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~(:(Chapter Five):)~

I awoke slowly the next morning, a soft light coming from the bottom crack of my bedroom door. My body was sore from yesterday and I stretched, the thin quilt sliding down.

When I had trudged into the clinic, dripping with irradiated sewage, Dr. Amari just looked at me in exasperation and wordlessly pointed to the tub in the corner. She had sanitized my skin within an inch of its life, throwing my clothes in afterwards with almost a full box of Abraxo. I'm sure I lost a couple of freckles in the process. The doctor didn't even bother giving me a lecture, just a transfusion of Rad Away with an extra one to take with me.

Glancing at the glow from under the door, I frowned. Was that daylight?

I reached towards the nightstand, patting around for my pip-boy. Finding it, I pulled the device to my face. The screen flickered on and my eyes squinted at the green numbers.

11:06 a.m.

Throwing the covers, I surged out of bed, cursing to myself. I wrenched my dresser drawer open, nearly pulling it from its slot as I frantically whipped out some clothes.

I slept in. I never sleep in, not this late. Why didn't Jack wake me up? Fear pumped through my veins. Jack didn't wake me up. That could only mean one thing.

Something was wrong.

I yanked on my clothes, not caring if they were inside-out. Was it an attack? Supermutants? No, wait, it was too quiet. Maybe Jack left. Maybe he had an accident. Maybe he was…

My boots were jammed on my feet, still damp from yesterday, and I burst through the door—coming face-to-face with Jack. The ghoul had a startled look for a moment before it morphed back into his usual stern mask.

"Hey," he grumbled. "I was just coming to get you."

"Jack," I breathed in relief, collapsing back against the doorframe. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Jack opened his mouth then closed it. He fiddled with the strap to his armbrace, head down as if it required all of his attention.

"You had a hard day, yesterday," he replied. "I thought you could use the extra rest."

I blinked in confusion. "What about training?"

He pressed his mouth into a firm line, still not meeting my eyes.

"Figured you could take it easy today. We can pick up training tomorrow."

My brows rose as I stared at him. No early wakeup call? No training? The panic from earlier faded away, warmth taking its place.

Jack was a hard-ass—no one would deny it. He wasn't the type to talk about his feelings or any of that "mushy crap," as MacCready called it. He never apologized, either, saying it was a sign of weakness. But that's exactly what this was. An apology.

"Okay," I said with a soft smile.

He lifted his gaze. "Okay?"

His tone was uncertain and it bothered me. The ghoul's words last night had hurt more than he knew, but that wasn't his fault. It was mine, for keeping my illness a secret. Unless I wanted to spill the beans—which would only make things worse—then I just had to suck it up.

"Yeah, Jack," I sighed. "It's okay."

The old soldier straightened, his posture shifting back to its confident pose.

"Good," he said with a nod. He cleared his throat, reaching for the strap over his shoulder. "You left your tools. And we managed to find your—"

"My torch!" I exclaimed happily as Jack handed over my tool kit. The top of it stuck out of the crammed bag, the head chamber shining dully as if someone had scrubbed it clean. I clutched the heavy satchel in my arms.

"Thanks, Jack," I said warmly.

"Sure," his voice rumbled. "Oh, I think Daisy was cooking up some hotcakes, if you're hungry."

I gave a hum. Hotcakes did sound good, right now.

After a moment, Jack excused himself and I stepped back into my room. Putting the tool kit on the floor I took a look at myself. I didn't do too bad, considering how quickly I had thrown on clothes. I was wearing a pair of dark blue jeans with tears in the knees and a two-toned Zeta Invaders shirt.

I switched out my damp boots for some red and white sneakers and pulled on my green hoodie, the long grey sleeves of the shirt slipping through the frayed arm holes. Situating the rest of my gear, I headed out of the State House towards the town's front courtyard.

The sky was clear today and the afternoon sun beat down from above, lighting up the street. It didn't really improve the view, if I were being honest. Goodneighbor looked better at night with the soft glow of lamps and the buzzing neon signs. The light of day just made the filthy streets and piles of garbage more noticeable.

Walking towards Daisy's Discounts, the shop she managed, a figure blocked my path.

Finn leered down at me, his arms crossed over his leather jacket and a week's worth of stubble on his face. He was a thug, always trying to make some caps by extorting the drifters even though Hancock had warned him off several times.

"Hey there, Sammy," he smirked. "You think about my offer?"

I glared up at him. Finn wanted me to bring him a portion of the supplies I scavenged so he could sell them in town. He thought "giving it away" was a wasted opportunity, and I could be rolling in caps instead—with his help, of course.

"Not interested," I snapped.

"Aw, don't be like that," he drawled. "I'd give you a fair cut."

I snorted, not believing the greedy thug for one moment. I wasn't doing it to make money, anyway.

Hancock already paid me for the supplies, a couple hundred caps every time. At first, I had given them to Amari to pay for my medicine. Re-Gen was rare, which meant it was expensive. Whoever managed to find some would probably want to get paid for their efforts. But after a while she told me to stop, having gathered more than enough to cover the cost, and then some. Now, I just toss any caps I get in a large bin back at the dam, where they sit and collect rust.

"I don't care about caps, Finn," I said. "My answer is no."

I went to go around him but his hand shot out, gripping my upper arm like a vice.

"Don't you walk away from me!" Finn snarled, his fingers digging in.

He yanked me to him and my free hand automatically moved over my holster. The thug noticed and froze for a second before sneering down at me.

"Tell me somethin', sunshine," he growled. "When you gunna stop fuckin' around with those ghouls and get with a real man?"

The rage at his comment had my lips pulling back, bearing my teeth. My hand tightened on Meg's grip, a finger tensing over the safety.

I was pissed, sure, but was it really worth shooting him over? "You have to be strong, and don't take shit from anyone," Fahrenheit had said. I was almost positive Hancock wouldn't be too mad about it. Still, having a shoot-out in the middle of town wasn't the best of ideas, not to mention dangerous.

"A real man?" came a voice dripping with cheerful sarcasm. "Where? I don't see one."

We both turned to look at Ian, the drifter. He stood not four feet away, his hands casually stuffed in his pockets. I blinked at him, startled that I didn't notice his approach. Guess I was distracted.

"What?" Finn asked, also confused by the drifter's sudden appearance.

"No, really," Ian continued, grinning. "I've been trying to find one for ages, so if you could just point him out, that would be great."

The thug finally registered the insult and gave him a scowl. "Look scaver, this got nuthin' to do with you, so why don't you fuck off and mind your business before I beat you into the ground."

Ian rocked back on his heels, looking completely unbothered by the threat.

"Yeah, sure. Totally get it," he cracked. "I'm, like, the best at minding my own business. It's kinda what I do."

Finn grumbled low in his throat, getting frustrated with the strange man. His grip on me tightened and I jerked my arm, the handgun sliding an inch out of its holster.

"There's just one thing." Ian nodded his head towards Finn's hand. "You sure you want to be doing that? 'Cuz the last guy who got a little handsy with Sam, here, ended up with a knife in his stomach, in case you forgot."

The thug stilled, his grip loosening.

"But, hey, if you don't mind your guts decorating the street like bloody confetti…"

The drifter's words trailed off, letting the image sink in. His grin was still plastered to his face but it took on a hard edge. If he wasn't wearing those sunglasses, I was sure his eyes would be just as flinty.

Finn released me with a shove and I stumbled back a few steps, putting myself out of his reach. My arm was sore and I knew there would be a nasty bruise later. The thug pinned me with an angry stare.

"You're lucky you're Hancock's favorite," he grumbled. "It's the only reason a pretty little thing like you has lasted this long."

He stalked away, shoulder-checking Ian as he went by. The drifter patted his arm, as if to brush off imaginary dirt.

"Touchy," he quipped, his smile softening as he looked towards me. "You know, some people just have no chill."

My stance relaxed at his joking and I returned the grin. Ian may be a bit weird, but he definitely wasn't incompetent. That was a smart move, getting Finn to walk away like he did.

"That was pretty slick," I said.

The drifter gave a shallow bow with a dramatic flick of his wrist. "Finally! Someone appreciates my talent. I try so hard."

"Thanks, Ian," I said with a chuckle.

He straightened and studied me for a moment, his expression going serious before breaking into another smile. This one was different from the others, and I realized it was genuine.

"Any time, kiddo," he replied, walking past me to Scollay Square.

Yeah, definitely a weird one.

I continued on to Daisy's. The courtyard was fairly small with access to only one building. The front of the shops had mostly crumbled away, leaving gaping holes as entrances and the broken windows were covered up with boards. The building was separated into two sides, one being Kill Or Be Killed, KLEO's shop where the reprogramed Assaultron bot sold guns and ammo. The other side was Daisy's Discounts.

Daisy sold anything she could get her hands on, whether it was actually valuable or not. She would also sometimes cook up some food, if she had it in stock, making enough to sell a couple of meals.

I walked into the shop, immediately spotting the pre-war ghoul sitting on a stool behind the front counter. She was wearing her signature suit jacket—business attire, she called it—and her light brown hair was pulled back in a low bun. Although, I was pretty sure it was a wig as most ghouls didn't have hair. Not that I would ever say anything about it.

"Sammy!" Daisy smiled, her scarred face stretching. "I was wondering when you'd stop by."

She came around the counter and I met her halfway.

"Sorry," I said as she pulled me into a quick hug. "I had a busy day, yesterday."

The woman gave a hum, her voice rough like an old smoker's. "I heard about that. Jack said you almost drowned."

"I didn't almost drown," I muttered, rolling my eyes. "Jack is exaggerating."

"I'm sure he was. The old ghoul can be a bit of a worry wort when it comes to you." Daisy chuckled, giving my shoulder a squeeze. "Just try not to get into too much trouble, for my sake."

I raised a brow, wondering what she meant.

"Who do you think has to hear about it, whenever you do something Jack doesn't approve of?" she said with a sigh, though her black eyes shone with fondness.

The two pre-war ghouls had been spending more time together, I noticed. It made me smile. I didn't know much about Daisy's past, but she did mention her late husband had been in the army back before the bombs and was killed in action. And Jack, well, he had been alone for a long time; he'd never taken an interest in someone since I've known him. They weren't the type to declare they were dating, but I was almost positive they were seeing each other.

"Fine," I said with mock-exasperation. "I guess I'll behave. But only for you, Daisy."

She barked out a laugh. "Liar. We both know that isn't gunna happen."

I grinned. The woman had become a good friend over the years, almost like a surrogate mother. I was glad her and Jack were together. She had a "no-nonsense" attitude, like him, but was a bit more laid back. Hopefully, it would rub off on the old soldier.

"So, you hungry?" Daisy asked. "I saved you a plate of pancakes."

My grin widened and I nodded eagerly. "Starving."

"Good," she said, leading me to the small kitchen. "Oh, and I found some clothes I thought you might like. They're in a box in the back. Go ahead and look through it when you're done."

There were three pancakes stacked on a chipped plate, sitting on the countertop with an opened jar of mutfruit jelly. I slathered on the jelly and dug in, leaning on my elbows. The cakes were dense, probably made with milled razorgrain, but still tasty. I finished them quickly, washing it down with some coffee that was left in the pot next to the sink.

After cleaning my plate, I headed towards the back of the shop. There were shelves packed with various goods and crates stacked on top of each other, making the walkway a tight squeeze. I pulled down the overflowing box filled with clothes and sat on the dusty floor.

I picked out a shirt that wasn't too bad. It had a couple of holes at the hem and a stain on one sleeve, but still in fairly good condition. There was a pair of light jeans, too, with the back pocket and two belt loops torn. Nothing that couldn't be sewn up.

"So, how was your date with Joe?" came a woman's voice.

I looked towards the front of the shop. Two residents were sitting at one of the tables set up by the window, enjoying a fresh cup of coffee.

"Best I've had in a while," the other woman said, her voice a purr. "He sure knows how to use his hands."

I groaned quietly, turning back to the box and digging through it. I knew Joe; he was one of the Neighborhood Watch. He was relatively young, in his late twenties, with pale skin, dark hair and a play-boy smirk a mile long. I really didn't want to hear about his bedroom exploits.

"That good, huh?" the first woman chuckled.

Her friend made a provocative sound low in her throat. "Good enough to make a real woman outta ya."

I paused, my hands clutching a black sweatshirt.

Wait, was that true? I thought, an idea forming in my mind. Was that what I was missing? The reason everyone still treated me like a kid, because I've never…no, no that was stupid. That couldn't possibly be how it worked…could it?

I stood with a few articles of clothing folded over my arm, a frown creasing my face. The cancer in my lungs was getting worse and there was no telling when Amari would get the medicine I needed. The only thing I could do was hold out until she did. I needed to get stronger. Strong, like the adults. Like Fahrenheit.

It didn't really make sense to me, but… what else was there? I was already living on my own, traveling and scavenging on my own. I didn't have time to wait until I was older. I need to get strong now. It was the only thing I hadn't tried.

Walking to the front, I stopped by the counter. Daisy looked up from the book she was reading.

"Find something good?" she asked.

"Yeah," I lifted my bundle of clothes for emphasis. "Thanks, Daisy."

"Of course," the ghoul smiled. "It's the least I can do for all your help around—what's wrong sweetheart?"

Daisy's smile fell as she noticed my expression and I ran a hand over my face, as if to rub the frown away.

"Nothing," I replied, swiping my bangs to the side. "I just, uh—"

The door at the front gate opened, swinging loudly on the rusted hinges. I turned to look and a man walked in, one I didn't recognize. He was tall, over six feet, with short brown hair topped by a Stetson-style hat with one side pinned up. He wore a collared shirt with the sleeves rolled and faded cargo pants, military issue, all under some lightweight combat armor.

My eyes focused on the pip-boy latched to his wrist. They were rare but not so rare you couldn't find one, if you knew where to look. I had found mine in an old mechanics shop, hidden in a box under a pile of junk. He could have found his, like I did, or maybe he was from a vault.

The man glanced around then headed for the street that led towards the town's center. Finn, who was posted up by the stone partition, stepped forward, blocking the newcomer's path.

"Haven't seen you before," the thug said with a smirk. "You new to Goodneighbor?"

Daisy huffed beside me. "Looks like Finn found a new mark."

I studied the man again, noting his solid stance. He stood like Jack and had the definition of well-developed muscles under his clothing. He must have outweighed Finn by at least fifty pounds.

"Doesn't look like a good mark, to me," I mumbled.

The ghoul chuckled darkly. "That's because you're smart."

"Yeah," the newcomer said, shifting the pack on his shoulders.

"Well, Goodneighbor ain't like Diamond City, see," Finn continued. "It's a tough town, tough people. You can't just walk around without a little insurance."

"Insurance, huh?" the man said in a flat tone. "And how much is this insurance going to cost me?"

Finn grinned, grabbing his fist with a crack of his knuckles. "Everything in your pockets, or 'accidents' start happenin' to ya. Big, bloody, accidents."

The man's steel-grey eyes hardened and his lip curled up in a scowl. He opened his mouth to say something, but someone beat him to it.

"Whoa, whoa, time out." Hancock sauntered up to them with his casual swagger. "Someone steps through the gate the first time, they're a guest. I thought I told you to lay off that extortion crap."

Finn sneered at the mayor, forgetting about the newcomer. "What d'you care? He ain't one of us, just some scaver."

"No love for your mayor, Finn?" Hancock joked, his tone deceptively calm. "I ain't gunna tell you again. Now, let him go."

"You're getting soft, Hancock," the thug scoffed. "You keep letting outsiders walk all over us, one day there'll be a new mayor."

Hancock's black gaze flashed and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. I knew that look. It was the same look the ghoul had when he gutted that raider, two years ago. My hand reached out and clasped Daisy's arm, my eyes glued to the scene.

Finn was about to die.

That feral glint only lasted a second before Hancock's scarred face stretched into a grin.

"Come on, man. This is me we're talkin' about," the mayor drawled, clapping a hand on Finn's shoulder in a friendly way. "Hey, let me tell you somethin'."

Hancock drew him in, as if to speak quietly. The thug realized his mistake a moment before the switchblade plunged into his stomach. He jabbed it in twice and wrenched it out with a brutal twist. Finn dropped to his knees, lasting for a couple of seconds before his body fell to the side. Dead.

The mayor kneeled next to Finn's body, muttering to himself as he cleaned his blade on the thug's shirt.

"Poor sap," Daisy said softly. "That's what happens when you're too stupid to know when to back down."

I nodded absently, staring at the body. It was just like before, with the raider that attacked me. And just like before, I felt nothing. Seeing Finn's death didn't make me sad or happy, just a sort of numb acceptance. For some reason, the fact I felt nothing is what made me sad.

Daisy gave my hand a pat and went back to her stool to continue reading.

"Well, now. Ain't that one hell of a welcome," Hancock said as he stood and turned to the newcomer. "I know you could've handled him, but a mayor's gotta make a point sometimes."

The man gave the ghoul a onceover before his posture relaxed, a small smile lifting the corner of his mouth. "You certainly know how to make an entrance, I'll give you that."

"What can I say," Hancock chuckled. "First impressions are important."

He stuck his scarred hand out in greeting. "John Hancock, mayor of Goodneighbor."

I winced at the gesture. Most people didn't like being around ghouls, let alone touch one. Many of the ghouls have come to accept this and made an effort not to touch us smooth-skins, unless invited. I hated how they tolerated the prejudice but there wasn't much I could do about it.

Others were not so tolerant, including Hancock. He liked to push people, make them uncomfortable to "see what kind of person they are," he'd said. While I agreed with him, it still made for a very awkward interaction.

To my surprise, the newcomer clasped Hancock's hand in a firm handshake with no hesitation.

"Nate Peters," he said. "Commonwealth Minutemen."

The mayor's face split in a satisfied grin. "I think you and I are gunna get along just fine."

The two talked for a bit longer before the man, Nate, continued into town. Hancock turned to head back to the Old State House but stopped when he met my gaze, a frown creasing his face. He ambled over at a leisurely pace, his frown shifting to an easy smile.

"Hey, sunshine," the ghoul's voice rumbled. "Daisy! How's my favorite ghoul doin'?"

"John," Daisy replied, glancing up from her book with a smirk. "I thought you were your favorite ghoul?"

Hancock leaned on the counter with one arm. "Second only to you, beautiful."

"Ha!" she barked out a laugh. "And the number one bullshitter in town."

The mayor's roguish grin was teasing and attractive, like there was something about it that drew you in. Or maybe that was just him. Charismatic, I think they called it. It made my stomach do nervous flips and I cast my eyes down, hugging my bundle of clothes to my chest.

I thought about the two women from earlier, about what they said. When it came to romantic relationships, the only person I could think of was Hancock. I wasn't interested in anyone else, not in that way. And if that is what it took to become an adult, to become strong, then…

My brow furrowed, my mood turning sullen. That wasn't really the issue, was it?

"You okay, sunshine?"

I blinked up at Hancock who was now standing before me. He was taller than me—most people were—but not as tall as Jack, probably five-foot-ten or eleven.

"Yeah, why?" I said, puzzled. Hasn't he been asking me that question a lot recently?

"Just checkin'." Hancock jerked his head towards the courtyard. "That business with Finn got a bit messy."

My gaze drifted in that direction. Two Watchmen were picking up the body between them and heading for the door. It would be dumped somewhere outside of town, left for the ferals and other creatures to pick at. It was pretty gruesome, but there weren't many options in the city, not unless you wanted to dig through the concrete.

"Sure you're good?" Hancock asked again.

"I'm fine," I sighed. "Just going to put these away. Thanks again, Daisy."

The woman gave a grunt in response, absorbed in her book. I stepped past Hancock, ignoring his black gaze on me.

The more I thought about it, the more depressed I got. It didn't really matter if I wanted him. The real issue was whether or not he would want me.

~0~

The soldering gun smoked slightly as I worked on the old stereo. I was in The Third Rail, sitting on the makeshift stage that Magnolia used to perform her songs. It was one of the things Goodneighbor boasted about, having live music—something not even Diamond City had. Well, except for right now.

Despite the large number of people, the old subway was jarringly quiet compared to normal, with muted conversations here and there. The speaker that played Magnolia's accompanying music had stopped working about half an hour ago, much to the disappointment of the patrons. The woman herself didn't seem too mad, though, enjoying her extended break with a drink at the bar.

That newcomer, Nate, was also at the bar, a somber expression on his face. He was on his third glass of whiskey, staring absently in thought. Whatever he was thinking, he sure didn't look happy about it.

Setting the gun down carefully, I flicked through my pip-boy, reading over the stored text I had about electronics. The personal computer could hold a lot of data and I made good use of it. I had several entries of technical info, everything from plumbing systems to automotive repairs. Some I had copied straight from manuals I'd found and others were transferred from terminals—the parts that weren't corrupted, that is.

You never knew what bit of information would come in handy, so it was a good idea to collect as much as possible, just in case.

Turning back to the stereo, I rechecked all the connections.

"How's it lookin', Sammy?" Magnolia asked, stepping onto the stage. Her red sequined dress sparkled in the low light, drawing attention to her womanly figure.

"I think it's good to go," I replied.

"Hmm, let's give it a test run, shall we?" she purred.

"Sure."

I reached for the power cord and moved around to the back of the large speaker. Plugging it in, the sound crackled for a second before the melody of "Baby It's Just You" filled the air, echoing around the tunnel.

The patrons gave cheers and whistles as I closed up the panel. Standing, I brushed off my jeans.

"Thanks, sugar," the singer said, planting a quick kiss on my cheek. "You're a real lifesaver."

"No problem," I grinned. 'Lifesaver' was a bit dramatic, but I'd take the compliment.

Gathering my tools back into the satchel, I slung it over my shoulder. The music really livened up the dingy, dusty subway station, Magnolia's sultry voice greatly improving the atmosphere.

Both sides of the tunnel were blocked off by barricades and rubble, leaving just the station platform and a couple of maintenance rooms accessible. Wood flooring extended the platform all the way to the far wall, covering up the rails and making space for tables. There were also some couches that made up the lounge area and even a VIP section in the back room, where MacCready usually was.

I headed for the stairs that would take me back to the town's surface, weaving between tables. The bar wasn't really my scene and I needed to check in with Holliday, anyway, then get some sleep. It was only about ten o'clock but Jack would probably be waking me up early again.

Just coming down the stairs was Hancock with Fahrenheit close behind. I stopped in my tracks, my heart aching at the sight of him.

Ugh, seriously? I groaned quietly to myself. What the hell was wrong with me? I really didn't want to talk to Hancock again, at least not right now. In fact, the urge to hide was so strong my body was tensing, as if to bolt. Would it be too cowardly if I crawled under a table?

I didn't get a chance to decide as the mayor spotted me, changing his direction. I forced my feet to move, meeting him halfway.

"Didn't expect to see you here," Hancock said with an amused smirk, a cigarette hanging from the corner of his mouth. "What you doin' hanging around all these drunks for?"

I nodded towards the stage. "Speaker cut out a bit ago. I just fixed it."

"Good thing you did," Fahr muttered. "The music is the best thing about this place.

The ghoul grunted in agreement. "Can't drink warm beer without a little tune to help it go down. Good job, sunshine."

Heat crept up my neck at his praise and I shifted awkwardly. I really needed to go before I made a fool of myself.

"Sure, uh," I mumbled, taking a step to the side. "So, I'm just going to…"

I pointed lamely towards the stairs, taking another step. I didn't get far, Hancock throwing an arm over my shoulders and drawing me against him.

"Hey, what's the rush?" he said, taking his cig between two fingers. "We were just gunna go bother Mac. Crash his little VIP party."

He started walking towards the back room, pulling me with him.

"Come on," Hancock's voice rumbled close. "Let's kick back, relax. Have a drink, or five."

Fahrenheit chuckled behind us. "Sober Sam finally having a drink with us degenerates? We should mark this day on the calendar."

I craned my neck to glare at the woman, but it was half-hearted. To be honest, hanging out did sound fun, except for the drinking part. I hated the smell of alcohol; it reminded me of that raider, how his breath had reeked of it. But yeah… I could hang out for a bit.

Why? So I can sit there and pine for someone that's not interested in me?

I ducked under the ghoul's arm with a twirl, dancing around the armored woman.

"Sunshine?" Hancock called, confusion coloring his tone.

I turned towards them, a smile pasted on my face.

"Actually, I'm pretty tired," I chimed, slowly walking backwards. "And Jack will be waking me up early for training, so, I think I'm just going to hit the sack. Maybe next time?"

Not waiting for a response, I spun on my heel, walking to the stairs at a controlled pace. Yeah, I was running away, but that didn't mean I had to actually run.

I stomped up the stairway, out of the station and all the way to the second floor of the State House. In the sitting room, I dropped into the desk chair to hail Holliday.

The conversation was short—it usually was—just a check-in to make sure everything was good at the dam and to let the bot know I'd be heading back tomorrow night. Afterwards, I shuffled into my room, leaning back against the closed door.

I really was tired. And frustrated, mostly at myself. I was usually pretty good at ignoring my little crush on the mayor of Goodneighbor, even to the point of forgetting about it, but today… not so much. It must be because of what that woman in Daisy's shop said and the stupid idea it put in my head. Because it was stupid, and it wasn't going to happen.

If I had more confidence, I would walk right up to Hancock and ask him what he thought of me. But I wasn't confident and I already knew what he was going to say, anyway. I wasn't strong like Fahrenheit or… experienced like Jules. I was just awkward, sober Sam.

Sighing, I shrugged my tool kit off to the ground with a loud thud and started getting ready for bed. I unlatched the pip-boy and set it on the nightstand, Meg and its holster going under my pillow. Tugging off my upper layers, I slid on a thin tank-top I wore for sleeping.

I was just undoing my jeans when three knocks sounded. Frowning, I zipped them back up and went to the door, cracking it to see who was there.

"Hancock?" I opened the door all the way, staring dumbly at the ghoul. Why was he back so soon? "What is it? Is something wrong?"

He had an odd look on his face, as if he didn't know why he was there, either. After a moment he sighed, rubbing a hand over the back of his neck.

"I don't know, sunshine, you tell me," he said, arms crossing over his chest. "You doing okay?"

I made an irritated noise, stepping into the hallway and yanking my door closed with a bang. The movement put me toe-to-toe with the mayor.

"Why do you keep asking me that?" I huffed, mimicking his pose.

Hancock narrowed his gaze down at me, refusing to step back.

"That's the second time you walked away from me today," he grumbled. "You gunna tell me—what the hell is that?"

"What?" I asked, his change in tone throwing me off.

He was staring hard at my arm, anger flashing in those black orbs. The ghoul took my elbow gently, lifting my arm to show purplish stripes on my bicep with very distinct finger shapes.

Well, looks like Finn did leave his mark.

"Nothing," I said with a shrug. "It doesn't matter."

And it didn't; he was already dead. Hancock didn't seem to like that answer, though.

"The fuck it don't matter," he growled lowly. "Who did this?"

Even though he was pissed, Hancock's grip on me never tightened. He was careful like that, controlled, the complete opposite of his laidback persona. It made my heart skip a beat and I frowned, pulling my arm away.

"Finn," I stated, leaning back against the door.

The mayor's anger slowly faded away, an amused smirk taking its place. "Well, ain't that convenient? Looks like it's already taken care of."

I hummed in agreement. It was kind of weird, though, how Ian basically predicted the thug's death. Probably a coincidence.

"You're not just saying that 'cuz Finn's already outta the picture, right?" he speculated, lifting a brow.

Blinking, my mouth popped open.

"Huh, I never thought of that," I gave him a mischievous look. "But it's a good idea. Next time I get in trouble, I'll just blame it on a dead guy."

Hancock chuckled, a deep belly laugh. "Yeah, do me a favor and don't tell Jack you got the idea from me. He already thinks I'm a bad influence."

"Nope," I joked, unable to resist teasing the ghoul. "If Jack asks, I'm throwing you under the bus immediately."

He took a step back, hand on his chest in a dramatic pose. "Betrayal! And here I thought we were friends."

I smiled, my body relaxing against the door. I missed this, joking around like we used to when I was younger. It was moments like this that made all the crappy things about living in the Wastes seem not so bad. Something I didn't get often enough since I left.

"Sorry, Hancock," I ribbed. "But Jack is way scarier than you. No contest."

The mayor's grin waned, a serious look coming over him. The cheerful atmosphere dissipated and I wondered if it was something I said.

His eyes studied me with an intense stare. Too intense. It made me self-conscious and my skin heated. I needed this conversation over.

"Look, I really am tired," I said, turning my head away. "So, if there was nothing else…"

He shifted his weight, debating for a moment before speaking.

"I, uh," Hancock muttered. "I've been thinking about somethin', lately."

"About what?" I asked when he didn't continue.

"That night, two years ago, when I gutted that raider. I'm thinking it wasn't the best idea, havin' you front and center for that little show."

"What?" I turned back to him, confused. Where was he going with this?

"I'm not saying he didn't deserve it," the ghoul clarified. "But I could've gone about it a different way. And today with Finn…"

He knows, I thought, biting my lip. Hancock took off his hat, rubbing over his scarred head.

"Shit, I'm not good at this kinda thing," he gave an agitated grunt, his hand running down his face. "Look, I get if you're afraid of me—"

What?

My eyes widened as something like horror ran through me. He thought I was afraid of him? Words rang clear in my head, as clear as the day I heard them: "The fear hurts him, Samantha, and he's been hurt enough."

Her voice. My mother's voice.

"I don't blame you, havin' seen my more violent side twice now," the ghoul went on, his eyes on the hat in his hands. "But, sunshine, you gotta know I wouldn't hurt—

"No!" It came out in a shriek, Hancock's gaze jumping to mine. "No! I—you—"

Panic constricted my heart. It was tight, too tight, and my chest heaved, trying to suck down air. Hancock took in my state and cursed.

"Okay, just take it easy—"

"I'm not afraid of you!" The words burst from me, my tone shrill. "Why would you say that? Don't ever say that!"

I started to cough between gasps, making the panic worse, and I covered my mouth with the back of my hand. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't breathe!

He grabbed my shoulders, his hands warm on my skin, and pulled me away from the door. I stumbled as he led me, too busy hyperventilating to notice where. A door opened and closed, then I was bracing on my knees, Hancock's palm rubbing circles on my back.

"Okay, it's okay," he soothed, his voice a quiet rumble. "I didn't mean it like that. Just breathe."

I took in deep breaths, trying to work through the panic attack. The room was dimly lit and had a queen-sized bed to one side, a couch and a couple of armchairs to the other. A wet bar was along one wall next to the door that led to the balcony. We were in Hancock's bedroom.

"Why?" I gasped out. "Why would you…"

I didn't understand. I thought for sure he figured it out, my crush on him, but this… it totally caught me off guard.

"Come on, sunshine," the ghoul groaned. "You gotta give me somethin', here. The way you've been actin', if you're not afraid—"

"I'm not!" I snapped, anger pushing through. Standing straight, I glared at him. How could he think that?

He winced, putting his hands up. "Shit, okay, just—"

"I'm not afraid of you, idiot, I lo—" My whole body locked up, my jaw clamping shut, the words choking off.

Oh, no.

"What?" Hancock mused, his tone bewildered. "You—"

Understanding dawned, washing over his face.

I cringed, wishing to be anywhere but here. I wanted to run, to hide, to crawl into a hole and never come out. Stupid, stupid, stupid! He didn't know. I could've played it off—made something up, anything—but I completely outed myself.

"Well," the ghoul said with a strained chuckle, trying to lighten the mood. "I've been wrong before, but this one takes the cake."

It wasn't funny. Nothing about this was funny.

Hancock sighed. "Listen, Sammy—"

Sammy, not sunshine. I flinched, my heart dropping to my stomach. This was the part where he said he wasn't interested, that he didn't want me. I didn't want to hear it.

I strode to the door, my fingers wrapping around the handle to pull it open. A hand slammed against the old wood, keeping it closed. Hancock leaned close and I froze.

"Gunna walk away a third time?" he asked, his voice dangerously low. I grit my teeth, glaring at the door. Seems like he wasn't giving me a choice.

"Fine," I hissed. "Just say it."

The ghoul sighed again, leaning a shoulder against the door as he crossed his arms. "Look, I know you're gettin' to that age where guys are starting to look like big shiny presents you want to unwrap—"

Blood rushed to my face so quickly a wave of dizziness made me sway. I whipped my head around to scowl at him.

"Hancock!" I wined. This was more than embarrassing; it was torture. He flashed me a cheeky grin before continuing.

"But you're still young, you got plenty of time to find someone you're interested in."

Time.

The blush faded as depression set in and my gaze dropped to the ground. Time was something I was short on. Stage two, Amari had said. There were only four stages, which meant I was already halfway to…

"What if I don't have time?" The words came out in a whisper.

"What?"

I balked, my eyes snapping to his. I didn't mean to say that.

"Uh, you know," I mumbled, my mind racing. "Anything could happen at any time. We could all die tomorrow in a raid or something."

He snorted, "Yeah, sure."

Ugh, this is stupid, I thought, frustrated with myself. I might not be as strong as Fahrenheit or Jack, but I wasn't a coward, dammit. Clenching my hands, I took a steadying breath.

"And I'm not interested in anyone else," I stated.

The mayor regarded me for a moment before his face softened with a somber expression.

"Come on, sunshine, you don't want me," he murmured with a detached tone. "You think you do, but you don't. I'm not—I'm not good for you."

"What are you talking about?" Of course, I wanted him. Why would he say that?

"Look at me," he demanded.

I did, my eyes roving over his face. There were pits and ridges in his skin, the fleshy parts of his nose burned away by radiation, his eyes completely black with no whites visible. Some people called ghouls freaks, zombies, monsters. But he wasn't any of those things, to me. He was just Hancock.

"You really want to wake up to this ugly mug? I wouldn't wish that on anyone I cared for. Especially you."

The rage was hot and instant, burning through my body. He was doing it again. He was putting himself down because of the way he looked, because he was a ghoul.

My face twisted into a snarl and I made to yell at him, but he clamped a hand over my mouth.

"I know, I know, you don't have a problem with ghouls. It's one of my favorite things about you," Hancock rushed out. I pushed his hand away, glowering at him.

"But it's not the same." He leaned closer, his voice a harsh growl. "Living with ghouls is not the same as havin' one in your bed, just trust me on this."

The rage cooled, leaving me confused. I was starting to get a head ache. Too many emotions, too many ups and downs. I didn't get it. Did he think I was going to freak out if I saw him naked, or something?

Living at the slog with everyone so close together had killed any shock factor about a ghoul's appearance. With only one building, eventually you're going to see someone naked. Sometimes, we had to conserve water, so Holly and I would bathe together. Sometimes, I would have nightmares and Deirdre would let me sleep with her in her bed, or I would sneak over to the men's side and hop in Jack's. I was just a child at the time, so it wasn't an issue.

I didn't understand why he thought it was such a big deal. It didn't bother me then, so why would it bother me now?

"Jules didn't seem to mind," I pointed out.

Hancock straightened, floundering for a second.

"That's different," he said, rubbing his neck.

A sudden clarity hit me, causing my heart to beat painfully, like a knife was stabbed through it. He was trying to make it seem like I was just a silly girl who didn't know what I wanted, but that was a lie. I'm not the one who had a problem. It was Hancock. He didn't want me because I wasn't—

The rage came back and I clenched my jaw, eyes clouding with tears. I was done with this conversation.

Hancock's face went slack with surprise, my reaction not one he expected. "Now, wait a minute—"

I jerked the door open hard, making the ghoul stumble out of the way and I stalked into the hall.

"Sunshine, wait—"

He grabbed at my arm and I yanked it away, turning to face him.

"It's fine, Hancock, I get it," I retorted, the anger making my tone sharp. "I'm not a junkie or a ghoul, right?"

The mayor's eyes widened as he stood there, opening his mouth several times before shaking his head.

"That's not what I said," he denied, anxiety tightening his voice.

"It's what you meant," I snapped.

"No," he shook his head again. "No, it's fuckin' not."

I scoffed and turned back around, heading for my room. I heard Hancock curse behind me then I jerked to a stop, my shirt pulling tight. He had the back of my tank-top fisted in his hand.

"Just let me explain—"

I twisted around, smacking his hand. He took the abuse for a couple of seconds, refusing to release me, then started blocking with his other hand. We slapped at each other, me trying to get him to let go of my shirt, him trying to stop me from smacking him. It would have been funny if I wasn't pissed.

"Let go!" I yelled.

The ghoul gave a frustrated grunt. "Would you just—"

"Sam?"

We both stopped and turned to see Jack at the top of the spiral staircase. Hancock's grip loosened and I took the opportunity to wrench myself away, sending him another glare.

Jack looked between us, a frown pinching his face.

"What's going on?" he questioned.

His eyes landed on Hancock with the beginnings of parental anger glinting through. The mayor swallowed, his hands rising in a sign of peace, and took a breath to give some excuse.

"Nothing," I said first, straightening my shirt. It was already bad enough, no need to get Jack involved. "Absolutely nothing."

I walked towards my room unhindered this time. It was done. Hancock rejected me, just like I knew he would. Now I could move on and never think about it again. Right?

My door closed with a slam.

A/N: The scene when the Sole Survivor comes to Goodneighbor for the first time is probably the only scene from the game I will be adding. I wanted Sam to see Nate in town and the original scene just fit.

I'm trying really hard to make Sam act like a person in her situation would, so I hope she's not too annoying. She's a teenager, dealing with the raging hormones and skewed logic a teenager would have, and terrible self-esteem issues based on her misbelief that physical strength is the only thing that truly matters (something she doesn't have). Not to mention the Fallout world is basically a 24-hour warzone (anyone living in that environment would develop some serious issues). AND she has cancer, so that's a lot for anyone to deal with.

It looks like it takes me about two weeks to get a chapter finished, so hopefully I can keep up that pace. Thank you for reading this far!