Note: Took a while to coordinate my dialogue. I'm currently very active in a RP group on Facebook, so...

Hancock continues to give me hell. (minor edits)

A plinking noise sounded. She heard it through the gunfire being laid down by raiders at Haymarket Mall, because she felt something hit her in the ass―Ruby's eyes followed the bottle cap as it hit the ground, widening in annoyance.

"Goddammit, John, quit!" she hissed, glancing back at him as they took cover behind the corner of a building.

Hancock threw his hands up, holding his shotgun at the sky, and stared back at her with those blank black eyes of his. She pressed her lips together and glared at him as hard as she could. His mouth twitched, curling up to the side. Neither one of them said a word more, staring each other down.

Ruby directed her attention back to the raiders, aiming her laser rifle at the remaining enemies. Knew better than to let herself get distracted―

She might have laughed. The whole of this was absurd. John had been tossing caps at her for the past hour, maybe even longer; she hadn't noticed it until they'd walked past Taffington Boathouse and she caught him out of the corner of her eye.

Ignored it at first. She assumed he was bored and looking for a way to keep himself occupied in a mostly uneventful trip through the Commonwealth. But he hadn't stopped, even in the middle of a combat situation.

Hell if she knew why he was throwing caps at her, now. Maybe he was in a good mood. She didn't mind that. John being in a good mood usually meant he'd been taking his "medicine". And it should have done them some good, if he wasn't sober.

But she doubted it. John always was ten times more aggravating when he was sober.

Ruby groaned internally, lining up a shot on a raider who was stupid enough to poke his head out of cover. Maybe he was right. Maybe she couldn't handle him sober. When they'd met, both of them were in need of hope, in need of someone to show them the way. She'd gotten better. John... just seemed to get worse.

Just kept being John. Ruby wasn't sure why they'd gotten along to begin with. Something needed aired to resolve the situation, but―damned if she could tell what that might be, or if she could resolve it.

Her teeth were grinding against each other by the time the raiders were dead. Another bottle cap bounced on her hip, striking off to the side. She didn't even look, but jerked open the doors and strode into the building angrily.

The brightness of the fire burning in the lobby caught her off guard, causing her confusion. The momentary distraction made her forget that there were probably raiders inside the place―she'd moved backward, her shoulder hitting something solid but soft, as she fought to see through the brightness.

Hancock's shotgun came up alongside her ear. She jerked away just as he fired on a raider hiding behind the brightness, reeling from the closeness of the shot―her ears rang from the report, as she stumbled to the side. Another raider came flying out of the fire-blinded room, wielding a pool cue.

The fight was over with almost as soon as it began, and Ruby gathered her senses about her―more raiders on the second floor landing, didn't have time to react, just fired into the building and ducked to the left for cover.

Another bottle cap bounced off her ass, clinking against the tile as it flew off into the darkness.

Goddammit!

The roof access led to an open area that had once been beautiful. Ruby could imagine; the fountain spewing water, the ground covered by blossoming flowers and lush grass, the decorative rail stretching across the edge for safety. Benches here and there, the view of the area about them... it was nearly serene, in her mind's eye, if not for the distant sound of gunshots and the overpass so near to the place.

It was once a sanctuary. She stared at the cars that had fallen onto the garden. Hancock wandered about behind her, muttering something that she didn't pay attention to―

For a brief moment, her mind pushed her back to the past. She could imagine the cars as they sped by on the overpass above, zooming sounds and faint honks of drivers who'd they felt they'd been wronged. The people of Haymarket would come here, sit themselves in the middle of the Boston area, and stare at the Mass Fusion building's logo. Would pretend that they were anywhere but in the middle of the sprawling urban development.

Maybe it was silly of her, but she felt the twinge of loss for what might have been. The world hadn't been able to survive what humanity'd brought to the table. Everything she'd known... everything she was trying to bring back to the wastes, was what caused this.

What Elder Maxson had lectured about, when she faced him in order to spare Danse. Maxson was right, that science had led the world into an abyss. But maybe... no, even in the right hands she expected that science would outpace itself, once more.

The scene in her mind dissolved into the reality of the wastes, too quickly. Ruby sighed. She'd tried not to hold onto that memory of what was. It only caused pain, only reminded her that she had no right to go about changing this place.

Changing the Commonwealth into what she'd grown up with, trying to revert it to something that was impossible... was almost as bad as what had happened.

Lately, with everything going on, she'd been pushing for that. To change the world around her, make it reflect what she remembered, to make it "better"―but was it better? The dangers of the world were only a step away, and they overpowered the fantasy better than any novel or movie might have.

Having Hancock behind her reinforced that thought. His existence as Hancock had been dedicated to making things "better". In order to do so, he'd become the chem-using ghoul that he was.

She'd thought of him as both the monster and the savior. Maybe that estimation was unnecessary, or downright mean. But it seemed accurate, to her. Hancock was acutely aware of the problems of living in the Commonwealth. He'd consistently reminded her that the real danger here was people. Including himself.

Was why she'd wanted him around, back then. Having him at her back kept her from screwing things up in the wastes, kept her from making stupid decisions about the bastards in the wastes. Even though he'd been fairly laid back, he wasn't afraid to let her know when something would mess with the status quo. Wasn't afraid to criticize her choices and make her think.

MacCready might have her back, no matter what, but... she needed the simple intuition that Hancock brought to the table. Danse bullied her into action on occasion―she rolled her eyes. Like a real brother might, and probably just as annoying. She liked that he wasn't afraid to speak his mind, but she disliked his attitude.

Hancock would ask a question and throw her whole world into chaos. Then he'd act innocent, ignoring that he'd asked at all, and she'd let him get away with that because...

It was infuriating. Exciting. Challenging, and provoking, and... highly attractive.

She glanced back at him. He was looking out over the distance, black eyes oblivious to her, looking thoughtful.

Maybe, if things had been different between them, she'd―

Ruby shook her head. She doubted that would have ever been an option. Wasn't because he was a ghoul, or something inane like that―she'd always supported that people were people, and their actions and words meant more than physical limits or appearance. A cornerstone of being the prosecutor she wanted to become was knowing that there was always a weak spot. Always something else to exploit.

She and Hancock... just couldn't get along, she felt. She'd been so preoccupied with her own problems, and―well, Hancock had tried to keep things lighthearted, picking at Danse even when he was trying to make it better. His contribution to her breakdown had been an attempt to soothe her emotions with wholehearted support―like MacCready might―but the minute that heart had been scorned by her insult he'd left.

After that... he'd tried a Danse tactic. Bullied her about telling MacCready the truth, sprinkled in with a handful of his own goals. Went back to pretending he wasn't bothered after it was obvious she'd come to terms with MacCready, joking with her and trying to deny anything had happened.

She'd reacted very badly to that. With the attacks going on, she'd been easily agitated. Danse had made her uncomfortable―she still couldn't say precisely why she'd elbowed MacCready off of her―and Hancock's childish tantrum and saying he'd leave again only made her lose her temper.

Ruby sighed, rubbing her face. It was bad timing. Hancock was smart enough to try his hand at various schemes, but he was still John. And John... he'd never known what to do with himself, according to himself.

Maybe he wanted to be sober because of that. To remember who he was, and why he'd run away from it all. To confront it? He was... trying to better himself?

Why, though. Why did Hancock feel the need to clean himself up? He'd been unabashed about his chem use, before. She'd never said a word about him flying high, so long as he didn't make trouble. And he hadn't.

Until she did that Jet on the pier. Until she said she didn't want any chems. That was when it went to hell, and when he'd stopped using.

She stared at the distance. It... made sense, in a way. But, God, she really hoped he wasn't trying to change himself because―that would just be the end-all of her patience with him, and she didn't think she could handle it any better than the hedge incident.

Ruby turned to look at him, lips parting in an unspoken word. John's eyes swiveled in their sockets, immediately on her. "John," she asked, softly.

"Yeah, sister?" he asked, curiouslly. He shifted his weight and faced her.

"I..." she began, but something caught her eye. Movement at the edge of the roof. Ruby immediately brought up her rifle and set her feet, narrowing her eyes. John backed up a step and got into position, aiming alongside her.

Well, she'd never had to worry about his ability to fight. Hancock knew what he was doing, there. She pushed the smile off of her face and breathed out, watching the broken railing.

A Deathclaw clawed it's way onto the roof, the arrival on solid footing accompanied by her fervent swearing. Why did she seem to find these things at the worst possible times? Her inner voice joked that it seemed appropriate to find a physical threat as dangerous as the emotional one she was expecting with Hancock―

The Deathclaw roared, throwing out its claws. Spittle flew from it's mouth, sparkling drops of saliva catching the sun. The glistening whiteness of its skin startled her, under the bright light. An albino―a rarity even in the wastes―but ten times more frightening than the regular variety. This monster couldn't hide like the others might―it bounded in a serpentine across the debris toward them as Hancock made a pissy remark, unloading his shotgun into it.

She couldn't react, right away. Frozen in fear, she stood with her rifle up and her fingers still on the trigger as the Deathclaw raised it's arm up and brought it down on the ghoul.

She was remembering―the Gullet. Getting slammed onto the ground had been terrifying. The pain that she'd felt, back then, came rippling over her body as she watched Hancock facing down the thing. Remembered the cracking of her ribs―the ache of her arm when it snapped like a twig under the thing's grip―being sucked down into the Gullet, going under the water, and panicking because she couldn't breathe―

Her feet started to move before she realized it, throwing out a hand to shove Hancock away from the assault. She jammed her rifle under the chin of the albino and fired repeatedly, gritting her teeth in anger and fear―

Her ears started to ring, again. The sudden cacophony of the previously quiet place cut through her mind like a saw, her eyes filled with the brilliance of her rifle's shots, watching it's powerful muscles moving under pale hide. Blood spattered over the ground and her suit, hot like acid and stinging her.

The Deathclaw swept out an arm, knocking her backward and over the ground with speed. The front of her suit tore, then the skin underneath, and her back hit something hard. She didn't stop moving, the rebound off the derelict car slamming her head into the frame―

Christ, but if that wasn't a pain and a half. Hancock settled himself against the closed door, one knee up and the other on the ground as he lit a cigarette and tilted his tricorn back on his head.

Ruby laid on the ruined carpet of the room, in front of him. He'd gotten the bleeding to stop. After the Deathclaw tossed her into the car like a ragdoll, after he'd managed to put enough shells into the bastard's head, and after he'd moved her to the relatively safer side room.

The damage was worse than he'd thought. He only had some sewing skills, to do anything about it. Stimpak or two cleared up the bleeding in a few minutes, but she had some nasty-looking gouges in both her Vault and her birthday suit.

He breathed out, letting the smoke curl up around his face. If it weren't for her shriek of rage behind him, he would've lost his balance when she pushed him back. Lucky for her, he always was graceful on his feet.

Hancock smiled, painfully, rubbing his shoulder through the coat. Deathclaw were damn tough beasts. Not as tough as him, but tough enough to make the scars worth having. It was one less out there, he wouldn't complain. Made him feel good, no matter what the bastard he'd taken down.

Ruby stirred on the floor, moving one arm over her stomach and hissing in pain as she agitated the wounds. "Take it easy, sister," he muttered, through the cigarette.

"What the hell happened," she moaned, putting her arm back on the floor. Laid there without moving, her eyes locked on the ceiling.

"Well," he said, brushing a piece of dirt from his leg and adjusting himself against the door, "won the fight."

Ruby groaned, then brought her hand up and covered her face. "Hurts," she mumbled.

"Got yourself a little wasteland surgery," he told her, putting out his cigarette.

"Come help me sit up, John," she said, sounding weak.

"You sure about that?"

"...Yes," she said, but the pause made him wonder. He pushed himself up, moving across the floor in a few steps, and reached out a hand to her. Ruby grabbed it with both of hers, holding it tightly as she tried to pull herself up from the carpet.

A flash of a second later she fell back, loosing his hand and groaning. "Dammit," she complained, her eyes shut to everything, face in a grimace.

Hancock put one knee down beside her, resting an elbow on his leg and his chin in his hand. "I never saw someone so wanting for pain, sister," he said, staring at her. "You're one of a kind."

Ruby's mouth twitched into a pained smile. "I never asked you to put yourself in harm's way for me," she murmured, breathing shallowly.

"You martyr yourself like that, you're gonna end up dead," he said, lowering his gaze to her outfit. Nice view, but wished the situation was different. Ruby had a long scar on her side, could see through the shredded fabric. He tilted his head, moving his hand down to cover the spot.

She jerked at his touch, smacking his hand roughly. "The hell are you doing?" she snapped, reeling from the sudden motion.

"Doubt you want me to see the goods, sister," he chuckled.

Ruby lowered her hand and looked up at him, emotions running across her face with such rapid speed he could barely catch them all. "And me without a party hat," she said, faintly, her mouth tugging up into a smile.

Hancock laughed, grinning at her. "You'd wear it better," he shot back.

"You know it," she said, weakly. "Are there any more stimpaks, John?"

He settled himself onto the floor beside her. "Nah, used the last here," he said. "Want me to run out for milk and cigarettes, too?"

"Would you come back?" she countered, her tone growing serious.

"Let you have that one," he muttered darkly, staring across the room. She knew his limits as much as he did. Made his heart flop dully in his chest, though. Picking another fight. And he couldn't take off, this time. Fuck, she picked her battles like a pro.

"If things were different―" Ruby started, but coughed and groaned loudly.

"They ain't, sister," he said, pointedly. "I only fight the bastards out there. Won't fight you, too."

"Are..." she sighed, and he could feel her eyes digging into the side of his head. "Are you sober, John?"

"Kicking a dead Brahmin, again," he answered, trying to control his irritation.

"You can't run away," she stated, flatly. "I just got my ass handed to me. Answer the damn question, John."

She had him on a real short rope. She knew it, too. Hancock breathed out through what was left of his nose. Tried to collect his thoughts. Ought to pop a few Mentats, make it easier, but―he chuckled to himself. He'd never felt like he could keep himself on the straight and narrow for so long, and now some untapped reserve had been found.

"Guess the barrel's got so many holes, makes it easier to climb out," he said, shrugging one shoulder.

"You are trying to do better," she whispered, almost too quietly to hear.

Hancock looked back at her and held his tongue between his teeth for a moment. "You asked how many chems it took, to forget it all."

She frowned, then stared up at the ceiling. "I did?"

"When we went to get Big Iron."

Ruby nodded, then, moving her eyes back to him and frowning in concentration. "...And you said..." she sighed. "You said you can't run away."

"Yeah," he said. The room got very quiet. "John didn't go anywhere. Put on the cape to help people. Not to forget him."

"Always knew superheroes would rather be ordinary," she put in, while he tried to figure out what to say. "Never thought I'd get to meet one, myself."

Hancock pulled out another cigarette and lit it, raising his knee to lean an elbow on. "Being around you, I remember better." He breathed out, watching the smoke with clipped eyes.

"Which makes you see how bad things were." Ruby grunted, putting her hand on the carpet and pushing a little. "And... compare it?"

" 'Bumfuck'," he said, in a low voice.

"You know I didn't mean―" she answered, grabbing his coat and pushing and pulling herself up to a sit. "I did apologize."

"You're out here making civilization from the ground up with nothing going for you but a silver tongue and lucky breaks," he told her, keeping his eyes on the far wall.

"Don't compare your good deeds to what I've done," she said, sorely. "I used people to get what I wanted, and threw a damn hissy fit when I didn't get it."

John chuckled. "So, it's okay when you say it?" he muttered.

"No one is going to let you throw out accusations without defending themselves." She moved closer to him, hissing in pain. Put her legs out in front of her, sitting beside him and staring at the ruined wall ahead of them. One hand went to her stomach and her ruined suit, and the other snaked around his side, grabbing his shoulder.

"Yeah," he agreed, wondering what she was doing. Ruby laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, heaving a sigh.

Shit. His hand twitched, wanting to go around in turn, but she pinned it to his side. He settled for grabbing her hand on his shoulder with three fingers, holding the cigarette so that it wouldn't burn her.

"John, you know―"

"Wish you wouldn't call me that," he grumbled, looking away from her.

"You know more about this world than I ever will. You might have left Diamond City for a worse place, but you turned around and you made that place better." Ruby swallowed, he could feel her neck muscles moving. "I came out of time itself, without being prepared for what I'd find, and I flopped on the shore like a fish out of water. You lived this, you stood up, you said you wouldn't take it. I... wanted my son back. It's not the same."

He moved his hand to tap the cigarette and felt her fingers tighten on his shoulder. "You turned yourself into something you didn't have to be, to make things right. I just kept being Ruby. You really are a goddamn superhero, John."

The way she said it... made his heart swell. She admired him. That heart she asked for, she wanted it but she couldn't handle it. Like he was too much for her to have. Like she was borrowing his power to make hers work.

He smiled, pitched the cigarette, and rubbed her hair. "Alright, sister," he said, moving to stand. "I'll take it."

"Help me up," she groaned, trying to put weight on her arm. "Let's hit up Goodneighbor, then get out of here."

"More innocents to save?"

"Long as I don't have to be Jangles the moon monkey," she replied, dryly.

"You do get paid with shit," he said, amused.

Ruby groaned. "Damn you, Hancock."