It had been six weeks since their first night in Bunker Hill, and Hancock still didn't have a plan.
Bunker Hill paid the bandits off to avoid attacks, but there we're still plenty of them camping out in ruins nearby causing trouble for folks. Now, it was against Bunker Hill's policy to pay mercenaries to kill these raiders, as that might constitute as hostile behavior. But, there was no such policy about paying high dollar for raider guns, armor, ammo...so, that's what they had been doing for the last few weeks. Venture outside the walls, pick a building that looked occupied, bust up whatever was inside, get paid.
It wasn't exactly easy living, but it was something for the time being at least. Sometimes they stayed in the rented room, sometimes they spent the night in the bombed out buildings surrounded by dead raiders, location didn't matter so long as they were warm, dry, and had all the sugar bombs they could want.
And there were other nasty things about to kill. Super mutants, berserk bots, mole rats when they got hungry. The caps were decent and it wasn't long before they had scraped together a pretty penny. Unfortunately the area wasn't full of prime real estate. Raiders seemed to prefer to make their camps in army bases and factories or shopping centers. Not knocked down suburbs. It didn't take long for them to clear most of the nasties out.
"These caps aren't going to last if we keep eating them up on ammo and rent H.C., we need to move on," Silver mumbled, trying and failing to push her boot on.
She was already miles ahead of Hancock, who was still laying on the floor, tangled in his blanket.
"Yeah," he groaned, rubbing his face.
"We need to do something."
"Yeah…"
"Are you even listening to me?"
"What? Yeah. I'm just thinking. Could head into Cambridge. They may not be interested in paying us so far out n' all, but I bet we can find something out there worth our time."
Silver cringed. "Cambridge?"
"Yeah, I know you aren't keen on it...but, think of it this way. Would you rather face synths or ferals?"
"Synths," she spit out, slamming her other boot on.
"Thought so. Less ghouls towards Cambridge."
Silver frowned as she gathered her hair into a ponytail. "Why don't we go South?"
Hancock sat up and scratched the back of his neck. "Eh, well, that's..."
"Towards Goodneighbor, I know, so what? That's your town right?"
"Yeah," Hancock mumbled, "but...I'm just thinking it's not the right time to head back just yet."
Silver sighed and let her hair fall out of frustration. "What's going on H.C.? What are you running from? Are you in some kind of trouble back home?"
"Nah, nothin' like that really, just got a feeling is all."
The truth was, he didn't have any kind of feeling, and that was the problem. In the months leading up to Nate's arrival in Goodneighbor, Hancock had felt himself growing complacent. Redundant. Paranoid even. All he did was lay on the couch of his statehouse getting so stoned he couldn't feel the boredom. It was more than boredom. Something was slipping away from him. Something had gone missing. He'd lost his drive as well as his heading, and now he was so turned around he wasn't sure where to aim it if he found it again. But helping Silver seemed to make things clearer.
"Alright. You have the lay of the land around here," Silver relented. "Your call. If you really think we should go into Cambridge, we'll go."
"I think it's the right call. I mean, sure, north of Goodneighbor is crawling with raiders, but I'm actually a little worried there are too many of em, even for us. Could end up in some real trouble."
"Hum. So you actually do have some self preservation instinct left in that chem cooked brain of yours," Silver said wryly.
"You're a real barrel of laughs sister..."
"Alright. Guess it's east into Cambridge. But you're going into that crater first this time," she yielded, twisting her hair through her hair tie over and over until it was tightly secured in a ponytail.
Hancock shrugged. "We'll go north, around it."
Silver shook her head. "That'll take too long. You might have hundreds of years to waste, but I don't.
Hancock grinned at her. "Alright, you better have my back though. Ain't cuddling any more ferals for you."
"I will, I will...from way behind you..."
Silver stretched with a little moan. "Long walk to Cambridge. Longer if we run into trouble, which, we will."
"Yeah yeah, like Capital is any better," Hancock groaned out as he stood up and looked for his boots.
"Hey, maybe we should stay over at the hospital. If we keep it cleared out we'll have a safe place to head back to if we run into trouble."
"Not a bad idea. Yeah, let's clear it out huh? Set up a little home away from home."
Hancock located his boots and struggled to get them on without bumping into his partner. Not easy in the small space.
"I'll go gather some intel from the caravans that have been through the area lately. Should be early enough to catch them before they leave."
"You always in a hurry?" Hancock grumbled. "Ain't even had our coffee yet…"
Silver shrugged. "When I know I want something, I go for it. What's the sense in waiting around? Besides, I've had my coffee."
Hancock laughed. "Yeah, okay. Guess I'll go do the shopping then. Meet by the monument?"
"Sounds good," Silver agreed, wrapping her scarf around her neck and grabbing her cloake. "Wear your gloves idiot," she warned him before ducking out the door into the cool air.
It was cute how she cared.
Buying supplies was more expensive now that Silver ate on a regular basis, and her diet was difficult to maintain, but Hancock didn't buck her for it. She looked a lot better now than when he had first met her. She was still a wiry little thing, but her bones no longer pushed against her skin with such force. Her color had improved with time in the sun and fresh air, though she was still whiter than a ghost. The greatest improvement was her mood. She was still quick tempered, prone to griping, and over all too serious, but she seemed lighter. Easier. It was good to see her healthy and strong, and even smiling more.
Hancock stocked up on road food, water, bullets, but they really didn't need much. The Commonwealth had a way of providing if you only worked for it, and he liked to think they did. The only thing Hancock bought not on the usual list, was a nifty, albeit heavy, sniper rifle. It looked rough but he trusted the clerk when he promised it fired. They'd built enough of a rapport over the weeks. It was a bulky ugly thing, but with a little bit of cleaning and polishing it would do just fine, so he set about it in the shop keeper's workshop.
As was the law of the universe, women always took longer to get ready than men. Hancock had finished what he could do with the rifle well before Silver had finished with the caravans. In Silver's defense, her task was harder. Cut through the morning crowd, talk to cranky caravan workers to point her in the direction of the right caravan workers, convince said workers to talk to a strange looking stranger. Cleaning up guns was far preferable. He took up at their usual meeting spot and waited.
When Silver finally reappeared she was already looking disheveled, but her expression wasn't too grim.
"What'd you find out? Anything worth our time?" Hancock asked her, handing over his last cigarette.
"Maybe," she replied, taking the offered vice. "Lexington? You ever see an old Corvega plant that way? Word is there are some nasties holed up over there."
"That's further north than we were thinking ain't it?"
"I got a scaver willing to pay us if we clear it out. Lots of old parts and tools, great for scrap and odds and ends. Must be worth something to someone. And, that pretty green eyed guard that works for Hanby says it looks like there's a lot of them snuggled up in there. Bound to be some caps between them right?"
"Yeah, could be."
"So?"
"Well, what do you think? Pay gonna be worth it?"
"Depends how many of them there really are. And if any of them are decent shots..."
Hancock gave a single sharp laugh. "Yeah, so, roll of the dice kind of deal. Sure. Why not?"
"Works for me," Silver reassured him, exhaling smoke slow and long.
"But we're gonna have to stop and pick up some more of those. You smoke em you scrounge for em," he dogged her.
"Ah! Come on H.C., that's no fair…"
Hancock shrugged. "I'd buy em, but I got you a little somethin' instead," he said, holding out the new long range rifle.
"For little old me huh?" she mumbled, taking it from him and giving it a good look. She seemed pleased enough, it must have passed her inspection.
"You shouldn't have," she teased him with a sly smile on her face. "It's pretty decent, sure it'll come in handy. Thanks."
"Anytime doll. Wanna take her out for a spin?"
"You know I do."
Hancock chuckled and jerked his head towards the city gate. "Lead the way."
Silver turned, took a step, then stopped. Hancock overtook her but she grabbed him by the arm and he stopped alongside her.
"What's up? You forget somethin' or something?"
"No, look."
Hancock scanned the area but didn't really see anything out of the ordinary. Just the usual guards and such.
"Do you see him?" Silver whispered.
"Who?"
"By the guard tower, stupid glasses."
There was a drifter in sun glasses by the tower. Not tall, not short. Not handsome, not ugly. Denim on denim and a handkerchief around his neck. He seemed perfectly nondescript in every way and was minding his own damn business, so Hancock was pretty confused as to why his presence had alarmed Silverfish.
"Uhh, yeah. What about 'im?"
"You recognize him?" Silver asked, her tone a bit too tense.
Hancock snuck a covert glance at his road partner. "Not really. Do you?"
Silver frowned, her brow furrowed in mild concern. "I swear I've seen him before."
"I mean, drifters drift, you probably have seen him around. What's the big deal?"
"I don't know. I've just got this feeling about him. A weird one."
Silver was cautious, but Hancock hadn't known her to be paranoid before. Still, even knowing he trusted her instincts, he had a hard time getting any shady vibes from this stranger that had her so concerned.
"I wouldn't worry about it sister, he's just some drifter or something."
"I'm telling you H.C., he's bad news…"
"Well...guess we'll just keep an eye on him. But you know, he'll probably be gone before we get back to town so..."
"Yeah, you're probably right...let's go."
Getting to the hospital was simple enough. Since they had been keeping the area cleared out there wasn't much of anything to bother them. No mutants, ghouls, not so much as a bloat fly buzzed by. Just quiet, winding, rubble filled streets. The only thing that slowed them down was Silver stopping to take a few test shots with her new toy. It was only shooting cans, but she didn't miss a one.
Of course, all this smooth sailing left them a lot of empty time to fill. Sometimes Hancock could trick Silver into playing a game. If he found something interesting to kick down the street, he'd kick it into her path. She didn't always kick it back. Sometimes she wasn't paying attention, and other times she just wasn't in the mood or something. But if the object was interesting, she'd usually play along.
Hancock wasn't one hundred percent sure what constituted as "interesting enough", something to do with how it rolled or bounced, or maybe the ridiculousness of it. Hubcaps were always fun, but a little too noisy. Once they had booted a little toy car along for almost an hour, letting it whiz ahead of them down hills. Sadly a pebble jettisoned it's tiny wooden wheels from the earth and it toppled into a puddle and disappeared below the water. He also wasn't sure what the rules of the game were. Sure there were the obvious things, like no using your hands, no running way off the path to retrieve the item, don't take too long to get it unstuck. Part of the game was maintaining the illusion that there was no game. Other than that, the rules seemed to change. Sometimes the goal was to keep the object on your side of the road. Sometimes it was to pass it back as quickly as possible. Sometimes the objective was to knock it out on the other person's side. Once the goal was to knock it into the sewer drains. That one took awhile, and he might have cheated, just a little, but he'd won. There didn't seem to be anything interesting around today.
Silver still didn't talk much, but it was no longer a bitter and cold silence, just a reserved one. Hancock found he was getting used to her more stoic personality, but it helped knowing there was more to her than that.
Still, Hancock tried.
"Hey, Silver," he called out to her. He usually made a point of making sure he had her attention before he spoke, which was weird, because he was used to holding people's attention pretty darn well without, but Silver was just about always too much in her own head to notice if he was talking to her or not.
"Hum?" she answered, which meant she was open to listening to him, even if she wasn't overly keen on it.
"You ever wonder if maybe you're a synth and don't know it? I got a lot of time I can't account for…"
Silver snorted. "Oh come on, not this again. You know you're not a damn synth. You can't hit the jet like you do and then complain about 'lost time'. Don't play cute with me Mr. Mayor."
"I'm not playing," Hancock chuckled. "You and I both know I'm adorable."
Silver heaved a disgusted sigh and began to pull ahead of him.
"Ah come on, humor me a little will ya? You're always thinking, don't you ever think about anything interesting like that?"
"No, I know I'm not a synth, so I don't think about it."
Hancock shot her a look. "You know? How do you know?"
"Because Hancock," she groaned in frustration., "they make synth's to blend in with regular people right? So, why would they make me look...like this?"
"Uh, accident?"
Silver rolled her eyes at him. "Yeah, okay, they gave me claws, on accident. Then they also let me loose all the way in Capital, also on accident. Give it up H.C. I'm not a synth. Trust me, I..."
"What?"
"Just trust me."
"Alright, alright. So you're not a synth."
"And neither are you. No synth could fake being as irritating as you."
Hancock laughed and swatted at her playfully. "That's right doll. There's only one me."
Silver pushed him away, causing him to upset a pile of paper trash. A fat rad roach scurried out from under an ancient newspaper and ran higgledy piggledy down the street before frantically squeezing into a storm drain.
"Huh...Bugs that big where you come from?"
Silver mulled it over for a moment. "Roaches, sure. It's the damn ants you have to worry about."
"Ants?"
"Yeah, you don't have them around here?"
Hancock shook his head. "Don't think so."
"Picture a scorpion without the tail or the pinchers."
"That doesn't sound so bad," Hancock said.
"They aren't, except for the giant hedge clippers attached to their mouth. They're a lot smarter than scorpions too. They attack in packs and they're surprisingly organized. Oh, and some of them shoot fire."
"Bullshit!"
"It's true. Worst part is, you can't really tell the spicy ones from the regular ones. The best thing is to aim for the little wiggly things on their head, take those out, and…"
They ducked into a few houses in the area along the way. They were mostly rubble but that usually meant no one else had bothered to try and loot them. After rooting through a few nightstands, kitchen drawers, and a garage workshop they came up with about three packs of cigarettes and one book of matches between them, and about four caps a piece. Silver set about dividing them up even and filling her cigarette case while Hancock smoked one.
"Hey Hancock," Silver said softly, handing him his share of the smokes. "You know...I never really said sorry..."
"Pretty sure I've heard you say it a few times actually. What for?"
"All that awful stuff I said about you being a burden to your family. I...I was completely out of line. I had absolutely no basis for all of that, so, I'm sorry."
"You're still thinking about that? I'd pretty much forgotten it. Don't worry about it."
"Still-'
"Water under the bridge."
"I know but-"
Hancock gave a low gravely laugh. "Where is this coming from Silver?"
"I don't know...You've been good to me. I just wanted to say it. I needed you to know."
"I already knew."
"Yeah...Maybe I just needed to say it then."
"Well, you said it. Guess we're all good now."
Silver waited a beat. "So, what are they like?"
"My family?"
"Yeah. You don't talk about them much. I assume there is a reason?"
"There is. Why do you wanna know about all that?"
"Well, I figured, you already know all about my messy family, so it's only fair. That, and it'd be more interesting to talk about than rad roaches."
"Guess that's fair. What did you want to know?"
Well, what were your parents like?"
Hancock shrugged. "Er, normal I guess. Perfectly ordinary really. A little embarrassing to admit now that I think about it.."
"Come on, that's not fair."
"Alright," Hancock sighed. "My old man was a tough old bastard but still a good man. A little too keen on discipline, and he drank just a little bit too much. Mom was softer, always tried to protect us from the worst of Dad's temper, made the best home she could for us. They tried to teach us the value of honest hard work, but it never really stuck for either of us. Like I said, just normal."
"So, how did you end up a drifter?"
"I never took to the farm life. Older I got, the less I felt like tending tatos. I guess, in a way, I was letting them down, not sticking around, but I had to be free to live my own life too, you know what I mean? It started simple enough, just sneaking off with a few of the local boys, smoking, drinking. Whatever they could lift off their folks or scavenge up from local ruins. I wasn't brave enough to do either back then."
"I take it that didn't last?"
"Yeah, wasn't long till I was doing both. If that was the worst I ever did it wouldn't have been so bad, but course it got worse."
"Of course."
"I never ran with any gang, not any real gang least ways. Just a couple of pals who liked the same kind of trouble. The typical teenage rebelion affair. Got in a couple of knife fights, guns were reserved for serious business. Got my first taste of chems not long after that and...well. I started staying away from home more and more. If I didn't come home I didn't have to hear the lectures and the fighting. A few days became weeks, then months, then I only stopped by once in a blue moon. Things were actually better that way for a while."
"Better?"
"Well, by then my brother had up and moved the family into diamond city, so things weren't as tense all around. Didn't have to worry about raiders or crops anymore so my folks finally mellowed out a little. Stead of being pissed when I blew through town they were mostly just glad to see I hadn't kicked it yet. I didn't steal from em, never asked for more than a meal or two and a few nights of good rest, and they were happy enough with that to oblige me. Even my brother got off my case. Guess he was too focused on other things."
"Your brother, you don't talk about him either...is he?"
Hancock shook his head. "No, he's still around."
"So then, something happened between you two? I mean, you stopped going back to Diamond City right?"
"You could say that."
"So? What was it."
Hancock glared down at the dirt. "He became the mayor."
"The mayor? Of Goodneighbor?"
"Nah, Vic wasn't my brother. But this is almost as bad. My brother is Mayor Mcdonough of Diamond City."
Diamond City...that's the one where they won't let ghouls in isn't it?"
"That's the one."
Silver frowned in thought. "Is that because of you?"
"My brother is the reason they have that no ghouls policy," Hancock grumbled. His voice was thick with cold anger, he could feel it. Taste it in his mouth.
"Your brother banned the ghouls?"
"Yeah. I'm sure it sounds pretty idealic to someone like you...no offense. Guess it sounded pretty good to the people of Diamond City too, because they voted him in when he promised he'd kick all the ghouls out. The day he won and I had to watch all those people pulled out of their houses...day I stopped having a brother."
"He kicked you out too?"
"I wasn't a ghoul then, so I didn't have to leave, but I knew I couldn't stay."
What...What happened to them? All the ghouls?"
"Most of them died. I tried to help the few I could, bring food when I found it, but one by one they all just...dissapeared. Me, I never went back to Diamond City. Couldn't stomach to look at the place."
"I don't blame you. What they did to those ghouls...to all those people...it just isn't right."
"Sure ain't."
"I...I'm sorry H.C. At least...At least you did all you could to try and make it better. I'd be really proud if I were you. I know you're not...but what you did was still...pretty noble."
"Yeah, uh...thanks."
"And then...Goodneighbor?"
"More or less. Did a lot of scuttling around for a while. Spent a lot of time running out on people...running away from shit I didn't think I could change."
He stole a glance at Silver.
"But, hopefully, my days of running are all behind me."
"I can't imagine you running from anything."
"Even I'm not brave enough to be fearless."
"No, I just figured you were dumb enough to be."
Hancock shot her a dirty look but she was grinning back at him so peevishly it tickled him.
"Get off my case already would ya?"
"What's the matter? Can't handle a taste of your own medicine Mr. Mayor?"
Hancock snickered. "That's fine, keep it up. You know payback's a bitch right?"
"This is payback. Yours."
She knocked her shoulder into his, which was more or less healed now, and added "For what it's worth, I think you're brave enough to change anything you want Hancock."
"With the right people at my side, sure."
"Stubborn enough too..."
Hancock knocked back into her. "You fucker."
Silver just smiled a minxy smile at him. "You're a lot softer on the inside than most people know I'd wager."
"Hey, everyone is entitled to some softness. For me it's uh, pretty much everything below the eyebrows," Hancock said with laughter in his throat.
"Really? Cause I thought it was everything in between your ears," she teased.
"Oof," Hancock grunted in mock pain. "Always out for blood..."
"Can't let my guard down with you around. Gotta show you who's boss."
Mouthy little brat.
But Hancock liked her sense of humor, even if he was usually the butt of her jokes.
"How come you're so cavalier about showing that side to me huh?" she asked him, still giving him a sly gaze.
Hancock felt something squirm around in his guts somewhere and his tongue tied itself up in a knot.
Huh.
"I'm not," he told her, attempting to sound collected.
"Uh-huh..."
"I'm not, I just-I-"
Silver giggled and shook her head, sending her pony tail swaying. "Are you actually blushing right now? I didn't know ghouls could blush."
"You're seeing things. You been in my stash?"
"What would the folks in Goodneighbor think if they could see you now, redder than your stupid coat!"
"Hey, come on, show a ghoul some mercy Silverfish," he said sheepishly. "If word got out they might impeach me. I got a reputation to protect."
"Mercy? After everything you've put me through? Not bloody likely mate."
"Well, you were soft with me first..."
Silver scowled momentarily. "That's not soft. Just because you saw me broken down like that doesn't mean I'm soft."
"Bull," Hancock blurted out. "You still got softness left in you. I'll find it one of these days, don't you worry. And then, payback."
Silver hummed a little laugh to herself. "We'll see."
It was just shy of noon when they stopped for a rest.
"Hey," Silver called to Hancock, pointing down a side street. "Look at that place."
She was pointing at an old mom and pop restaurant. The still intact glass window read "Barb's Diner" in faded blue and yellow lettering.
"Huh, would ya look at that," Hancock commented.
For this area, a building still having all four walls was pretty impressive, so for the window to still be in one piece was downright remarkable. Being so well protected from the elements, the inside was visibly less destroyed than usual.
"Wanna take a peek?" Hancock asked her.
Silver nodded, a light smile spreading out on her face.
Hancock drew out his pistol and moved for the door. Silver readied her rifle and stayed on the street. The door was locked Hancock found. He gave it a rattle, but it didn't budge. It was chained from the inside.
"Break the glass, or?"
Silver shook her head. "Let's check around back first."
"Sure."
Hancock lead the way down the alley and around to the back door. This one was locked as well, but the lock was accessible.
"Alright, do your stuff," Hancock whispered, posting up behind Silver.
He always liked watching her pick locks. He was jealous he'd neglected to pick up something so useful all these years.
The door put up more of a fight against Silverfish than he had seen so far, but a snapped Bobby pin later, the door popped open.
"After you," Silver said in a silky whisper, readying her weapon again.
Hancock pushed the door open with the toe of his boot and they both watched silently as the sunlight crept in to illuminate the dust covered linoleum floor.
They waited, bodies tight with tension, waited for anything inside to move. To make a sound. But everything stayed quiet.
"Right then," Hancock mumbled and stepped into the dim light. Silver stayed put in the alley, waiting for the all clear.
Scanning the kitchen revealed no signs the diner had been touched since the bombs had dropped. Ferals didn't seem likely, but Hancock poked around just to be sure. The worst he found was a few crates of long rotted produce.
He moved on to the dining area, nudging the double swinging door open with his elbow. It was brighter in here and aside from behind the bar, there was no where for anything bigger than a rad roach to hide.
Hancock whistled, the signal everything was all good, and a minute later Silver plodded up behind him.
The diner was entirely as to be expected. Blue leather bench booths and white formica tables formed the perimeter of the room, a bar with high stools made up the rest. Under the dust the chrome still had its shine. On the countertop was a chalk sign that read "Pancake special, $6.99, Add Bacon $2.00, Milkshakes $3.00, Chocolate cake $2.75".
"Place was probably nice once, Hancock commented. "Shame."
Silver slowly rotated, taking everything in. "Shit. You mean to tell me no one's busted in here in over two hundred years?"
"Looks that way. Hey, folks drank soda in these places, right? There's gotta be some caps around here somewhere…"
"Oh, hey, good thinking," Silver said, hopping onto a stool and seating herself on the countertop to shimmy over.
She disappeared over the other side, trailing dust behind her. After a moment of shuffling and rattling she popped back up with a partially full six pack of Nuka-Cola.
"Jackpot!" Hancock cheered. "Wanna take a break?"
"Sure," said Silver, blowing the dust off the bottles.
Hancock grabbed a rag off the counter and started wiping it down. It wasn't ecactly doing the best job of cleaning much of anything, but it did at least push most of the dust out of the way and clear them a spot. Silver wiped off one of the bottles and pushed the rest of them towards her partner before she hopped back on to the counter to sit.
"I'll look around here, check the register I guess. You wanna do the kitchen?" she asked him, struggling to crack the cap off.
"Sounds good." Hancock popped the cap off his beverage with the tip of his knife then pocketed it. A bent cap spent the same.
Silver removed her gloves and picked the cap off with her nails. He'd witnessed her accidentally cut herself with them several times, but they did occasionally come in handy.
They drank in relative silence, Silver gnashing away at some jerky as usual. Hancock though the Nuka-Cola tasted extra good for some reason.
"It's a beautiful day huh?" Silver mused.
She was playing with the soda bottle, balancing it on its edge and twirling the rim. Hancock watched her long slender fingers roll the bottle over and over. The blue-green glass was catching the sunlight streaming in and making it sparkle. From this angle, her eyes glinted in the light too, almost like real metal. Her ponytail was in the process of slowly slipping over her shoulder. The sun was strong and the breeze coming through the back door wasn't as chilly as it had been in recent weeks. Outside everything was quiet.
"Yeah, beautiful," he agreed.
"By the way, been meaning to tell you. You sure got a way with weaponry. Those shots were pretty damn good. "
Silver let out a snide laugh. "Come on, they were only cans. It's the wasteland. You get good or you get dead. It's nothing special."
"Nah, I mean it. Never expected you'd be such a scrapper. Nice to not be the only muscle for a change. I mean, I saw you that first night and I could tell you hadn't survived on dumb luck alone, but I didn't know how long you could keep it up. This is hard livin' we're doing out here. You fight like you were born for it, and I respect that."
"You don't have to keep talking me up Hancock. I'm already on your side. What more do you want out of me?"
"Just want to thank you is all. Nice to not have to constantly watch over my shoulder all the time."
Silver shrugged. "Like I said. I'm on your side. We're a team. If I don't have your back you don't have mine. So I've got no choice but to protect you. You dumb junkie..."
"How do you think this thing of ours is going?"
"Huh?"
"You and me. You think we're working out? Getting along alright?"
Silver laughed. "Kinda makes it weird when you ask right out like that you know..."
"Maybe. What can I say, I'm a direct kind of ghoul. So?" Hancock pushed.
"I don't know, I haven't thought about it. How do you think it's going?"
Hancock flashed her a big grin. "I think things are exactly how they should be, you and me cuttin' a nice bloody swath across the Commonwealth. Doing good. Helping folks. Other than feelin' a little jealous I might only be the second most deadly person in this outfit, I'm feelin' pretty damn good about it."
"Well if you think that highly of us, why are you bothering to ask me?" Silver asked with a soft snicker.
"Because we're partners. What you think matters to me."
Silver paused, her face screwed up in confusion. "But why?" she asked.
You just don't get it, do you, lead head?
"Well, it's like this see. Not a lot of folks would travel with a Ghoul, even one with my kinda charisma. And you, you got reasons better than most. And I won't say you never complain or nothin', but for the most part you don't. You don't say much about much of anything really. So I feel like I gotta ask. To see if you're good with more of the same. I shouldn't be the only one getting what I need out of our little partnership is all, you see?"
"Ahn," Silver grunted to herself. Maybe she got it now.
"Getting what I need huh?" she sighed. "Well, I don't know about all of that H.C., but I'll tell you what. I'm not unhappy. I don't resent you, or the hard days or the rough nights. When I left my family, I didn't think I'd ever trust anyone to have my back again. Certainly not so soon. But here you are, working hard everyday to keep me alive. So, yeah, I don't know how I feel about this, about us, besides relieved. Same as you. I guess for right now, that's all I need out of it. So I'm good."
Her eyes, hard as metal and dark as night, they had this way of softening when they needed to. When things got too tight and twisted up inside her head, they'd relax, and transform her into something else for a while. Something not so cold. Something more pliable. Something almost sweet. That's how she looked then. Black lips, bruise above her eye, bangs battering against her clawed up face. In spite of all of it, she looked sweet.
Hancock hadn't been expecting such honesty. Not because Silver wasn't honest, she was incredibly honest if you watched her instead of listened to her. Her face gave everything away when soft squishy feelings were involved. He wasn't expecting it, because this was one of the times it wasn't fully required on her part. It would have been easy to simply agree, to give him some vague uncommitted answer he wanted to hear. "Yeah, same," as simple as that. She didn't have to mean it with all the gusto he did, she just had to say it, and that was close enough. Would have been enough for him. Instead she chose her own words. Words that meant something to her. Words that left her tender and open. Words that made him feel tender and open too.
"Hey," he said softly, "you got nothing to worry about with me covering ya. Promise." He mustered up as sincere a smile as his naturally devilish face would allow him.
"Yeah. I know that," she replied. She didn't quite smile back, but her eyes were still kind.
When Silver finished her drink she tossed her bottle in the trash and began to pick over the backside of the counter looking for caps and anything else that might be useful. Hancock took a little longer to get moving but eventually made for the back of the building. He left his bottle on the counter. There wasn't much to the back really. The kitchen had a grill, a fryer, everything one would expect to find. He didn't find much, boxed and crates of this and that, odds and ends for a kitchen. A stack of menus, assorted cooking utensils, dishes tucked away in every place imaginable. In the pantry he did manage to find some canned goods and water. Pork and beans Silver wouldn't eat, but some of the others she might. There was a basement with a walk in freezer, nearly empty, and a generator. It still looked operational so he flipped the switch. It hummed to life and lights began to pop on.
"Well, that'll make things easier huh?"
He dug around in the freezer, finding a few discarded caps, probably left there by cooks looking for a cool place to take a breather. There was a surprising lack of bones about the place. It must have been closed the day the bombs fell. Never reopened. Suddenly the freezer felt rather small and unwelcoming. When he went back upstairs Silver was counting out caps. She'd found a jar of them, apparently there had been some kind of recycling deal going on, keeping the metal and glass separate.
"Jackpot! Nice find sister. What are we lookin' at? Hundred a piece?"
"There abouts, though I think I'm entitled to a small finder's fee. Don't you thi-"
A warped gurgle of electronic sound blared to life. At first it sounded like an alarm, some kind of Siren, but as it continued it was recognizable as trumpets. Some jazz number had kicked on from the jukebox in the back corner. The sudden sound had caused Hancock to jump, but had nearly caused Silver to leap out of her skin.
"Fucking hell...you must have jumpstarted it when you tripped the power."
Hancock rubbed the back of his neck. "Heh, sorry."
Silver wandered over to the pre-war machine with a small amount of caution.
"Oh wow, look at this thing!" she exclaimed, lowering her gun and approaching the old rainbow hued jukebox. She swiped the dust off the front and coughed a little before peering in at the old neon orange holotape changer.
"Can you believe the condition this is in? It's so pretty..."
Hancock cracked open another Nuka-Cola. "What's the fuss? You never see one before?"
"No, I have..." she mumbled, leaning her rifle against the wall and clearing off the song selection plate. "I have. It just feels like a really long time."
Hancock wandered over closer to get a better look himself.
"I love that shade of blue...there used to be one just like this at Houlihan's. A7, Atom Bomb Baby."
Hancock looked down at the title list and sure enough she was right. He punched in the number and the holotape changer whirred and creaked as in selected the corresponding track.
"Well, what d'ya know, still works."
The boppy little jive track clicked on and the diner filled with music. Hopefully nothing was around to hear it and come looking for lunch.
Silver bobbed her head to the tune intermittently. The smile on her face was gentle and nostalgic, not one Hancock had seen her wear often.
"This was my favorite to dance to. I'd always save a quarter for it, and Dean Fischer would swing me around like a ragdoll. Then Evelyn, Nelly, Bill and I would cram into his little yellow 2051 Monte Carlo and we'd cruise over to the Dallas Star Theater to catch the latest double creature feature. Bill loved those gross cheesy movies..."
Hancock raised his brow at his companion.
Cruise? Theater?
"Uh...Silver, what exactly are you on about?"
"The Dallas Star Theater. No where near Texas, but the owners Bob and Midge were from Dallas so...so they...named it that…and we would..."
Silver's wistful dreamy expression clouded over with strain and confusion.
"Silver what kind of nonsense are you trying to pull? A theater? Like, a movie theater?"
"Yeah, Friday nights were the five dollar double and we would…"
Silver's hand shot to the side of her head. "Ow," she bellowed bluntly.
Hancock stared at her, bewildered. "What's…"
"Ow!" Silver moaned more sharply. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"
She briefly clutched her head with both hands before slamming her hand down on a nearby table to support herself.
"Whoa, hey now, what's going on?" Hancock asked as he scrambled to set his drink down and get Silver into the booth before she fell.
Her only response was to moan and tear at her hair.
"Silver what's wrong?"
"My fucking head! It-it's going to explode…."
She pressed her head into the bend of her arms, writhing and twisting this way and that. Hancock saw little tears beading up in her eyelashes. "Make it stop," she begged. Hancock wasn't sure if it was directed at him or someone or something less corporeal.
"You okay?" he asked her, which, he was aware was sort of a stupid question, but it was all he could think to do.
She laid there moaning for a while longer, then just as suddenly as it had come on, her fit dissipated. She took a moment to catch her breath before she sat up. She blinked groggily, the ghost of pain still lurking in her eyes, but clearly much recovered.
"Ya alright?" Hancock asked again, his hand briefly touching her shoulder as he sat down beside her.
"Y-yeah I… I think so…"
"What the hell was that?"
"I don't know," Silver muttered, rubbing her temples as if she could chase the pain away.
"You started talking crazy there for a minute. Thought you were having a bad trip or something. "
She shook her head. "No, definitely not a trip...it...it felt like…"
"Like what Sil?" Hancock replaced his hand on her shoulder hoping to provide comfort rather than discomfort.
She gave a nervous laugh. "Nothing, it's crazy. I just, spaced out or something there, forget about it."
"Hey, I dig crazy remember? Come on, you can tell me."
Silver sighed. "It was like a memory. Like I was really there…"
"But...you sounded like you were talking pre-war stuff. How could that be a memory?"
"I...I don't know. But it was. I can feel it, like it was yesterday. It's...fading, but It was just like a memory."
"Hummm.."Hancock mumbled in thought. "Well what the hell do you s'pose that means?"
"I don't have a clue...nothing like this has ever happened before…"
"No?"
"No," Silver assured him. "So bizarre...creepy really…"
Well, at least things are never dull with her around.
"Hey, you know what, I got me a doctor back home, Amari, she's a whizz with brain stuff. I bet she could check you out. Help you figure out...whatever that was. If you want an introduction I can arrange it."
Silver turned to face him. "Thought you didn't want to go back?" Her tears had mixed with all the dust and left dirty streaks on her face.
"Well, I guess I don't exactly, but if it would help you out then it would be damn selfish of me not to wouldn't it?"
"I guess so…"
"Guess we should turn back and-"
"No way. We're finishing this job," Silver said, her jaw a little clenched.
"You sure? We're not that far, we could-"
She shook her head and pulled her hair down. "No. I'm fine. Can we not - can we just not talk about this right now?"
"Yeah, sure," Hancock whispered.
Though Silver no longer flinched when he reached out to touch her hair, Hancock was always prepared for the possibility that she might, so he always took care to do so slowly. As with the past three instances, she remained calm when he tangled his fingers into her coarse mane. He combed through it with ease, over and over.
In the past he had also been careful not to stray too close to her scalp, that might constitute as "touching" her, and that was generally out of the question. However over the past six weeks the ocasional accidental brushes revealed this amount of contact didn't bother her. Now as he stroked her hair he sometimes let his palm glide along the curve of her skull or briefly cradle the back of her head. She seemed to find this almost as relaxing as he did.
Her eyes tended to dart from the floor, to his coat, to his own eyes, then back across the room. Hancock initially thought she might feel more at ease if she would only pick a spot to stare at, but he later realized, this was her way of trying to be kind. She wanted to meet his gaze, even if she didn't have the confidence to hold it for long. To show him that this was okay. There in the diner, her eyes lingered on his for quite some time. She still cast her gaze away, but not as often or as long.
Well that's new.
And then, in the midst of one of these longer gazes, Hancock reached up and delicately ran a thumb along one of Silver's scars. He wasn't even really aware he had done it until he saw her flinch away.
Hancock flinched back as well. He hadn't quite gotten the hang of when she was fixing to wail on him or not. "Oh, uh, sorry I didn't realize I was...I…you okay?"
"Y-you startled me is all," she huffed. Her brows were wrinkled and her cheeks had begun to flush with distress and nerves, but she seemed no worse for wear.
"Do they...Do they hurt at all?" he asked her, when it seemed Silver had no intention of separating herself from his hold.
She was quiet for a while, processing it seemed.
"No," she eventually murmured. "They don't hurt. Just scars now."
There was a distinct and surprising lack of anger and panic in her tone. He could imagine her heart had quickened, though he wasn't close enough to feel it or hear it, but she wasn't upset. Not really.
"What about you? Do...yours hurt?"
Hancock shook his head in the negative. "Nah. Heard of ghouls that get pains n' such, but I don't."
"Mm."
Cautiously, Hancock stroked the scar again. This time Silver didn't flinch away, nor did Hancock. He watched her closely, but he didn't see fear dance in her eyes. He did it again, this time allowing more of his skin to brush against hers by stroking with his knuckles. Her breath was shaky, but she continued to blink up at him.
"S' that okay?" he asked her.
"I...I think so she answered."
She was still meeting his gaze.
"Hey Hancock..." she whispered.
"Yeah?"
"I wanted to let you know, I'm sure glad I'm not alone out here. That you're still here. And...I guess, in a way, I'm just a little bit glad you're soft with me about stuff like this, you know. So, thanks. Thanks for being you I guess."
"Yeah, sure. Anytime," he told her. "You uh...you good to go?"
"Yeah, let's get moving."
Silver ran a comb through her hair and a few bobby pins later, it was in a neat little bun. She wiped most of the dirt off her face, and collected her gun. Hancock smoked while he waited.
"Uh...hey…" he mumbled when she saddled up alongside him. "You know, the stuff about me running out on the folks in my life. I was just thinking about it, and it makes me sound kinda loony. And folks are already pretty well disposed for thinking I'm nuts, you know, being a politician and all. So, you're not going to go around blabbing any of that, right?"
Silver blinked up at him blankly. "I would never share something so personal…" she reassured him. Then a twisted little smirk spread across her face. "Unless it were really, really funny of course."
Hancock grinned at her. "Well, I don't expect either of us is gonna be breakin' the ice at any soirees anytime soon, so I'm probably safe huh?" He slapped her back and made for the door. "Come on, let's go get paid."
