! And Hancock wouldn't vouch for just anyone."
The young man wearing the newsboy cap scoffed and muttered, "Unless he's screwing them.."
Hancock exhaled a sharp breath and gripped his combat shotgun so tight that the ruined skin of his knuckles stretched thin until it was a ghostly white.
After a moment of pensive silence, Desdemona spoke up. "We'll allow you into our headquarters. You two are the first outsiders ever to be given this privilege. We can discuss the details about your chip inside."
The leader of the Railroad and the Minutemen General looked at one another for what felt like ages and a hopeful smile grew on Desdemona's tired face. With the minigun-toting heavy named Glory behind her, Desdemona turned to walk up the stone steps.
When Betty walked past the younger man, he grabbed her wrist and hissed, "Don't try anything, stranger."
Deacon swallowed hard and groaned, "Uh oh."
The butt of Hancock's shotgun slammed into the young man's jaw and he dropped to the ground, a bit dazed from such a forceful assault. Hancock pinned him by the neck and snarled, "Bad fuckin' move...friend."
"John-" Betty began to say, but Hancock held out his hand to silence her.
"-No way, love. It's between me and this prick."
Not wanting a bloodbath to occur moments after coming to an agreement with the elusive faction, Betty turned to Desdemona with pleading eyes.
Desdemona looked back and studied the scene as it unfolded before she called out, "Give them some space, Drummer Boy. We can trust Hancock's judgement. And Deacon's. For now."
Drummer Boy spat out a mouthful of bright, crimson blood and looked up at the ghoul, who wore a most sinister grin, before he scurried after Desdemona and the unknown heavy.
"Not surprised to see you two shackin' up together," Deacon said with a rough pat on Hancock's shoulder.
"You would know, considering you've been following my every move since I left the vault," Betty snapped. "What the hell else do you know? About me? My son?"
Even Hancock glared at Deacon, his grip on his shotgun tightening once again. "You've been doin' what now?"
Deacon held up his hands, looking back and forth at Betty and Hancock before he explained, "Whoa, whoa! The Institute was digging around the vault for a few weeks before General Badass here crawled out. I was following them. Wanted to know what made them so curious. Now it's obvious. They've unleashed a real-life comic book hero, no wonder they're freaking out."
Betty's eyes narrowed at Deacon's response, and that was when she noticed how tight the muscles in his neck were. Stiff shoulders. Deacon was a liar, and she saw right through it.
"Next time your boss asks ya to slink around after us, I'd appreciate a heads up or else-" The end of Hancock's shotgun found its way beneath Deacon's chin and the Railroad agent gulped. "-No amount of plastic surgery is gonna put your fuckin' head back together. You feel me?"
"Yeah, I-I gotcha. Sorry about this reception, too, since you're forcing me to apologize at gunpoint. Again. But when you tango with the Institute you gotta be careful when someone new gets on the dance floor," Deacon explained.
Betty slowly nodded her head. "...Your leader was just being cautious. I can respect that."
"Gettin' real fuckin' tired of people pointing guns at us and insultin' ya, Birdie." Hancock turned to Deacon and added, "I'm gonna feed grenades to the next dumbass who says somethin' rude about her."
"You do your fair share of gun pointing, you know," Betty said to Hancock with a smirk.
"It's different when I do it. I do it outta love and all that."
"Yeaaaaaaah, but it kinda killed our chance-and yours-at a friendly first impression. But it should be all good now. I vouched for you both. Nobody got shot. Still, I would consider it a close, personal favor if you didn't sell us out to the Institute. Because that would fall badly. On me. Please don't," Deacon said to the pair.
Curiosity getting the better of her, Betty asked, "So, why did you vouch for me?"
Deacon smiled, and to Betty's surprise, it was quite kind and genuine. "In our little outfit, it's my job to know things. And with everything you've done it's clear you're capable. A dangerous enemy. And, I'm betting, a valuable ally."
Hancock nudged her side as he lit a cigarette and said, "See, I ain't the only one."
"Why the trust?" asked Betty. "You can't be taking it all on faith."
With a shrug, Deacon answered, "I don't. I don't know if we can trust you. But I hope we can. We trust Hancock..sorta...and we also just survived a hell of a crisis. So, we may be just a teeny, weeny bit desperate for new members. If everything was sunshine and bottle caps, we'd probably play a longer 'getting to know you' game."
"I don't like games," she said.
"Well, it's a good thing we don't have that luxury, then," Deacon replied, his voice cheery as he shifted his weight from foot to foot, never breaking eye contact with Betty.
Betty was onto something with Deacon, Hancock had figured that much by now. He'd never seen her be so cold with someone she'd just met. Usually, she was the ray of sunshine when meeting someone new, but there was something about Deacon in particular that pestered her. He couldn't wait to watch as she lost her shit on a smart ass, and for once, it wouldn't be him.
"Anything else you'd like to mention?" she asked.
Deacon barked out a laugh and answered, "You just don't give up, do you? All right, I have a short list of people I think would be a good fit for the family here. You piqued my interest, so maybe I asked around. Did my homework. If you hadn't found us, there's a chance I would've found you instead. Thanks for saving me the trip."
"Do you know what I did for a living before the bombs fell?" she asked.
"Sure have a lot of questions for me, huh?" Deacon asked with a grin.
"Stop fucking around and answer me."
Deacon laughed heartily, rubbing his hand over his chin before he turned to her and replied, "Nope. Not a clue. What's up with the third degree?"
"You're a god damn liar, and if you don't answer correctly, I might go the 'Hancock' route and shoot my way through your secret club if you don't play nice. You know the answer, so say it."
Hancock raised his brow and said, "Birdie-"
"-Stay the hell out of this."
The cigarette fell from Hancock's lips and he gulped. "Holy shit, all right."
It was the hottest thing anyone had ever said to him, and Hancock knew right then that he was staring at his future wife.
"You were an attorney. Public Defender, if you'd rather hear specifics. Had quite the reputation for being 'unnecessarily aggressive' in court. Very nice," said Deacon with a wink. "And you know that's no bullshit."
"Not in the slightest," Betty replied. "I'd prefer a little less deception, if you want me to trust you."
Deacon held out his hand and said with the utmost confidence, "I'm not one to hold grudges. If you help my family, I promise I won't ever screw you over. If that's not the truth, Hancock can shoot me. Deal?"
"Deal," and Betty shook Deacon's hand.