A/N: TRACK LIST: "Inside," by The Klyma.

Come rain or shine You're all I see,

For me you're all I see;

You're the other part of me.

I f I close my eyes I can see your smile,

Cause even a broken smile can shine.

If your eyes if your eyes don't shine, can I see your smile...?

Inside my soul where the beat is uncontrolled,

You'll have your place.

I 'm loving the girl with the broken smile.

Inside my soul where the dreams are made of gold,

You'll have your place...

I'm loving the girl with the broken smile.

Preston was initially so stunned by what just happened that for a long moment he just stared at the body with wide eyes. Finally, when his gaze shifted up toward the ghoul responsible for saving his life, the Minuteman's slack-jawed mouth slowly closed and he looked him over. "You look like hell."

"And you smell like a feral took a shit on a flaming Brahmin," Hancock replied without missing a beat, a smirk curling his lips as he extended a scarred hand to his companion. "That any way to talk to the guy that just saved your ass?"

After another moment's pause Preston allowed a hint of a grin to curl his lips and he accepted the hand, letting the ghoul help him to his feet. More pain bloomed in his shoulder and he clutched it with a grimace. Hancock's brow-line furrowed. "Is Evelyn alright?"

Preston's gaze went over to the unconscious woman, still laid next to the wall where she'd fallen. He frowned. "I don't know. She's alive, I know that much… but when she fell, the rock hit her spine. Hard."

"Shit," Hancock cursed, stumbling over to her and collapsing at her side. Bending over her, he put a hand to her cheek, trying to wake her. "Shit. I don't have a Stimpak. Come on, Sister… Wake up. Please…"

As Preston hobbled over to them, still clutching his burned shoulder, he watched not just Evelyn, but Hancock, too. After a few moments of observing, all the pieces finally clicked into place and his brows raised in surprise.

Well no wonder he was so irritated when Evelyn joked about having sex with someone else.

"So when are you gonna tell her?" Preston asked without thinking.

Hancock glanced up at him with narrowed eyes. "The hell are you talking about?"

"That you're in love with her."

"You're outta your goddamn mind." The ghoul turned his attention back to the ravenette, who didn't seem to respond. She was out cold. Hancock's distress was nearly palpable, so in an effort to distance himself from the fretting ghoul and to be useful, the Minuteman decided to head toward the opening he noticed on the opposite side of the chapel to search for Deacon. Carefully depositing Evelyn's shotgun by her side and picking up his laser musket from the spot he'd dropped it, Preston adjusted his hat and shoved a Stimpak into his leg to help with the pain before diligently setting about his task.

The opening he'd found narrowed into a one-man tunnel and wound downwards and to the left, before opening up into a larger hallway that branched off in multiple directions. "This is gonna take all night," he muttered with a sigh, beginning his search. He began branching off to each door he found, opening them to check and finding them empty. As he persevered through the mundane task, he thought back to the look on Hancock's face. He didn't know him very well at all, but it was clear from the way he looked at the General that he deeply cared about her. And when Preston had asked him when he was going to tell her he was in love with her… the ghoul hadn't denied the charges laid against him. He just acted in disbelief; like he didn't know what to think about the accusations.

Preston wasn't sure what to think about it all, himself. The General was a kind and charming woman, one he was sure would easily be able to pick whomever she wanted to date even with the scar over her eye… why would she choose a druggie ghoul from Goodneighbor — one of the dirtiest, lowest settlements in the Commonwealth?

Almost immediately Preston forced those thoughts out of his head. Was that any way to think about the man that had just saved his life? With a simple WHACK to the villain's head, no less? The climax of the fight had been laughable, for sure; but Hancock had proven himself on this journey.

He wondered if the General felt the same about this ghoul as he felt about her.

Finally, one door held Preston's query inside. Unfortunately, it also held three enemies inside; all of which immediately took aim and began firing. It took all of the Minuteman's strength and reflexes to get out of dodge, duck behind the doorway, and hit the panel to make the door slide closed. Preston waited a few moments, hastily throwing together a game-plan, and made a move to open the door back up — only to hear grunting and slamming on the other side of it. What the hell was going on in there?

The door opened and Preston instinctively raised his rifle to blow the enemy's brains out — only to find Deacon standing there grinning at him and hefting a laser rifle over his shoulder. "Thanks try-hard," he said, clapping the man on the shoulder as he passed by. "Got me out of a real jam there."

"You're thanking me?" Preston spluttered, following behind him. Deacon had a confident gait, but it was clear from the very carefully hidden limp that he was indeed injured. Whether from the fight he just had or some kind of torture, Preston had no idea. Still, he caught up to the other man and offered an arm for him to lean on (which Deacon ignored). "I didn't do anything back there!"

"Oh no no no. Until you came in, I had three muzzles pointed at me. I couldn't even cough without them threatening to pull the trigger. You're the real hero here." Deacon's casual smile was almost unnerving. How could a tied up, unarmed man take out three armed opponents with nothing but a little distraction?

Then again… this was Deacon.

The duo headed back toward the main chapel; Deacon's pace seemed to quicken a bit when he saw Evelyn and Hancock over by the far wall. "Is she alright?" he asked the ghoul as he approached. Preston was quick to come behind, wincing every so often from a sharp pain in his shoulder. The Stimpak definitely helped, but there was no insta-healing a burn like this.

"I don't know," Hancock muttered grimly. "She still hasn't woken up."

"Don't worry your ugly little head," Deacon assured the ghoul as he crouched by Evelyn's unconscious body. "She's a tough old croon. Never seen anybody like her. She'll make it. Unfortunately they took all of my supplies when they kidnapped me, and I don't know where they are. We'll just have to get her out of here and back to a settlement so we can patch her up."

"First things first, we've gotta make it out of here," Preston suggested. "I doubt that there were only nine of those zealots here. Problem is — I don't know the way out. Our way in here has… well," he finished, gesturing toward the cave-in.

"Oh, there's more, and they'll be coming back at some point," Deacon agreed. "I second Stiff's suggestion. I know another way out — a way these zealot bastards used when they hauled me down here. Saw them coming in and out of it. Like little ants. You guys get her up and get the hell out of here. Go back the way you went to rescue me. There are other tunnels that way that lead above ground."

Preston paused, brows furrowing. "What about you? If we leave without you, the General is going to be pissed. You're the whole reason she came down here."

Deacon gestured to the body of the priest nearby. "I want to investigate him. There was something… off about that guy and I want to examine the body to see what it is. I'll catch up with you guys; I promise."

"If we leave you behind and something happens to you, Evelyn will never forgive us," Preston replied vehemently, puffing up with anger. "Do what you've gotta do. We'll wait. But hurry."

Deacon seemed to consider for a moment; after casting a quick glance at Evelyn's body on the ground, he nodded and limped over to the body of the villain Hancock had defeated. Preston's gaze moved between Deacon as he carefully lowered himself beside the body, and Hancock who tended to Evelyn worriedly. It wasn't too long before Preston noticed the Railroad Agent stiffen up. "What is it?" Preston demanded.

Deacon's voice was uncharacteristically faint. "He's a synth."

Hancock hadn't spoken until now; but his raspy voice piped up. "What did you just say, Glasses?"

Deacon finally glanced back at them, holding up something in a napkin; squinting at it, Preston realized just what that was and his eyes widened. "You're shitting me," the Minuteman muttered in shock.

"Watch your language, righteous pants," Deacon teased, but the look on his face was oddly grim. Lowering the small mechanical chip and tenderly covering it in the napkin for protection, he sighed. "I thought something was off about these people. I don't know whether their leader was the only synth or if all of them are… but all we can do now is try to figure out what the hell is going on."

"This is a whole bag o' shit we unpacked," Hancock growled. "You think these assholes have any connection to the Institute?"

"Only one way to find out," Deacon answered with a grunt as he gingerly hauled himself to his feet. "I'll take this chip to Desdemona. Have it analyzed. Let's get Ev and get the fuck out of here."

Both Deacon and Preston moved to help Hancock lift Evelyn off the ground, but the ghoul waved them off insistently. "I've got her."

He pulled the woman into his arms, carrying her bridal-style; Deacon led the way with Preston watching vigilantly beside him, while Hancock carried Evelyn behind them both. As they walked, Deacon leaned over to Preston and muttered quietly, "He's got it baaaad."

Preston only nodded.

They all somehow managed to make it out with a bit of effort and, thankfully, no more fighting. However, this other entrance put them above ground about a half mile away from the church; Deacon volunteered to retrieve Dogmeat while the rest of them found a small abandoned shack to take a short rest. Although he knew Hancock wanted to carry Evelyn himself, Preston moved to help the ghoul settle her on the ground because he looked like he was about to pass out himself. That blow to the head had been nasty; Preston had no idea how the ghoul had been able to even stay conscious, much less carry her out of that underground maze.

"You should rest —" The Minuteman began but Hancock was already busying himself searching every inch of the half-ruined shack for any sort of supplies. Preston already knew what he was looking for and also knew he wouldn't stop until he had either found something or exhausted his search; so with a sigh, Preston began looking along with him. But of course either the shack was truly empty or this place had been looted long ago. There was nothing here. Preston was also out of Stimpaks, but he did have a Med-X syringe — it wouldn't heal her wounds but could at least possibly prevent her status from getting any worse. It would do until they could get her some proper care. Snatching the syringe from his coat pocket, he crouched by Evelyn's body and pulled the protective case off the needle and took her arm, slowly pushing it into her skin. Pushing in the plunger until the purplish liquid was gone, he carefully put the casing back on to make sure it didn't injure any passerby (a habit of the cautious and careful man), and set it aside. "That'll help prevent her from getting any worse, at least," he said softly.

Hancock in the meantime had sat down next to the unconscious woman, spreading his legs out and leaning back against a wall. After Preston administered the Mex-X, the ghoul carefully pulled her halfway into his lap, one arm draping over her shoulders protectively as his head tipped back tiredly against the wall.

Preston quickly analyzed the ghoul and pursed his lips. "You should let me take a look at that head injury," he said. "You probably have a concussion. You should rest, but don't fall asleep. That won't go well if you really do have one —"

"I'm fine," Hancock insisted lowly. "She's more important, anyways."

Preston sighed. After a moment of silence, he said, "thank you, by the way. For saving my life."

A lazy grin curled the ghoul's lips as his eyes drifted closed briefly. "And here I thought I'd never hear anything like that outta you."

"That's Deacon you're thinking of," Preston replied with a half-smile. "I know how to be grateful."

"Right. You're not arrogant, you're just a hardass." Hancock's voice was rough, almost accusatory, but that grin was still there.

"Hmph. I've had to be. Living life as a Minuteman after Quincy was… tough. Trying to convince people that I just wanted to help… it took a lot. Thankfully, I found someone who was willing to help me rebuild. And now we're stronger and more unified than ever." As he spoke, Preston glanced down at Evelyn and smiled slightly.

"Save me the sob story," Hancock retorted, but all the hardness was gone from his voice. He followed Preston's eyes to the unconscious woman in his lap and his gaze softened even more, expression so tender that it looked odd on his scarred, rough face. "She's somethin', ain't she?"

Dark eyes flickered back up to the ghoul. "So how did she pick you up?"

A raspy chuckle came from the ghoul's lips. "Actually… she was pretty hesitant to have me tag along. Not sure why. I insisted on joining her."

"Why?"

Hancock shrugged. "Gut feelin' I guess. My instincts told me I needed to follow her, wherever she went… and I'm the typa guy to trust my instincts. And frankly," he continued, a faraway look in his coal-colored hues, "my gut was right on this one."

When Evelyn's eyes opened, the first thing she saw was the under-chin of her ghoul companion. God, her body hurt. Every inch of it. When she tried to move, her back screamed in protest and a whimper came from her before she could bite it back. Suddenly his shifted slightly underneath her and a new wave of aching pain spasmed down her spine; she watched as the ghoul tipped his head down to look at her — and immediately his eyes widened in shock and his whole expression brightened considerably. "Hey there, Sunshine," he rasped, relief flooding his voice.

Warmth spread from her core all the way through her limbs, leaving her skin tingling in the most pleasant way despite the pain originating in her spine. Evelyn couldn't help but smile back up at him and — with effort and some more spasms — she reached a hand up to touch his cheek, fingers drifting up to brush over the bandage she'd wrapped his hand in. "How's your head?" she asked weakly.

His smile broadened; but she could see the concern in his dark eyes. "You can barely move and here you are askin' about me instead."

A sly smile curled Evelyn's red lips as she gazed up at him. "You were worried about me," she teased.

He squirmed uncomfortably. If ghouls could blush, Evelyn thought, he would definitely have been blushing. Could ghouls blush? The heat she felt under her palm certainly seemed to answer the question. Before he could reply, she asked, "where are the others?"

"Preston's taking Dogmeat for a walk. Deacon decided to go ahead and head back to… 'HQ?' Whatever that is. He said you'd understand."

Evelyn sat up forcefully, the sudden movement causing her to cry out in pain. Startled, Hancock set a hand on her shoulder to support her and narrowed his eyes on her. "You shouldn't go around movin' like that, not when you're this injured. You got a death wish, Sister?"

"Deacon shouldn't be traveling anywhere alone! We almost lost him once and it was hell to try and get him back —" she protested with a growl, trying to get to her feet, but Hancock set steady hands on her shoulders, keeping her right where she was. Despite the pain blooming through her whole body with each struggle she made, she continued to try and fight him off so she could go after him.

"It's pointless! He left hours ago. We couldn't stop him. He was determined to get that chip to someone named 'Desdemona' to get it analyzed —"

She whipped her head back to stare at him with fury reflected in her ice gray eyes. "What chip?"

"Oh," Hancock blinked several times as realization hit him. "You were unconscious when it all happened… right."

Before he could explain, two figures emerged into the shack; Preston, shouldering his laser musket dutifully, and Dogmeat, bounding up to the sitting couple with a furiously wagging tail. Settling right in Evelyn's lap, he began licking at her face eagerly; biting back the groan of discomfort when her body was jostled by the shepherd, she put on a smile and scratched behind his ears, giving him all the attention he'd been aching for. Hancock glanced over at Preston, saying, "you wanna tell her what happened with that… thing?"

"What thing — oh." The Minuteman's brows furrowed and he frowned. "I — well… the leader of that cult… he was… well, he was a synth."

Evelyn's eyes widened. He was a… synth. "A synth… who believed other synths are abominations," she breathed, shuddering. "Or — did he even know he was a synth…? I… I have so many questions."

"We thought it was weird, too," Preston answered gravely. "That's why Deacon wanted to head to the HQ immediately. He's going to get the chip he found analyzed. May give us a lead on the Institute's plans and activities."

Evelyn was still reeling from the news. She ran a hand through her hair out of habit and attempted to gain control over her whirling thoughts; if this chip could get them some information on the Institute, then maybe… maybe it could get her a step closer to finding Shaun. She felt a hand squeeze her shoulder and her eyes lifted to Hancock, who was watching her with concern. "We have to get to the Headquarters," she insisted fervently. Almost desperately. "We have to go now. That information could lead me closer to…"

"I know," he responded, voice uncharacteristically soft. "We need to get you some help, first, though."

She shook her head, attempting once again to stand up, causing Dogmeat to slip out of her lap. He sniffed the air, darting off; after giving them both an uncertain look, Preston went after the shepherd. Evelyn, still struggling to stand, was vehement about leaving. "No. We need to go now —"

"If you push yourself too hard, you'll die," Hancock admonished in a growl, retaining a firm grip on her shoulders. "I can't —" he hesitated — "we can't lose you, okay? So let's just get you up to Sanctuary and you can use your little Pip Boy there to contact Deacon for updates. I know you want to find your son… but you can't find him if you're dead."

For a moment, Evelyn considered arguing anyways, despite knowing he was right; her desperation to find her son urged her to go after Deacon, her current status be damned. But Hancock did have a point; how could she take on the Institute and rescue her son if she was dead…? The thought of not getting to him as soon as possible had tears welling up in her eyes and she tried to blink them back. Hide them. Don't show your tears to anyone.

A hand came up, thumb brushing over her cheek to wipe the stray tear that stubbornly slipped its way out. When Evelyn met Hancock's gaze, she found warmth and reassurance in his expression. "You know what my personal motto is?" he asked softly. "When someone needs helpin', we help 'em. When someone needs hurtin', we hurt 'em. Your son needs help… so we're gonna help 'im. I guarantee it."

Despite her sorrow, she couldn't help but smile. And there it was again — that heat, that comfort, that wonderfully sweet burn that filled her stomach and made every inch of her light on fire. They were relatively alone, although she could hear Dogmeat and Preston nearby; her gaze drifted to the ghoul's lips, wondering for the hundredth time what it would be like to feel them. Taste them. Would he taste smoky, like a cigarette? A delightfully bitter burn, like bourbon? Deceptively sweet, like wine?

She knew he could feel it too, because the hands on her shoulders slowly and carefully glided down her arms, leaving goosebumps all over her skin underneath her uniform; the way the ghoul touched her was gentle, almost in awe; as if she was a holy relic he was afraid to break. Her hands found their way back up to his cheeks, stroking the rough skin as she shifted closer, pain be damned. They were trembling, with both fear and anticipation, wanting so desperately to close that small distance, and yet…

"— Oh! General!" The voice of Preston broke the two from their little bubble and Evelyn immediately pulled back, suddenly finding herself short of breath. Preston came back in the shack, glancing back to make sure Dogmeat was trailing behind him, and quickly rifled through his coat pockets. "Earlier when I was walking with Dogmeat, we found a place nearby that looks like it could be a good settlement. Problem is — it's crawling with ferals. But I did manage to search one of the houses there and found a Stimpak. Here. It should help until we can get back to Sanctuary and let someone have a look at you. If I remember correctly, one of our new settlers is a doctor. He can help."

Hancock reached to take the Stimpak and pulled the protective casing off the needle, carefully inserting it into Evelyn's arm. As the medicine flowed through her, she could feel the pain fading, being replaced with something that felt like a cool river flooding her whole body. Immediately she felt much more at ease; with the ghoul's help, she slowly got to her feet. The going would be slow, she was sure of that, but at least she was able to walk on her own. Grateful gray eyes moved between Preston and Hancock. "Thank you both," she said sincerely. "I would be dead if it weren't for you."

Leaning down with a little effort, she gave Dogmeat a scratch on the ears and a bright smile. "And Deacon would be dead if it wasn't for you! Good boy, Dogmeat." At that, the German shepherd wagged his tail, ears perking happily.

"This place is on the way to Sanctuary," Preston added as the trio and their animal companion set forth in a northern direction. "We shouldn't stop long and I certainly don't think we'll be able to clear all of those ferals out, but I'd at least like to mark the place down so we can send some folks out here. It was definitely large enough to make a great settlement."

When they encroached on the border of the area Preston had mentioned, Evelyn had to admit, he was onto something. This place was spacious and had a large warehouse in the center of it that would be perfect for a community hub. "Sunshine Tidings Co-Op," a large banner on the side of the warehouse announced as they inched closer. Upon further examination, she could also see all the ferals her companion had mentioned; a few of them were pacing around outside in the open, but most of them, as she scanned the place, were in the circle of dilapidated houses. "We could at least clear out that warehouse in the center," she suggested quietly. "Perhaps there's something of use in there that we can take with us."

After coming to an agreement, they snuck out from behind a half-ruined house and began centering in on the large warehouse. Any feral along the way was met with the butt of Hancock's shotgun or Preston's musket; they avoided firing shots so they wouldn't attract attention from the others, and it was a good tactic. Other than the few wandering aimlessly outside, the group was unbothered. When they made it to the edge of the warehouse, a robotic voice gave Evelyn pause and she held the others back from barging inside.

"Groovy… … … Far out…!"

Evelyn peeked inside, brow raised. "It's a… Mister Handy?" she hesitantly said.

"Never met a Mister Handy that sounded like that," Preston muttered. Evelyn carefully limped out from around the corner and waited for the little robot to notice and attack. Only it never attacked; hell, it never even noticed her. It just drifted around aimlessly, muttering the same nonsensical babble.

As the others joined her inside the open building, Dogmeat seemed to run toward the robot, sniffing it curiously, before settling back on his haunches and watching it drift around while tilting his head back and forth. Hancock stared at the little robot with a half grin on his face. "I don't know what kind of setting this thing is on, but I can dig it."

Evelyn chuckled. "I wonder how he got here. Why he's programmed this way."

"Maybe that terminal can give us a clue," Preston suggested, motioning to a desk on the opposite wall. Evelyn hastened over to it, still limping and walking rather stiffly, and moved to hack into it. Accessing the terminal wasn't difficult, and within moments she was inside, reading and shuffling through the files.

"Wow, this little guy's had it rough," she muttered as her eyes scanned the screen. "Looks like this place used to be run by a group of people who went around 'freeing' Mister Handies from their 'slave owners.' This one was one of them — but it was so intent and desperate to get back to its owners that they had to 'zoink' his brain, as they put it, and put him into a mode called 'just be.' His name is… Professor Goodfeels."

Evelyn couldn't stop the giggles from coming out; before she knew it she was practically belly-laughing and Hancock joined in. "Professor Goodfeels," she wheezed, wiping a tear from her eye. Once she was able to compose herself, she said, "he's got other modes I can switch him to, but I'm afraid of what may happen if we do."

"I kinda like him the way he is," Hancock countered smugly. "Digging the world as it is; floatin' around, owing nothin' to nobody… he's got the perfect life."

"You know, that's exactly how these folks put it," Evelyn said wryly, backing out of the terminal and straightening up with some effort. "I wonder if they take as much Jet as you do."

"If they do, I'll bet my nose there's a hidden stash 'round here," the ghoul replied, eyes glinting wolfishly. "When we come back, I'll be sure to find it."

Evelyn chuckled again, lifting her arm to mark the location on its map. "I'll make damn sure we come back. But you know, I've got my own stash of Jet back at Sanctuary."

The excitement that filled Hancock's eyes was almost childish. "I'm gonna assume that's an offer to partake in said stash."

Her grin widened. "Perhaps. That depends on how well you behave."

It didn't take a genius to see the effect that had on the ghoul. She could practically hear the boi-oi-oing as his shoulders stiffened up, eyes widening in shock before narrowing in an almost predatory look. "You gonna put a leash on me now, Sister?"

Evelyn stuck her tongue out at him playfully. "You look like you might like a leash."

Only Preston's irritated groan broke the two out of their banter and Evelyn smiled sheepishly as she headed toward one of the warehouse exits. "Sorry, Preston."

"I'm not," she heard the ghoul mutter from behind her as they all continued heading north.

Destination: Sanctuary.