25. Moon: Hancock opens up

"Alright alright." Hancock's laughter died down. "So what DO you miss?"

Nora glanced at him before returning her gaze to the stars, a smile on her lips. "Comfort." She shrugged. "I miss being able to turn on the heater when I get cold, or hop into the shower and not have my skin bubble and peel with radiation, or coffee," Nora's eyes got wide, "God, I miss coffee!"

"Coffee?" Hancock asked chewing on a mentat.

"My kind of drug," Nora closed her eyes as she laughed. "It was a drink filled with caffeine—It gave you energy." She added when Hancock squinted his eyes in puzzlement. "A lot of people used it in the morning as a 'pick-me-up' or a mid-day reprieve. Although, my kind of coffee wasn't the best."

"Why's that?" Hancock couldn't keep his eyes off her.

"I usually had way too much sugar in mine." Nora chuckled. "But yeah," she nodded a few times before turning to him once more, "comfort. Being able to do things and not have to think about safety or energy. I could just exist."

"Sounds like hell." Hancock scoffed with a smirk.

Nora rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mr. Politician." She rolled over onto her stomach and looked at him. "Do you miss anything from your past?"

Hancock tensed up. He hadn't planned on the conversation to turn to him. He looked at her, her hazel eyes reflected the fire between them, her red hair was set ablaze by the light. His eyes lingered over the scar Kellogg had left her. Over the scar she'd gotten in the Glowing Sea. The scar she'd gotten in the months they spent apart. He hoped it wasn't obvious that his eyes kept glancing at them, but Nora did notice and she rolled back onto her back with a heavy sigh. Her scars mostly out of sight, out of mind.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to." There she went sounding so grown up. She would have made a damn good mom if the war hadn't happened. Hell! She'd still make a damn good mom! Hancock tried not to think about how Nora WAS a mom, she'd just had her child and his life ripped from her.

But Hancock wasn't thinking about that. His mind was elsewhere. "I want to." Hancock sat up. He pulled one leg close to him, propping an elbow on his knee. "Just don't know if it'll change things between us." Nora muttered something under her breath. "What was that?" Hancock asked. Nora didn't answer, she just stared at the stars. Hancock sighed, "alright, look, I didn't use to be Mayor of Goodneighbor. I used to be some scrappy kid looking to scrounge up enough caps for my next high. And before that I used to live in Diamond City." he admitted.

Nora turned to look at him, her brows knitted together.

"Then McDonough ran for mayor 'mankind for McDonough'," Hancock spread his hands like he was presenting a banner. "Part of his anti-ghoul program. So, anyways, that asshat gets elected and goes and turns everyone against the ghouls."

"You were kicked out?" Nora asked, she had one arm under her head as a pillow, and was watching him intently.

"Me? No. This was all pre-ghoul." Hancock shook his head. He turned his head away. "I tried getting McDonough to see reason. These were our neighbors and friends. And he was sending them to their deaths. I tried helping people relocate to Goodneighbor, but many just couldn't cut it. Some vanished into the Commonwealth. Others just vanished. That's when I became this." Hancock turned back to her and motioned to himself. "Used an experimental radiation drug."

"God, that sounds awful." Nora whispered under her breath.

"The high was so worth it." Hancock breathed. "Besides, I like the look. I think it gives me a sexy, king of the zombies kind of look. Big hit with the ladies." Hancock grinned as Nora rolled her eyes.

Hancock trailed off, watching the fire and hoping he could go back to teasing Nora's cushy pre-war life. "So, were you always Hancock?" She asked. Hancock sighed, figuring he wouldn't get away from the topic so easily he thought about all the different ways the following conversation could go.

He glanced at her, "No." he answered quietly.

When Nora said nothing he stretched and started to lay back down. Nora pushed herself up and walked around the fire to sit next to him. She said nothing, but the look in her eyes said, 'you don't have to say anything, but I'm here if you do.'

"McDonough was my brother." Hancock said in a whisper between breaths. He wasn't sure if it was the fire or Nora's sudden proximity, but his chest felt hot. He was thankful he wore layers of clothes to hide his hammering heart in his chest. He continued , "I picked up 'Hancock' just before I became mayor. Some mob boss, Vic, was running Goodneighbor at the time. Keeping everyone dependent on his chems but never supplying enough of them or enough caps. Sent lots of us to the wastes to make ends meet and get our next high. Lots died." Nora took one of his hands in hers. She squeezed his hand reassuringly. He squeezed back instinctively. "After one of his goons killed a man in front of me I knew I had to do something. I got as high as I fucking could and woke up in an old museum. Found the original Hancock's clothes and," he studied their laced fingers, "guess I felt some kind of inspiration cause next thing I knew I was throwing on his threads and leading a militia to overthrow Vic."

"You did what you could. You probably saved lots of people." Nora reassured him.

"But I couldn't save them all." Hancock mentally cursed himself. "Those deaths have tormented me for years." He stared at the horizon, the only thing keeping him grounded was Nora.

"You did a lot of good." She pressed.

"Doesn't make up for what I didn't do." Hancock fired back. He couldn't look her in the eye.

"Hancock," Nora scooted away from him enough to turn and look at him. "You are the most selfless man I know. Hell, you give your home out to drifters who can't afford a room at the Rexford or just when there's no room anywhere else. You left your job as beloved mayor of Goodneighbor to go on a wild goose chase with me. You take in those who are most lost and give them purpose."

"It never feels like enough."

"It may never feel like enough. But it is." Nora now sat between him and the fire, so close their knees were touching. The fire lit up her red hair and made her look so alive. Hancock wanted to reach out and touch her if he wasn't scared of being burned. "You are one person, John." His eyes focused on her. "Sometimes the only life you can save is your own. But you've saved so many." She reached up with one gloved hand and cupped his cheek. "You're a thousand times more the man than half the ones I knew back in the day."

"'S'not true." He shook his head, leaning back out of her touch.

"It is," She sat forward, fire in her eyes and a wrathful spit to her words. Now she grabbed his face with both her hands. "You're a good person, John Hancock. A damn good friend. And," she took a deep breath, "and the only reason I'm still here." Hancock had heard this all before when Nora had gotten drunk. It didn't stop it from making his heart do weird palpitations. Nora sat back, slowly letting her hands fall from his cheeks to the lapels of his frock. She swallowed hard. Hancock did too. A warmth grew from his stomach, and he knew it wasn't from the fire. "After I found out what Shaun had become," Nora stared as his chest and ran her fingers under his lapels, "I wanted to end it all. Everything I had worked for, everything I had done. It was all to get my baby back. But my baby had grown up without me. Without love. Without compassion. I had no idea what to do."

"But you're the General of the Minutemen." Hancock licked what little remained of his lips and tried to keep his breathing steady.

Nora looked up at him with watery hazel eyes. "None of that mattered anymore. I don't belong here. This isn't my world." her voice was coming out barely above a whisper. "But then," She sat back, slowly pulled her hands away from him. She looked at him as though he might disappear before her eyes. "I thought of you. I thought about how it was unfair how I left you. That stupid fight,"

"I've had fights before, babes," Hancock laughed, trying to make light of the situation, "That was nothing,"

"But it wasn't 'nothing'. I was willing to lose our friendship to get my son back. Our friendship! Without which I would have never even gotten close to finding my son." Nora turned and sat next to Hancock, leaning back against the wall. "It wasn't until the last shreds of my old life were ripped away from me that I realized I didn't want to live in this new world without you there with me." Hancock stayed silent, his mind buzzing with thoughts and inferences as to all the possible things she could have meant with those words. "You've always had my back, John." He suppressed a shiver at her calling him by his first name. "And when I put that gun to my head," she nodded to her trusty rifle across the fire, "All I could think about was how unfair it would have been to you if I had just died. How selfish of me it would have been, huh?"

"No." Hancock wanted to say, but his mouth was dry, and he couldn't keep his thoughts straight.

"But even when I came back from The Institute I couldn't bear facing you. I was angry at myself for thinking about killing myself. I was ashamed. I threw myself into my work and well you know the rest." Nora shrugged.

Hancock sat back next to her and cautiously raised an arm, Nora instinctively moved to curl up next to him. "I'm sorry you've got so many battles going on." He whispered into her hair. He cautioned a kiss on the top of her scalp. "So many people pulling you one way or the other. So many choices and people who depend on you. I feel it." He mumbled, resting his cheek on her head.

"Hancock?" Hancock raised his head and looked down at her. Nora looked up at him.

The only ones who knew what happened next were Nora, Hancock, and the moon.