Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Silvia. Just Silvia, there's no last name. No Vault Dweller sign over her head, no blue spandex. Just a dark haired woman with a pair of the oddest eyes on earth. Big and pale grey, like the start of a storm. Or the end. She's quite, like the start, like the end. She's made a couple close friends but keeps her distance from most. She tries to stay clean, simply because it makes her feel better about herself.. Or maybe just habit, but there's no makeup left to wear and no curlers for her hair, so it's all about keeping the grime off.

Her lips are often chapped and the bruises and cuts of day to day living are visible, though cleaned and dressed when it's needed. She doesn't hide the burn scars on her face and neck. It's not something she's ashamed of. A patch of rough skin stretches back from the right corner of her mouth and stops at her ear then reaches behind her neck and down her spine. On her left temple a distinct square shape looks like it was cut rather than burned. Like most things about Silvia, the reasons are unknown. She simply doesn't have much to say about herself, even one on one, but loves to listen to others.

Here's a few pictures of Silvia's room at the State House. There is a full bathroom just outside the double doors, I forgot to take pics :( Fahrenheit's room is down a floor and Hancock's got a bed in the basement, but the room is trashed. I converted a room into an office for the drifter who lives in it, cause he's now the city accountant. And there are real cots and dividers upstairs for drifters, so they get a little bit of privacy. Of course, drugs and alcohol everywhere, as always. Silvia likes clean things and if she's around she'll clean a lot... which makes people feel bad so they start helping.

Also, This is Floppy Dog. The real version. :) She always puts her paws like that, has to be left over right, she'll switch it back if you change them. She's been with me since the second she was born, as her momma is my daughter's dog.

Silvia's Youtube Playlist

Chapter Text

Never look down the barrel of a gun. Keep your eyes on the shooter.

It’d been a long time since Presten had taught her to fight, to protect herself. Almost a year since the quick, painful, claw-filled battle had assured her that she could hold her own, but kind Preston had gone out of his way to teach her to fire and clean her guns. And she had quite the collection of guns at this point. Unfortunately they were all just out of reach. The silenced .44 she kept beside her bedroll at night was across the room, her rifles leaning on the wall by the now-boarded window.

There was a knife in her sleeping bag, she was sure, but there was no way she’d be able to get to it now. Not with them standing over her, flashing a buzzing bright light into her eyes.

She wasn’t able to see the faces of the two men who had kicked their way into the barred room while she lay sleeping. Alright, she was blitzed out of her gourd and sleeping it off. But she was sober now! The jet had faded a few hours ago, and whatever lingered of the booze was quickly leaving her system with every thump of her heart. Sober enough now to realize she was a world class idiot.

Silvia squinted in the light, her nose wrinkling and lips twisting into a little snarl.. she couldn’t even see the gun, let alone the man holding it. Was it a man? Did it matter? Shit.. it mattered. One hand raised to shield her eyes and it was quickly kicked away by a heavy boot. “Fuck.. Fine! I’m not moving!” She growled out in a cracked voice. No response. She could hear a of heavy footsteps move then the clip of her ammo bag and the rattling of shells. Still, the light filled her vision.

“Is that all you want? Look, I got two guns by the window, and there’s a bag of food over there. Good stuff. Some Jet, some Psycho, maybe some vodka left…” She trailed off..

The man holding the flashlight turned ever so slightly; “Find me the Psycho, Berk, I’m ready to-” It was all the time she needed. Silvia moved, quickly and quietly, striking from below.

The flashlight fell, it’s owner dropped to his knees with a knife handle sticking out under his chin. Silvia stood, her grey eyes hidden in her mess of dull black hair. Without hesitation she yanked the blade free, the body fell flat. In the flickering light of a broken bulb she lunged at the second man, blade flashing wildly.

There was no sound, he wasn’t ready.

She mumbled in a slightly shaky voice, straddling a fresh corpse with a knife in it’s eye. “Didn’t know I was gonna have visitors, ya shoulda called.. why don’t people just call first anymore? Heh… Haah…” she stood, yanking the blade free and wiping it on the dead man’s shirt.

“Fuck…….”

“….. Fuck!”

She hadn’t been ready either. She’d let her guard down, let the ball drop, let the shit hit the fan. (In the back of her mind, she wondered if anyone even used those lines anymore.) And it had been pure luck that she survived this time. Now was the worst time to start rethinking your choices, but there she was, a breeze sweeping through the open door, her in her panties and nothing else, holding a bloody knife, thinking about bad choices and bad puns. Maybe it was time to go back to Sanctuary, maybe she should have let Dogmeat come with her this time.. maybe she should come up with a better name than Dogmeat… Maybe.. Maybe she really was just fine on her own. That last thought made a small smile touch her chapped lips.

Silvia grabbed her open ammo bag and stepped over the bodies, not bothering to look at them.. whoever they were, they’d played the game and lost.. and after a year in the Commonwealth, it was getting to be easy to see people die. Especially when they deserved it.

A box of Mentats was retrieved from one pocket and she stopped, only for a second or two, to look at all the useless bullets, before she closed the bag up tight, the harsh light and buzz of it’s bulb still filling the little room. She’d have to move now, and in the middle of the night. She popped the mentat into her mouth then dropped the box on the bedroll. Time to find her clothes. Time to get moving.

Chapter Text

Early on, when Silvia was still learning to shoot a gun, when the Commonwealth was still full of surprises to when she was staying in Sanctuary with Preston and his little crew, life was simpler. Her old life, the one before the war.. it was gone, but this.. this sweet memory of picking tatos and arguing with Marcy about the right way to cook them.. it was something she would look back to with fondness in the years ahead, even if she didn’t know it yet. Silvia was almost content. The relative safety, the company of normal people (for the most part) and the day to day job of survival.

Her mind was a storm of worries and uncertainties at the time. It would be years before she realized the bliss she lived in.

While Sanctuary was nice, and it felt good to be.. normal.. she still had this need inside her to look for her son. Not that she thought she'd ever find him at that point, but she wanted to try. And she needed to get away from Sanctuary. It held too many very old memories. Some nice new ones.. but nothing that could repair what the bombs had twisted.

Preston had been kind to her. He saw her as weak, however, and tried to convenience her to stay in Sanctuary. She didn't tell him anything about the vault, the body of her husband still inside. She didn't tell him about the house Mama Murphy was living in She didn't even tell him why she wanted to go.. she didn't tell him about Shaun. No.. It'd be a while before he learned any of it. So she left as she'd been found, just a wanderer. Just another face with a name that they might forget some day soon. Alone. Dogmeat was a good dog, but she didn't want the company. She didn't want to start talking to herself, and he'd be a good excuse. More than anything, she didn't want to get the dog killed. So alone was fine. She preferred it that way, no one else to take care of. Not til that someone mattered, not til that someone was Shaun. And if she never found him.. well alone would be fine.

Silvia left some gear at the Starlight Drive-In movie theater and set a couple of traps around the top floors. She left a few pictures, a few books, and the charred remnants of her vault suit; It was split down the middle of the back where the wires once ran, most of the neck had burned and there was dried blood on the wrists of the sleeves. All the hell she went through in those first months were etched into that garment. She didn't have to unfold it, she knew what it looked like.. she hated the thing.

With a rifle over her shoulder and a few pouches full of bullets on her belt, she started her march just after sunset.

Her search for Detective Valentine had come up with more problems she needed to solve. And the trip to Diamond City had taken more out of her then she expected it would. Three days of almost crawling past gunfire and wild animals. Massachusetts had never been this wild in her day. even the occasional bear sightings at the local campgrounds never really scared her. But this.. the bugs.. the freaking bugs. Mosquitoes were never meant to be that large! And there was no way she was getting the smell of maggot slime off of her clothing. That putrid rotten-tato-and-baby-vomit smell lingered.

The road back home was looking to be just as bad.

Detective Valentine’s assistant wasn’t much help. All she could really say was Nick had been kidnapped.. and all Silvia could think was this was the wrong detective to find her son if he couldn’t keep himself off the missing person’s list. The woman was desperate to get her boss back, and Silvia felt bad for her.. but there was nothing she could do. And after asking around and even trying to bribe someone for help, no one was willing to lift a finger to find her missing baby.

Silvia was feeling beaten up when she dropped into a seat at the noodle shop. The robot server said something odd. She had no idea what to say back. “Just.. nevermind.” She stood and turned, grabbing her dusty old bag and pulling it from her side. A little jingle and her hand came out with a cola bottle.

“Nuka-cooola…” the weak voice came from her right, some old bearded beggar leaning on the side of one of the merchant stalls. “Need.. Nuka-cola.. Please” his spindly fingers reached out for the bottle.

With a little sigh and a strained smile she took the few steps over to the man and handed him the bottle. He gripped it in both hands, a great big grin, several teeth absent, greeted her. “Ah! thank you!”

Silvia nodded and turned, ready to just leave Diamond City; there was nothing here, just a messy reminder of an old life.

“Wait! Wait!” The old man rushed up behind her, surprisingly spry for the way he looked. He held out his hand, the bottle cap from the cola in it. Well that was… Oh right, money. The beggar was giving her money? She laughed and shook her head.

“You keep it.” She pushed his hand away some. “This place is rough.. I’m sure you need it. I’m leaving town and caps don’t spend like bullets.”

“Really? Where ya goin’?” He was stuffing the cap in his pocket, the biggest grin on his worn face. “Oh hey, I’m Sheffield! Thanks again for the kindness, friend.”

Silvia was smiling back at the man, happy to come across one friendly person in this heartless shantytown. “It’s nice to meet you Sheffield.. I’m Silvia.” She shook the man’s hand, and he looked surprised. Seemed he didn’t meet many friendly people either, but he was over-doing it a bit. “I’m staying at.. on.. A farm.. well kind of. We’re still working on it. Always something needs fixed. But it’s nice… Hey.. Sheffield, you want to get out of this dump?”

He looked at her, the smile starting to fade. “Hey I..”

“No no I mean do you want to come work for me? We... ah... we could use an extra pair of hands. It’d be hard work.. but it’s honest, and you’d get food and payment. and-”

“Hold up hold on you got yourself a deal!” He was still shaking her hand at this point, his other hand clasped over the first. “I can work, I can shoot a gun, too! Whatever you need, Miss Silvia!”

She just laughed. “I need you to get whatever you have together, I want to be out of here in the next couple of hours.”

“Well this is.. it.” He held his hands wide, his ragged clothes barely held together, a few caps in one pocket, making it sag.. and really, he had nothing else.

“Hmm..”

An hour later Sheffield was wearing boots with no holes in the bottom, a pair of canvas pants and a sweatshirt. He had a belt and a gun strap across his shoulder, and he himself had picked out a light grey knit hat.. saying something silly about how it matched his new boss’s eyes. It didn’t, but she laughed anyway.

She’d sat and cleaned a gun they’d found in one of the shops while he got his hair cut. His hair was about an inch long now. He kept the beard, but it was clean and neatly trimmed, and the old man could have passed for a college professor in her time. Well almost. He was grinning like an idiot with an ice cream cone when he stood from the chair, his cap clinched in his hand. Silently he awaited her approval, and she could tell.

“Do you like it Sheffield?”

His eye lit up and he nodded, then pulled the cap down over his short hair. “Feels good to have th'whiskers out o’ my nose. I… Thank you, Miss Silvia.. yer puttin’ a lot of faith in me. I hope I can live up to what yer expecting’ of me.” He grabbed at his hat nervously, messing up his short thin hair.

“Well I hope you can too Sheffield. Might mean you gotta lay off the Nuka Cola though.. And maybe you shouldn’t drink that moonshine you nabbed from the Fallon lady’s purse?” She looked up at him from her seat on the bench, gun in parts on a cloth on her lap. Her smile was small and sweet and it made the color drain from Sheffield’s face. Silvia went back to cleaning the gun. “I’ll be done with this in half an hour.. be ready to go?”

“Uh.. Yeah! Sure will be.” His voice was a little uneasy, and she knew there was a chance he wouldn’t return when he walked away from the bench. She was done with the gun moments later, loaded it and set the safety, then separated her ammo supply down the middle. The next twenty minutes were spent waiting for Sheffield to make up his mind.

He didn’t disappoint her, and came back with both hands in his pockets, but a calm look on his face. Silvia grabbed up her backpack, clicked the flap closed, and stuffed her bundle of tools and cloth into a pocket. Backpack secure on her back she met Sheffield in the street.

“All set?” She held out both hands, the freshly cleaned .44 in one, a box full of bullets in the other.

He hesitated, his eyes studied hers. He was a smart guy.. he had to be to get by this long in this shithole town.. and this lady saw that. This lady saw right through him.

He was sure that she wasn’t surprised when he grabbed the gun and holstered it, then stuffed the bullets into a pouch on his belt.

“let’s get you home then, huh?” He broke into another genuine smile and waved his hand wide, ushering her to the front gates of Diamond City.

—————–

The first night he took early watch. Hell he volunteered for it.

She didn’t sleep at all that night. For the first four hours she laid listening with her eyes closed, shifting from time to time, hoping that he assumed she was sleeping. She heard nothing. She heard the click of his gun a few times, he left the tent to relieve himself once, and then woke her up when it was her turn with a gentle shake of her shoulder.

Sheffield was asleep as soon as his head hit the ground. All the walking and sitting guard must have been more work than he was used to. Or maybe he just figured there was no reason not to trust her. Either way, at least he was trying. Silvia waited quietly til morning, listening to wild things move outside the tent.. and Sheffield’s bear-like snoring.

——————

The second night started much the same except she slept this time, and quite well.. til close to her shift, when she heard something just outside the tent huffing and puffing. Gun already in her hand she rolled off her sleeping bag, found no Sheffield sitting watch and pushed her way slowly from the tent.

The old man was kneeling down, arm braced against a tree, and it sounded like he was hyperventilating. She did a quick sweep of the clearing around them as she moved closer, gun drawn and cocked. “Sheffield? You alright buddy?”

He was having some kind of panic attack, and she wasn’t sure how to handle it.. A hand rested on his back, eyes still scanning their surroundings. “Sheff? Need you to come back to me man.. what happened?”

He wiped his face with the old sweatshirt and searched the ground for his gun. “Yeah.. Yeah. I’m good. Need some sleep. I’m good!”

Silvia watched as Sheffield stood and rushed back into the tent, and she was glad, they didn’t need to be outside in the dark. Once she was in she closed up the tent and turned to find him planted on a bed roll, staring at his hands. He might have been crying before, but she couldn’t tell now, he just looked.. tired.

“So you alright now?” She dropped to the ground and crossed her legs, gun in her lap.

He nodded.

“That happen a lot?”

He nodded again.

“Why?”

“I got a thing for the drink” Shame oozed from his voice.

“And.. you ain’t had none in a few days, huh?”

He nodded again.

“But.. you’re really trying this time, huh?” she asked, maybe a touch of sarcasm sneaking in.

His eyes widened and she looked at him.. and regretted the sarcasm.

“You really are trying huh? Sheffield… Good.” Her voice was firm. “Good. I don’t need a junky taking up space, I need an upstanding fellow who wants a better life. And we passed two bears and a pack of mutant rats on the way out here and you’re still kicking. I can see you are really trying.”

His wide eyes glistened. He quickly wiped his face with his sleeve and sniffled up whatever doubt was left. “Right.. Right! I’m not gonna let ya down.. it’s just.. It’s not easy, but I’m really trying.”

“It’s not easy.” She nodded. “And it’s not gonna be easy for a long time. You can handle a gun… but you ready for that kinda fight?”

“I… Yeah. I am.” The answer was simple, and his smile was calmer.. a little sad, but calm. She returned the smile.

“You get some sleep, Sheff.” She picked up her gun again and scooted around so she could keep an eye out the tent. Sheffield laid down and rolled over and, after about an hour of dead quiet, he fell asleep.

They’d be in Sanctuary by noon the next day. Marcy was going to give her an earful about bringing strangers into the neighborhood. Preston would be glad to have another person to clean out buildings and sort supplies. Maybe they’d be able to expand the farm.

She still didn't plan on staying. Give Sheff his chance, sure, but then she planned to turn right around and find that detective. Maybe he couldn't help her, but he needed help himself, and Silvia was feeling pretty damned bulletproof lately.

The rest of the night went smoothly. Silvia woke Sheffield with the sunrise and the two were fed, packed and traveling within an hour. It was only a couple of hours til Sanctuary, and Sheffield seemed more energetic, almost youthful the closer they got. When he saw the giant red rocket ship above the gas station he danced, his boots tapping on the cracked street, humming a song she didn’t know.

This was going to be one of those good memories she would look back on someday.. but this time she recognized it for what it was, and appreciated it then and there.. making one old man happy, helping someone.. making life better.. She knew she wanted to do those things. It would take a lot of work before she was able to do those things. It’s not easy.. But I’m really trying..

Chapter Text

The first time he saw her hadn’t been important enough to remember. Scavers traveled to and from Goodneighbor all the time. This one just happened to be a target for one of the dumbest scalpers in town. When this woman scavenger walked through the gates, a gas mask covering most of her face, bits of armor strapped here and there on top of jeans and plaid, and a bag of scavenged goods in her arm, said scalper wasted no time in taking his cut. The scav wasn’t intimidated, she might have kicked him in the balls right then and there if Hancock hadn’t been so close by and in need of a distraction. The ghoul pushed off the wall of the grand State House that sat center of Goodneighbor. He dusted off his thick red overcoat, gave the scavver a wink, and within a few short words he had stabbed Finn the hustler n the stomach repeatedly, leaving his body dead in the street.

And that was that. Mayor Hancock tipped his hat and walked away. He might of said something, but she wasn't sure. Silvia was left standing with a dead body at her feet and a dozen eyes staring at her. She scowled at the back of the ghoul’s red coat. He didn’t see it of course.. in fact he’d already forgotten about her, and was looking for something else to do inside the statehouse.

Weeks later when he saw her again, he was reminded of that incident. She had come in, as she probably had many times before, and headed for K.L.O.E.’s shop. He’d been standing by a window in the State House, watching the gears of his little town turn below him. He caught a glimpse of her passing on her way to the shop before she vanished behind the store wall.

Moments ticked by as he watched others move past the shop.. then a crash, a spray of glass and a body comes flying out the doorway of the weapon’s shop. Hancock was grinning, it was always fun when someone decided to steal from the bot. He was surprised, though. What had the girl stolen? So down the spiral stairs he strolled, making for the front gate area.

The body he found sprawled and bleeding wasn’t the lady scavver he’d expected; it was a younger fellow, barely a scruff of hair on his chin, a dingy old baseball cap pulled over messy blond hair.

The scav was standing in the door of KL.O.E.’s shop, her bag was spilled all over the ground, glass shards scattered around her boots. She had the gas mask off and her hair was free of the knit cap she wore; Black strands fell around her face and spilled over her shoulders, framing narrowed eyes and a sneer on her chapped pink lips.

When she saw Hancock round the corner her eyes grew wide.. then narrowed again. Her anger was refocused and she stomped from the shop, standing defiantly in front of him; between Hancock and the kid. She grabbed all of the Mayor's attention, her grey eyes still narrowed. She’d balled up her fists. How cute. “Look, he just knocked over my bag… an’ I got a temper.”

Was she.. protecting the young man? from him? Hancock stuffed his hands into his pants pockets, tilted his head to look past the woman and smiled to the young lad. Lady’s got some balls. But shit instincts.

“Just an accident.. I see. So no harm done?” He stole another glance to the scavver girl, just for the chance to see her anger. She was watching him closely with those soft grey eyes. They kept his attention for a maybe a second too long and she quickly looked away. Heh.

The kid was frantically trying to stand, his face bloodied and a gash across his right cheek.. what had she done to him? “Yeah.. I’m sorry lady! I.. I…” He scrambled back to the mess of broken bottles and metal scrap littering the ground and tried to stuff it back into the burlap sack.

Silvia looked from the kid to Hancock.. and back to the kid. He wasn’t scared of her bashing him in the face with her gun or body throwing him out the door.. he was worried about what the ghoul would do to him if he knew about the attempted pocket picking.

Silvia’s pale grey eyes landed on the ghoul, his face shadowed from the streetlight by a silly three-pointed hat, something she’d seen at the museum near home.. back.. the thought just made her angry, and she turned away from Hancock to help the boy pick up the mess rather than direct that anger at him.

Hancock watched them for a moment then turned and walked away. Same girl.. the one with the alien eyes… she was attractive.. but annoying. Ungrateful. He was pretty sure he’d introduced himself. Maybe she’d forgotten who he was. Maybe he’d have to get her nice and drunk and remind her later. He smirked, lighting a joint as he rounded a corner, the thought of getting drunk overtaking all other ideas for the time.

He saw her again later that evening, leaving the Third Rail with a runt gun-slinger in a funny hat.

————-

A few weeks passed and the odd scavvy was less than jet vapor in the Mayor’s mind. He was content with the blonde that sat on his lap, playing with his coat buttons while he puffed at an old cigar. The post-nuclear equivalent of a groupie, the young blond was just looking for some jet and a warm bed.. and she’d hit so low she was willing to leach them off a filthy ghoul. Who was he to argue? She had lost her shirt somewhere and her bra was in her lap. He was just fine with her unbuttoning his shirt too.

It didn’t happen. His visitor, the Silver Shroud, killed his chances with or Donna.. or Demona.. Diana? Whatever ’D-Fuckin-Na’ her name was, she scampered out of the room like a kicked cat.

Hancock was put in quite a foul mood. Spread out on the couch with his arms draped across the back and the top few buttons of his shirt open. He might appear relaxed, but he was seething. The smoke drifted from his lips and what was left of his nose as he looked at the stranger in his parlor.

A shadowy crime fighter stood in the doorway. The light of the stairwell outlined the heavy coat and downturned hat of the Silver Shroud’s figure. Hancock had been wanting to have this conversation for a few days, make sure the great Silver Shroud really was on the up and up. The last thing the Mayor needed was a rogue element on the streets doing some nerdy ghoul shut-in’s dirty work. The Silver Shroud stepped closer and Hancock stood from the couch. He caught a glimpse of her wide alien eyes under the brim of her hat. ’Well I’ll be damned..’

Silvia pulled her hat further over her face with a black gloved hand, shifting in the dusty old overcoat. It made her shoulders itch.

“Guess what someone tells me?” He puts his cigar down on the edge of the table beside him. Hancock re-buttons his worn out ruffled shirt and adjusts his red overcoat with scarred hands. “Some costumed freak is operating in Goodneighbor. And the kicker is it ain’t me.” He places his hands behind his back, eyeing the dark figure standing boldly in his doorway. “How should I feel about this?”

She’d been practicing the voice, and impressed herself with her acting skills. Not over the top.. and not too flat.“This neighborhood is ill! I have the cure!” Silvia Shroud’s voice rumbled.

She was wrong about her acting skills. She sounded like an old woman with a 3 pack a day habit. The Mayor was grinning .

“Ha hah! You’re priceless, like the Silver Shroud himself walked outta a comic book into my den. Just Priceless!” The ghoul was laughing. Another small voice grunted out a laugh and a quick peek sideways informed Silvia Shroud there was someone else in the room.. with a gun. Fahrenheit was watching the exchange.. looked like she got a kick out of it.

Hancock took a step closer, bringing Silvia back to the moment. She could see her warped silhouette in his bottomless black eyes.. it was unnerving to say the least. Sil stood her ground.

“You’ve been busy scaring people,” He stood a meter from her, eye to eye, his hands still clasped behind his back. “Bashing in a few faces… I respect that. So Far.” He looked the Shroud over and tilted his head. “ But I gotta ask, one freak to another.. why the get up?”

Her large eyes widened under the black hat and she started to stutter out a word. She cleared her voice and spoke again, quickly. “M-many have sought to… pierce the Shroud! … to no avail!” Still sounded like a jet addict in a respirator.

“You just don’t stop” He laughed. His head shaking “Stay you, pal.” he turned around and went back to his couch, sinking into it. This is where the business started. Hancock was intrigued that a scavver girl was going after his trash, but she either had to be removed.. or be ready for a real fight. Sink or swim time, girly.

So he told her about Smiling Kate and Northy and their boss, Sinjin. About their plan to remove the Silver Shroud from Goodneighbor. They probably had a hole dug already. He gave her all the information he had and explained that these people were hurting his city.. so getting rid of them would be doing him a favor too. The mighty Shroud didn’t seem impressed.

“Just keep piling those body bags up until you find the location of the big guy himself.”

Silvia stared at the Mayor, deciding what to do. These people needed to be taken out, but she wasn’t doing it for this dick. A moment of glaring at Hancock’s shoes.. then she agreed. Or, rather, the Silver Shroud agreed.

“Don’t get killed.” He said flatly, the smile falling from his scarred face, “It’d be a shame if he ended you.” He looked up at her, his head tilted. He could see those great big grey eyes under her hat. He seemed concerned.. and it was confusing. How honest can a politician be? He was just using her to get rid of -

“An’ Goodneighbor’d rest a whole lot easier without him in the picture.”

Yep, there it was.

Silvia nodded and turned, heading out of the old State House. She was glad to be away from the man, he made her nervous. She couldn’t read him at all. Well.. for a moment she thought she saw something… perhaps he did give a crap about his little town. It didn’t matter, she was going to deal with this raider boss and make sure Kent slept a little easier at night. And if it benefited Mayor Hancock.. well lucky bastard got a freebie. Til it was his turn, at least. Kent seemed to think Hancock was a pretty good guy.. so why did the mayor make the back of her neck tingle like someone had a laser site on her?

——————–

The info had helped, she took out Smiley and Northy easily enough. But in the end Sinjin the Raider Boss and All Around Bad Guy nabbed Kent from his room at the Memory Den. Silvia, still in her Shroud Costume, went rushing in alone to deal with Sinjin and save the ghoul who started her acting career. And she did just that. Brought Kent the Ghoul back to Goodneighbor with just a few bruises and a wounded pride. Brought Sinjin’s gun back, too.. but Hancock didn’t need to know that.

Hancock was impressed. He bellowed out a little speech to his people, praised the hero of Goodneighbor, the Silver Shroud. Of course he offered her some 'refreshments', which she declined. She just wanted to be done with this. More people were entering the room and the noise level grew. She slipped out the double doors while Hancock was laughing with the blond from earlier that week.

Silvia stood in the open foyer of the spiral staircase and took a few breaths. She needed to leave the Silver Shroud at home next time she went out. The coat was heavy and far too warm, and the hat wasn’t her size. She had to stuff all her hair into it to keep it tilted forward on her head. She suspected a lot of the bobby pins had fallen out or slipped during the long fighting of the last day and night. And there were a mess of new holes in the overcoat. Kenny would be pissed. More than that, she didn't think she could keep up the character anymore. It seemed that dealing with people was stressful these days.. and it seemed like the Shroud was going to be that kind of stressful.

It was a crap costume. But at least it would hold back the rain she now saw falling in the streets outside, backlit in red by the hotel sign. Silvia stood by the window for a moment, watching the rain fall from the dark sky into the light of Goodneighbor. It wasn’t beautiful.. but it wasn’t really ugly right now, the red glow and smoke reflected in the soaking streets below. The reflection of the buildings warped around raindrops and the great rings of stomping boots as Goodneighbor carried on with life.

Silvia’s thoughts were in the water, in the pleasant reflection she managed to find in this mess of a town. She didn’t hear Hancock step into the foyer. The ghoul waved a hand to the guards surrounding the stairs and sent them into the room, sure they’d have a dip into his supply. The doors were gently closed behind them. Stealthy as a tomcat, Hancock slid up beside the Silver Shroud, looking down out the window, just as she had been.

She’d caught his reflection when he started to move close. Her body stiffened and her hand reached for the gun hidden in the folds of her coat. He might look harmless at times.. but she’d seen first hand that he was far from that.

“You did a good thing ya know.” He held out a hand with a red and black wooden jewelry box laying across it. It didn’t look new.. but the inlaid wood was in tact, and there was a fresh polish on the treasure. She looked at it and smiled. The gun was slid back into her pocket and her small glove-covered hands curls around the box.. it was heavier than it should have been.

She carefully opened the box to find the reflection of her ragged hat and loose hair, her tired face and the wrinkles that had forced at the corners of her eyes over the last year. Her eyes traveled down from the mirror and found the box was full of caps. Maybe enough to get her that place in Diamond City if she ever wanted it. A laugh rose from her throat and she looked at him, one of her black brows raised. “You used me to clean up your turf war and this is all the thanks I get?” She said lightheartedly. She closed the box gently and ran her gloved fingers easily across the lacquered surface.

“I know, right? Costume Crusading is a really shitty gig.” He spread his hands a little, indicating his own costume: his faded red coat and tri-tipped hat, his ruffled white shirt under a blue vest. Well, a beige shirt.

Didn’t look half bad in the getup, if she was honest. Her large grey eyes lifted briefly to his face, resting on his wholly blackened orbs. The depths of hell must lay in his eyes.. and that spark that shone from them was the fire at Hell’s center. As she lost herself in his gaze she almost thanked the radiation for giving him those eye. She could feel her cheeks light up.

He wasn’t a good man.. she knew that, she’d heard the stories, she’d seen the bodies the guards carried from the State House. But as he stood there, letting her take a good look at his damaged face and bottomless eyes, he seemed like a man nonetheless. No corny smile, no smoke to protect him.

It lasted only seconds. He looked away from her first, turning to gaze out the window at the rain. Silvia dropped her gaze, feeling far too close to the ghoul all of the sudden.

the silence stretched on til at last she gathered the nerve to speak again. “Why do you do it?” She asked him this time.

He was smiling. the puddles filling his streets made the whole town brighter, and from the State House he could watch the people.. his people.. live safely. "Someone’s gotta take care of people who can’t do it themselves.” He nodded his chin to the window. “Someone’s gotta be on their side, be ready to fight for them when the bad guys are too strong.” He paused to think, “I… I’m a monster.” He sighed out the words, like he’d been keeping that secret for a long time. “I know I’m a fuckin’ monster. But all that means is I’m strong enough to fight the other monsters. That’s why you do it.. right? To fight the monsters.” He rest his gaze upon her downturned face once more, hidden by the brim of the Silver Shroud’s hat.

She whispered.. “I’m… Yeah.. I’m trying to fight the monsters, too.” She raised her head and gave him a hopeful smile.

He could see those grey eyes again, large and pale and full of hope. Where did she find something to hope for, he wondered. His gnarled hand raised to her face impulsively and knocked the hat back off her head so he could study her closer. Black hair came tumbling down around her face, around her big beautiful eyes. They could be an addiction if he stared for too long. Her lips were red and broken, she must spend a lot of time out in the waste. Her straight nose and curved brows.. the point of her chin.. he took the sight of her in, his dark eyes hard to follow as they traced her features. The Mayor was gentle, his warm, rough fingertips brushed back her hair and touched her ear, his palm pressing into her cheek. Her face grew warm under his touch, color spreading across her cheeks. That feeling came over her again. It was like the fight or flight rush that came before every battle. Or something close. A rush of cold rose through her spine and made her gasp. When her lips parted for that little intake of air he leaned in and caught her mouth up in his. He moved easily, pressed her body into the wall beside the window. His strong fingers slid back through her silky black hair and pawed at the back of her neck, lighting up nerve endings all over the scarred flesh that ran down her spine

Fight won for a second and she grabbed his red frock with both hands by the collar. Caps scattered across the floor when her treasure box hit the carpet. Her body pushed against his, ready to send him into the stairwell… But his body pressed back so comfortably into hers. And his lips.. the soft, sweet kiss hadn’t intruded at all , he brushed her lips with his, the texture tickled her mouth. He smelled like cigars and whisky and old leather and… something else, maybe after-shave. She realized he was warm… so warm and alive. Her large grey eyes had started to fall closed when his kiss ended and she was left breathless and dizzy.

Her blurred sight found his shame filled eyes still upon her face. He was disappointed by his attempt to seduce her. Not because it had failed, however. No, because he’d tried. He flashed her a sly smile, masking his little bout of self-loathing. “Figured I’d steal a souvenir. Before the Silver Shroud disappears back into the shadows.” He whispered near her mouth.

He was turning to walk away before she could say or do much of anything. Her fingers slipped from his collar. He strolled back into the room of drug addicts and gun-men, leaving the double doors open in invitation.

Silvia Shroud stared after him in disbelief. Was he playing with her? Using her again? Did he really think she’d just tag along behind him like a lost puppy?

Silvia grabbed her hat off the floor, stuffed it onto her head over her loose hair and rushed out of the State House, embarrassed and angry and ready to leave the nasty little town as soon as she was packed.

The little black box and it’s caps were left scattered across the foyer, forgotten in her anger.

——————–

Two weeks later there’d been reports of an explosion in the north, far up the coast. A week after that three obvious synths wandered into Goodneighbor, decked up in fancy white jumpers with numbers and letters on their sleeves. They drew a lot of attention from the riff raff that wandered in and out of Goodneighbor. Hancock made a big show of kicking them out of the city, his bullets missing the fleeing synthetics by inches.. it was believable. Meanwhile Fahrenheit had snuck them all back in through a tunnel system near by. She set them up in a little pad below Goodneighbor while Hancock got a hold of the railroad. He was busy that week, smuggling synths too and from the Memory Den and dealing with a lot of people he didn’t know or trust. When it came to the Railroad, he was as un-involved as he could be. They gave him a few caps and he stayed out of the way. He never had any intentions of pulling active duty in the Railroad.

Now that he was in though, he liked the operation. Spur of the moment and power packed. Plus he got a code name.

So now, with his help, two synths were sent out of the Commonwealth and on to better lives. The last one didn’t want his memory wiped, and there had been a call to a heavy hitter to get him further south to stay with someone he trusted. Seemed this last guy had been the one to break him and his synthetic friends out of a satellite Institute lab off the coast. He was ready to give all the information he had about the other lab set up closer to Boston as soon as the heavy came in.

And this is where we find Hancock, standing outside in a rad storm a block from Goodneighbor, his weapon drawn as he squats in a disabled personal fallout pod. The heavy hitter wasn’t quiet; power armor whistled and squeaked and a can was crushed under a mighty metal foot. There was a heavy WOOSH of air every few seconds. Hancock was glad for the storm. There was no hiding this thing as long as a body was in it. He watched the soup-pot helmet scan the area, then a great big geared hand lit a white flair and tossed it on the ground. The armored heavy pivoted around looking for his contact, his weapon drawn and ready, held to a round armored shoulder.

Hancock stood and stepped from the pod, pulling his hat down over his eyes to block the drizzle of radioactive rain. He waved a hand to the armor suit, staying in the shadows of the building behind him. That large metal foot stomped down on the flair as it clanked its way to the fallout pod.

Hancock looked up at the armored faceplate and tilted his head. “What kind of a name is Black Bear?”

“You’re Rooster?” A muffled, chambered voice resounded through the ventilation plates. Did the heavy sound.. surprised?

No matter. Hancock started walking, the heavy not far behind him. There was a little alley behind the building they stood against with a water drainage system exposed about 20 feet in. The ground was open, someone had slid a cargo freight door down at an angle. Emergency stairs hung disconnected from the building, dangling dangerously over the hole, making the opening difficult to access.

“Sorry, brother, you’re gonna have to leave that armor up here somewhere. No way you’ll fit in some of those tunnels.” The ghoul looked back and shrugged. He’d dug a cigarette out of some pocket and lit it at some point. How had he managed that with the rad storm blowing? Silvia grunted and went to look for a place to stash the armor.

Hancock, his gun still drawn, watched the ruins that 'Black Bear" had rumbled off into. The human sized figure that returned had an arm up to protect against the radioactive wind. As soon as the heavy was close enough, Hancock started climbing down into the tunnel system that winded throughout Boston. Silvia was right behind him, booted feet picking out his path down and to the side.

She reached tunnel floor a moment after Hancock and started dusting herself off, stopping to check a fresh hole in the bottom of her pants leg. A couple of cuss words drew Hancock’s attention away from doing basically the same.

He looked at her for a long moment. She had dust in her black hair from the climb down, making it grey and dull, but those eyes were big and a little wet and beautiful. His hands stayed on his chest mid pat as he stood there, smiling like an idiot. She hurriedly shook her hair out before wrapping it up to stuff inside a knit cap.

He finally stopped watching her and pulled off his hat to knock it against his boot, ridding it of grit from the climb down “Baby Bear, huh?” He gave her a sideways grin.

Silvia’s hand’s stopped stuffing bangs into her hat and she turned her head to look at him flatly. “It’s Black Bear.” She glared at him.. and he just laughed.

“Alright ok.. haha… Black Bear. That’s like a Yao Goi or something right? Yeah, I get that.” He couldn’t stop the little snickers.

“Better than Rooster. couldn’t think of anything but your cock, huh?” She might have sounded too bitter.

He laughed again “I’ll take any woman who will have me.. long as I’m not paying caps for it.” he had turned and started walking down one of the unmarked tunnels they stood between. “A ghoul’s gotta have standards.”

She followed close behind, gun drawn and eyes scanning the area. Her voice was quieter than his. “So where’s your package?”

“Hell, if you really wanted to know why didn’t you ask sooner?” He looked over his shoulder at the now blushing Railroad Heavy(slash)Vigilante Crime Fighter

“Hancock….” She bit out the word.

“The package is in the tunnels ahead. And it’s John…” She couldn’t help but laugh. “Hey, honest truth. My given name” The ghoul threw up a hand as he looked back.. then used it to hold the wall as he ducked under a fallen pipe. “Never did get your name, though.. well other than Baby B-”

“Black Bear”

He laughed. “Black Bear. And the Silver Shroud.”

“Silvia” She replied, ducking under the same pipe, her hand on the same wall.

“Silvia.. pretty name. Nice to meet you at last.”

She couldn’t help but smile. “You too”

His steps were easy to follow and soon enough they reached an intersection with a wall blown out of the brick tunnels. beyond the wall was a barricade and the glow of white light. Hancock led her past the barricades and two armed and armored guards.

“Hey I recognize this place” She said softly, glancing around the large well stocked room.

“You should, it’s where you killed Bobbie No-nose.” He lead her up the stairs to a catwalk.

“Oh… you knew that was me?”

“No, but I do now.” A key was pulled out of his coat pocket and stuffed into the lock in a door at one end of the catwalk. Inside was what used to be an office. Maps of railroad cars and lists of call numbers papered the walls and there was a switchboard neatly set up in one corner. There was a mattress and some books on the floor and a lamp shone down over an open book on a nearby desk. A middle aged man in an old tee shirt with a faded jean jacket over it sat reading one of the books.. The Scarlet Letter.

Hancock had to call the synth’s name to pull him away from reading. “Hey, B9?” He snapped his fingers and the synth lifted his head from the book. There was a spot of dirt on his forehead, and some stubble on his chin.. but he looked clean and healthy otherwise. “You’re gettin’ out of here, brother. Pack your things.” Hancock smacked his hand against the door frame and the synth jumped, startled by the sound. Hancock looked annoyed.

Silvia stepped forward, keeping eyes on the startled synth. “Alright, Rooster.. He’s my charge now.. give us a minute? We’ll be out of your hair in no time.”

Hancock’s gruff voice grunted out a neutral sound and he walked away, patting down his red coat for another cigarette.

Fifteen minutes later Silvia came out of the room and closed the door. She walked out across the catwalk once more and snapped John’s third cigarette from his fingers. A deep drawl.. and she coughed a little, like she’d not felt that sting in a while. After a second she leaned forward on the railing of the catwalk and closed her eyes, cigarette between her lips again.

“Quicky?”

“What?!?” She stood again and glared at Hancock.

His hands went up protectively. “Whow! just joking, sunshine. What the hell happened?”

“He wants a memory wipe.” She looked at the cigarette burning in her fingers.. then took another drag. “He’s on the fence.. Damned idiot.” She took one last pull and passed it back to the mayor, the stale tobacco more than she could handle.

“So let the guy have a memory wipe.” He took one last puff and tossed the spent filter over the rail.

“And take away whatever makes him him? Whatever drove him to break his buddies out of the Institute? He’s asking that to be removed, like it never happened. All the good memories of those two guys who he risked his life to free, the humans who helped them and.. and…” She was angry. She stood before him on the catwalk, her hands waving excitedly with her words, her large eyes intense. “He wants to get rid of all the stuff that makes us normal humans so.. so.. human. Humans can’t just wipe their bad memories and walk away into a new life! It doesn’t work that way!

She went quiet and looked down at the catwalk, one hand ran back through her dark hair, pulling it out of her wet eyes, the other hand stuffed in her jeans pocket. "But he gets to pick the cowards way out if he wants… it’s not fair.”

John stepped closer and laid his hand on Silvia’s hip, his body so very near, his dark eyes level with hers as always. “He’s a fool then.. some things are worth rememberin’.” She could feel his breath on her face as he whispered the words and smelled his cigarette and that musky cologne from all those weeks ago, only a little stronger. It stung her nose and burned itself into her memory. Sage and citrus and something heavy… she smiled and leaned closer, her lips touching his.

The door opened behind Silvia and Hancock quickly stepped back, his hands folding neatly behind his back. Sil turned around quickly, unconcerned with her darkened cheeks. B9 was looking grim.

“I’ve d-decided… to… to keep my memories. I don’t want to forget how hard things can be.. so I recognize when things get better.”

“Hell yeah!”

Silvia laughed and clapped B9 on the shoulder. “That mean you’re ready to head south then? No more waiting around this shithole?”

“Hey!”

She snickered at Hancock’s objection.

“No no! Mister Hancock has been amazing… can.. can I keep the book, sir? It’s.. I’d very much like to finish it.”

“Don’t call nobody sir unless they earn it, brother, first lesson of the wasteland.” Hancock tipped his hat to the synth. “Keep the book. I’ve read it a dozen times.”

“I’ll remember that, Sir.” The synth smiled gratefully at the Ghoul. He rushed back into the room for a moment then came out with a near empty jean backpack in his arms, the book probably the only thing in it.

Silvia motioned to the stairs down. “It’ll be dark by the time we get out of here. Can ya use a gun?” At the bottom of the stairs she removed her gun from its shoulder holster and produced a second pistol from under the back of her shirt. Both were offered and the synth. Seeing no difference between the two pistols he grabbed the right one and checked the chamber.

“A little. Point and squeeze?”

She smiled and nodded. “Exactly.”

“Hey!” She looked up at the mayor still on the catwalk. “Thanks for this, Rooster.”

“You’re gonna repay the favor one of these days, Baby Bear.” He gave her that sideways half smile.. like the real thing was creeping out from behind the mask. Silvia blushed and turned away quickly.

“I got standards, too.” It was nearly impossible for her to hide her smile, even as she guided B9 into the tunnel system.

The route was easily memorized from her trip in and she wasted no time running through the open areas, leaving a dust trail behind them. The girl was quick, that was for sure, she’d out paced him twice. And with good reason, each time she’d picked off a mole rat she and Hancock had awaken with their earlier trip through. The rifle she’d used, a thin thing she kept strapped over her shoulder, made very little sound, much like her. She slowed her pace when they got past the open tunnels. The home stretch was a closed access line.. no surprises.

They waited in the tunnel below the alleyway, Silvia pacing back and forth, checking her pip-boy again and again. It was making B9 very nervous. He watched from a shadowed area, not wanting to be touched by the green storm that raged just beyond the concrete above them.

At last the waiting was more than B9 could stand. He cleared his throat and spoke over the thunder. “Black Bear.. shouldn’t we be going?”

“Right. We’ll get away from the city before bunking down for the night. Staying in Boston is too much of a risk, there are Courses around Goodneighbor, I’m sure of that.” With a sigh, Silvia checked her Pip-Boy one last time. No one was showing up. Why had she hoped he would? She looked to B9 and forced herself to focus on the job. “I need you to keep your eyes on me, and if I wave you off, take cover and don’t move til I call you out. Defend yourself if you have to, but I’m the one protecting you, brother. So let me do my job. I gotta grab my armor when we get up there, stay close to me. Are we good?”

He pulled his backpack on and zipped up his jacket, his eyes watching the green flashes above. “This ain’t gonna be easy, huh?”

“Freedom never is.” She started climbing the cargo door, stopping at the top to poke her head out and watch for movement. He was below her on the ground, ready to climb up as soon as she moved. And she did, gun drawn, creeping out of the hole, staying close to the ground. He ascended and crawled on his belly out from under the hanging metal, nervously watching it sway above him.

After a moment of scanning the skylines and streets, Silvia nodded to the synth in her charge. He nodded back and the two bolted across a city street together, Silvia watching for danger and the synth holding his head protectively.

—————-

There was a point when Deacon was sure the woman had caught sight of him. He’d nearly tripped on a nuka-cola bottle and his hand grabbed tunnel wall, sending bricks clattering over and dirt falling to the ground. He ducked quickly in the dust and backed down the railway behind him, looking for a place to hide. He was lucky, the tunnels under Boston never ran out of secrets. He stayed squatting by a pile of bones that might have been hundreds of years old.

Silvia stopped in her rush to follow after Hancock. He’d hit the tunnels running and she was trying to keep up and memorize the layout as they went. The clatter and dust of falling bricks drew her attention and she held up her Pip-Boy to check for mole-rats. Nothing.. Just old tunnels. So she rushed ahead and caught up with Hancock as if nothing had happened.

He was behind them again in seconds, following their trail through the tunnels easily. When they reached the storage vault, Deacon stood just outside of sight of two burly guards and listened to Black Bear, their newest recruit, their strongest asset at the moment, lement the Synth’s choice to wipe his memory. His face remained unchanged under dark glasses as he watched through a crack in the barricade. He was hoping she’d give something away. Despite all the good she had done for the Railroad.. and more than that, for people all over the commonwealth, she was still an unknown. She never gave a reason for her need to do what she did, She never asked for rewards and when she got them, she often gave them away. She called it 'Investing’ once. Said it was good for everyone. She seemed to have a thing for ghouls. While that was interesting.. it wasn’t the information he wanted.

He stayed close and all but held his breath in the shadows near the alleyway entrance to the tunnels. She stood there waiting for that ghoul for what.. twenty minutes? Thirty.. too long, he wasn’t coming. Deacon had dealt with Hancock more than a few times, and the guy was a menace. It was just a matter of time before some new overlord showed up in Goodneighbor and took over. Someone just like him. Maybe not as ugly though. Silvia was in over her head with the Mayor.. but he wasn’t there to give advice. He was there to watch, and make sure she was doing her job for the right reasons. So he tailed Silvia out of Boston, never far away, as he’d been doing for the last few days.

Chapter Text

It’s a long slow road out of Boston. The storm was drying up but still crackled and blew around them like it might still have another kick left. Silvia, the Railroad Heavy known as Black Bear, powered down the main highway in her heavy armor. Close behind followed a well built, white haired man of about 50, hauling a backpack over his shoulder.

She was expecting more resistance, the southern corridor wasn’t used as often and there hadn’t been a Railroad heavy this way in months, according to Drummer. So Black Bear had her eyes wide and scanning, her rifle set to night vision and her ammo bag ready with backup, expecting trouble behind every tree and on top of every building

B9 stayed on her tail. Sometimes under it. he smacked his forehead on her elbow once and tripped himself on her foot armor twice in an attempt to use Black Bear as cover from whatever was startling him so. The lightning seemed to get him the worst. She wondered if he’d ever experienced weather before the escape. Or night, for that matter. There was a mumbled and frightened apology with each collision. Silvia had been through it before (though never with power armor on. She was doing a lot more damage than normal this time) and reassured him that he was safe. How had this shaky thing broken free of an institute lab?

Whatever he faced in the Institute he knew, he could process and work around.. but out here he had no idea what was coming at him. And that realization hit her when she heard the beep - beep - beep of a suicide bomber behind an overgrown fence to their right, the thud thud of his footsteps growing louder. Black Bear slowed her step, hoping B9 didn’t crash into her again. He slowed and she turned around enough to hold up a hand to his face before he could ask questions. He didn’t know that the beeping sound meant a super mutant with a death wish was close.. maybe 30 yards, by her guess, and walking away from them now. While a second set of footsteps came closer, no beep accompanying it. The beeps held no familiarity to B9 as it would any other wastelander. That’s why he was scared.

The rad storm still thrashed about in the night, throwing off the last spikes of radiation. If she wanted to use it as cover she’d have to hurry.

A snarl destroyed her plans, the sound familiar. One of the mutated Dogs that meant she’d be paying for armor repairs later came strolling around the fence they’d been crouched beside. Might have been sleeping right there all along.

She recognized B9 didn’t know that sound either. And when the beast came face to face with Silvia’s armored head, B9 screamed in surprise. He turned and bolted, doing just what she’d instructed him to do, and Silvia dropped her gun to pull a long jagged blade from her armor plated thigh.

The beast clamped down on Black Bear’s armored head and growled, drool oozing into the face plate and dripping down her already sweating neck. She made a horrified sound in a high pitched voice, it resonated mechanical coming from her faceplate. With her blade free and gripped in one metal hand, she took one mighty armor-enhanced swing and the beast’s guts came tumbling from underneath it, a great howl following before it dropped to the ground, snarling it’s last few breaths.

The beep - beep - beep came close quickly and Silvia grabbed her rifle in her free hand, backing away from the lone opening in the long shrub-covered fence. The suicider went down fast, and she even smiled a little when her single breath of calculations landed her a direct shot between the scarred mutant’s eyes. The bomb in his hand went off in a massive explosion, throwing the second attacking mutant in her direction. Her left hand dropped and the right came up to block his sledge hammer attack with the strong forearm of her power armor. He bore down, growling into her face. One knee planted into the dirt and she pushed up against the mutant. It cracked her armor plating somewhere, she heard the little click of weak metal. Another push upwards and her left arm swung up again, the gun scooped up in her left hand and maneuvered so she could fire. She unloaded round after round into the mutant’s chest and stomach. He gargled blood down the front of Silvia’s armor before the sledge fell from his hands and he slumped, choking on his own blood. She dropped down on her armored hands and knees, pressing her blade and rifle against the ground, her eyes scanning the fence line. She heard more, but couldn’t place them with the thumping of her own heartbeat in her ears. Her hands gripped the weapons and slung her blade back to the magnetic strip on her armored leg. The rifle was reloaded and Silvia grabbed onto her shoulder pack, deep into the bottom.. to pull out two green apples; Good old fashion hand grenades.

She took a rueful look back the way they had came, the way B9 had gone running back down the narrow road and knew the guy would do exactly what she had told him. Finding him might be a bitch, and that was a good thing.

For now, she needed to clear out these super mutants. She finally stood. Her weapon was reloaded and she’s flipped off a few damage sensors on her helm and arm. Her clanky steps brought her past the tall fence through a thin fog, where she was able to stay low and hidden, moving her armored legs deliberately with the last cracks of thunder above.

The fenced-in area turned out to be a car lot, and she knew this was going to be easy… until she saw the cages.

In the center of the lot the cars had been.. literally.. tossed aside. They had pulled up the pavement and had a big pit full of firewood and a spit with a whole ragstag impaled along it, one wrinkle-faced green-skinned moron spinning the spit, the other playing with an equally green hellhound, tossing a human head out into the cars and laughing as the great beast crashed windshields and dented hoods trampling his way across them to find the bloody head.

Behind the pair, as far away as they could be at this point, were a row of squat cages. She made out a couple of moving figures in the cages and hoped against hope none were human. Or Synth.

So much for making a crater. She’d have to snipe these guys off fast and hope no more came running.

Silvia, still crouching, ducked between the closest car to the mutants and the edge of a garage wall. There was no garage beyond it. She lined up a keen shot across the length of the car lot and hit her target… the rear end of a T77 Wizard Cruzer, an early model fusion based car. Bad in her time for meltdowns, she was sure it’d cause a boom. And it didn’t disappoint. The blast from the sleek pile of rust shook the spit and both mutants stood, the dog running off into the fire to find it’s source. Silvia was lining up for the second shot, the base of one wrinkled ass Super Mutant’s skull. Another explosion came as Silvia held her breath and, with timing she couldn’t hope for on her best days, the mutant dropped in time with the boom. She took a deep breath and found the second mutant’s ear in her sight as he looked down to his unmoving brother. She sent a .50 cal into his hideous cauliflowered ear and out the other side.

She was quiet, watching for the dog, watching for other mutants, for raiders.. for anything. The shapes in the cages struggled and paced and she could hear the barking. It drew the large mutant hound back from the blazing car fire and into the open. This beast wasn’t as easy to put down, he took several bullets to the chest and neck and kept on coming, and when he lunged Silvia stuffed the gun down his throat and let it unload into his gullet. The beast bit and pulled and snarled at her hand and the rifle she held until blood was covering everything and the animal finally slumped off her arm.

Looking at her ripped and punctured armplate and the mess that razor sharp teeth have made of her rifle stock, she realizes just how messy things could have gotten. There was no time she would admit that the wasteland scared her. Not even at the beginning. She remembers how she felt when that first Deathclaw came to take her head. The disconnection she felt from reality at that moment. The feeling in her gut saying ’That can’t be real.. it defies all logic.’. It hit her less often as time went on. When she met Valentine it messed with her sense, made her feel like something was broken. When she first saw the Glowing Sea it was so unbelievably hostile that she thought the dream had cracked and she might wake up.. but never did. There was no shock this time.. but in the back of her mind the old, frozen Silvia was screaming. She understood B9’s fear better than she’d ever admit.

There was a lot to do, and she needed to be quiet about it. The fire was dying down, the area was dead except for the barking of caged dogs and the last of the storm was finally clear. Silvia pushed a few buttons inside the grips of her power armor to release it’s hydraulics. Climbing down from the armor was getting easier every time she used it.

She turned to the cages, loud whimpers and barks mixing with the rattling metal. Black Bear turned on her pip-boy’s light and looked in each cage. The first was empty, but she knew that. The second cage had a single solid black dog, big head, lots of muscles.. and a vicious snarl on his foaming muzzle. The choice was made right then and there to put the dog down. But as she held the rifle to the cage and aimed.. she realized she had to give the thing a chance. Silvia was a softy, that’s all there was to it. So she backed off and grabbed a chunk of meat off the ground near the blasted campfire and held it out to the cage. The dog ignored it and kept on snapping and barking at her, foam dripping from the edges of his teeth. She dropped the meat on the top of the cage, where the dog could have pulled it down if he’d wanted.. still it lunged against the cage to attack her. So that was it. With a pop and a rattle of a smoking shell casing, the beast was quiet and Silvia looked at the next cage, trying to keep her heart together.

These two dogs were both leaner and not nearly as noisy. She pulled another piece of meat off the tossed radstag-ka-bob and kneeled down, holding her gloved hand close to the cage. Both dogs growled a little, but stayed in the back corner. They wouldn’t be coming near her if she opened the door. So she pushed the meat into the cage. The larger of the two dogs grabbed it up first of course.. brown with brown eyes. Were there even breeds anymore? This one looked like a brown labrador. A really small one. She was straight eared and someone had bothered to bob her tail. The chances were this dog belong to someone. She hoped whoever it was was still alive. And the other was skinny as a match stick and.. what was the word for that coloring? She was tiger striped, orange and black streaking her whole body, her muzzle a solid, engulfing black.. like Hancock’s eyes. Beautiful animals. She hoped they had a home to go back to as she opened the cage to let them run off into the dark ruins.

Leaving her armor in the car lot, she headed back for the road her and B9 had come down.. he’d be safe now, so it was time to track him down. She left her rifle with the armor and opted for a .44, something she could use at close range. The road leading back the way they came should be clear, but there was never a reason to let one’s guard down. Silvia took it easy, every 10 steps or so she’d let out a little whistle and say “Marco” in a calm voice. He’d reply when she got close to him, that had been the plan.

He didn’t reply. The tiger dog did.. the first couple of times she whistled the dog whimpered. It was tracking her.. following close behind. Not hiding, just.. following. She let it for a while. Each time she raised her voice it raised its forward-flopping ears and stopped walking.. then followed again, calmly pacing her by 20 feet.

Silvia had traveled half a mile and was starting to wonder if B9 had just booked it back to Goodneighbor. Silvia grunted. She stopped and checked her pip-boy’s clock. They’d never make University Point by morning at this rate. Her arm dropped and she found the tiger striped dog at her side, sitting still, looking up at her with those big dark eyes and floppy ears. Silvia suppressed a laugh and leaned down, holding a hand out to the animal. “You wanna find B9 for me?” The dog sniffed at her hand and dragged a sagging tongue across her palm. “Go get em, girl.. find my package.” and she waved her hand enthusiastically forward, urging the dog on. The striped creature went rushing forward and bounced into the underbrush off to the right. She didn’t return for several moments and Silvia kept on walking, figuring she scared the animal off.

“Marko” she spoke again, searching the open area of field before her with trained eyes. He was good at this game.

Out of the brush comes the striped dog. She dropped to her belly right in front of Sil and lays her chin on her paws. well this is odd indeed. She started to move again but the dog got in front of her and dropped once more. Alright, not something Dogmeat has ever done before. “What do you want?” It’s ears raised and the tip if it’s tail wiggled. It stood up and barked. “Well, what is it?” She waved her arms and the dog’s whole body wagged. With her tongue hanging out she went running off ahead. Silvia rushed to keep up. She turned into the bushes to the right again and rushed for an underpass pillar.

Silvia stopped as she approached the pillar. “Marko”

“p-p-Polo!”

—————————

The trio returned for Black Bear’s power armor and gun. She stopped before suiting up to salvage a flank from the rag-stag, wrapping it in old newspaper she found in one of the cars. If things went right, the meat would be breakfast in a couple of hours. She held a few scraps aside and tossed them to the lean dog that’d decided to join them. She was reluctant to eat the first piece.. but after a little kind encouragement there was a full, happy canine resting beside B9 as he watched her repair her rifle with some duct tape and climb back into the armor.

The dog started growling as soon as the armor moved, and B9 leaned down to hush it. Black Bear’s voice rang out mechanical and the dog’s head tilted. “Stop that, floopy.” The dog quieted. After that it was easy going. Black Bear thumped along and B9 gave her a little more room, not seeming quite as frightened.

By the time they reached University Point the sun was cresting above the ocean, yet far to the west a blue starfield stretches across the sky, the moon hanging beyond.

The sign reading Welcome Traders in big white letters over an empty booth in an empty room didn’t make the hairs on her arms stand up anymore. The skull she crushed under her foot wasn’t surprising or grotesque. Another little smile broke across her lips ‘pulled up my big girl panties’

University Point. She’d not been there in a year, at least. Of course there was more grass on the ground and a couple of trees had started growing in the commons. She remembered the pain fresh and new. Second gen synths still strewn around the overgrown and unused hub. The big building near the beach, sinking slowly into the ocean, it’s door kicked in and bullet holes across its walls. With a soft sigh she put old memories away, it was pulling her out of the moment.. out of the danger. This place could have been re-taken. But the cobwebs and trash and green growing on everything told her no one wanted to save this part of the Commonwealth. The sea would reclaim it soon enough.

B9 had stopped near the front gate to look at the twisted and burned remains of a gen 2 synth in the light of the raising sun. He kneeled down, deep in thought as Silvia and the striped dog wandered into the ruins of University Point. She headed right, wanting to see if the bank’s basement was still in tact. The dog started sniffing her way towards the ocean, nose on the ground. She wondered if the dog would come back. Hoped it would.

There was a lot of grit in the door of the bank, and Silvia had a hard time forcing it open once it was unlocked, even with her power armor, it didn’t want to budge. At last, with a screech the heavy metal door slid against the cement floor inside the teller’s area of the financial hub. She ignored the registers and turned left, thumping heavily down the stairs to the break room. Against the back wall of the break room was a long metal gate, a looming iron door blocking access to the vault and it’s terminal. Silvia had the key, so to speak. She hit the releases on her hand-grips in her armor and the suit hissed around her. Silvia jumped down and pulled her knit cap off, long black hair spinning around her neck as she kneeled in front of the gate door. She’d spent a month in this little hole feeling very safe, and picking this lock was like using a key. The gate was open, and Silvia was tapping at the vault’s access terminal.

All the bashing of metal on metal had brought the striped dog down into the basement. Behind her, B9, cradling an armful of dirty carrots and tatos he must have found out in the commons. Good thing much of the basement break room was taken up by a cozy little kitchen. And it was mostly clean. Dusty, but not covered in trash like everything else in the Point. The electricity worked fine, so maybe the water did, too? Seeing as the vault door was still tightly locked, there was a good chance the vault hadn’t been tampered with.

There were a series of loud crashes of metal on metal. B9 jumped back from the gate guarding the vault door and watched, clutching his vegetables. The tiger-dog barked in it’s deep hound voice, her tail down and ears back.

It was just a room full of safes. Like any other bank vault. There were some damaged and missing doors, a few safes remained closed and locked, and money and a few Jet inhalers sat around the room. Nothing had been touched. “Yes!” The dog stopped barking, floppy ears raised, She sniffed Sil’s steps into the vault, hunting the room with her nose for.. whatever dogs hunt for.

Which one was it… Silvia kneeled down to one of the many safes filling the room and grabbed a bobby pin out of her collar. It took a few moments to loosen the old lock but the door swung open and Silvia started hitting buttons. First the little one in back. There was a thump upstairs. Silvia had installed that one herself just last year.

The dog’s whole body whipped around and she went running up the stairs to see what the noise was, her bark deep and frightening.. it was odd coming from such a slight animal.

B9 stood inside the vault now, his attention drawn to the far wall when it started to slide open smoothly. He gasped and dropped a tato.

Silvia had hit the big button, opening the hidden room beside the vault. She had no idea what it’d been used for.. if it was older than her, or something new. The machine press made her think money printing, but that would be silly. But there was a work bench and an armor stand and she was sure she could knock a few dings out of her armor if she needed to. More then that, there was a kitchen, a couple of beds and safety from the wasteland for a few hours.

Silvia grabbed the Tato off the floor and snatched another from B9’s arm. “Do you know anything about cooking?” She asked as she left the hidden room wide open and headed back for the kitchen.

“Uh…”

“That’s what I thought.”

———————-

The massive steel door to the Credit Union swung closed loudly in Deacon’s face. Another step and he would have lost a leg. He tipped back on his heels and looked at the offending door through his dark glasses. The Brendle they’d picked up along the way was barking on the other side, and if he wasn’t sure there was just a skinny little mutt behind the door, he’d believe it was something fearsome.

After a moment, Deacon shrugged and went back outside the building to find a perch and watch. He knew the credit union had a vault in it somewhere, and figured she was using it as bunk so they could rest. Not the best idea.. no inside locks and no way out? Her choice, he was just there to watch.

He’d been watching for a while.. and still knew very little about the woman. She seemed like any other wastelander at first, the scratched up body armor and metal plates strapped to old patched clothes, the knit hat she hid all her hair in. She scavenged like a wastelander, stealing bits and parts from every creature (and person) she took down. She fought like a wastelander. He’d seen her calmly step between settlers and mutated, three-headed fire breathing ragstags and mirelurk Queens the size of twelve Behemoths. He considered the possibility she was Brotherhood for a time, her marksmanship was near perfect, and he’d watched her modify her weapons on several occasions. To say she knew her way around a gun was putting it mildly.

He’d decided that she worked better without the suit. She was quick and lethal in close combat as long as she was unhindered. The armor had it’s advantages, however; B9 wasn’t fast, and with Silvia stomping along beside him, he wasn’t a target.

Deacon climbed over rubble and growth to reach the opposite building’s second floor. He dropped to the ground beside a window, pulled a dresser to his left side to block the stairs, and unhooked his strapped on survival pack. His rifle was lifted and he stared down the scope out the window, watching the front and back entrances to the credit union.

He had started tailing her long before she walked the trail. She allied herself with the Minutemen at some point, and that’s when she started pinging on his radar. A settlement saved by a lone woman in scrapped armor and a pip-boy, a monster slain by a wide eyed, raven haired warrior woman.. with a pip-boy. He got more than a dozen reports in one month about the woman and decided it was time to see for himself.

She didn’t keep many friends, only one or two inside the compound called Sanctuary. He’d come in a time or two in disguise. He’d watch the woman as was his job, and asked to be introduced, but the scavver girl with the pip-boy wasn’t something any of the residents of Sanctuary wanted to share with the outside world. They kept her secrets, whatever they may be. They were loyal. So were the settlements around Sanctuary. And as the months passed and she traveled westward little by little, there was no one north of Diamond City who didn’t know about the scavver with the pip-boy who kept the north safe from bears and bugs and raiders. The caravans all joked about the scrappy girl with the big pale eyes, called her ghost, called her Yao Guai, said she’d slashed the head off a monstrous green bear with nothing but her boot knife… but there was still no real information.

A scout informed him that a scavver with a pip-boy was poking around Swan’s pond and he knew right away who it was. Months of following her, slipping holotapes in her path, opening up conversations around her about synths. Curiosity had finally won. She was quick, like she’d walked the lines before and knew where each point was, she buzzed along the trail with a scrap of paper and a marker in her hand, jotting down each code. The small herd of ferals they left roaming the church’s catacombs wasn’t a detergent.. he knew it wouldn’t be.

He didn’t have much time to round up Des, Glory and Drummer Boy. They were all annoyed with his insistence that this girl was the real deal, sure she wouldn’t even get the door open. None of them wanted to admit that getting this far was rarely achieved.

He argued his case. Her case. He told the little crew of freedom fighters about how she saved Valentine, how she dressed up as the Shroud.. She was not happy about any of this, and half way through she started yelling at him, screaming, accusing him of spying on her. Glory couldn’t stop laughing.. it wasn’t easy to back Deacon down, but he admitted he’d been watching, and that he thought the Railroaded needed her.

Desdemona wanted none of it. Glory was furious. They both started yelling. Silvia was yelling at Deacon, and Deacon was calculating his chances of escape. It was Drummer Boy that shot them all down with his typically low, even voice raised to nearly a shout. “He went looking for you and found you. You came looking for us and found us. We’re all on the same god-damned page.”

And that was it. He was right.

Since that moment, maybe 5 months ago, he’d trained Silvia in the codes used by the Railroad, the protocols and routes they took. When she was out of his hands, he watched as often as he was able. But still he learned so very little. No home, no family, no last name. She liked to be clean, liked to keep her hair washed. She ate well and it showed in her cheeks and the curve of her shoulders. She was shy and modest, and only took what she needed. She didn’t like being rewarded, but seemed to enjoy being near the settlers and caravans when they settled around the fire to eat and drink each night. He’d sat along with her more than a few times (disguised, of course). She would listen to the stories the old men told about hunting and surviving. She’d listen to stories of the Institute, the Brotherhood of Steel. She heard stories about the Capitol Wasteland, how harsh life was there. She smiled when men talked about their children, or when the settlements she visited had them, but never interacted.. always watching.

So basically all he knew was she wanted to do good things, hurt bad people, didn’t talk much, and liked to eat. Shit. It might just be time to ask her what her motivation was, because he was getting nowhere.

Not today. He wasn’t there as far as she was concerned. He watched the end building across the commons through his scope and listened to the shriek of gulls on the shore. There was no movement at the bank for hours. The coast had been quite except for a few crawlers sifting through the beach sands for breakfast. They must be sleeping, he decided, and dared to catch a couple hours of shuteye himself.

—————————–

The scratching of metal on cement woke Deacon hours later. Black Bear was armored up again, a patch on her right arm plate shone a little brighter than the rest of her armor.

The dog bolted off to relieve herself and Silvia took B9 down the incline to the beach. It was calm this close to the swamps, and the little waves lapped up against a dead crawler. They were both well fed and awake, and ready to travel non-stop to Mercer Safehouse. They talked about the trip there, what they’d do when they got there: just rest and resupply and get an update on the southern route through the swamp. Neither really wanted to get back on the road. The dog was barking off behind her and the sun shone high above. For a few seconds she stole the fleeting memories back, of her on the beach in a cheap dress with her bare feet in the sand. 16, way too skinny. Her mom yelling from the dune, saying they had to leave, they had to leave. The car beyond the dune packed and her family stuffed into the open spaces, one space still open for her beside her older brother. And all she wanted was to stay in that moment just a little longer….

She shifted, the clank of her armor groaning around her and her weapon shifting on her arm brought her back to the present. It wasn’t near as beautiful, but damn if a picture ain’t worth a thousand memories.

Silvia turned to climb the hill and B9 was close behind, his backpack over his shoulders and the scruff on his face freshly shaven. He’d kept his hair white, even though she’d offered to color it. The shave made him look a little younger, but the lines in his face gave him away. How long had he been.. alive. She wasn’t going to ask.

“Do you think we can look for more books?” he asked as they reached to the commons once more. The dog came loping back to them and B9 reached down and gave the dog a good scrub behind the ears. he’d found the spot when interacting with the dog before sleep. The floopy creature seemed to like the synth but when it came to sleeping she stayed tucked between Silvia’s legs til she woke.

“Are you done with that one already? Didn’t Rooster have more?”

“I only took the one.” He shrugged.

“Of course. Hmm… I don’t know anywhere close that might have in tact books. But we’ll keep an eye out, alright?”

He smiled behind her, she knew it. The road was clear ahead as far as they could tell, but Silvia was ready as always. A different rifle graced her presence this time, a stockier build with a silencer twice as big as the hilt. She hoped to have the light to snipe anything that might cause them problems.

Floppy Dog rushed on ahead, sniffing in the tall grass and around the houses they’d started to pass.

B9 finally spoke again, startling Silvia. “I think I want to be Ben.”

“What?” She didn’t look back at him.

“My name. I want it to be Ben. Not B9.”

“Well.. that’s a good name. It’s short for Benjamin, you know.”

“Yes! My name is Benjamin.”

You come up with a last name?

“Um… Uh… No.”

“Well why did you pick Ben?”

“Rooster told me about the state house and his coat and John Hancock and.. and Benjamin Franklin and how he helped end slavery. 'All men are created equal!’”

Silvia smiled in her hemlate. He left out the part about Franklin owning slaves “Figures Rooster would sell you on the whole freedom routine.. it’s kinda his thing. So who else did he tell you about? Maybe pick another name from-”

“No one.. there wasn’t time.”

She was quiet for a few moment. Floppy Dog had come back and this time stayed close to Silvia, who was trying to focus on the swamp ahead, knowing it’d hide things that didn’t give a shit about American History. “I’ll tell you one I remember.. Frederick Douglass. Well, he had a different name before he escaped from slavery, but I can’t remember it. He changed it to Douglass after he escaped.”

B9.. Ben.. he moved closer to her side rather then behind her, wanting to hear her metallic voice over the rumble of footsteps and protesting steel.

“See, he was a slave a long time ago. Before the great war, before the institute, before the robots, before microwave ovens, there was farm land, far and wide.” She waved her armored hand out before her, indicating the swamp that stretched out before them. “ And speckled across it were grand plantation houses full of old men in fine clothes with lots of power. These men owned all the land, and to take care of all the work it took to grow food and cotton and tobacco, the old men kept slaves. The slaves were not educated. They worked, even the young ones, and when they stepped out of line they were beaten. They didn’t have any rights, and were traded and treated like property.”

“Wait.. so everyone was either a slave or an old man?” Ben wasn’t enjoying this story. That would change.

“No.. No the old men.. well there were a lot of different kinds of slave owners, but when you look at the history books for that time, a lot of the richest ones were old men with big white beards. And not everyone was a slave.. there were a whole lot of normal people just trying to get by. I’d think they were the lucky ones cause just getting by is a lot better than.. well than being the slave or the master.

He considered that for a moment, then nodded, still looking unsure "Why.. why were some of them slaves? Were they different?”

“Yeah.. they had a different skin color.”

He stopped walking for a few steps before catching up. “That was it?”

“That was it. Don’t ask me why, I don’t understand it either. But someone who thought it was a good idea had enough money and power to make it happen.”

She wondered if he thought of Father that way now. She wasn’t sure, herself.

She took a deep breath “Well one of the slaves, well he learned how to read and learned what freedom was, and one day when the slave owners came to beat him and take his books, he fought back.”

She knew it struck a nerve with the runaway synth, he’d been caught sneaking books back to his cell and when they raided him they beat him with sticks that stung and sparked bright lites. And he fought back. She was getting the story pretty close, but maybe changing a little detail here and there wasn’t a bad thing. Hell, who even knew who Frederick Douglass was in this day and age? Well, two people, now. She couldn’t help but wonder if that seed would grow.

He was stuck on her words, nearly tripping over the dog as it weaved between them. “He fought back? What happened to him?”

“Well he went and got his two closest friends (true) and left the plantation.. they ran away (true) but of course the slave owner was after them. His friends and him almost got caught. He was saved by a man with a boat who took him way down south so he could find some freedom. (all wrong, but close enough) He worked really hard, bought his own books, learned to speak in public, and wrote books about how bad slavery was. He spent his whole life fighting to free slaves because he knew how bad it really was.”

She didn’t tell him about the problems he had, or what happened after he started speaking publicly.. and almost regretted it. He was quite a long time, but the smile at the corners of his lips and eyes just grew and grew.

“Benjamin Douglass.” He muttered. She glanced back at him. He seemed content. Calm.

“It sounds like a good solid name.. but I could tell you about others. There have been a lot of strong people who came from nothing in this world.. a lot of people who want to make the world better.”

“But in the end it really doesn’t matter what your name is, or who remembers it.. as long as you’re doing something good with your life.” Ben was still smiling “No.. I want to keep it. It’s a good name.. and I plan on reading everything I find from this day forward. Maybe.. even write something of my own down. But.. I don’t really know if I can live up to the rest of it.”

“You don’t have to. Like I said, The normal people are the lucky ones.”

“Normal sounds good. Benjamin Douglass, normal person.”

Silvia laughed metallic. “You spent way too much time with Hancock.”

——————————

When they saw the little shack at the edge of the wetlands Black Bear remembered why she brought the armor. The real test was just ahead.

Nemonset Park was almost gone now, the actual camp grounds laid under swamp, the lone shack closest to the road was a shell, the west half simply.. gone.. and a glowing green light came from inside. They’d have to clear out a spot somewhere to hide Ben so she could deal with the real problem, so with absolutely no finesse whatsoever, Black Bear, clad in power armor, a sword in her left hand and Boris, her daytime rifle in her right, stomped into the half-house and emptied her rifle magazine into the glowing green Mirelurk guarding a mess of eggs.

Black Bear’s metallic voice was muffled by her helm, but Ben could clearly hear the powerful yells Silvia let out as she hacked at the creature. Messy.

The striped dog stayed back while she fought the beast. She was low to the ground, watching, her big ears hanging forward and the very tip of her tail wiggled. When Silvia was done and the body settled, she came closer to investigate.

Black Bear was poping holes in all the eggs in the room, realizing this was the worst place to camp out now that the apocalypse had let super craps breed in it. Still, this was it til they passed the gauntlet. Ben climbed into the shack and looked around, a nasty frown across his face. “so what are those things anyway?”

“Oh.. right. Mirelurk. All these slimy sea monsters are Mirelurks.” Her gun snapped as she destroyed each large egg, not wanting to bother saving any for food. “They mutated from sea creatures after the Great War. These are horseshoe crabs or.. or arthropods or something. There’s some like frogs, some like lobsters, and those give me nightmares. Back before the war *pop pop pop* these things were smaller than your hand. Couldn’t harm you if they tried. Well maybe pinch a finger or something. Still scary as hell though.” Pop “If there is water around you need to watch out. They’ll bury themselves under the mud” pop pop “and snap you up from underneath when you’re walking by.”

“That’s.. that’s..”

pop pop

“I know. This whole world wants to eat you.. gonna have to get used to that.” Something dashed by them into the tall grass of the swamp.. Silvia caught sight of the dog’s tail as she darted around the bounding.

Silvia thudded on old wood boards as she ventured to the nearly intact front porch of the muddied out building. Crouching in her power armor, she searched the wetlands that stretched out before her. She was looking for the signs of mirelurks; bubbles from the water, lumps in the ground, nests and pipes and dead trees to hide under. There were a couple, and as she aimed for the furthest apart from the rest, Ben came through the tilted door of the shack. He’d taken off his hat and his jean jacket and was placing both in the backpack. No wonder, the swamps were a little warmer and a lot more humid. Now he really looked like an old man, and Silvia stopped in her slaughter to stare at him. A smile creeped across her face and she looked back to the wetlands, hunting out potential danger. Snap snap snap snap. Silvia unloaded a volley into a lump in the mud and it deflated moments later, sinking slowly into the mire.

“How do you think they got that way?” He was leaning on the broken railing, watching her hunt through the scope of her rifle.

“No idea.. fallout after the bombs maybe.. or someone decided the crabs needed to be bigger so they could have more crab salad. Hell maybe the institute did it, like the Super Mutants.”

His eyes went wide.. then he frowned deeply and grumphed like a cranky old man. Silvia glanced over.. then went back to her hunting, letting him sort it out.

He looked a lot like Shaun. Not Her Shaun.. the Institute’s Shaun.. with the white hair and the beard.. with his father’s eyebrows. He didn’t have the dimples in his cheek like he had as a baby, and it had made her a bit sad that his blue eyes weren’t nearly as vibrant as his father’s. Her only trip to the institute thus far had been a mind-breaking event for her. For weeks after she refused to come out of her house in Sanctuary, all she could do was huddle in the corner of her room and cry. Sturges brought her fresh food a few times a day, and each time left with a full plate from the last meal. Preston finally reached the point he was yelling at her. It frightened the whole settlement. It took Mama Murphy to pull her out of the slump, and the woman wasn’t even using the sight to remind her that people still needed her. Even now it made her eyes burn to know he was still right there, somewhere below her feet… She wasn’t willing to do it again yet, but the more she watched these synths, the more people she helped escape the slavery her own son had forced on them, the more she wanted to hate her son.. and just couldn’t. And every single synth she saved had something to remind her of him. Ben was no different. But he had no idea that Black Bear was really his grandma. Better to keep it that way.

Lost in thought, Silvia barely registered the three kills she made. It was automatic. When the snapping stopped Silvia set down the gun and hit the hydraulics.

The armor hissed as the back opened and Black Bear stepped out in jeans and a sweat soaked sleeveless undershirt. She knew the armor would heat up fast once they hit the swamp. She kicked away a few clumps of moss and cleared out the wooden porch a little before dropping down in the shadow of her armor. There really was no ceremony when it came to Silvia. She was grabbing out mutfruit and a wrapped up chunk of cooked meat from the meal they ate before sleeping, hours ago. Three water bottles were produced and she held up the little meal in her slim hands, grinning. “We eat, then you’re gonna stay here with Floppy Dog and the armor while I scout the area, find the best way south. Decide if we’re going to hit Mercer Safehouse.. might have to if this place is too hostile. But for now..” She held out one of the water bottles and the older synth took it with a smile. He sank carefully to the porch and crossed his legs.

“You think the dog will stay with me? She likes you more.”

“Huh.. really?” She downed a good deal of her water bottle way too fast and went right for the mute fruit. She’d give anything for a strawberry sometimes. Blackberrys never really were her thing, but these mutated hybrids were firm enough and sweet enough she could handle it. Ben had gone after the meat first. The dog must have smelled something, because she came bouncing across the mire, splashing up sludge, and climbed onto the porch totally filthy. Black Bear was laughing as the dog shook herself off all over them, Ben was horrified.. more than he’d been facing the Mirelurk. Black Bear couldn’t stop giggling at the face he made, and after a moment he cracked a little smile.

“I suppose this is what it means to be normal?”

“You got it, brother.”

He smiled some more and finished his meat, sharing it with the muddy animal that dropped beside them. She had a few bites then fell to her side, stretching out between them.

“Floppy Dog suits her.” Ben noted. 'The name must have registered, Floppy raised her head a little, tongue lolling out.. she dropped her head with a little thump and made a grunting sound.

“It does. Someone must be missing her.”

“What do you mean?”

“Dogs and people go together. This one must have had a person.”

“Maybe not.. maybe that’s why she’s with you.”

“She’s got really bad judgment.” Black Bear smiled and took another sip of her water to wash down the mutfruit.

———————————

Quincy was quite. A few scavvers roamed the edged and she was sure someone had set up camp in the middle of town, but they weren’t out in force. Probably hiding because the quarry close by was over-run by raiders. She’d been updated by the Minutemen a week before that they’d been causing problems for the Murkwater Construction Site. This was the perfect excuse to come this far south and deal with the problem. Murkwater is where the Railroad had set up Mercer Safehouse and her contact was there, just beyond Quincy Quarries, waiting to pick up Ben.

Black Bear intended to go right through Quincy Quarries, remove the raider threat and clear the way for her people to clean up and utilize the area. Then it’d be easy to move Ben in and out of Mercer without anyone even noticing he was there. If she finished fast enough they’d make it to the little settlement by sundown.

She took the time to scout the quarry and count the raiders. There were tunnels below and she’d have to clear them. Good thing Ben was staying back at the campsite, he’d get in the way here. She was quick and quiet and they had no idea she was within feet of many of them at some point. No one died. Not yet. She dropped mines all over the compound as she went, then rushed back to the campsite to grab her armor and take out the trash.

—————–

She was good.. She snuck in and out of the cut stone blocks and levels of the quarry. She stopped under one hut and came back out moments later, shimmied down a stone wall and dropped, undetected, into the platform below. The crew of Quincy Quarry had no idea she was there, in and out in about half an hour before she darted back off across the wetlands to get her battle armor on.

Deacon followed her back and watched as she readied for battle. The synth, He was calling himself Ben now, and the whippet-lean brindle dog sat on the crooked porch watching Black Bear preload her weapons. She told Ben to stay low and not stray too far from the building because she had set a few traps around. He wasn’t happy, but she had been thorough about clearing the marsh around them, there was no threat, just his fear.

Now Deacon sat atop a shelled trailer close to the quarry watching through his scope. She was a crack shot, hitting the mines she’d left from her perch atop the wall, snapping off shots that sent blood spraying from the backs of heads. With a crash that match the mine explosions, she jumped into the quarry, armor suit cracking the stone under her feet. The raiders swarmed around her, the gun rattle and dust making it impossible for Deacon to know what was happening in the pit.

It was hours later, late in the evening with the threat of sunset looming, when the shooting finally stopped and there was eerie silence. Deacon watched through his scope for the armored heavy to reappear. She didn’t disappoint. Black Bear came strolling from the smoke, splashing through the radioactive water at the base of the quarry. There were bulletholes in her armor, scorch marks on her helmet and blood dripped from her right leg and covered her footplate. She was limping a little, even with the armor on. There was a black case in her arms, like a thick suitcase, worn out at the corners. She set the case down and dropped the rifles on her shoulders and all but fell out of her armor when the back opened up.

Deacon was amazed she’d only been hit once. The heavy armor had protected her through a firestorm of bullets, it’d kept the mines she placed from blowing her up. And now that the smoke was clearing and he got a good view of the armor, it looked like that and worse.

Black Bear had jabbed a stimpak into her thigh and sat cross legged against the back of her armor suit’s leg. She downed a bottle of water and watched the sun lower in the sky, and he was sure she was just waiting for the pain to die down.

He thought the armor might get her and Ben to Mercer Safehouse.. and it did, just barely. Something.. maybe a rail gun, had torn out a hole along her lower back plate and it was making movement slow. They reached Murkwater Construction Site just after dark. The people there, mostly Synths at this point though they didn’t know that, were happy to have her. She casually introduced Ben and said she’d found him while clearing out the Quarry and was going to take him home tomorrow and.. that was it. No one questioned, and Caretaker was just a little relieved that he didn’t have to devise a cover story for the escaped synth.

Things were just as they always would be when Silvia was in one of the settlements she helped build. She was treated well, fed her and gave her a bed. Of course they treated Ben with the same hospitality, and Deacon was glad to see that Silvia brought out those actions in others. Deacon didn’t bother to mingle with the settlement. He was fine watching.

There was nothing to hear, as Silvia had stopped chatting as soon as more than Ben and the dog filled her space. A few short words and “thank yous” and the rest of the evening she just listened to the settlers talk about the tarberry crop and the mirelurk they’d bagged that day for dinner. She ate her food, sharing it with the dog who was close most of the night, except when Silvia through a stick thoughtlessly after plucking all the bark off, and Floppy went running off into the swamp. There was worry on the heavy’s face, til the dog came bouncing through the mud with the barkless stick in her mouth, her ears alert but still sagging forward over her eyes.

When settlers drifted off into their shacks and found their beds, and Silvia did the same outside, under the stars with the dog and a bedroll, and Ben stretched out on a mattress in the kitchen… well Deacon decided he was almost done. Black Bear would travel south with the package, hit Plymouth in the next 2 days.. might go further south, might stay a day or two.. and then she’d come back. Or she wouldn’t. Either way, Deacon’s job was done. He’d learned a few useless facts about the girl with the pip-boy. But he was coming to the conclusion it didn’t really matter what her motivation was, she really was trying to do good things. And for now that was enough. He figured she’d be back in a week, maybe two, then he’d get a full report.

Deacon cut northwest across the marsh, away from Mercer, heading for the charter school what lay sinking into the swamp near by.

———————–

Silvia woke early the next morning, before the sun was up. She grabbed a couple of mutfruit off the kitchen counter, waved to a half asleep Ben, then grabbed her bag and started the process of repairing the damaged torso of her power armor. She had to remove all the plating from the back and sides first, and was re-welding the metal into place at the workstation inside the garage when her newest friend, the swarny brendle with the mighty bark, trotted over with chunk of something dark blue in her mouth.

Silvia set down the plating she was sanding and kneeled to the dog, scratching it’s dangling ears roughly and speaking in a childish tone. “You find something, Floppy? Hand it here.” She held her hand to the dog’s mouth and gave the blue chunk a little tug. She didn’t resist. Silvia stood and looked at the round thing in her hand with a growing smile. She looked around the settlement, wondering where the dog could have found a real tennis ball. ’Hun… When the universe wants your dog to have a toy, she provides.’

Silvia stopped in her armor repair to toss the ball out into the swamp a few times. The dog was a natural.. and it made Silvia regret keeping her. Someone was probably missing her. She’d have to go back through the area on the way home. Til then she’d take good care of the dog. She hoped.

Floppy chased after the ball a few times, catching it mid air if it happened to bounce on something. Damn, Floppy Dog could jump. She really was built for it, lean long legs, skinny and streamlined. She remembered the greyhound races her dad took her too when she was little. Mom would dress her and her older brother up in church clothes and dad would carry her in his arms, on the way to the seats. She loved the names. 'Magnet Man’ and 'Seven Ways to Sunday’ 'Rex the Begger’. Never saw one this color, but it could be a greyhound if those things existed anymore. After a dozen throws or so, and a belly rub in there, and lots and lots of happy sounds for Black Bear, Floopy went running off to catch a mole rat she’d spotted mid fetch. Silvia went to find the ball and watched her chase the rat off with her loud barking.

By this time Ben was awake and eating, the settlement was starting to stir, and Silvia had the light she needed to finish her repairs. They’d be on the road again in a couple hours. Silvia was looking forward to the change in scenery and itching to start moving again, so she let the dog have fun with her rad rats and went back to finish repairing her armor while the settlement started it’s day.

Chapter Text

Deacon got word of his heavy 13 days later. She was traveling up the coat at a leisurely pace and he was sure she was heading for the Atom Cats garage. He set out from Railroad HQ and beat her to it. Which was great for him, he loved the Atom Cats. Easy to get information out of and pretty mellow. It was like taking a weekend off work to.. work.

Lewis, the identity he used most around the Cats, was drinking a few beers with the crew while Silvia took her time walking up the coat. He had knocked a couple back and was fairly relaxed, which wasn’t easy round most people. But the Atom Cats lived up to their hype, some of the coolest people in the Commonwealth. And most of them had done work for the Railroad at some point. They got it; People just wanna live their lives, man.

Some time after the birds started to quiet down and the sky was lit up red and gold out past the skyline of Boston, Black Bear came stomping into the glow of the Atam Cat’s base of operations, a deep bark accompanying her. Most of the crew and their guests were lounging around the garage-turned-dining hall. Bluejay went out to greet the power suit none of them (except Deacon) had expected.

While Roxy recited her observations on the mirelurks gathering fish at the ocean’s edge and how it compared to a baby feeding from its mother’s breast, Silvia was unloading her gear and climbing out of her power armor in the front garage, the light clank clank of metal on cement ringing through the junkyard as she unloaded. The dog was quiet, and Deacon figured it was right there with her, watching as it had been since she’d found the mut.

Bluejay came back wordlessly some time later. He nodded to Zeke and went back to admire Roxy who spoke with great passion about toxic nipples.

Half an hour later Silvia crept into the darkened room and grabbed a beer, taking a couch near the back. No one saw her enter, no one noticed her clapping along with the group as Johnny D. started reciting a lyrum about flying in a power suit.

Floppy Dog stayed with her for a few minutes, laying on the floor in front of her with her little paws crossed in front of her like a proper lady. She waited til Silvia scratched her head and rubbed her ears, then stood and went sniffing around the room, hoovering up missed scraps of jerky and bread and crab meat.

When Zeke noticed her at last, as he stood from his couch for a beer, he gave her a big grin and a wave and made his way to the back of the room to sit with her. They chated for quite a while, Silvia smiling, Zeke laughing. Deacon was listening.. but really all they had to say was related to machines and poetry.

At last Roxy got sick of the muffled chatter from the back of the room and yelled across the garage-turned-diner. “Daddy-O! Ya gonna make the lady join in? She seems to want to talk!” there was a good natured smile on the greaser girls red lips. The little gathering of Power Armor junkies and their closest friends started snapping, quiet at first, then louder and louder.

Silvia’s face had turned bright red.. she rubbed her burning cheeks with a beer-cooled hand and laughed light-heartedly. Despite her typical quite, timid nature around people, she was coaxed into standing. The whole room turned to her. It was poetry night, so there was a guy or a gal on every Cat’s arm and a few, like ‘Lewis’ who came stag. With a couple dozen eyes on her, she clinched one fist and opened her mouth… stopped.. opened it again.. then sighed. There was laughter near the bar and Zeke gave Silvia a nudge. “Come on pussycat, you got somethin’ special hidin’ deep down in there, just let it out!”

“gas” it was muttered somewhere in the room and there was laughter again, scattered amongst the snapping.

Silvia laughed. Deacon was grinning. She was out of her element here. All eyes on her and not a gun in sight. She thought for a moment before coming up with something, and after a stuttered start, she managed to get the words out fairly clearly. The snapping faded down so she could speak, since she was far too quiet for the crowded room, and even Floppy stopped sniffing at the floor behind the bar to watch Silvia make noise.

“What a funny bird… No..” She sighed and recovered.

“What a funny little bird a frog are”
“Him ain’t got a tail at all, most hardly.”

A little smile spread across her lips and the words flowed easier.

“When him sits, him squats”
“When him walks, him hops”

There was a little laugh in the room and Silvia was fully smiling

“And when him don’t walk”
“Him sit on his funny little tail”

She pouted a little.

“Which him ain’t got at all, most hardly.”

There was laughter and encouragement, and Zeke gave Silvia a pat on the back from his spot on the couch, which she flinched from. Deacon noticed, but wasn’t sure if anyone else had. Silvia sunk back into the couch, Floppy bounced across the room and climbed up to wedge herself between Sil and the arm of the couch, and someone passed a bottle of dark buttery liquid to the back of the room. It didn’t leave Silvia’s shaking hand the rest of the night.

————————————-

The next morning Sil stirred from the couch she’d fallen asleep sitting up on. She finished off the sweet liquid she’d been given the night before, just to clear the taste of sleep out of her mouth. There were a couple of sleepers in the room on couches and a lady on a mattress near the bar. Floppy wasn’t sleeping anymore, but stayed stretched out on the couch beside Silvia’s hip.

It was a dreamless sleep… she wondered what was in the bottle, and considered asking for more. A little stretching to wake up stiff muscles, a few minutes scratching the dog’s ears and whispering happy sounds to her, then both got up and quietly crossed the sleeping scrapyard to the garage out front.

Silvia’s armor was hooked up to one of the stations in the back, her gear laid out beside it. She’d planned to work on it, but turned out Bluejay had been wanting to tweak the armor for a while, and claimed dibs on the repair job as long as he got free reign with the mobs. And Silvia agreed, because it it’s a freaking honor letting an Atom Cat to work on your ride.

So the armor was ignored and Sil grabbed some clean rags and a bar of soap and stuffed them into the back pocket of her cargo pants. Then she grabbed the blue tennis ball out of an outside pocket of her bag. Floppy’s tail was swinging as soon as she saw the ball, and Silvia perked up at the chance to toss it around for the dog. Silvia opened another pocket and produced a dose of Rad-X for the dog. She’d had to give the dog one dose and it seemed she’d had them before. She didn’t flinch when Silvia gave her a quarter dose, enough to keep her safe in the water. Silvia put the cap on and grabbed a knife from her belt to give the end of the plunger an X she could see later. Floppy was trying to grab the ball away before Silvia could return the rad-x to its pocket.

They headed out for the beach, leaving the camp to sleep. Silvia stopped out back at the faucet and gave herself a quick scrub with the rag, face and neck and forearms, just to get the grime off her. Floppy watched restlessly, her body crouched against the dirt, chin on her crossed paws and the biggest black eyes looking up at Silvia.

Second biggest black eyes.

She felt much better with a clean face and cool skin. Her hair was down and she’d taken her fingers to it, raking out the worst of the twists. There was no telling where her cap was at this point. She grabbed a bottle of water on the way out and headed for the beach with a wave of her hand to get the dog moving.

Floppy was a jumper. She’d go chasing after a thrown ball and wait til it bounced then fly from sand to air to catch the ball at the highest point. She had lots of space along the beach, so much sand, the dog splashing in the little waves that sprung up on the shore happily. Silvia headed slowly south til Floppy finally brought the blue ball back and dropped, belly first, into the sand. She was warn out. Silvia could use a rest, too. So the pair sat in the sand facing the ocean, Silvia picking at shells between her outstretched legs and Floppy Dog slobbering on her favorite toy beside her. They let the silence stretched on til the sun was bright in the sky and the first signs of life could be heard up the coast. Bluejay was probably working on the armor, Zeke was making something to eat.. Maybe eggs. Silvia didn’t want to move yet. She snuck the ball away from the tiger striped dog and tossed it down the beach. There was a storm of sand as Floppy Dog darted after the ball happily.

“That’s a beautiful animal.”

The voice startled her. Silvia whipped her head around, long blue-black strands fell around her face and she stared up at the man who’d spoke, as if he were a deathclaw who’d gotten the slip on her. He’d come up on her left, from the scrap yard, and Silvia’s right hand was on that knife she kept in her boot. It let go when she recognized him as one of the faces from the Cat’s poetry club. Silvia calmed just a little.

“Thanks” She smiled weakly then looked for Floppy who had stopped in her return to stick her nose in a bucket not far down the beach.

“I’m sorry to ask.. Do you have a Geiger Counter?”

This time she looked back and took a moment to study his face. Dirty Blond hair slicked against his scalp and a pair of rose colored thick rim glasses. He was very clean shaven and wore a tight fitting white t-shirt with a leather vest over it, and some of the tightest jeans she’d ever seen on a man. After a beat she replied.

“Mine’s in the shop, sorry.” and went back to watching Floppy, who was finished with his exploration and coming back for another throw.

The man dropped into the sand beside her, his knees bent a little and arms hanging over them, his rose-glass colored eyes watching the dog. “How was New Bedford, Black Bear?”

“Not bad, really. More bears, less super mutants. A lot more farmland.. A lot more alcohol. How’ve things been here?”

“Quite. Glory has a new guy working with her, he’s ex security for some guy named Lerinzo.. Real tough ass.”

“Edward?”

“You know him?” Deacon watched the ball fly again, into the water this time, and Floppy went racing after it, splashing up surf as she hunted for the ball.

“Yeah.. worked for one guy a long time.. not sure why he was so loyal, but he was. Kind of a hardass though. Huh… He’ll get along with Glory fine.”

“Well that’s reassuring, the guy is hard to read.”

“It’s the lack of lips.. and eyebrows. I know” She cracked a little smile.

Deacon laughed. “Good point. Speaking of Ghouls, wanna take a trip with me to Goodneighbor?”

Silvia had thrown the ball twice in their conversation thus far and was watching Floppy return for another throw. She didn’t look back at her superior, and didn’t say anything for a moment.

Deacon leaned back on the sand, trying to be patient, watching the waves come in.

“I guess if you need help.. but I’d love to know what you’re planning first.”

Deacon looked at the side of Silvia’s head, trying to read her voice. She was much more cautious around him then he liked.. The time together would be good for both of them. “I’m planning on getting a debrief from you and a traveling companion.”

“And?”

“And?” Deacon raised a brow under his rosey glasses.

“And why do you need to go to Goodneighbor.. cause I’m gonna be part of it if I’m going with you, that’s a given.”

“And.. I want you to help me convince Rooster to give us access to his tunnels.. so we can stick a hub under Goodneighbor.”

“So you want me to help you talk Ha… Rooster into putting his city in danger for the Railroad?” Silvia threw the ball again and turned her head to look at Deacon. Her hair was still hanging down around her neck.. it’d grown a little in the last couple of weeks and he hoped she didn’t cut it.. Made him jealous as hell he couldn’t keep his long.

“No, no, I don’t want you to convince him of anything.. Just make the trip with me so we can talk about your delivery.” His hands went up and waved the idea away.

“You and I both know that’s not true. I’m not sure what you think I’ve got over him, but he’s not gonna be swayed by me.”

“You and I both know that’s not true.” Deacon gave Silvia a serious look, even with the glasses on, and Silvia’s nose wrinkled in annoyance.

“If you want to talk him into turning Goodneighbor into a Synth Pitstop, you’re gonna have to give him cold hard caps and remind him he’s helping someone live free every time he helps a synth.. that might get em’.” Hancock’s pride in his town and it’s moto had become obvious at some point, and she smiled every time she thought about it. The smile faded a little and she looked at Deacon, serious once more. “But if you want Rooster to roll over, do your own dirty work. I hate politics.”

Deacon was quite a moment, then wiped his hands clean of sand and started to raise to his feet. “Well at least make the trip with me. I’d love the company. You can go your own way once we get there.”

Silvia watched him stand. Floppy had returned and was laying in the sand beside her person’s leg. She’d rolled to her side and her ears were hanging out over the sand, her mouth open with sand on her tongue. She was warn out.. it wouldn’t last.

“Alright, might as well, same direction.” She wasn’t very enthusiastic.

Deacon had a feeling she was playing it down, but honestly couldn’t be sure. Once again he’d gained nothing. Maybe the next day or two would shed some light on the mystery of Black Bear.

“By the way, what’s her name?” Deacon walked around behind Silvia and kneeled down to hold a hand out to the dog. She sniffed it, then stuck her snout under Silvia’s arm to hide her face. Deacon laughed. “They say brendles are really smart.”

“It’s.. Ohh that’s what it’s called.”

“Brendle?”

“Yeah. I lost the word, thanks for finding it” She smiled at him over her shoulder and moved her arm so Floppy was uncovered. “I’m just calling her Floppy Dog. She’s very, very floppy. And smart. Might understand people talk. Ben wondered if maybe she was a synth dog.. She kept sniffing out the three guys at Mercer I knew were synths. And another guy I didn’t know.. Might have been, too.

"That’s… huh. A synth dog. I’ve never heard of such a thing. I wonder…”

“Deacon, you are not dissecting my dog.”

“What? No! I’d never hurt your cute wittle fwuffy puppydog!” Deacon reached down and scrubbed at the hound’s ears, making cute noises and kissy faces. The need to play with her floppy ears seemed to overcome everyone who got close to her. Silvia couldn’t help but laugh “Even if she is a filthy synth!” Deacon mumbled in baby talk. Sil laughed again and the dog started licking his face.. but quickly scurried to Silvia’s other side when Deacon started with the kissy noises again.

———————–

They left a couple of hours later. Well fed bellies all around and a lighter load to haul; Bluebird had asked to keep the power armor for a few days. He needed to get a feel for it’s potential or something. Silvia didn’t complain; The armor had been very useful, but she was so much more comfortable without it. She was glad to have her freedom of movement back. Silvia pulled her carryall over her shoulders. It was so much heavier now without her armor to support her. The bag was packed to overflowing with bobs and trinkets and supplies. And presents it seemed. Roxy got a small box of holos for the jukebox and Zeke got a stack of auto magazines. He hugged her tight in thanks and she was in a great mood when her and Deacon finally headed for the city, Floppy Dog on her mistress’s heels.

Silvia wasn’t a talker, wasn’t an open and outgoing person. She liked keeping to herself, keeping her thoughts in her head, and prying them out wouldn’t be easy for Deacon.

“How many packages have you delivered now, Black Bear?” He looked back at the woman and her dog. They had an hour before they reached the city, it was still cool and Silvia’s hair was loose and her collar was open. She had her rifle to her arm, as always, an eye on the horizon at all times.

Deacon was more easy going, he stepped lightly and didn’t watch where he was going, as far as Silvia could tell. The glasses made it hard to be sure. She was keeping pace with him easily enough, and didn’t have to talk too loud to reach him.

“I think Ben was… seventeen? Sixteen. Something like that. Not enough.

"It’s a dint, can’t ask for more. Ben, huh?”

“Yeah, he got it from Rooster.. Told him about Ben Franklin.. all men created equal and all that jive. The mayor can sell a story, I’ll give him that.”

“So he’s calling himself Ben Franklin?” Deacon looked back at Silvia with a raised brow she could barely see over the glasses.

She laughed, it made Dean smile to hear her relax, even a little. “No, not Franklin. He picked a good last name though. He cut his hair short when we hit Plymouth. Said it was just getting too hot for him.”

“And the guy he was going to meet.. you find him?”

“Yeah. New Bedford. The place is nice. They’ve got walls and a standing militia. And the science officer he was meeting seemed capable of protecting both of them. Wouldn’t give me anything though. Not even his name. But Ben trusted him.”

“You get anything on the other offshore base?”

She let out a defeated sound “There’s three more out there” She swept a hand towards the coast “He gave me everything he had about the one he knew of.. the one he’d been to. But the other 2 are unknowns.”

“Damn.. Well just.. damn. We’re gonna need a boat, huh?”

She laughed weakly and nodded. “Hah.. what we need is a submarine, but I don’t think we’re gonna find one.” He had fallen back a little to walk beside her as they talked and he could see she’d relaxed, her smile was easy and her hand wasn’t so tight on her weapon. “And there are a thousand wrecks off the coast. Anything could be an entrance. We might not be able to tackle this one.”

“Oh come on, I know how to swim and we can fit your powersuit with a rebreather. It’ll be like digging up pirate treasure.”

“And this is what you want to do with the rest of your life? Soaking up all those rads.. ” She glances over, still a-smilin’. “We might grow fins if we stay in the water long enough.”

“And gills! We’d be human Mirelurks after a few years of searching. Sucking on titties on the beach.”

Silvia’s smile cracked into a laugh and she nodded “Someone in flying power armor will come along and crush us.”

Deacon nodded. “And then Roxy can write poetry about us when we’re dead.”

She laughed and shook her head “Oh please no. If I’m gonna get immortalized in words, I want Magnolia to write something.” She nodded at the thought.

“Secret agents and super spies and mysterious rendezvous?” He asked, smiling.

“You really get into the spy thing, don’t you?” She glanced over to him.

“The whole nine yards; gadgets, costumes and a new face every couple years.”

“You get.. surgury?” Her brows furrowed trying to understand and he laughed at the look.

“Facial reconstruction. New nose, new jaw, new forehead. A few years back I was 6 inches taller and black” He shrugged and Silvia’s look didn’t change. He was straight faced though, and after a moment Silvia decided not to question it.

“Ever been a woman?” She asked hesitantly, half serious half mockingly.

He gave her a very hard look and she was sure she’d said something to insult him. “Are you asking if I’ve ever had my balls removed?”

She couldn’t help laughing, a soft sound, much like her voice, too quiet.

He let the smile creep across his face. “I’ve put on a few dresses in my life. Never the kind that require heels. Never found a pair in my size. What about you? Ever dressed like a woman?”

She blushed slightly, the color was not overlooked. “Once or twice. A long time ago.”

“Why? You make an ugly woman? Welcome to the club.” He reached out and brushed some of the hair from her brow.. and she flinched. Huh… She seemed to do that with most people and the curiosity was killing him.

“Just seeing if it was real.” He grinned and she could tell his eyes were crinkled behind the glasses, the corners scrunched up and the lines were easy to see.

“It’s all real. But skirts are a big no-no in a gunfight.” She shrugged, her pack shifting heavily on her back. “I haven’t worn one since I picked up a gun.” She said matter-of-factly.

He wasn’t about to drop it though, the conversation was moving and she was talking about her past, he took the opening. “How long’s that been?” He asked, looking at the ground to avoid a puddle of something greasy that reflected swirls of colors, giving it far more attention than it merited. She wasn’t quick with her answer.

“Few years.. a lifetime.. I don’t even know anymore. Time’s just kinda jumbled these days.” She shrugged and he gave her a serious look.

“You seem born to it.. this.. all this. I’d have figured you for a lifer.”

“Do I?” She didn’t raise her head.

“You tell me, friend.” It was a challenge, he looked away and waited for her reply. She pulled her rifle up to her shoulder and lowered just a little. There wasn’t going to be an answer.

The city was upon them, they’d pass the first small building at Boston’s edge any moment. The quiet was good, anything could be creeping within the city, there was so much cover, so many hiding places. Silvia took point. He wasn’t expecting her to pull ahead, but let her go, taking the back and covering her as she crept forward under the cover of a building to get the lay of the land.

Her rifle was a piece of work. She had two, but this one with the video scope and motion targeting.. If there was anything out there, Silvia was sure she’d find it.

She caught a few raiders to the east, much further out then she wanted to bother with. they’d go northwest down the back allies.. she wanted to avoid the tower if she could. So Silvia backed up some and pointed north “raiders, but ahead looks good. Ready for this?”

Deacon gave her a solid nod, simi-auto on his shoulder and a silenced hand-gun in his hands. She suppressed a smile.. he did look kinda like a spy.

They passed the raiders easily enough, but coming around a corner two blocks north they ran face-first into feral dogs. Silvia kneeled and let out a volly of silenced rifle-fire before the dogs noticed them. One dog hit the dirt in a spray of blood as Deacon snapped off a couple of shots at the further target, missing both.

The dog’s rushed in and Floppy, who’d been calmly following along behind them, jumped out in front of her mistress. Silvia cursed and dropped her rifle. It took some maneuvering for her to get her sword out of the space between her pack and shoulders. By the time she was ready to take on the irradiated beast that’d launched itself at her, the sword was free. It arched down and sliced the mut from shoulder to ribs and the beast fell, heaving it’s body up once before dropping, lifeless.

Floppy had rushed in, snapping and growling. She circled the feral dog a few times, nipping it’s hind legs til it fell and Floppy was able to pen her target to the ground. She riped at it’s neck with mighty teeth til at least there was no more movement from the ground and Floppy let go. She was dripping blood from her paws and mouth as she rushed into the roadway and the human carcass the dogs had been gnawing at. The hound sniffed around the area as Silvia watched.. then came back, calm. Silvia smiled, looking at the dog.

“You teach her that?”

“Nope.. someone did. And one of these days I hope I get to thank them.”

“Hope you’re not planning on giving her back.”

“Hell no”

Silvia grabbed up her gun, threw it over her shoulder and slid her sword into the space between her shoulders and pack, then headed down the open road they’d just cleared, Deacon beside her and the dog sniffing around. When she found an old skeleton in the ditch she grabbed it’s shirt, which tore apart in her hands, and used the scraps to wipe the blood off her dog.

The trip was easy after that. Floppy took point, and she was on high alert. She sniffed out another pack of dogs and dispatched with two of them herself, Deacon removing the last target. Silvia wasn’t comfortable with the guns in close with the dog, but announced she’d figure it out when there was time. Not that he’d said anything.

When they got closer to Goodneighbor Floppy Dog found a band of scavvers hanging out in a book store. They came in expecting a fight, but there was no growl from the dog, so they waited and were greeted with bottles of water and lots of attention for the dog, who red stained and caked with grime. Deacon was sure this effect followed Silvia everywhere she went.

It was some time after noon when they finally reached the gates of Goodneighbor.

Chapter Text

The first thing to greet her on passing the gates of Goodneighbor was the smell of meat. Someone was cooking a lot of it and very close by. Silvia hiked her pack up a little more as Floppy Dog ran past her. Fahrenheit was leaning against the wall beside the door to the old State House, a cigarette in her mouth and a cloth in her hand. She was polishing something small, but took the time to lift her head and acknowledge Silvia as she walked through. She didn’t look behind for Deacon, and on checking, Silvia found there was no one following her. Always the spy, always the sneak.

Fahrenheit was focused on her cloth again and Silvia seemed a little lost. Something was wrong, but.. it escaped her. Goodneighbor had changed some how. Not just the smell; Normally it was piss and sulfur, not barbeque. She was still struggling to figure it out when she heard a loud whistle from her right and saw Daisy leaning out her open door, waving a mangled hand. The ghoul had on a nice blue pantsuit and sensible shoes and her hair cut close, and Silvia often thought she might have been a teacher before the war. Silvia shrugged off her bag and leaned it up beside the open doorway as she followed Daisy inside. The old ghoul was listening to Diamond City Radio and reading a burnt magazine before spotting Silvia come through the gates. Her cigarette was still sitting on the counter next to a glass of something icy.

“Slow day?”

“Hell no, just managed to get a break! This place has been like a bus stop on sunday all week.”

As Silvia perched on a folding chair beside the counter and Daisy went back to her stool, Floppy Dog came waggling her butt into the shop. She stopped beside Silvia and looked up at Daisy with those great big brown eyes and forward falling ears and there was a shrill shriek of joy from the old Ghoul.

Daisy didn’t bother with introductions, she grabbed the pup’s face with both scarred hands and squished at the dog’s cheeks and wiggled her ears with gnarled thumbs. Floppy’s tongue hang out happily and the end of her tail was wagging like it did when she was too excited to be scared. “And you are the cutest face I’ve seen yet!” She kissed the dog’s nose and looked at Silvia, her thin lips pulled into a bright smile. “She’s adorable. Where did you find her!?” She crackled.

“Pulled her out of a cage in a supermutant camp. She decided to keep me.” There was a proud, motherly smile on Silvia’s face as she watched the dog and the old woman, happy that they got along so well.

“Well if you’re keeping her she’s gonna need a collar.” Daisy was standing again and had skirted past Silvia to reach one of the shelves on the back wall. “And I think.. Maybe… I’ve got a doggy ammo vest in here somewhere.”

“A what? Haha. Got a puppy tutu hiding in there?”

“I might! Back before the war I had three yorkie show dogs.. blue ribbon winners.”

“You mean the little dogs with the long hair? That you gotta put bows in their bangs to keep them out of their eyes?” Silvia had shifted around to watch her friend hunt.

Daisy laughed “Right! They had little hats and booties..” She stopped in her digging.. sighed and went back to the task.

“I put doll dresses on my cat when I was little.” Silvia offered “I’d put her in my baby stroller wrapped up in a baby doll clothes with a bonnet on her head. Poor thing put up with so much abuse.” She was smiling at the memory of pictures… that she’d never see again.

“I think all women like dressing up cute things. Best reason to have kids.” Daisy kneeled down to reached into the back of an open drawer.

Silvia’s smile wavered and she leaned down to rub Floppy’s ears, hiding her face in the hair that fell from behind her ear. “A dog is good enough right now.” She said with a bit less humor. If Daisy noticed she didn’t show it. “Lot more handy than a stroller, right pretty girl?” The dog just lulled her tongue out and looked at Silvia, eyes half closed.

“Here we go. Not really an ammo vest.. Here, see if you can make sense of this.” Daisy handed the collar and cloth bundle to Sil and went back to her stool just in time for a group of three men to come in looking to trade. Sil kept an eye on them while fiddling with the collar. They seemed in a good mood, a little drunk, and didn’t cause any problems. Something was off about them though. Something had been off since she walked in the front gates.

As the men left, laughing about a nudie magazine they’d bought as a joke for someone, Silvia slid off her chair to put the collar and vest on her dog. The collar was a long-faded black leather strip, about as wide as her thumb. More grey than black, it stuck out against the oranges and golds and deep blacks on Floppy Dog’s coat. The cloth bundle ended up being a cargo vest, there was a handle down the middle of the back and two pouches on each side. Once Silvia figured out what it was she was nearly giddy. Floppy was sniffing the vest on her sides when Daisy finished her sales and looked down.

“Perfect! She can carry her own dog snacks!”

Silvia laughed. “I’ll add that to my grocery list. Hell, I’m gonna have to bulk her up if she’s gonna carry stuff around like that. Commer dog.. You can have them back later. I wanna see if we can get some of that mud off you first” It wasn’t mud, but caked into it was enough dirt and grime that it was hard to tell. Silvia removed the vest and went to her pack by the door. She dug around for her caps bag, replaced it with the vest and went back to the counter.

“I’ll come by later for some serious trade.. Need to just.. stop moving for a few minutes.” Silvia had tilted the bag out and offered up 30 caps for the collar and vest, which Daisy accepted without question.

“That’s just fine hunny! Get some food, too, you’re too thin!”

“Liar.. but speaking of.. who’s having a cookout?” She stuffed her bag of caps in her shirt.

“Hancock.”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, had some guys hunt down a couple of Radstag, had food sent in on caravan. I spent a whole night showing his girls how to make Potato Salad and baked silt beans. Not as good as the old days, but better then the radioactive trash most of Goodneighbor survives on, that’s for sure. Damn if he ain’t trying. Word got out that he was feeding people for labor, some ghouls from the Slog came in and donated enough Tarberrys to turn this whole town into a tart. Lotta melons too. Then we got a handful of Minutemen who’d been patrolling through and smelled the food. And that was 4 days ago. They must have spread the word; People just keep coming. Stuff keeps getting done. Goodneighbor got so busy.

Silvia stepped back outside at those words and looked around. Most of the trash was missing. The cans and broken glass and wadded up paper. The needles and used condoms and animal bones. It was all gone. The areas that had been the worst still looked wet and stained, wood piled against buildings in uneven stacks, bricks in heaps in corners. There were still shacks in the margins and broken windows, but dumpsters had been wheeled into place and were being used, and there was a man in a blue overcoat with a push broom sweeping up the entrance, where the outside had been dragged in by travelers.

"What the hell happened..”

“Huh?” Daisy stood behind her counter, trying to hear Silvia’s whispering voice.

“I’ve never… I haven’t seen it like this before.”

“Neither have I!” The old ghoul laughed and dropped back onto her stool. A pair of women rounded the corner, laughing and obviously a little intoxicated, heading for Daisy’s Discounts. Daisy waved Sil off. “Go settle in, I’ll talk to you later, dear.”

Silvia grabbed her bag and tossed it over her shoulder, then patted her hip to get Floppy’s attention, taking a quick glance at the screen of her Pip-Boy to check the time “See ya, Miss Daisy”

Down the alleyway and around the corner was much of the same. It was far from spotless, but she could see the streets. There was a ghoul that she recognized from somewhere other than Goodneighbor hammering a length of wood to the back of a bench. The one beside it had been repaired already. She was trying to remember where she stored all that paint she found near Diamond City when she rounded the corner beside the Third Rail and found a mass of people, chairs and tables. There were dozens of men and women, ghouls and humans, gathered around a big pit with a ragstag roasting over it. Well this looked familiar, but the laughing faces and pleasant smell wiped the memory of Super Mutants away and left Silvia grinning from ear to ear at what she saw. It wasn’t near finished, the place would need so much work.. but to see even a little bit of cleaning and repairs done in Goodneighbor light her up. She wanted to hunt down Hancock right that second. But as she turned to the Statehouse.. she stopped. He could wait til she got out of her sweaty clothes.. wait til her hair was brushed.. she didn’t want to go see him smelling like the wastes… She convinced herself that cleaning up first was going to make him wait and she was being selfish as she headed for the Roxford, waving back to a few known and unknown faces as she passed the group.

The hotel was a bit cleaner, too. There was a newer looking couch in the lobby and a man hauling a bucket around, scooping up recently-gathered piles of rubbish around the bathrooms. There were people coming and going, and Silvia wondered if there was enough room. Before she even got the chance to ask the woman behind the desk raised her scratchy voice. “No rooms left. All full.”

“Wh… Well can I use your bathroom for half an hour at least?” Silvia poured out a handful of caps and scooted them across the counter.

“Hmmph.. Yeah, sure. Don’t use all the hot water.. And don’t leave a mess.. hey are you taking that with you?” She pointed a crooked finger at the dog standing near Sil. “It better not bite anybody.”

“She won’t. Relax.” Silvia gave her a forced smile and headed for the second floor bathroom.

———————

Twenty minutes later Silvia left the Rexford.She had her oversized backpack on her back and a clean Floppy Dog followed her out into the street. Still tired, of course; That feeling never truly left, but her hair was brushed and her face was clean and she’d strapped her armor pieces to her backpack so her clothes could air out. It wasn’t dark just yet, she might just head on to HQ and check in. The crowd wasn’t her thing, and the noise was a little unnerving. Of course it wouldn’t last. Sooner or later they’d file out, find their own corners and drift off into drug-induced sleep. Goodneighbor hadn’t changed that much.

Diana, the young woman who liked to hang on Hancock’s coat-tails, she was dishing out plates of green lumpy mash to a young man while an old ghoul sat at a great big pot behind the bowl-lined counter. They must be turning the last of the ragstag into stew. It smelled amazing and she drifted over to the young woman as another bowl was scooped out of the pot. “Here ya go. Eat up, and maybe when you’re done you can find some way to help us clean up Goodneighbor.” The blond spoke sweetly.

She took the bowl and nodded, “Oh sure, I’ll find something. Thank you.” and didn’t bother to force the smile as she walked away to a bench, far from the food station, and dropped her bag. Silvia picked out the biggest chunks of meat for Floppy Dog then slurped at the warm strew happily, remembering what real beef stew tasted like.. and deciding if she could replicate it some day or not.

With any luck her trip south meant a better diet. Sivia missed cooking big meals with lots of spices.

The stew needed cornbread.

Silvia sat in thought, enjoying the food when Floppy started, turned and looked with interest to the Third Rail. A fellow gave her a little wave; Slicked back black hair, jeans and a tight near-white t-shirt. She knew the character. Deacon stuffed his hands in his pocket and rounded the corner, heading for the State House.

She really didn’t want to follow him.. but it was better than staying out here… and maybe Hancock would let her crash on.. Nope. Not going to ask. It’d be easier to just hike to HQ after dark.

After a few minutes of eating her food she went to drop the bowl in the bucket out by the food station and automatically headed into the State House, Floppy Dog on her heels. There was no changing how this would go. He’d asked her to be there, and she’d be there for that reason and no other. Couldn’t let him know that though.

—————————-

She listened to the two men argue for an hour. The longest hour of her life. The ideas from both of them were amazing, and some of them would work! Tunnels into one of the warehouses, a linking tunnel to the memory den. Then Deacon suggested putting up ‘Synths Welcome’ signs, right along side the 'Ghouls Welcome’ signs. Hancock wasn’t ready for that change, saying the institute was too much risk, and Deacon was suggesting a 'don’t ask don’t tell’ policy that seemed like something she’d read about in a history book once. The best idea was simply letting the synths in, and if anyone started to argue, Hancock could give a rousing speech about freedom and equality and remind everyone what happened to Diamond City when the mayor banned Ghouls. Wonderful idea… and the perfect place to execute it. But they weren’t satisfied with anything.

At last she was sick of it and stepped into the foyer. She stood by the window for a while and watched the party going on in the street below. Floppy Dog laid at her feet, big black eyes closed and chin resting on crossed paws. The cleaning crew had come back and was eating and passing around a joint, the ghoul repairing the bench was eating a big plate of good food and a couple of guards were off to the side, flirting with the girls who took care of the drinks.

Half an hour passed and Silvia was feeling worse then ever. She’d have to ask Hancock for a mattress to crash on if they ever finished discussing terms. Silvia was surprised to hear the doors open and Deacon gave her a wave as he rushed down the stairs and vanished. Silvia stood at the railing, watching him leave. Hancock had come out behind him and leaned on the rail as well. “That right there is a man who knows how to bullshit.”

Silvia laughed and looked left to the ghoul leaning beside her. “I’m aware. Did he talk you into his little plan?” She leaned on the rail as well, looking down into the lower level. The door was cracked for a moment after Deacon left and the smell of food drifted in with the evening breeze.

“We haven’t agreed on anything yet. I was kind of wanting your opinion on the whole thing before deciding.”

“I’m sure you can make a simple mayoral decision without my help.”

“Look, I know you don’t like getting involved in all this policy crap, I get that.. but I still wanna know what you think. Can it be done.. should it..”

“Honest truth?”

“I hope that’s all you’d ever give me.”

She smiled a little and shrugged. “I think you’ve got the perfect set-up.. It’ll take some.. no.. a lot of work, but yeah, it’s more than doable, it’s freaking brilliant. This is like.. the birthplace of freedom. If it’d work anywhere, it’d work here. You’d be an idiot not to take him up on it.”

He breathed out a short laugh, his dark eyes drifted to view her face, arms crossed on the rail. “Hah.. Figures you’d be on his side.”

“I’m not on his side, or yours.” She shrugged.

“You’re on the hero’s side.. I know. You just want to save people.” He hadn’t taken his eyes off her profile, and she was acutely aware of his dark gaze. Her hair had come loose from behind her ear and Hancock was gripping the banister to keep himself from tucking it back into place. He could just see her water grey eyes peered into the spiral of stairs spinning downward. She was so beautiful like this, he thought.. Like a drug induced hallucination manifest, statue-like and close enough to touch.

She sighed at last and looked at him, concern on her brow. “Yeah. Sounds corny as hell.. but yeah. There are people that need that kinda protection.. I’m on the side of whoever’s gonna give it to them.” Her words faded away as she realized he was staring at her. His thin lips had pulled into an amused grin.

“You really are somethin’ else…” He said the words softly, endearment written across his face.

“Damn right.” She nodded playfully, her cheeks a bit red. She had to turn her head away again before his gaze overwhelmed her.

The double doors to their right clicked shut, startling her, and she looked back to see one of Hancock’s guards nodding to the Mayor. The ghoul reached out a scarred hand and touched her fingers as they rest on the rail, pulling her attention back to him. “Didn’t you say the Rex was full?”

“Oh.. Did I? Um, Yeah, no room at the inn.” She shrugged. “I’ll figure something out.”

Oily black eyes narrowed. The realization had hit him that she didn’t want to ask him for.. anything. All the shit she’d done for him, for his town, all the favors and all the rewards she’d rejected and she didn’t want to ask him for a mat on his attic floor. He wanted to kiss her then and there and hold her still so nothing could pull her away from him. He gripped her hand gently in his, pulling it from the railing.

“Attic is full, but I’ve got a place you can sleep.” He moved past her, giving her hand a soft tug. She laughed as she was spun around, her face went hot and she follow his pull towards the double doors opposite his study.

His hand touched the doorknob and she started to feel dizzy. Deja vu and nausea all rolled into one. The unexplainable need to run reared up inside her. Her hand slid out of his before he could open the door. He looked back, confused.. then laughed. “Relax, doll. My room is in the basement. There is nothing scary behind this door at all.. Promise.”

When he let her see this little glimpse of the man under the monster she had a hard time denying her own desire to trust him. Logic went right out the window when he smiled his lopsided smile and his big black eyes crinkled at the corners just the right way. She did hesitate. He was oddly patient, ignoring the guards, ignoring the clack of doors and people entered and leaving the state house. Just waiting. She stepped forward and he pushed the doors open to lead her into the room.

Floppy slipped in through their legs and went trotting through the double doors and into the room, sniffing around on her own. Hancock reached back and grabbed Silvia by the hand again, tugging gently so he could close the doors behind her. She always flinched at his touch… any touch, but he held tight.

“Ya see..” He started as he moved aside so she could see into the room. “You just keep givin’ and givin’. After all the good you’ve done, the people here you’ve helped.. Well I got a debt to pay, doll. I gotta give something back. You’re the reason Goodneighbor’s looking so good, Silvia. An’ I’m thinking it can only get better if I convince you to visit more often. You know.. For Goodneighbor.” His gravelly voice spoke the words like he’d rehearsed them.. they were meant for an audience. She looked past him hesitantly and took a few steps into the room.

Her old worn boots made contact with a fairly clean carpet; someone must have beaten the holy hell out of it. The pile sunk just a little under her weight.

Hancock leaned on the wall beside the big doors and went fishing for a cigarette just inside his coat, his head down. Of course he was watching her past the brim of his hat as he lit the stale tobacco and breathed in chemical and spark. The smoke flowered from the ridge formally his nose and drifted upwards.

He was keeping his cool. This wasn’t about convincing her to be his.. just to be part of his town. She couldn’t refuse, right?

“So I took advantage of all those people looking to work off their meals…” He took another drag and waved his hand towards the room, smoke trailing it. “And now you’ve always got a place to crash in Goodneigbor.”

Silvia remembered there being a table in the center of this room, a bunch of chairs around it. A broken stove in one of the corners. Had there even been doors before? It was all gone now, the windows had been unboarded and all had blinds (a few damaged, but mostly intact) and thick rosy velvet curtains tied off to one side over each window, faded with age and spotted with patched-over rips and holes. The floor was swept and clean under the rugs scattered around the room.

The left side of the room was taken up by a bed.. a real bed.. With a couple of pillows and an old tan duvet with the faded hints of a floral design. There was a stack of folded blankets at the foot on a little chest. A dresser on one side, a desk with a computer on the other, screen lit. To her right was a couch and a table beside it, a few shelves on the walls, another rug below. Candles on the tables, all lit. The room had a pleasant glow, most of the outside light blocked.

The candle light gathered most around the corner to the right, across from the double doors. There was an old woven rug laid out in front of a huge claw-footed bathtub full of big silvery bubbles. Behind the tub was a little round table of candles and a radio and bottle after bottle of liquids with little white labels on each one. There was a glass jug on the floor beside the bathtub with something pink in it. A pink she hadn’t encountered since before the war.

Silvia was silent and still, Hancock letting his cigarette burn away as he watched her soak it all in. Maybe he’d gone over the top. There was a time when just a smile was enough to net any dame he wanted. He could swoon happily married women and make straight men blush. Now.. Now it wasn’t as easy, but he’d never stopped trying . In the end the charm wasn’t enough to hide his ugly face, and he admitted it was only the really damaged women who wanted to settle for him now, and most had motives of some kind. He took another deep pull from his cigarette and decided it didn’t matter if she was attracted to him or not, just making her happy was enough. At about the same time the realization hit that this might not make her happy for some reason. Why did she have to be so damned complicated?

One last pull on his cig before he dropped it on the floor and snuffed it out with his boot heel.

Old habits die hard.

She was still quiet and he was getting nervous. He’d love a chem break to untie the knot in his gut built on uncertainty. He thought he’d done it right; candles and scented oils, lotions and soap.. he’d cleared his storehouse of every pretty thing and pleasant smell he could find. Anything that reminded him of her. And the Bubble Bath. He had to deal with some very… loathsome people to get that little item of myth.

Shit. He’d gone too far. It was too much. She had probably never seen bubbles in her life. Shit, he broke her.

He pushed his lean body off the wall, the sound of creaking boards made her turn swiftly, black hair swinging around, her hands on the doorknobs before he could stop her.

“Wait.. Don’t.. Don’t run off again, damn it!” He was angry, eyes narrowed and hand in a fist. Somewhere in the back of his mind he prayed to the nuclear Gods that she didn’t turn around right then, and his face softened some. She didn’t move. “I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’.”

He spoke softly, his deep gravely voice cutting through her panic. She stopped, taking a deep ragged breath, letting it out in a breathy whisper. “Hancock..” She hesitated, not sure how to voice the doubts. How could she explain it to him? Everything that’d happened in the last year, the choices she faced, the dangers. The doubts.

Her son in the institute, creating slaves with his mother by his side. All the while Silvia fought to free those slaves and destroy the Institute in secret with the help of only a couple of close friends. She couldn’t risk giving away anything at this point, or it could fall apart. More than that, she realized.. she didn’t want to put him in danger. There was no guarantee she’d survive from day to day, always knowing the Institute could figure out her plans. He’d be in danger just to be near her.

He had no idea why she was rejecting him again. And she couldn’t tell him. “I.. I know you won’t hurt me. But just.. trust me.. I’m not safe to be around too long.” She made a little defeated sound and went to open the doors.

“Bullshit” He took three heavy steps and placed a scarred hand on one of the doors to hold them closed. She was looking down when he grabbed hold of her shoulder and pulled her far too roughly. She reluctantly turned to face him and he caught sight of those big grey eyes. “Look.. Hey.” She raised her eyes to his. They always looked wet, like she was about to cry, or just had.. He could see the light glow behind his tricorn hat, the silhouette reflected in her shining orbs. His thin lips crooked a little and his voice stayed low and rumbling. “You don’t get to make that choice for me. Whatever you got coming for you.. well I’ll stand right here to fight it with ya if it’ll keep you here a little longer.”

His smile was disarming. She loved looking into his eyes. More so when the roguish smirk and mayorly airs fell away. She let out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

“What do you want from me?” She whispered, confusion knitting her brow and her fingers clenching so tightly to the doorknob her nails were white.

Realization hit him again, and he learned one more thing about Silvia he hadn’t known before. “I don’t want anything. Well.. maybe just a chance to see that smile again.” He lifted his textured fingertips to her lips and touched them softly “This is… it’s for you. That’s all.”

There was lust in his eyes that normally matched her own. Hancock’s touch tickled her chapped lips and she tilted her head away, cheeks fully flushed and heat flowing off her skin. He let his hand fall and gently tugged at the door handle she wasn’t holding. “There’s a lock on the floor here… you yell for Wyatt if you need anything at all. I’ll be around. Just.. get some rest. You work too hard.”

“John..”

He stopped, looked at her wistfully, letting the man out of the monster costume for just a second. He loved the way she said his name, and it was nearly painful to hold himself back. If she’d been any other woman- “Someone will bring your bags in. Have fun, Doll.” He rushed out of the double doors, letting them click closed behind him, and Silvia could hear the knock of his boots as he descended the spiral staircase.

Silvia slumped to the plush rug and leaned back against the double doors, looking into the room he’d prepared just for her. Floppy came and placed both front paws on her chest, leaning in to lick her face happily. Silvia sighed and rubbed at the dog’s ears. “What do you think? Should we split?” She whispered to the animal. Her ears perked up and head tilted.. then she barked one of those hound-dog barks and bounced off Silvia’s chest, rushing for the bed. The dog turned around three times, rumpling the covers and plopped down in the middle.

“Traitor.” she smiled weakly. “Fine. One night.” Her butt scooted to one side so she could latch the door lock under her.

All the energy was gone from her body. She had to drag herself from the floor. There was a stack of towels at the foot of the bath and steam was still raising from the water, but the bubbles wouldn’t last much longer. Figures. She slipped out of her boots and crossed the room, enjoying the feel of walking in nothing but socks, the carpet sinking under her heels.

There were a thousand scents in the steam flowing from the water, and looking at the bottles she found labels reading 'Lavender oil’ and 'Rose oil’; bottles marked 'Lotion’ and 'Cream’ and 'Honey Paste’. As she picked through the bottles and jars she realized some were very old, and the contents could be anything, but a couple seemed newer.. maybe home made post-war products? And where had he found bubble bath? The bottle was unmarked. She scooped up a handful of bubbles to marvel at the little rainbows.

Of all the things she’d missed from the old world this was near the top of her list.

There was a knock at the door and she went to answer it, wiping the bubbles on the leg of her jeans. One door was unlocked and opened to Fahrenheit with Silvia’s bag in her hand. The tall thin woman held it impatiently. Silvia grabbed the hand hold and Fahrenheit gripped the strap, holding it in place. She stared at Silvia with narrowed eyes and a sneer. She let go at last and turned to leave. Silvia was happy to close and lock the door again.

Well it seemed Fahrenheit wasn’t happy to have someone distracting her boss.. He was her boss, right? She refused to think about it. It didn’t matter. She’d take the night of pampering and leave in the morning. And he’d have to accept that it didn’t matter what she wanted.. she simply couldn’t have a home right now.

——————

Hancock found himself in the basement, the double doors of his dusty cluttered room thrown open and his shoulders stiff as he stood in the doorway, deciding what to take to cut his nerves. With a swish of his coat-tails he stormed across the room and kneeled down to a box beside a half-smashed display case. The bottle of jet he grabbed was empty… as was the next one.

“Fuck.. Fuck fuck fuck.” He threw the bottles across the room and stood. “Fuck!” A heavy boot kicked the weak wood of the display case. it crumbled around his foot and he grabbed up the bottom of the case, sending it soaring across the room. It smashed into a painting, ripping the canvas wide, and clattered to the floor.

He wanted to hit something.. someone. A search of the drawers of his dresser came up with a syringe of liquid. He stared at the glass for a long time, mentally flipping the coin til at last he dropped back on his broken bed, defeated. Wouldn’t be the first time he’d gone into the high blind in a fit of frustration and self-loathing. He flexed his arm and smacked his thick skin then slid the needle into the crook of his elbow and pushed the plunger. His black eyes were already blown wide and the colors, the reds and blacks and sparking lights that started to fill his vision made it hard to focus. He let out a little growl and hissed under his breath as he clinched his fist against his chest. His legs started to itch and his chest was growing tighter and he couldn’t stay sitting any longer. “Fuck yeah….” The needle was tossed against the wall and Hancock stood, rushing from the room, slamming the door on it’s hinges as he left.

———————————

Two floors up Silvia was naked. She’d taken her time getting undressed, left her pip-boy on the desk and climbing into the tub. There was a case of cold beer on the other side of the tub, under the table. The water was starting to cool, but she was pleased to find a little pump under the faucet, the drain hooked into pipes too. She giggled happily when the water rushed down the hole and she refilled the tub again, steam filling the room once more. A little more of the pink… ooz.. from the jug was poured into the flow and worked with her fingers til it foamed up nicely. She cut the water off, grabbed a towel from the floor and laid back in the curved cast iron tub, her neck on the towel, long black hair hanging over the curled edge.

She closed her eyes and imagined she was in a fancy hotel in old world Boston, the beer beside her tub was actually a bottle of champagne, And far, far below this Grand Hotel a wash of people in fancy dresses and dashing coats rushed past, heading to a play or home from church. She didn’t have work to do, no commitments, no wars. Silvia let herself fall into that lie, let herself believe for just a few moments that life was normal. The air smelled like cream and old flowers and candle wax, the radio on the table was playing Sweet Nothings and the water rippled and splashed in the quiet room as she breathed.

It didn’t last long enough. A broken scream from the street below pulled her from her daydreaming and she was back in Goodneighbor. Despite the horrors that lay beyond these walls it was almost as nice. Silvia stayed relaxed in the tub, her eyes closed, thoughts traveling to the present. To John.

She mulled around his words, his spoken reasoning for the gift.. She wondered why he wanted her to stay, even while she knew the answer. At some point she started weighing pros and cons of staying in Goodneighbor.. and then she finally reached the real issue.. Putting him in danger. It wasn’t something she wanted to do to anyone. It’s why she liked being alone. It’s why she’d kept so many secrets so close to her heart, and kept her heart locked in a steel box. Being with her meant death.

She sighed and grabbed one of the beers from the floor. It’d be empty in a moment, like the two before it. There was a chance he wouldn’t get killed.. Maybe just dismemberer; brainwasher; medically tested… some twisted mix of the three that made him into some type of Kellogg-ish-Clone bent on killing. It hurt to imagine the things they could do to him because…. because… she wanted him to still be around if this war ever ended.

Silvia took her time cleaning every part of her, knowing this wasn’t something she’d have again soon. There was no way she would let herself off-guard like this in the Institute; She knew the room they’d assigned her was bugged; She knew they had humans and synths watching her on the surface. But here she felt secure enough to soak up hot water til her fingers and toes pruned.

Her hair took a while to clean and rinse out, but she had so much fun going through the bottles and mixing up the scents she liked most with some fresh-smelling buttery lotion while she drank another beer. The mixture left her raven black strands silky and shining.

The little bit of native blood in her family had made her hair straight and black and had given her large eyes that made her grandmother call her an old soul. When she was young she thought it made her ugly. Like having a big nose or a pointy chin. Now.. she didn’t care about her eyes. Didn’t bother with the makeup, either. It was a ritual in her old life, foundation and lipstick and shadow over her eyes. There was no need for those old rituals in this world. But she still held a little pride in her hair. She was careful to wrap it up in a clean towel when she climbed from the cool water. Another towel wrapped around her chest and fell almost to her knees.

There was a little table with a mirror atop it and a wooden chair in front of it just to the side of the now-draining tub. Silvia pulled her bag to the chair and sat down. She had forgotten about the gifts stuffed in the bags til this point and frowned. The bag was opened and items came out one after the other, sat out on the table before her. There was a stack of books, a tin full of holotapes and several small boxes. There was a flat wood case with a couple dozen vials of black liquid and a bunch of little paper envelopes with purple crayon words across each one. She stacked comic books on top of the hard bound books and lastly pulled free a large glass bottle with a faded silver label and silver wax on the cork. This was laid down behind the bathtub so she wouldn’t knock it around. Once everything was out and she had taken a moment to go over the list, she went back to the bag.

In a side pocket she found her comb and brush. The mirror was cracked but she was able to see enough to tell her lips looked better because of the steam, and the bruise she’d picked up on her forehead was gone. The burn scars were always going to be there though. She pulled her hair back to look at the thick skin spreading out from the right corner of her mouth, covering her jaw. It continued down her back and to the base of her spine. Silvia stood and turned around, looking over her shoulder to get a view in the mirror of the scar that spread down her spine like the limbs of an old tree. It’d been months since she’d looked at the scar… A year since she’d gotten it. This was a painful reminder of what Vault-tec had done for her.

She dropped her hair over her back and let out a sigh. Brushing the knots out of her slick hair was calming, and It was dry and combed before she bothered putting any clothes on.

————————————–

Silvia finished off her last beer somewhere between pulling on her jeans and socks. She found her boots and slipped them on then stopped, hesitating over her Pip-Boy. It was better to have it on her.. so reluctantly she clipped it onto her arm and headed out the door of the.. her.. room. Her blue sweater was full of holes, a dingy old undershirt dealt with the problem. She left her hair down, covering her neck and kept her head lowered on her way down the spiral stairs, all the way to the basement. She had a book in one arm and the wooden case in the other, both held against her chest to keep them from shaking. It’d been hours, and she was hoping he was still awake.

The door to his room was wide open. It was a mess.. and looked like it stayed a mess. There was broken wood on the floor amidst the drug paraphernalia but no Hancock to be found. Floppy Dog sniffed her way into the room. Silvia sighed. She set the book on his bedside table, the box on top of it and left the room, disappointed.

Now all she wanted was more booze and the best place to get it was down below the State House. The Third Rail was pretty empty at midnight thirty. She ordered a couple of beers at the bar then curled herself into the couch, feet tucked under her and Floppy taking up the seat beside her. Some old man at a table behind her clanked his bottles in boredom and a woman at the bar was laughing with the bot tender. Or rather, laughing while the bot tender mumbled something rude about drunks. Silvia started on her next bottle of beer and sank into the old cushions. She had a good view of the stairs from her couch corner.

Magnolia’s voice was sweet and sultry and Silvia was starting to understand why people still came to this dingy little bar

“There’s a light, certain kinda light,”
“Never ever, never shone on me, no, no.”
“Honey, I want, I want my whole life”
“To be lived with you, babe,”

She didn’t know the song.. might be one of Mag’s originals. It did bring back pleasant memories. She remembered sitting in a jazz club in Philly one year with three of her friends from university. They spent a week taking in the culture, drinking every night, flirting with young men in expensive suits. They rode a trolley and she fell off the bottom step.. broke a heel. Oh she hated heels, and was so happy they weren’t an obligation anymore. Well for most.

Magnolia wore heels; and a short black and white dress with faded black feathers around her shoulders. She stood with one elegante white gloved arm outstretched. Singing to herself, Silvia assumed; You don’t put that much passion in singing to a mostly empty room. her flat dark hair falling around her closed eyes. She was beautiful in any light, most would say. Silvia was enjoying the song, and the fond memories it brought back. So much had happened in the months since her world changed.. she found herself clinging to the old life, a part of her never giving up hope that she’d wake up from this dream. Times like this, when she realized she was dwelling on the past.. when she remembered her husband and son and the life she had.. well this was all she had now. The ache of loss was fresh in her chest as she listened to the words

“But what good, what good,”
“Honey, what good could it ever bring”
“'Cause I ain’t got you with my love”
“And I can’t find you babe, no I can’t. ”

She was done with the song, her face was warm and her eyes stung. She finished off the open beer in her hand and uncapped the second one, berating herself for nestalgia.. then deciding she didn’t care. Everyone else in this pathetic town was in the same place.. some worse. Why was she feeling sorry for herself?

Grey eyes turned to her Pip-Boy to check the time. With a little sigh she looked into her bottle, turned the neck in her fingers and watched the dark liquid shine in the dark glass.

“Oh I know that there’s a way”
“'Cause everybody came to me one time and said,”
“Honey, you can do anything,”
“Every little thing, and I think I can.”
“Oh, but what good, what good,”
“Honey, what awfully good can it ever, ever bring,”
“'Cause I can’t find you with my love,”
“And I can’t find you babe, oh anywhere.”

“Story of my life’” she muttered to herself and took another gulp of her warm beer. Magnolia was an artist.. but she better sing something upbeat soon or Silvia was going to take her drinking elsewhere.

Hancock skipped down the steps, a wide grin on his thin scarred lips, his hat down some to conceal the blood oozing from a cut on the lower tier and a swollen shut eye. He gave Magnolia a tip of his hat as he passed, not wanting to interrupt her song. Then dropped his behind into a stool, leaning heavily on the bartop. For one reason or another he hadn’t noticed her when he came in.. she watched him cross the room and fall into place. The smoke from his lit cigar blended in with the other scents in the air and his voice melted into the background. She decided not to look and simply stared at her beer bottle, considering her odds of escape.

He exchanged a few words with Charlie then slid off his seat and moved across the room with that self-confident grace that was his and his alone. One hand in the pocket of his slacks, the other outstretched to the dark haired woman, offering a red inhaler. It pulled her fully from her reverie with the beer bottle. He grinned his crooked grin and tilted his hat politely. She could clearly see his black eye and the red of his coat didn’t hide the blood on his shoulder. Silvia shook her head and forced a smile; At least now she knew where he’d gone.

She reached her hand out and scooped up the inhaler without thinking twice. He shooed the dog to the far seat and slouched to the couch beside her. Silvia sat her bottle down and placed the little plastic tube to her lips, taking in a long suck of tangy chemicals and holding them a few counts.

She realized then that the faint citrus that clung to him was probably from the Jet. She might never be able to take that tang without thinking of him after this point. It was part of him.. mixed with the other scents that brought him to mind.

She sighed out the smoky air then passed the inhaler and John duplicated the act, his eyes closing and head tilting back on the couch. Silvia had her legs tucked under her, boots lost and just socks covering her toes. She leaned her shoulder against the back of the couch, facing Hancock with her head laying on the back, parallel to his.

“You know I’m the mayor of this town.. can get pretty much anything I want.” He raised his hand, holding up the jet bottle to make a point.

She closed her eyes and laughed just a little, unimpressed. “What’d you do to earn that?” She asked contemptuously. His smile was gone now and he tossed his chemical inhalant to the table. It skidded across and hit a beer bottle.

“Killed the guy before me and took his title.” He waved a hand to Charlie, who brought over a red labeled bottle. Probably moonshine. Probably bad. He opened the bottle and took a swig, then offered it to her. “Don’t get me wrong. He was a real bad guy. He needed to die.” She declined and he shrugged. “And now I can have anything I want. Drugs, booze, women, hordes of ghouls to do my bidding.” His words brought a laugh from Charlie and Silvia found herself hooked on his little speech. “I got guns and guards and a second who scares supermutants when she sneezes.” His words barely slurred, even with the cracked lip.

“Sounds like you got it all, Mister Mayor.” She couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of her voice. He turned his head, one dark eye looking at her, the other too swollen to see past his eyelid.

“No” He rumbled.

She lowered her eyes from his face.

They were both quiet for a time, he watched her avoid his stare, she watched one of the distant blinking lights on her Pip-boy.

He turned away and took another drink from his bottle. Silvia dared to glance up. “Who’d you run into anyway?” She reached out, fingers tracing the line of his eye socket where the swelling ended. He didn’t move as her fingers rounded his rough cheek.

All at once his hand shot out and grabbed her fingers, the anger soaking his tired, ragged voice. “Don’t.” Her fingers crushed painfully between his, she didn’t move either. “Don’t do.. that.. Don’t give me more reasons. Don’t tease me.” His tone was deathly quiet.

When she tried to look away he let go of the hand and guided her cheek back with his palm, seeking her eyes. “Silvie you’re killing me, baby..”

“Then just.. just stop-”

“Stop what? Stop wanting you.. when I know you want me too?”

Her cheeks fired up, his hand was greeted by a wave of warmth. Her eyes closed and her face leaned into his hand. She whispered close to his palm. defeated “I want a lot of things I can’t have.”

“You can have me.” He growled out the words, trying to force her to understand.

She kissed the palm of his hand and nuzzled her nose into his fingers. He ran the rough pad of his thumb down the bridge of her nose. It brought a content look to his face few had ever witnessed.

“John..” She started.

“I know.. ok? I know… just.. don’t think about any of that.” He leaned into her, his face so very close to her neck, his lips near her ear, his voice a whisper “none of it matters right now.” His lips touched her jaw and kissed teasingly, the scent of flowers and cream filling his senses.

“And when it does matter?” She breathed.

He kissed her ear and stood from the couch, holding a gnarled hand out to her. “I’ll deal with it. I’m the Mayor.”

Floppy Dog stretched herself out and slinked off the couch, her tail wagging excitedly as she waited for Silvia to leave, expecting it was time to do so. It made Silvia laugh and she gave the dog an ugly look. “Damn traitor.” she muttered to raised ears. Regardless, she grabbed Hancock’s hand and stood, allowing him to wrap an arm around her and pull her close to him when they finally hit the cool night air.

She wasn’t graceful after drinking all night and missing more than a little sleep. He was only a little better off. The door was easy enough to get through, but the spiral staircase gave her problems. He insisted they go up to her room. And when they reached the door he stopped to let her go first… and give her one last chance to reject him, 'cause once he entered that room he wasn’t leaving.

She didn’t even attempt it, her hand pulling him along into the room behind her. He swung the doors mostly closed and pulled her back to him, both arms sliding in around her waist to pull her chest flush against his.

(Neither noticed Floppy Dog sneak in past them and curl up on the couch.)

Hancock leaned back heavily on the door and it gave under his weight, clicking fully closed. There was a little laugh from both of them and they relaxed into the embrace.

His hands explored her sides and back atop her sweater, enjoying the feel of her long smooth hair over his knuckles. She was sensitive in spots and Hancock craved to map out each one. His eyes never left hers. He had finally gone and lost himself in those exotic eyes of hers; He’d found the silver streaks that wove into the grey and wanted to ride the little lines like a drug. Hancock registered her hands on his chest, his coat opened and her fingers sliding down his body, reaching for the cloth tied around his waist.

There was no need to stand on toes or duck down, her lips found his with ease, gingerly brushed and teased til he growled into her mouth and caught her lower lip up between his teeth. Her breathy moans mixed with his growl and the rattling of the door at Hancock’s back.

She’d untied the knot in his belt and pulled the threadbare old flag from around his waist; It fell to their feet, joined shortly by her sweater, the Pip-boy clanked to the floor next. His hands wanted skin and he was fighting to remove her undershirt while still kissing her, making it impossible.

She grew frustrated so easily; Her hands went to his chest and pushed him away from her, his back thumping against the door. The loss of his kiss was as much a shock to her as him but she recovered quickly and pulled her shirt off over her head. He shrugged off his coat and Sil started pulling at his buttons clumsily. When they wouldn’t come undone she yanked his shirt up along his stomach and he helped her pull it off over his head.

Her mouth was on his again before the cloth hit the ground, her hands traveling over his scars, tracing the lines with smooth fingertips; across his chest, down his stomach, it made the muscles pull tight across his midsection and she let out a little gasp when senue stretched across her fingers.

Her touch was fire, he hissed as her fingers dragged over his damaged flesh, his lips replying to her needy kisses. He finally just grabbed her up in his tone embrace, her buttocks in his hands, her legs flexed and gripping around his waist. She weighed nothing in his strong arms. He hiked her body up and held her against his grooved and mangled chest, head tilting back to keep her kiss. She laid her hands on his cheeks, her dark hair falling around her face, tickling his forehead as her mouth locking with his. It was primal and messy and he needed more.

In the glow of candlelight she was carried to the side of the bed and dropped back into it unceremoniously. There was no fear in her when she fell back. His eyes found hers again, saw her long hair spread out in a fan around her head, her plump, smooth little breasts rising and falling atop her narrow ribcage, dark nipples begging to be rolled between fingers and lips and teeth. He stood between her spread legs marveling at the delicious creature spread before him.

Her eyes drifted down from his onyx orbs and over his toned yet scarred body. His sides glistened with rippling red and white senue, his chest grooved and tattered. She wanted to touch him again, feel the heat coming off his skin in waves, feel his chest rise and fall as he breathed.

Her hands went to her jeans, trying to unbutton them as fast as possible, her butt wiggling on the blanket to force them off her hips.

Hancock’s hand laid atop her stomach to stop her squirming. Silvia ceased her pants struggle and looked at him questioningly. The fire in her cheeks grew when she saw his content look. He was just.. happy. She turned her face away, looking down the bed, unable to hide the twinge of embarrassment as he looked down at her half naked body. He didn’t say anything, just unzipped her jeans for her and slid them down off her legs. No boots. Huh.

He was taking his time now, letting his thumbs drag down her thighs as he pulled her panties off, a little growl of pleasure joining her soft moans whenever he came across something sensitive or ticklish. His fingertips trailed back up over her knees when the panties were gone. Hancock traced up her thighs and over her mound, just a fluttering touch across the sparse black forest growing between her legs. His palms stopped on her stomach, warm and heavy as they held her there on the bed, her legs hanging off the edge.

His body leaned into hers, too-thick cloth covering his growing erection. His thin lips lowered to her stomach and kissed her navel, moving slowly up. He pawed at her sides and her hips and ran his rough palms down her body, down her thighs, spreading them again with gentle prodding.

His nimble mouth traveled upwards, finding her right nipple first. Like granting a wish; Silvia moaned for him. He sucked at the little bud, drawing another soft sound from her throat. It was too easy. He searched for the other nipple to see if it would be the same. The low throaty sound that flowed from her lips made his cock jerk against his pants.

They had to go.

It was nothing to yank them down and let them fall to the ground, his boots kicked off somewhere in the process. Hancock saw her eyes watching him as the pants fell away. He realized he had no idea if ghouls could blush.. but he could be. She was looking at him with a lust he hadn’t seen in the eyes of a woman in a lifetime.. maybe ever.

Lost in the moment, her great big eyes gazing into his, her hands touching the curve of his cheek and jaw. He drew himself up her body, hands pressing into the worn duvet and knees coming up under her raised hips. Her long, toned legs curled around him and her heels dug into the backs of his thighs.

There was a burst of warm breath on his mouth as Silvia whispered his name. His hard member jerked again, the underside smacking teasingly against her slit. Her hips bucked up desperately, “John..” She breathed once more. He sealed her lips with his, tongue searching for it’s mate as his agile fingers trailed down her body, gripping her almost painfully. She rocked her hips up against the long, wide shaft that pressed hard against her opening.

He could feel the slickness of her on his cock, underside pressed against her body, gliding up along her opening as he rocked forward, the heat in his belly needy and aching. It was just too easy, and he had no self control left in him. dark eyes fell closed and his hips shifted under her. The broad head of his manhood pushed past her swollen lower lips and into the tight warmth of her cunt.

A primal, guttural sound filled the room as he sunk into her. She gasped for air and her dull nails stung Hancock’s shoulders, dragging down his back painfully.

The ball of need that’d wound up so tight in her belly finally released and spread out through her body. it ripped the air from her lungs and the energy from her lips. He thrust again, nearly filling her with his hard, thick length, stretching her little wet slit around his shaft. It was exquisite, her body arched into his, eager to have all of him.

Hancock’s textured palms slide up under her waist, pulling her body harshly to his hips, thrusting deep into her warmth. The ghoul pulled Silvia’s body against him and tilted his face into her neck, loosing himself in the dark waves of her hair and the smell of her body; soft and sweet and flowery, spiked with jet and cheap beer. He bit at her shoulder as he thrust again, the shocked sounds she made driving him.. he wanted those sighs and moans, wanted to hear her whisper his name, longed to know what sounds she would make for him when she came.

He didn’t set the rhythm; Neither of them did, it was just over too quick to have a pace. His hips crashed into hers, again and again. It was only a few moments til he could feel her slick inner walls clenching down around him, her voice raising with every pulse of her delicate folds. Her body rocked up against his, her arms stretching around his neck and holding him tight, her face buried against the crook of his neck.

He had no intention of stopping. His lean body held her against the mattress and his muscles flexed under her fingers. Her breathing was ragged and she fought to fill her lungs.

When the dams broke her legs tightened around his hips and a long low moan filled the space between them, dampened by his shoulder and neck.

His body responded to her needy cries and Hancock thrust hard into her again. There was no holding back; Silvia shuddered at the sensation of his seed filling her core and felt the rumble in his chest as he groaned in that gravelly voice of his.

“Silvie..” Hancock breathed the name. His mouth found hers and the kisses were soft and lingering, maybe a little apologetic. He teased at her lips, coaxing her down from wherever she floated, trying to come down himself.

Real, dream, drunken nightmare. He hoped- He prayed to any god that might be listening that this was real.

As long as she was in his arms he couldn’t deny it was.. and In his arms she trembled, overwhelmed and unprepared to come crashing back down to post-nuclear earth; Unprepared to look up at his sweat-glistening and radiation-scarred face through blurred vision, see his hauntingly dark eyes staring back at hers. She felt the weight of him atop her all at once, his warm breath on her sticky neck as he touched her skin with his thin lips. Her hair clinged to parts of her face, her arms felt heavy and legs sore from holding onto his bony hips. She didn’t dare move.

It seemed a long time that she looked up into the madness of his gaze. His breathing had slowed to a quiet pant. Hancock braced himself above her on his hands, her smooth skin damp and sticking to his rough torso.

It was easy to reach a calm place with him so close.. she’d felt it early on. The first time she fell into his bottomless coal-black eyes, she knew what it meant to find one’s soul mate… If there was such a thing. The peace she found in those sparkling orbs told her there was. That thought was turning in her head as she stared up at him.. and she had to set it aside and focus on something else. There was no need to go that far with this.

“So what really happened?” She asked in a hushed tone as her fingers traced the swelling of his eye once more. It was a good distraction from deeper, disturbing realizations.

“I didn’t get to fuck you four hours ago, that’s what happened.” He was growling the words, still short of breath, but the smirk told her he was just being a jerk.

She poked his cheek. “So your face fucked someone’s fist instead?”

His head pulled up and teeth snapped at her fingertip “You’re a smartass, you know that?”

She was grinning now. There was no amount of biting that would keep her from touching his face though. “I get the feeling that’s your favorite part of me.”

“One of em.” He left her fingers alone and lowered his head to kiss at her collar bone.. then her chest.. then the soft point of one breast. Her nipple instantly responded to the touch and a tremor ripped through her. His lips parted and his nimble tongue rolled around the hardening little nub.

She whimpered.

He grinned.

“You didn’t think I was done, did you?”

———————————–

The sun would be up soon. The candles had long since burned out, the room was dark except for the glow of her Pip-Boy on the floor near the double doors.

The blanket was off the bed, balled up in the floor; Floppy Dog slept soundly atop it.

Silvia’s legs tangled into the sheets that Hancock had rejected. He ran hot and she was happy with just the thin cloth on her stomach and legs and his warm torso at her back. He had an arm draped over the meaty part of her hip and his face was tucked between the pillows and her hair; How he had fallen asleep like that she did not know.

Silvia had been watching the light grow beyond the blinds for the last hour. She’d not moved at all in that time, seemingly comfortable in her clean bed, under clean sheets, with… with….with a man who wanted to be with her…whom she wanted to give herself to.

The light crept into the room as those thoughts turned and tumbled through her mind, twisted by exhaustion. Her thoughts ran the gamut between happily ever after and a fiery suicide pact. The unknown of the situation was what really got to her. She barely knew Hancock. Sure, she knew the attraction she felt.. she knew people loved him… knew he wanted to help people.. and he was too proud to ask for help himself. She knew that he understood her. Somehow. And he wanted to make her smile. She knew he was a good kisser. She knew he could keep secrets. She knew.. this felt more like home than any other place in the Commonwealth had since the bombs fell.

The first birds started chirping from a wire near her window. Silvia guessed it was around 5 am.. She started making plans to steal away from the sleeping mayor, getting dressed, grabbing her gear and just leaving. She could do it without waking him, she was sure of that; He was exhausted.

Silvia never moved, though. His hand stirred on her hip around 6, when the dark blues started to turn to grey’s through the slats of the blinds. He was breathing in the smell of her hair; She could feel his chest rise and fall against her back.

His hand moved up her hip and her waist and her shoulder, stealing every touch he could get, til he reached her hair and pulled it over her exposed shoulder so he could kiss her back. In the dull light he could just make out the shadowy scar down her spine. His fingers ran from the base of her skull to her tailbone, the feel of rough skin on her somewhat fresh scars sent a shiver down her spine.

“Silvie what is this…?” He asked, confused by the spiderweb of healing skin. He ran his fingers up this time and followed the winding damaged flesh to her neck, finding it connected on the right side with the patch of burnt flesh on her cheek and chin, near her mouth.

“Sat on a plasma mine… I still walk funny when there’s a lightning storm.”

“Sil..”

She grinned and wiggled back against him. “God Kissed me.”

“Sil-”

She cut him off, laughing. “Atom is real and his power flowed through me and out my butt!”

“Silvia..” He didn’t sound amused.

She rolled around in the sheets, her body turning to face his, right cheek landing on the pillow again close to his. She was hiding the burns on her cheek in the pillow. She scooted in close til her chest pressed to his and his knee slide up between her legs, the thin sheet separating them.

She was still smiling as she turned to him. She looked tired; he wondered if she’d slept at all. “We’ve all got Scars, John…” She whispered. A small kiss was planted on his lips. He offered up a shoulder for her to lay her head against and when she took it he wrapped both arms around her slim body, holding her close.

'You’re not going to tell me, are you?“

"Maybe some day.” She whispered.

Chapter Text

John Hancock had never felt so alive.. and that was saying a lot for a ghoul.

She laid there for so long with her eyes closed and her body pressed up against his. Her hair was a mess, all over the pillows; some got in his nose and he had to wipe it away, but it just made this painfully short time that much more memorable.

He was wrapped in her scent, in her arms. Silvia’s face was so very close to his as she laid there motionless. Hancock could steal as many kisses as he wanted. He did.. one or two. Her nose begged for it. Her lips more so. There was a faint, content turn of her lips when he stole those kisses.

So much of her touched his body; her leg had slid out of the thin sheets and tangled with his; her breasts crushed pleasantly against his gnarled chest. She had an arm draped around his waist and her hand brushed his back with every breath.

Her head laid on his bare shoulder, his arm stretched out over the edge of the bed beyond her; It’d long since fallen asleep.

His free hand roamed her body as she laid there drifting in and out of consciousness. He touched her stomach, following the little stretch marks just under her breasts down to her waist, where he’d laid his hand flat for a time just to feel the expanse of her skin under his palm, like an anchor to the moment.

John couldn’t tell if she was sleeping. Maybe, like him, she just wanted to stay like this a little longer; In the quiet room of the State House, in the half-light, no one to steal their attention or start a fight. No need for guns and armor. No thoughts of the wars they both fought. Just the comfort of her body touching his, the sound of her breathing, the smell of her hair. The peaceful look on her face he committed to memory, knowing he might never see it again.

Hours after Hancock had woken, Silvia at last fell asleep. The sun had risen to red-gold heights beyond the thick window coverings and Hancock knew he had things to do, preparations to make.. but being there with her just a little longer became his priority, and it was near noon when he finally untangled himself from her and the bed, sure that exhaustion had won the fight. Sure she was at last sleeping.

——————————————-

He didn’t sneak out; Sneaking around a sleeping woman is just asking for trouble.

Hancock let the buckles clank as he pulled his pants back on. He sat on the edge of the bed to pull his boots on, letting them clop against the floorboards as they would. He grabbed his coat and hat off the ground and pulled on each in turn. His shirt was on the floor by the door with hers, where it would stay.

She shifted in the sheets when she heard the clanks and the clops, and when she felt his body moving on the bed she reached out towards him and cracked her eyes open to see what made the noise, before falling into sleep once more with a calm look on her beautiful face.

When Hancock left the room, Floppy Dog on his heels, one of the double doors clicking behind him and rattling on the hinges a little; he was grinning.

It was easy for him to sneak out of a woman’s room. Not sneaking.. making sure she knew, even as she slept, that he wasn’t sneaking away… well that felt damned good.

He took the time to rub his face now that he was out of the room. The sunlight streaming into the foyer was far too much of a contrast from the dark comfort of Silvia’s room. It took a second for his vision to adjust, just to catch sight of Fahrenheit standing in his study, arms crossed and staring angrily at him across the stairwell.

Silvia’s dog was sniffing her way to the study and the ghoul grunted. “Someone take her outside before she pisses in my office.” He volunteered the closest guard with a wave of his hand.

Fahrenheit hadn’t moved. She just glared at him from afar.

He scoffed and descended the stairs. She could be a real ball buster when she wanted. And he was gonna have to deal with it, there was no avoiding her. But there wasn’t much that could dampen John’s spirits right now.

In the basement of the State House Hancock found his room much as he left it.. an udder mess. He dug around for another shirt and clean pants. Lucky ghoul found a box of mentats under his piles of dirty clothes and popped one into his mouth, then went back to looking for something he could actually wear.

The thought crossed his mind that he was being way too picky, clothes are clothes. Must be the Mentats talking.

A fresh pair of jeans and a white button up where at last produced from his dresser. Of course he didn’t check there first.. never could do anything the easy way. He tossed them on the bed and closed the double doors to change.

Boots clanked again as they were kicked off, his big red overcoat was laid out on the bed and he dropped into his broken mattress with a crush of wood and springs. No sheets.. no pillows either. Had he really been sleeping in this bloody hole so long? Now.. he never wanted to go back to being alone in that bed. But it was a fleeting thought, as his attention was turned easily to the box on his bedside table.

Alright, now the mentats are working. He picked up the box and looked inside the clear glass top. Vials ran in rows, standing on end in little notches build just for them. He opened the box and pulled one vial from the rest, studying it in the dim light. Black liquid filled the cartridge, the end a cap meant to fit into some unknown device; A syringe? A gun? He turned the tiny vial in his fingers, watching the bubbles churn the dark, thin liquid inside. After a moment of speculation he put the vial back and closed the box, clipping the tab on the edge into place to secure it. A search of the sides and bottom gave him no answers.

He went to set the box back down so he could finish changing.. but the book that had been hiding under it now had his attention. Big gold letters flowered along the edge, and he turned it to look as he grabbed the book.

“‘The Prince’. Niccolo Machiavelli.. Machiavelli? Huh.” He flipped the book open, thumbed past a few blank pages and skimmed the index curiously. A smile spread across his lips as he read the chapter names til at last he laughed. “The way to govern cities.. how many kinds of soldiers there are? Things for which princes are blamed…. Liberality and meanness? Hah.. who the hell left this here?”

He flipped through the book again, front and back covers, but there was no signature, no note. Glancing to the vials and back to the book, he really had only one guess as to who left them, but she hadn’t said anything.. of course they’d been kind of busy.

Both were carefully left on his table while he changed into a pair of jeans with fresh patches in the knees and one of the white button up shirts he’d stolen from some dry cleaning git up in Alancy. He buttoned the cuffs and forced the collar to lay flat; The top couple of buttons left open. For the first time in years he wished he had a mirror around.

His red frock coat was pulled over his shoulders and the boots went back on. He realized he still smelled like her; a faint flowery aroma and a soft musky smell that made him grin dubiously.

Hancock scooped up his two new treasures before leaving his room, doors clicking closed behind him.

————————–

“Stop reading that damned thing and look at me, Hancock. This is serious.”

It might have been the third time Fahrenheit had yelled those words at him, and this time he pulled his eyes from the book and looked at her. She was fuming. He’d seen her this angry before though. Typically when she wasn’t getting her way.

She had the dog’s attention too. Floppy raised her head from the ragstag bone she’d been gnawing on for the last half hour, ears up.

“You’re overreacting. Everything’s cool, babe. Just.. How 'bout a chem break? You’re way too stressed out.”

“Of course I’m stressed out! You’re screwing the fucking Silver Shroud! And when you decide to throw her away she’s gonna come back for us. She really thinks she’s the fucking Shroud. We’re the bad guys, Hancock! We don’t need this kind of shit. What the hell were you thinking?!”

He put the book down and glared at his second in command, his voice a dangerous growl “I’m not gonna throw her away, Fehra.” The dog was having no more of it and took her bone into the foyer.

“Hah! You think that matters? She’s gonna figure out what we are.. what we do. She’s gonna take this town like we took it, and light a fire under our asses.

"She wouldn’t.. Goodneighbor is safe, the people are happy.. That’s all she wants.” The ghoul said calmly.

“Sweeping the sidewalks and feeding a few homeless ghouls just to get her to come back isn’t enough, Mister Mayor. It won’t last. This little peace we have won’t last. She won’t last.”

He had a deadly look in his deep, dark eyes at those last three words. Hancock stood, glaring at his golden haired second, who dared to snarl back.

“She doesn’t love you, John… She can’t.”

His fist connected solidly with her face and blood spirted from her nose. she stepped away from the mayor, holding her bleeding face. She mumbled a few curses.

“Why not, Georgia? You gonna say it or should I? You think I don’t know why she can’t love me? And still there she is!” He waves his hand to the doors across the foyer. “And if I gotta work my ass off to keep her here.. well Goodneighbor will be the next fuckin’ Diamond City for her.” He turned from her and smashed his hand into the table… then pulled it up to rub his knuckles.

“You’re doing it for her though. you’re not-”

“Why can’t it be that way? Why can’t I have someone to try for? We been doing this all along for ourselves.. we’re still doing it. Just.. I got bigger reasons now.”

“She’s gonna get us all killed. And I don’t wanna be here for that… you’re pushing me, brother. Just.. listen to me. You had fun. Break it to her easy. Now. Before things get out of hand.”

“No”

“John you can’t fucking do this! You’re gonna get us all-”

“No! This is how it’s gonna be. I’m not changing course!” He turned to face her, to stare her down, and was greeted with a balled fist to his chin. His whole jaw shook and his head snapped to the side, tossing him into the table. He leaned on an elbow, rubbing his jaw and the gash she’s caused with her gauntlet, looking up at the bloody, wet face of his closest friend.

She was ready to hit him again. “I’ll do it myself if I have to. I’m not letting you take everything we’ve made away from me.”

He couldn’t smile, but he wanted to. It was this fire that made them such good friends growing up. They’d been through the wringer and come out alive.. together.. more times than he could remember, and he had no intention of giving that up just yet.

“Then help me. Help me keep her. Help me make Goodneighbor worthy of having the Silver Shroud protecting it.. Don’t laugh at me woman!”

She was, she couldn’t help it, but it hurt like hell.

“I’m serious. You an’ me always wanted to turn this place into a real town.. trade and farms, people with jobs and homes and families. You remember, right? Before we took it, all those jet dreams of making something for ourselves… somethin’ real.”

“We got that, John. This is real.” She slumped into the couch he’d been sitting on not long ago and sighed. A rag was produced from some hidden pocket and she wiped the stained cloth on her bloody face. “It doesn’t get better than this”

“I don’t see why not” He dropped into the couch beside her, rattling the box of vials as he set his hat atop it. “I got the nerve to try, at least. An’ it’d be a lot more fun with you along for the ride.”

She was quiet. He was sure she was hurting. They’d never been lovers, never would, but she was probably a little jealous. It wasn’t enough for all this, though.. she was truly concerned for Goodneighbor. And it’s Mayor.

“You gotta agree to something.”

“……. What?” His eyes cast to her face suspiciously.

“When this goes south.. when everything starts fucking up-”

“If”

“When it breaks.. you don’t get to stop me when I fix the problem.”

“I.. I can’t agree to that, and you know it.”

She sighed and slumped back in her seat. “I know.”

“Can’t you have a little faith in me?”

“Why? Because she does?” She scoffed.

“Because I’m selfish.”

“Well that I believe. I’ll try.. but that damned super hero better not-”

He cut her off with a laugh and tilted his head to look at her. They were both sprawled back on the couch, a little bloody; Ferenheight’s nose was bleeding onto her armor padding and Hancock’s chin had a nice bloody gash in it.

“Her name’s Silvia.”

“Huh… Pretty name.”

“I thought so.”

“You know anything else about her?” Fahrenheit glanced sidelong at the mayor.

“She smells like sunshine..” He sighed happily. “Everywhere.”

Fahrenheit waited quietly, expecting more.

“She likes red wine.”

Fahra raised a rusty brow. “Where the hell is she from? The Upper Stands?”

“Don’t think so.. Don’t think she’s from the Commonwealth at all. Hell I’m not even sure she’s from this planet.” That got him a strange look.

He chuckled. “She… Yeah, she could be an alien. She’s got this little round gun.. like something out of a comic book.. says it turns whatever it hits into a pile of goo.”

Fahrenheit laughed so hard her face hurt and the laughter turned to a pained groan.. but she was still smiling. “An alien ray gun.. Hancock you’re an idiot. She’s fucking with ya, man.”

“I don’t know.. those eyes. I ain’t seen anything like them on this planet…” He sighed wistfully.

“So she’s an alien who smells like happy, drinks wine and likes wearing funny costumes. And she’s got a thing for crusty faced ego-freaks like you. Fuck… why didn’t I see it before..” She sounded serious.

“What?”

“She was fucking made for you.. why was I ever worried?”

Hancock laughed with a tinge of pain and nudged his second’s shoulder with his. “If she was, I’m the luckiest ghoul alive.”

“You really have fallen hard, haven’t you?”

“Yeah… and when you fall for her too you better keep your grubby hands off.”

She was grinning. “Well now, that’s a great idea.. best idea you’ve had yet.”

“Don’t.. you wouldn’t stand a chance. You’re not her type.”

“Eh.. you might be right. I’m too pretty.”

“I have to agree there.” The voice came from the open double doors of the study. Both Hancock and Fahrenheit turned to look as Deacon gave Hancock a salute and his second a bow. “Beautiful in every way, especially on the battlefield.” He was grinning. The dog was beside him, sans bone, wagging the end of her tail. Deacon gave her head a rub.

The tall, wheat haired warrior stood then, wiping her bloody face again with the rag and sniffling. “Flattery will get you everywhere.”

Deacon stood straight and smoothed back his slick black hair, a hand stuffed in his jean pocket and those dark glasses covering his eyes. “I guess that means we’re trading, Hancock. You get Black Bear, I get Miss Honey here.”

“Kinda need her to take over the world.” The ghoul snickered. “Kinda need both of em, now that I think about it. Sorry old friend.”

“Ug… Why do you do this to me, Hancock? I’m sure we can work something out.” Deacon closed the double doors before stepping into the room, Floppy dog in tow. He grabbed a chair and pulled it up near the couch, straddling it backwards. “In fact, I got an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Oh?” John scooped up his tricorn hat and stuck it back on his bald head, ready to talk business, Railroad brand or other.

It didn’t happen. Deacon’s eyes fell on the wooden case as it tumbled forward and rattled. It’d been hiding under the old hat and, though they couldn’t see it, his eyes widened.

“Where the hell did you get Nite Bite?!” He stood, the chair knocked forward. He grabbed up the box in both hands and tilted it into the light so he could see the veils. Any thought of buying Fahrenheit off the mayor was forgotten. “Dear God.. that’s..” He ticked off numbers with his fingertip against the glass, counting the veils. “Hell man, Who’d you have to kill for this?”

“Nobody, it was a gift… what the hell is Nite Bite anyway?”

“Man someone loves you. This stuff isn’t even real. Fuck.. maybe it’s just Nuka Cola..” He went to open the box and Hancock didn’t stop him.

“What the hell is it, Deacon?” The Mayor sounded annoyed.

Deacon held up a little glass vial and shook it, the thin black liquid sloshed against the glass. “It’s called Midnight Express. Old world drug. Kinda thing you can’t get now; it never hit the black market. Saw it in medical files P.A.M. uploaded. It was used by the military to develop Psykers.. then when the war hit to buff the troops. Not exactly sure what it does.. some kinda sensory enhancing drug. Like.. Sixth Sense enhancing. Like. 'eyes in the back of your head’ kinda shit.”

The ghoul held out a scarred hand and Deacon handed the vial over. “Never heard of it. You fuckin’ with me, man?” He rolled the glass tube between his fingers, perplexed.

The Railroad spy grabbed a second bottle from the case and held it up, shaking his head. “If this is the real thing.. This right here is worth more caps than you have ever seen in your life,” He shook the vial and grabbed up another one. “This one is worth all of Diamond City,” He grabbed another vial “This one could buy the whole damn Institute. This one.. might be enough to get Ferinheight to sleep with me” He looked over his glasses to the woman, grinning and she flipped him off unceremoniously.

“I get it man, I get it.” Hancock waved a hand, still looking at the vial. “Where you think she got it?”

Deacon tilted his head, looking at the Mayor strangely behind his dark glasses. “Who?”

“His girlfriend.” Fahrenheit injected, chin nodding to the Mayor, arms crossed once more. Her nose had stopped bleeding, her face was wiped off, and she was ignoring the blood on her clothing; It just mixed with the rest.

“His girlfriend.. Aw how cute!! When can I meet her? You gonna get married and make lots of little ghoul babies?” Huh, they were.. what… dating? Deacon hadn’t expected things to move so fast. But he knew it was going to happen.

Deacon was trying to pocket one of the vials when John snatched them all out of his hand.

“Ya already met her. She works for you. Er.. well 'you guys’.” Hancock said with a laugh.

Deacon grabbed the chair up off the floor, spinning it around. He sat back down, facing the mayor. “So you and Silvia, huh? I didn’t see that coming. Is it official, or you just snogging?”

“Snogging?”

“Snogging, doing the dirty, horizontal waltz…” He grinned “Bumping uglies.” Fehra laughed behind him.

The ghoul didn’t look amused. “Fuck if I even know yet. Are you two done asking questions about my love life?”

“Is it love?” Deacon’s brow raised above the line of his sunglasses. Hancock stared at him for a few minutes. He was done with the interrogation. Thankfully his second was keenly aware of this and chimed in.

“Deacon you think one of your big brains could figure out what that stuff really is?”

He looked back to Fehra and shrugged. “Not sure. Never met anyone who knew how it was made.. or what was in it, but I am only one man, and my knowledge has limits.

Hancock snirked, but gave his second a nod and handed back two of the glass tubes. "Figure out what you can with one. Keep the other as payment. If this stuff is worth what you’re saying, you might not have to worry about gearing up your outfit for a long time, assuming you find the right buyer.”

He held the little glass bottles and grinned. “I know people. No one’s gonna give me a city for it, but it should be a nice sum. You sure man?”

“Yeah.. and if you know people.. Give me some contacts. This stuff could be just the thing Goodneighbor needs.” He looked over to his partner in crime, grinning. “A little economic boost. And maybe some of the shit from that book.”

“Book?”

“There were two gifts.” Fahrenheit said calmly. “Those things and a book.”

Hancock tossed him the little black book. He read the gold lettering, “The Prince… ” He flipped the book open, skimmed the index and the first pages… then raised a brow to Hancock. “Someone got the wrong idea about you, buddy.”

“What’s wrong with someone thinkin’ I’m a prince?”

“You’re only a prince if she kissed you, Sir Frog”

“If that’s true, I’m the fucking King.”

———————–

There is something intoxicating about clean sheets.

Silvia rolled over in the pleasant smelling layers of thin cloth, letting it wrap loosely around her naked body. She reached out and grabbed a hold of the other pillow, her own on the floor somewhere, and pulled it against her, snuggling into it. It smelled like John.. like cigars and grape mentats and musk.. She drifted back into sleep with her arms around the pillow and her body
comfortable in the clean bed.

For a while she drifted in and out of sleep, the dim light of the room fading as hours passed. The birds quieted and the clicking of doors and muddled voices beyond her room quieted with it.

It was the twinge of pain in her bladder that forced her from the sheets at last. She sat up and clicked the lamp on the table beside her, looking around the room as her fingers ran back through her slick black hair in a failed attempt to keep it out of her face. Her feet hit clean carpet, her sheet was left in the bed, and she went looking for something to wear to the bathroom just outside her bedroom doors.

Her clothes were piled up in front of the double doors. Along with Hancock’s white ruffled shirt. She picked it up and held it out in front of her briefly, but changed her mind on wearing it; she didn’t think she could do it, not with guards out there and….. and who knows what else. She dropped it and quickly grabbed her jeans and shirt off the floor, pulling them on in haste.. her bladder was being persistent.

Silvia slipped out of one door, still barefoot, and rounded the corner into the other. There was movement in the study across from her, but she didn’t look; potty first, then people. The bathroom door was clicked and locked behind her.

Hancock had been busy; This place used to be a pig sty. But now there were clean towels on the shelf, a ratty old hamper, partly duct taped in the back, the lipstick and grease had been wiped off the mirror and someone had painted over the crude pictures and rude words written on the bathroom walls. The walls were pale green now.. so was the floor and ceiling in little splotches. No one had ever taught the wasteland how to tape and corner.

Silvia loved it.

She stripped down and turned on the little shower stall. Everything was sore, and a hot soak in the big claw-foot bath would be wonderful.. but there’s no point in getting used to luxury, it never lasts, she told herself. She’d had clean sheets a few times in the wastes, she’d have them again.. Of course it could be months before she had a real bath again. Let alone a hot shower.

Might never see bubble bath again…

It wasn’t til the warm water had soaked into her bones and the crust in her eyes had washed away that she started thinking over the idea of leaving. This world didn’t give you time for relationships like this. She’d kept herself separate from everyone thus far… Alright, maybe not everyone.

Nick. Nick was the first person that she really, truly felt a connection to.. and it never mattered that he wasn’t a person at all. He reminded her of all the good things in the old world. He treated her like a person, something most people didn’t realize they’d forgotten. The two made a great team, during wartime and peace. They’d worked cases together, saved people, fought raiders.. he’d been there when she’d accidentally shot Psyco into her thigh instead of a stempac.. he took a couple of punches, too. And when she came down off the violent high he held onto her while she cried. They’d been thick as thieves since.

Then there was Preston. He wasn’t family, not like Nick, but she trusted him, and had told him about the institute and Shaun (after Nick convinced her) and the vault. Preston and Sturges had organized the building of her teleporter, even though they all but begged her not to use it. He was honest, she couldn’t deny that, and loyal. But he asked far too much of her. She had no intention of being a General in his Minutemen. It was ludicrus to think he wanted her to watch over the entire commonwealth when at times she could barely take care of herself. He was just needy, she decided. He wasn’t someone she could let her guard down around, like Nick.

Silvia was closer to Sturges. He was… Gentle. Sweet in an old southern farm-boy kinda way that made her remember her first crush. He was kind and she felt that he should have never been born into this world. Sturges had tried once, not long after they’d met, to get close to her, but she was too closed off at that point; all the wounds were still open and festering and she’d rejected his weak advances.. with heartache. He took it well, was never anything more than a perfect gentleman. Now they were closer friends, they shared a drink whenever she was in Sanctuary; now that he understood where she came from, and she understood where he came from, they were almost friends. It made her smile.

Marcy hated dogs.. But she might love Floppy Dog. Silvia would consider the Longs as friends.. but she’d kept her past from them so far. As far as they knew she was just another wastelander. Like most of Sanctuary did. It was best if that was the case, best that she keep her connection to Vault-Tec and the Institute a secret for now.

What she couldn’t figure out was where Hancock fit into her life. He wasn’t a friend.. but he could be. She just didn’t know enough about him yet. And she wasn’t sure if she could trust him. It made things complicated. She’d gone without this kind of companionship so far, why did she cave in to Hancock’s advances so easily? Had she made advances of her own without realizing it? Probably.. He had an effect on her, like static on her skin..

She wondered if he felt the same. Probably.

So why was she considering leaving already? It’d crossed her mind in those few seconds between waking and sleeping just before she climbed out of bed; time to get the hell out of here.

She started mapping out her escape plan as she scrubbed the night’s excitement off.. but that’s all she was really doing, planning it out. She knew she wasn’t leaving yet. She didn’t want to, and it was that simple. Every instinct was telling her it was time to leave, though. Not easy to ignore after so long on high alert.

After rinsing off, toweling down and putting her clothes back in, Silvia opened the door to find Floppy laying with her chin on crossed paws in front of her. Big black puppy dog eyes looked up at Silvia and the woman couldn’t help but smile. She patted her chest and made a kissy face. “Com'mere, Floppy.. good girl. You waiting for me? I’m sorry I slept so long.” The dog had perched her front paws on Sil’s chest and was licking her clean chin happily, her thin tail swinging behind her.

Silvia pulled her attention away from the dog to find Deacon leaning cross-armed on the study door frame. He was the movement she’d see, it would seem; No one else was in the room behind him. He pulled a blue tennis ball from his back pocket and tossed it over. Floppy was excited, and bounced off Silvia to spin around on the floor expectantly.

“Where ya find it? I di-” Thought ended, Floppy jumped up and bounced her front paws against Silvia’s chest again. “Hold on hold on, let me find shoes and we’ll play, ok?”

She handed the dog her ball and went back to the double doors to her room, pulling them open. “Where’s the mayor?” She was trying to be casual…. she scooped up John’s shirt, hopefully before Deacon saw it, hoping she still looked 'casual’ doing so.

“Fahrenheit had guard duty and Hancock went with her. Said I could stick around til you woke up.”

He didn’t ask, just followed her into the room, clicking on a floor lamp as he stepped in.. when he saw the getup he whistled. She was blushing, so didn’t turn to face him… she headed to her backpack to unpack a few things. “Wow.. You got amazing taste, Bear.”

She laughed, pulling out little bundles of cloth; socks and clean panties, a fresh shirt and jeans.. her only clean pair, damn. “Not mine. But I agree, it’s something else. Like something out of.. of an old magazine or something, huh?” She glances over at Deacon as he dropped into the couch on the right of the room. “I was gonna change clothes you know..”

“Alright, I can wait.” He sat back, hands behind his head, grinning below his glasses.

Silvia gave him a searing look then sighed and left the room. She could hear Deacon laughing behind her. “Come on, I was kidding!” Click went the bathroom door.

Deacon was playing with the dog when she came back in clean clothes, rolling the ball across the floor and laughing as the canine skidded after to catch it. “Guess I’m not your type, huh?” He grinned at her briefly, then grabbed the ball of out Floppy’s mouth for another roll.

She shrugged. “The heart is fickle. And you’re married to your job.” she teased as she sat in the vanity chair to brush her hair.

“I am? She ever got me a ring!” She laughed.

“Must not be love, sorry brother.”

He chuckled and shrugged. “It never is, right?”

Well that brought her down a little, but her face was hidden in her hair so he didn’t catch on. She didn’t reply and the awkward silence stretched out for a few minutes.

“So, I got Hancock to agree to my proposal. We’ll be setting up operations and schedules over the next month.. I thought you might want to get reassigned to the new safehouse.” He pointed to the floor, she figured it was under the building somewhere.

“Reassigned.. here?” Her brush stopped so she could look at him.

“Yeah.. figured you were gonna spend a little time in Goodneighbor. I mean you look like you’re settling in just fine.”

“I.. I don’t intend on staying. Too much stuff to get done.” She reached over to flick on the radio and turned it down low. ’Unforgettable’ was playing. “Might head out in the morning.. another day at most. We got any work to do?”

“Hmm.. Nothing that hasn’t already been assigned. You’re clear here for at least a few days leave. And I bet you could use the break after your long trip. Why not stay here and relax? Heck if I had a bathtub in my room I’d never leave. But where is the rubber ducky?” He stood and went to lean over the bathtub, searching. Silvia smiled a little.

“Haven’t found one.. you’ll keep an eye out, right? No bathtub should be ducky-less!” That got a chuckle from the spy.

“I’ll check my contacts, see what I can do.” His voice echoed in the tub as he came back up and sat on the edge. “So, how many people does this thing fit?”

“How many.. How should I know? One?”

“We could find out.”

Silvia stopped brushing once more and looked at Deacon blankly.. he slid back and landed in the tub, butt first, grinning. “Wow.. I think we’d both fit!” He had his legs dangling over the side and his head bent at a strange angle.. but there was enough room beside him, closer to the faucet, for one more body.. Silvia started laughing again as Deacon tried to get himself out of the tub and ended up fully in it. He climbing back up onto hands and knees and out of the tub, knocking over the bubble bath bottle. Thank goodness the top was on. “Alright, changed my mind, this is too much work. Let’s just use the bed.”

“Deacon!” She laughed again.

He sat on the floor in front of the tub, beside Silvia’s feet, cross legged and looked up at his underling. “This really is nice, Silvia. Hancock must have spent a fortune.”

Floppy had been lying at Silvia’s feet watching Deacon.. she was a good distraction. Silvia laid down her brush and leaned to pet the dog, her face hidden in the wave of brushed black hair that fell over her shoulder. “Doubt he spent anything.. probably stole it all.”

He grabbed the bubble bath bottle and uprighted it. “Ya think? Maybe…”

“You know somethin’ I don’t, Deacon. What?”

“Huh? I know as much as you know, Black Bear.” Alright, maybe a little more.

Silvia glanced over.. but his face was hard to read, as always, so she didn’t push. “Maybe he’ll let you use the room when I’m gone.”

“Why would you leave?”

Now she looked at him straight on, trying desperately to read his face. He wasn’t giving anything away.

“I’m just sayin’.. It’s not so bad in Goodneighbor. And Hancock’s not that hard to get along with. Why would you leave?”

“I’ve got no intentions of settling down anywhere right now.” She was being defensive.. he’d kinda pushed it on her. “Too many places to be for me to sit in one place long. Besides, I get boring after a while. Or I bring trouble. Neither are fun.”

He shook his head. “Neither are really true. Trouble’s always out there, and you’re more fun than you let on.”

“Well if trouble is always out there, I better be out there to find it, huh?” She left the dog alone and turned back to the radio, flipping channels.

“Oh, almost forgot, I think someone’s lookin’ for ya.” He pointed to the radio. “end of the dial somewhere. Something about Nick Valentine.”

“Nick?” She wasted no time in hunting down the channel. Ellie’s voice spoke in loop, saying Nick’s partner was needed. Silvia smiled a little. “See.. always something. I’ll have to go check on them.”

“Suppose so. Want me to tag along?”

“Nah.. I’ll go alone. But not tonight. Was there any of that stew left? I’m starving.”

“Yeah, Hancock had some of it set aside for you.. some bread and something called Tato Salad. Doesn’t look like any salad I’ve ever seen.”

She laughed. “I think it’s one of Daisy’s recipes from before the war. You try any?”

“Er.. not yet. Looks like… No, I’m not gonna say it, you’ll lose your appetite.”

“Thanks for sparing me.” She smiled a little. “Where is it?”

“Hold on I’ll go grab it.” As Deacon stood the dog did too, following behind him. huh..

Silvia stayed in the chair and turned around to look in the mirror. She pulled her hair out of her face and grabbed a rubber band off the table to hold it all back. It was time to cut it again. She’d let it grow past her shoulders and over her shoulder blades knowing there was a greater risk of it getting caught in something like this. Still, she felt almost.. pretty.. having her hair long. And being clean.

Deacon came back with a cut-down wooden tray, looked like it used to be a crate, dog still in tow. There was a soup pot and a round loaf of bread and a bowl of something mushy and yellow with chunks of white and green in it. Silvia was trying to hide her giddiness, ready to try the modern version of one of her favorite comfort foods.

“He left you a couple nuka-colas but I know you don’t like 'em.. so.. I drank them. Hope you don’t mind?”

“Of course not. Gonna eat with me?” She nodded to the try he placed on the table by the couch. “I’m sure there is enough.” She stood to take over the couch with a little flop, surprised as hell the dust didn’t fly up around her.

“Can’t stay, things to see, people to do, you know the drill. Oh.. speaking of doing people, I forgot to tell you something.”

Silvia was opening the pot when she glanced over, suspicious. “What?”

“Rooster is gonna be your new partner here on out.”

She dropped the lid back on the pot and glared at him. “I don’t need a bloody partner, Deacon. I do fine on my own and you know it.”

“Relax! Calm down! You don’t gotta use him if you don’t need him.. Of course I got the impression he wants to be used…”

Sometimes she couldn’t handle Deacon’s brand of humor, and this was one of those times. “Are you going to keep making sex jokes til I tell you all the juicy details?” a black brow rose. She was keeping her calm but he was really.. really annoying sometimes.

“Well…”

She cut him off. “We spent the night together, we had lots of sex, it was great, I’d do it again, but that’s it. I’m not 'dating’ him or anyone else and I’m not staying in Goodneighbor! And he’s not going to be my partner.. what the hell were you thinking?”

“I was thinking he’d watch your ass better than most?”

“Deacon!”

“Alright alright! Look, it was part of the deal. He wanted to come in as a full agent, and me and 'De have been tossing around the idea for a while now, just waiting for him to show interest. He’s got a reputation as a serious scrapper.. and I hear he’s a demon with a shotgun. Plus he can keep secrets. And you’re my only heavy with a slot op-. er.. I mean I haven’t assigned you a partner yet.”

“Was I part of the deal, Deacon?” She asked calmly.

“What? No! Of course not! I would never, ever.. He doesn’t even know I’m assigning him to you. if you wanna wait til I find someone else, then just don’t take him out with you. But.. If you could just let him tag along on a couple of drops or a clean up mission… teach him the ropes.. You’d be doing me a huge favor.”

“A favor, huh? One you’d have to pay back, I expect?” She had started to smile. Silvia grabbed up the loaf of bread and pulled it apart, giving it an experimental sniff. Well yeast was still a thing, at least. Mutant yeast, this was strong. Maybe someone just didn’t know how to use it. Razorgrain was always too bitter for her, but this wasn’t so bad. Needed butter. She ripped off a little chunk and tossed it to the dog, who sniffed it curiously before gingerly eating it.

“Yeah, alright, ’I’ll owe you one.’” He sighed over-dramatically.

“And all I gotta do is take him on a couple of simple ops. My choosing? And you hand him off as soon as you find someone?”

“You really don’t want to do this, do you?”

“Do you really care what I want, Deacon?” She sounded serious, but didn’t raise her eyes to him. She was poking at the tato salad with a fork, deciding if it would do her memories justice.. or destroy them utterly.

“Actually.. I do.”

Silvia raised her eyes to the spy. He wasn’t being cute now. Sure he looked goofy, but it was all exterior, so she gave him her full attention.

“Stop.. staring at me like that. I’m just saying I do give a shit. If you don’t want to take him, I will trade off Glory’s new second for Rooster. You can take Pigeon. You already know him. I’m sure Glory will just kick the mayor’s ass if he gets too fresh.” He cracked a little smile. “Course if he got fresh with-”

“Are you going to keep making jokes about my love life?” Silvia asked, exhausted.

“Is it love?”

“….” Silvia stopped herself from replying and looked at Deacon, thinking.

Deacon was patient, watching her mull it over. She’d always been like this, thinking way too much before speaking.. probably why she just didn’t talk much if she could help it.

At last she breathed out through her nose, her eyes downcast. Nick would understand. She shrugged “Reply hazy, ask again later”

Deacon’s brow raised above his sunglasses. “Huh?”

She laughed and shook her head, grabbing a scoop of tato salad with a spoon that’d been left on the tray, atop a napkin. “You’ve never heard that one? Huh.. but that’s what I said, nonetheless.”

Silvia dared.. she dared to eat the tato salad! And she was rewarded, because someone in this blasted wasteland understood what mayonnaise once was and how to make it! Daisey always said she was once a wonderful cook.

“Well does this mean you’ll keep Ro-”

“Holy gobstoppers just shoot me now so I can die happy.” She mumbled around the Tato Salad as she scooped up another bite. “You have to try this!”

Deacon welcomed the distraction, but she was still talking gibberish. “Silvia.. that’s not salad, we talked about this.” But he kneeled down and picked up the fork that was left over and stabbed a white tato chunk. Silvia watched as she ate another bite.

He stuffed the chunk in his mouth.. chewed a little. Then looked at his fork as if it had insulted his grandmother. “……..” He stabbed the fork in again and shoveled another bite into his mouth

Silvia nearly lost her bite, covered her mouth with her hand and laughed through her nose.

“We have to mass produce this and sell it in Diamond city, we’ll make a fortune, people will come from all over the Commonwealth to try tato.. goop.”

“Salad!” She laughed.

“We’ll think of something.” He stuffed another bite in his mouth.

“You work on that. I’ll be too busy showing Rooster the ropes.”

“And the favor?” His expression was as hard to read as ever.. he probably knew things would turn out like this.

“I’ll hold onto it til I need it.” She grinned, then went back to the tato salad. Deacon had started poking into the stew and she wasn’t gonna stop them. Floppy got her own plate of food, a little big of everything, and when they finished eating Deacon left and Silvia went downstairs to take Floppy out into the early morning air.

Hancock hadn’t returned yet, but Silvia wasn’t worried.. it was his town, how far away could he really be?

Chapter Text

When Silvia returned from her walk around Goodneighbor with Floppy Dog the place was alive. The sun was up, the stores open and the guards were changing to the afternoon shift. She waved to Daisy, who was smoking a cigarette as she swept her open doorway, and went on into the old State House, Floppy right there with her.

She headed up the spiral stairs, the guards stationed around giving her nods and smiles and doing their jobs, as always.

Silvia found Hancock alone in his study, laid out on his back on the couch, his hat over his face and his boots up on the arm rest. She stopped at the door, thinking he might be sleeping, and it was best to let sleeping dogs lie.. right? But he was so handsome, his coat tail hanging off the edge of the couch, his white shirt unbuttoned at the top. She found herself staring. Hancock lifted the corner of his hat to see who's footsteps he heard and a grin spread instantly across his thin lips.

"Mornin', Sunshine." He sat up, stuck his hat on his head and patted the seat beside him. "You get somethin' to eat or that mooch Deacon take it all?"

"I.. Uh.. Yeah, it was good. He stole a little." His smile was infectious; She had to look away.. why did he make her blush every single time he looked at her? He wasn't even trying right now. After of moment of his patient stare she took his offer on the couch, scooted against the far arm rest with a leg tucked under her. Floppy laid down on the floor beside her quietly, watching the two humans. Silvia was being quiet too, not sure what to say to the mayor.

"Figures. He kept going after the stew, I didn't think there'd be any left. You sleep alright, darlin'?" He reached out a hand to touch hers, trying to catch her eyes, his body shifted sideways so he was facing her. She was being difficult, she was being shy.. and while he loved it on her, he wanted to see those pretty greys again. So he finally leaned toward her, resting one palm on the cushion between them, reached out and lifted her chin gently with his fingertips. She was looking at him now, and he gazed into those hypnotic alien eyes for a moment.. before kissing her lips, petal soft.

These kisses made her drunk.. she let her eyes flutter closed and murred a happy little sound against his mouth. He took it as an invitation and brought his body up to hers, propped on a knee, pressing into her with his hand on the armrest. His lips parted and she could feel his warm breath, her tongue touched his thin lips, hesitating. He wasn't going to let her back out, his mouth took hers and his body held her against the couch. One of his nimble hands was brushing the hair back from her craned neck so he could pull her in closer when she ducked away from his lips, breathless, glassy eyed.. but trying to regain control. He stopped.. she looked like that radstag right before he'd shot..

"Fuck.." The ghoul dropped back into the couch, sitting beside the prettiest scavver the wasteland had to offering.. he knew what the problem was. Hancock tried to laugh.. it was weak, this would be hard.

"I get ya, sunshine. Nobody wants to wake up next to this ugly mug. We'll just write this one off as a lapse in judgement. The jet made you do it." He winked and stuffed a hand into a pocket of his red frock coat.

She sat watching through messy black hair as he played this off.. the word bubbled up and she spat it at him like venom. "Bullshit." It was anger.. half at herself for even planning to end this, half at him for guessing the wrong reason.

He laughed and shrugged. His fingers wrapped around a little red vial and he pulled it out, fiddling with the 'freshness seal' on the centuries old bottle. "Wouldn't be the first time." He glanced over, seeing the anger rise in her cool grey eyes.. Oh she was beautiful when she was mad. "No hard feelings, darlin. We both knew wha-"

He didn't have a chance to finish the words. She all but lunged across the couch to pin him down, straddling his narrow hips, fingers gripping his shoulders. He dropped the bottle of jet somewhere between the old dusty cushions and stared up at her. He had no intention of fighting back. She hissed out the words. "Stop that" He didn't move.

"You gotta have a reason, doll.. and that's typically the reason." She could feel his voice as it rumbled from his throat.

"No.. Damn it, John.. you really are clueless. That was never the reason. Never could be." Grey orbs searched his, hopeful he saw the truth in her words. His cool smile and calm eyes couldn't hide the relief. His whole body relaxed under her.

"The timing's just bad... I wish we had met before." She lowered her eyes, the faint words almost stolen by the ruffle of her clothing.

Before? Before I was a radioactive mess? He just grunted. "Hey.. I'm here now.." He tilted his head, trying to catch her eyes, staying still otherwise. There was quiet. He could see the gears turning, and he let them turn til at last she lifted her eyes to his.

She let it all out in a shaking breath, her body trembling in his arms. He could smell it on her.. fear. It made her voice shake, kept her from focusing on him, "There are people watching me.. people who want me dead, who want me alive, people who want me to themselves." She sounded.. ashamed? "I'm not safe.. ever.. and no one around me is safe. You are not safe!" Her pale eyes had that shine in them, but this time, it really was tears. "It doesn't matter what I want. John I can't stand the thought if someone taking you away."

Onxy orbs took in her fearful face and he wanted nothing more than to rip limb from limb the persons responsible for the way she shook. "I told you, sunshine. They can try, but I'm not that easy to kill." He rested his hands on her thighs, holding her gaze. She looked so frustrated and he frowned. "I know what I'm getting myself into.. and I got no plans of backing out without a serious brawl. So let 'em come, Silvie."

She wanted to give in and kiss his lips and touch his face and feel his arms around her one more time.. she fought it, conflict bubbling up inside her.

He knew that look by now, and he wasn't going to let her decide to run off again. His arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her up against him. She didn't fight it at all. Her chest laid flush against his and her cheek rested on his shoulder. Hancock ran rough fingers back through her hair soothingly, kissing her temple now and then. She felt his whisper blow against her ear as a little sigh. "I wish you could just trust me.."

"I do.. I swear I do. But you can't trust me."

He was quiet again, stroking her silky hair and down her back with gentle fingers. That made more sense than anything she'd said so far.. he let out a little grumble. "Is it really that serious?"

"Yeah.. it is.."

"Is this like Deacons super-spy secret-agent shit?"

She laughed, he held her tighter. "Something like that."

He kissed her ear, tilting his head to do so.. his lips lingered a little too long and she could feel his warm breath on her neck. "Fuck.. maybe you should get off my lap before someone sees." There was no signs of him releasing her small body. His lips roamed down her neck to her shoulder and kissed again.

"That's what I was trying to tell ya..." She sighed, losing her train of thought. Her shoulder dropping to give him more room, body rolling smoothly against his. Her hands had left his shoulders and moved down his chest to his stomach, then back up his sides, up under his coat.

His lips closed around the soft expanse of flesh between her neck and shoulder, he bit and tugged and lapped with his tongue, his heavy groan rattling deep in his chest. It left her gasping for air, her answering moans hitting tiny crescendos with every suck from his greedy mouth.

"John.. No..." She whimpered between panting for breath. He laughed; she lavished in the sound.

His lips pulled from her now ruined flesh with a wet smack. "Mmm John, yes.." he rumbled. Rough fingers lifted her chin so his eyes could take in the red welt on her soft pale neck.. it matched the red of her cheeks. "I'm not scared, baby.. Nothin's keeping me from you." He kissed the mark, then up her neck and chin to her mouth.

"Even if-"

"Even if the Brotherhood brings their flying boat down on us.. Even if the Institute sends an army of synths at us." He pulled off his hat and dropped it on the couch beside them. Now his hands were roaming her hips and thighs as he spoke. She loved it when he got passionate like this. He ate the attention up. "Even if every Gunner between us and Sanctuary comes hunting.. well none of them fuckers has any idea what I'm capable of! Deathclaws? Bring em. Enclave? They don't stand a chance!"

Silvia giggled.

Hancock deflated.

"You really just see right through me, don't ya?"

"Well.. yeah. Doesn't everyone?"

"No.... In fact.. No! What the hell, woman?"

She was just laughing now. "Don't get mad! I think it's adorable!"

"Well that proves it's just you, no one else thinks I'm adorable." He flicked a strand of hair out of her face.

"Good.. I might get jealous." She leaned her body against his and let her arms lay across his shoulders and the back of the couch. She was just as needy as he was when it came to kisses, and her soft lips locked against his greedily.

This was easy.. this they could both do, and intended to do for a while longer. The wasteland could wait, the Railroad could wait, Goodneighbor could wait. Maybe the universe would let them be together for just a little while.

Chapter Text

Six Silver Bullets. Much like Ring Around the Rosy, created as a reminder of the dangers of contracting the plague. Six Silver Bullets was created in the wake of a major life changing event. Namely, the introduction of Synths as a threat to the normal people of the commonwealth. Six Silver Bullets can take many forms (Game, song, dance, invitation, exam and sometimes done undetected.. single player mode, as Deacon would call it), but comes down to a line of somewhat intimate questioning on topics very mundane, such as past events, favorite foods or drinks, secrets behind scars, etc. You can ask more than 6 questions, of course, but the idea is to elicit 6 'silver bullets' of information that might someday save you from a synth replacement. To this extent, it's fine to ask an old question, to see if the new answer matches.

A silver bullet refers to a piece of information believed to be unknown to the general population, and hopefully undetected by whatever process is used to duplicate and replace a person entirely.

Everyone has their own version of the game; Children often use the game as a way to mock each other about trivial incidents and secrets. Raiders play extensively, often while drunk. Bartenders play their own version on the easy to manipulate, often the weak information gleaned is traded or bartered. Information can be like caps to some people. For lovers, this game takes a more intimate form, of course.

Taking whatever enjoyment can be had from the game is encouraged. After all, it's still just a game.

Silvia played 20 questions with small groups in barely lit rooms when she was a teen girl. She remembers the smoke in the air and the people sitting in a circle playing spin the bottle or truth or dare.. she never could muster the nerve to join in the more intimate games.. but this seemed safe enough. It was an odd evolution, to be sure. But from how he explained it, it had it's place in the Commonwealth.

Hancock was explaining the rules as he'd known them; very simple. He and Silvia still sat on the couch of his study, her straddling his lap. And so they'd been since just after noon, sharing a bottle of something fruity that made her head swim in all the right ways, fiddling with clothing, stealing it away when convenient. They'd whittled away the time in quiet conversation; Silvia let him do most of the talking. He'd told her about his past with Vic, how the town was swiped out from under him.. how he'd left Vic hanging off the balcony for two days as a reminder to anyone who wanted to challenge him. Silvia seemed to take it all in stride. No horror in her eyes.. It was unnerving at first, but he was starting to enjoy the honesty he saw there.

They both found the full body contact comfortable.. and comforting. He was able to touch her hips and sides and neck. She was able to watch his face when he spoke... and those big grey eyes never left his. He was a sucker for adoration. For her adoration. Standing out on the balcony, speaking great words to his people gave him a high unlike any other, but this.. she wasn't just listening to fancy words, she was listening to him, and he was sure he was blushing under her scrutiny.

Silvia was enjoying the pink that touched his scarred cheeks. It was an odd ruddy mess, scattered darker and lighter over his uneven flesh. She was having a hard time holding back the need to kiss him, but she dare not draw attention to it, or interrupt his explanation of the game.

She'd missed half of it; blamed it on his eyes, they were all but hypnotic.

"You've really never played this?"

She shrugged. "Yeah. Never heard of it.. but sounds fun."

So this was her first time playing? With him. It made him smile. And it was a bullet for Hancock, but she didn't know that. He hid it away and continued. "So. Real easy. We ask each other questions and answer honest or not at all. No lies."

"How many questions? What kind? Does this one count?"

Amusement rumbled in his chest, thin lips pulled into a lazy smile. "It doesn't matter how many questions, long as you get six solid answers."

"That's it? Who taught you to play this?"

He grunted, thinking.. then shrugged. "Can't remember, honestly... but I think you're gettin' the idea. Try again."

"Have you ever played spin the bottle?" She had gotten very quiet and her eyes wandered away from his.

He laughed, hands squeezing her thighs. "Who hasn't? Lots when I was a lad. You?"

She shook her head. Had to be honest, right? "Never could get the nerve up."

"That's a shame.. some fellas really missed out.." He wanted to kiss her.. they were both trying to control themselves. This was something neither of them wanted to ruin.

"Some fella just like you, huh? Stealing kisses from all the girls." she cracked a smile and nudged his cheek with her nose as she laid her head on his shoulder. He was so very warm.

"That's not a question, darlin'," He couldn't stop touching her hair.

"Alright, how many girls have you kissed?"

He grinned at the tone she took. Savored the touch of jealousy. "You know that's not really how the game works."

"Oh? Why?"

"Cause I got a reputation for chasing skirts, everyone already knows."

She tilted her head back up to look at him.. then laughed. "I've heard, but you said you had to tell the truth.. so...?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. She was being persistent. "I've kissed a lotta girls, Silvie.. Not so many since I turned ghoul, but there was a time." He shrugged. "What about you? How many girls you kissed?"

Her cheeks and nose turned red, but she didn't look away from him.. good girl.

"None!" She made a face at him, tongue sticking out.

He laughed, hands raising to her cheeks to give them a squeeze, forcing her tongue to stay sticking out. "Alright fine, how many boys you kissed?"

"ah-pffft"

He let go, chuckling.

"I mean one." She scrunched her nose at him and batted his hands away. He, however, was stunned into stillness.

"Just one?" He was giving her a very odd look and she wondered if maybe she'd soaked up too many rads and was growing an extra limb. "No fuckin' way. Damn.. I know guys who woulda stolen you away raider style to have a taste of those lips."

He was laughing at her inexperience.. it should have been obvious from the bumps and bruises of the night before. She might have used her teeth.. she wasn't really sure what constituted as too much teeth when giving oral, but he'd not complained. He wasn't now, she surmised, he was just being playful.

He must have seen the insecurities she harbored because his arms folded around her once more and she soaked up his warmth.. after a moment she let out of sigh and relaxed.

"I didn't know this was so new to you, baby.. I'd have never pushed so hard.." His voice was at her ear and vibrating through her chest.. so soothing.

"It's not new.. well some of it was..." She whispered. He showed no sign of releasing her.

They stayed quiet. There was movement outside in the hall, people coming and going as always. Fahra would be back soon for patrol changeover, and they'd talked about going downstairs for something to eat when she got back.. can't fall asleep. Even though an afternoon nap in the mayor's arms sounded so very appealing.

"I got one." She said at long last. "Ever have any pets?" Her head rose and she looked back to Floppy, who raised her head. Poor girl had been locked in the state house for a few hours and was getting bored.

"Pets? Nah. Who's got time for pets?" He poked her side, she giggled, eyes drawn to him once more.

"None? No puppy or kittens? Or a hamster?"

"What the hell is a hamster?"

She laughed. "It's.. it's like a really tiny molerat with hair."

He gave her an odd look. "Did you have a hamster?"

She nodded and blushed. "Her name was Muffin."

He laughed and kissed her forehead. "That is freaking adorable. Any other pets?"

"My mother had birds.. I hated em. Little grey finches that never shut up."

"Finches? Silvia..?"

"Hmm?" She kissed his chest. The coat was over the back of the couch somewhere and his white button up was undone to the waist. When had that happened?

"Where did you grow up?" He sounded a little more serious.

She considered her answer for a moment.. then shrugged. "Further south. Really far south."

"South only goes so far."

"Yeah, but you'd have no idea where I was talking about if I told you, it's that far south." She kissed his chin.

John sighed and shook his head. "That's not how you play.. but alright, it's your turn."

He was willing to let it go this time, but she knew it wouldn't be long before he asked again. And maybe she wanted to tell him... "Kentucky."

"Um.. where's that?"

She laughed and leaned up to catch his lips in a little kiss. "Told ya."

"Fine, then I get another one. What's your last name?"

"I don't have one." She was too quick on the reply, it made him hesitate.

"..... bullshit"

She laughed again.. He loved that sound. "You said I couldn't lie, re-"

There was a bang that rattled the double doors. Silvia looked up, surprised, then back to Hancock. The banging didn't stop.

He kissed her forehead again as she climbed off of him. Hancock stood and buttoned up his shirt, "Hold on, damn it!" He gruffed. The banging didn't stop.

Hancock threw open the doors of his study. "What!?" He barked.

"Mutants, boss. Spotted some moving into the towers west of us. Swarm of the fuckers, and they're getting really close to Goodneighbor." The ghoul who'd come to get Hancock sounded out of breath.. he might have been the spotter.

"Damn it.. Alright, get Wyatt, Stokes and Salvador. And find Fahrenheit."

"Stokes is in Diamond City, visiting that Kelly girl."

"Damn it! Then find me another sharp shooter!" He slammed the doors and hunted down his coat behind the couch.

"Sorry, darlin'. Play time's over. Where's my fuckin' boot.."

Silvia tossed it over the couch to him, along with his untied flag. Hancock re-dressed quickly and grabbed his weapon while Silvia did the same in her room, strapping on holsters and armor and sticking weapons in them. She pulled an ammo strap around her waist and shouldered Boris, then balled her hair up on top of her head and pulled a black knit cap over it.

Hancock was rushing down the spiral stairs when Silvia stepped out. She followed him down and out the front door, a little group having gathered around it.

"Talbot? How many muties?" He asked the ghoul who'd disturbed them as he descended the stone steps.

"Counted 14 before the green started to run together.. I'm gonna guess twenty." He was loading his handgun and two other ghouls had rounded the building with Fahra leading them.

"You find me another sharp shooter?" Hancock was stuffing shells into his shotgun.

Silvia waved a hand to Talbot and swung her rifle around so he could see it. The guard didn't look pleased.

"Um... Yeah. I think so, boss." He sounded unsure and Hancock picked up on it, raising his eyes. Talbot the ghoul pointed behind the mayor to the dark haired sniper.

He turned around, the words grinding out. "No. Not gonna happen"

She crossed her arms defiantly but before she could speak he'd spoke again. "You're staying here, Silvie."

"Don't give me that bullshit. You need a sniper and I've already proven I can do it." Anger touched her voice, and maybe betrayal.. maybe John was imagining it, but he regretted underestimating her nonetheless.

He let out a sigh and raised a hand; no time to apologize. "Fine. You're with Wyatt and Salvador. Fahra, Talbot with me. Scarlet and Charlot can watch the front gates. Lil," He pointed to a small creature with red eyes and ratty brown hair who'd been watching from the corner of Kill Or Be Killed. The girl couldn't have been more than 16 and was obviously a full blown Nuka Cola addict. "Get everyone inside, then help the twins." She scurried off like the rat she resembled.

Daisy had come out with a rifle and KL.O.E. had gone to secure the other side of town, something she could do on her own without the threat of gates.

They left the city and split up, heading west on either side of the tower. It was only a block out, and now that they were past the barricades, it was easy to see the pack of mutants scouring the building a few floors up. They'd scaled quickly. Silvia was counting as she hurried along the debris littered corridors of Boston.. ten above she could see.. three more atop one of the adjoining brick shops. Likely the same on the ground.

Hancock glanced across the rubble to Silvia once or twice, but she was in battle mode. And he was being an over cautious idiot. If anyone could hold her own, it was the Silver Shroud. And she looked pretty damn good doing it. Not now, idiot. The two groups spread further apart and lost sight of each other.

Salvador huddled up against an overturned car and waved Wyatt and Silvia closer. There were heavy steps nearby, crunching rubble loudly.

Silvia held up a finger, volunteering, and the other two nodded. She lifted for just a second to get the lay of the land. Three muties and an ugly drooling dog. No flashing lights, thank goodness; She really didn't want to start the party yet. Silvia only spent a second looking, then came back down, automatically clicking safeties and power switches on Boris. The sleekly modded semi-auto sniper rifle fit snugly against Silvia's shoulder and she raised up, let out a breath, hold.. snap. Eeny. She breathed out.. hold, snap. Meeni.., breath, hold, snap. Miny.. Breath, hold, snap. "Clear" She looked back to the other two, who moved quickly past the four dropped bodies. They'd fallen so quickly none of them had a chance to really react, just look at each other in bewilderment. The dog hadn't even stopped walking. Now they all lay dead, blood oozing from head wounds on each.

As her unit moved forward Silvia scanned the debris field for movement. Salvador backing up against a half-wall and Wyatt crouched beside a dumpster that'd been smashed into it. The grey eyed sniper waited for the signal and rushed to catch up, scanning the waste. She saw the billow of red on the next street over and hoped John was doing as well.

Hancock's sniper wasn't quite as lucky. He'd hit the first two, but missing the third had cost them. The boom of his shotgun rang out and that was the end. A wall of green came down upon them from the roof of the building beside them, there was the steady beep of a bomber coming down the road in front of them. Hancock reloaded as fast as he could, Fahra unloaded a spray of machine gun bullets and Talbot picked off the mutie furthest from their little group in a panic.

A few clicks later there was silence. Hancock looked over the bodies as Fahra reloaded her gun. Talbot was breathing heavy behind a fallen wall and Hancock startled him with a whistle. "Move it, hot shot. Flood gates are open, brother."

Hancock's group picked their way into the lower levels of the high rise expecting a massive defense. Instead they were greeted by Silvia's rifle. Thankfully the woman didn't fire.

Salvador was leaned up against a wall, his arm limp and blood covering his body, seeping from a rip in his shoulder. The hound that'd attacked him was dead beside him., along with two more mutants. Wyatt was trying to tie the wound off but the blood didn't seem to slow.

"Alright, Talbot get Sal back to Goodneighbor. Fahra take point, Silvia in the back." No one argued, Talbot hurried to Salvador and hauled him to his feet, ignoring the protests. Silvia was behind them as they left, covering their path through her scope.

Fahrenheit had started up the stairs circling the center of the tower, her modified machine gun hanging from her back, a hand gun raised before her. Hancock close behind. Wyatt followed, on alert. The deep rage filled yell from above made the whole group duck down and wait.

"What's your count?" Hancock looked back to Wyatt.

"Nine. Yours?"

"Five. Should only be a couple left."

Silvia had taken up the back, standing close to Wyatt as she followed them to the second floor, then the third. "Shit..." She hissed as she peeked over the railing to sweep the ground floor once more. "They got backup. I'm going back down."

"The fuck you are." Hancock spat, glaring back. Fahra grunted.

"Now's not the time, boss. Silvia, go. Catch up when you're done." Fahrenheit ordered. Silvia nodded and scurried silently back down the stairs.

Both women ignored Hancock's displeased look.

The three continued up the stairs and somehow Hancock was able to focus on the job. They came to the third floor, mostly out of commission, and acceded on to the fourth. From below they all heard a scuffle and yells that seemed to go on far too long before all was silent once more.

John peeked over the railing again but found nothing, not even the bodies.

Wyatt brushed past him, smacking his shoulder. "Let's just finish this, boss." He said harshly.

Hancock set his jaw and continued upwards.

Fahra's pistol rang out at the front as they reached the sixth floor. She fell back onto the stairs, Wyatt barely catching her before she tumbled downwards. Hancock stepped past the two and fired a shell into one mutant's ugly face, then into his stomach. The mutant didn't seem stunned. He barreled forward, massive mitts grabbing for the mayor's head.

There was a spray of red goo from the mutant's eye and the beast went rolling down the stairs, thumped against the railing at the bottom beside Silvia.

She smiled just a little as Hancock looked back. "Done arguing now?" She asked softly.

"Fine, I'll make it up to you later." No time to flirt! All attention was pulled back to the moment when massive stomping footprints rushed towards them from a dark hallway.

Silvia climbed the last flight of stairs. Hancock quickly reloaded as Fahra emptied her handgun into the mutant's chest. It wasn't even bleeding.

"Noone smashes SMASH!" It bellowed and swung a dark object at the group. A hammer. A huge hammer that broke through the concrete railing of the stairs and smashed into a support beam, sending stone and dust flying.

Fahra crawled away in the dust and Hancock stumbled further down the stairs. Wyatt was left on the steps just under the mutant, cowering low with wide eyes.

All at once Hancock unloaded his shotgun into the mutant's chest and Silvia set aim, a volley of shots zipping through it's shoulders and torso. The beast grunted and stumbled back away from the stairs. At last it was bleeding. Fahra unloaded her machine gun into it's back and there was another yell of pain from the mutant.

John was scrambling to reload and Wyatt was raising up to attack with a pair of 10mm pistols. The tat tat of shots rang in Silvia's ears, then another bellow from the mutant.

All they'd done was make it mad.

Silvia dropped her rifle and reached into a pocket of her armor. All Hancock saw was a toy gun, but Silvia looked quite serious. "Ready?"

"But..."

"Ready??"

"Yeah."

They hurried up the stairs and opened fire on the brute. Hancock let off two shots, pushing the beast back a couple of steps. Silvia's little toy gun zapped out blue-white light that crashed like lightening over the mutant. Skin bubbled and cracked. The body hissed as flesh and bone was reduced to a pile of carbon.

Then there was silence.

Hancock looked at the pile of ash, dumbstruck. Fahra stared at Silvia. Wyatt was the only one with the sense to check the hallways and peek his head back downstairs. "Boss?"

All three turned to look at the ghoul. Wyatt waved a pistol, smiling. "I think that's all of 'em!"

Fahrenheit dropped to the floor, her gun fell with a clank and she took a deep breath.

Hancock started laughing.

Silvia just looked at him, one dark brow raised.

"I knew it." Was he.. giggling?

"She's not a fuckin' alien, you idiot. Silvia tell him you're not an alien." Fahra said tiredly.

"What?" Grey eyes looked between the two. "Of course I'm not an alien!" She couldn't help but laugh. The gun was placed back in it's harness under an armor plate against her back. "I'm the Silver Shroud." She didn't miss a beat.

John laughed again. "'Course you are, darlin'." His arm slipped round her waist and pulled her in for a kiss, one she happily returned.. but only for a second or two.

"Not done, Mayor. I'll take Wyatt and sweep the back streets. You clear the tower?" She asked.

"Yeah. Sure." He was still smiling, but let her go.

-------------------

"Well no the tower isn't viable, but there's two warehouses behind Goodneighbor that I know are structurally sound buildings with lots of space. You could clean those out couldn't you?"

"You know I could... hmm... Shame the tower so trashed, though." John replied to Silvia's suggestion after some consideration.

"Would still make one hell of a lookout. And if we can get some of those shops cleared it'd be easier to defend the whole city." Wyatt agreed

"Do we really want a bigger Goodneighbor? It's hard enough to keep the streets clean as it is."

"Yeah.. I think we do want a bigger Goodneighbor. I got too many mooches in my attic.. maybe it's time we moved em into their own places. If they're willing to work for it." Hancock looked to Fahra, waiting for another aversion to the plan. She wasn't taking the bait.

Silvia gave Fahra an apologetic shrug, going silent.

"Maybe a couple of buildings along the back borders." Fahrenheit finally admitted. "We could get 4 floors off the bank.. and might have room for a casino in that office complex on South Av."

Hancock clapped his second-in-command on the shoulder. "Now you're talkin'! Why didn't I think of that?"

"Cause you do your thinking with your dick." She said evenly. It got a laugh from both Silvia and Wyatt.

The group had cleared the tower and the streets around it, and the gates of Goodneighbor were in sight just ahead. There'd been nothing left of the super mutant band after Smash fell. Now the sun was slipping past the curve of the earth, the sky lit up in purples and greens, split by the bright red neon of the Goodneighbor sign.

Wyatt was up front.. Silvia and John in the back, holding hands like little kids.. thankfully Fahrenheit was in front of them and couldn't stare.

They were greeted at the gate by Scarlet and Charlot's rifles and a stammering Daisy. "Anybody else hurt?" She rushed out the gates to meet them.

"We're fine. What happened to Sal and Talbot?" Silvia asked from the back.

"Sal's getting patched up, Talbot's with him. None of you are hurt?" She grabbed Wyatt first, looking over the ghoul, then past him at Fahra, concerned. She stopped at Silvia and Hancock and stared. Silvia blushed and gave her a serious look. Hancock refused to let her hand go. The old woman looked away quickly. "Good. Good. Get inside, it's late. Go on." She waved the four in like a mother goose.

In the rush of people and questions Silvia had slipped away, but no one really noticed for some time. John had to re-organize the guard for the night to cover Salvador. Fahra was recounting numbers to the twins and Daisy. Someone brought them bowls of tatos and meat and bottles of water and they'd sat out in front of Kill or be Killed eating and retelling the fight. The alien gun came up.. and that's when Silvia was missed.

John dismissed himself and entered the State House, climbing the creaky old stairs quietly. Most of the guards were outside, the building was quiet and felt empty. But he had a good idea of where she'd gone.

The doors to her room rattled a little as they closed. It was dark, but as his eyes adjusted he could make out the lines of furniture, of clothing piled on the floor and a figured stretched out across the bed.

She laid there in nothing but her shirt and panties, floppy dog curled up against the back of her legs and no blanket to cover her. She was asleep. He stepped closer to look at her.. then started removing his jacket and hat.

Moments later he crawled in behind her, spooned up against her back and laid his hand on her hip. Floppy moved enough to give him room, but wouldn't leave. No matter, he had the same idea as her... sleep.

She made the cutest little sound and snuggled back against him.

He drifted off soon after, her scent and warmth relaxing him into restful slumber.

----------------------

Chapter Text

"Ghost."

"No."

"Killer." He offered

"No!"

Snickers. "Oh call him Tornado!"

"Hancock she's a girl..." she whines.

"Tornado is a girl's name. What about Tiger... with a y..."

"Tyger?" She stopped in the rubble and grime of Boston's streets to consider that one.

He kept walking, glancing back when her steps ceased. A smile creased the ghoul's thin lips. He readjusted the shotgun cradled in his arm and continued on over the buried remains of an old car or three, carefully picking his way past rusted metal.

Mayor Hancock's scarred hand gripped and held a long black trench coat that covered fairly normal clothes; t shirt and jeans and old black boots. There was a scooped front fedora on his head that was made for covering the face, she thought.

His voice carried back easily in the quiet. Thick and rumbling and soothing in it's own way. She picked up her steps to catch up with him.

"Tyger Tyger, burning bright in the forests of the night, what immortal hand or eye could frame thy fearful symmetry.." His gravel and glue voice echoed on brick walls and steel beams, drawing a thin smile on her chapped lips

Silvia glanced back to the dog they'd been trying to name.. well who Hancock had been trying to name. He insisted Floppy Dog wasn't a good pet name, despite the logical protest on Silvia's part; Hancock had never had a pet.

"In what distant deeps or skies burnt the fire of thine eyes? On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?"

His words slowly grew flowery and smooth, and the sound reminded her of drinking too much gin when the music was too loud, or the rumble of her heart after a long run. Silvia pulled her hat off and tucked her hair back into it so she could see her traveling companion, now that she was closer to him. He had black eyes set forward, a smile creasing the corners of his eyes and lips. Not often did she catch these looks. His calm, content voice and nearly peaceful face eased her ever-present anxiety.

"And what shoulder, and what art, could twist the sense of thy heart. And when thy heart began to beat, what dread hand, and what dread feet? What the hammer? what the chain, In what furnace was thy brain? What the anvil? what dread grasp, Dare its deadly terrors clasp!"

He grunted and shrugged and glanced to his left, catching her ever-moist grey orbs. She was standing beside him now, and rather than prod him for the peek into his mind, she reached out and touched his hand, brushing her fingers across his knuckles. His dark gaze turned away as he chuckled.

On they walked through ages old destruction.

Soft footsteps evened out as the pair and their dog crept past the fallen debris of a building and into a much cleaner area of downtown Boston. Diamond City wasn't far; they could see the stadium walls past the fallen brick and steel of city structures. And the smells were getting stronger, as evident by Floppy Dog's wandering nose. The brendle was a little tiger.. hunted like one, low to the ground and stalking.. moved like one. She was striped all over in golds and black and streaks of white. Floppy Dog was a Tyger.

Silvia's slim fingers grasped Hancock's and she dared to whisper, her curiosity too strong. "Is there more?" She tied her knuckles with his, rifle shouldered and the edge of dread dying out now that city guards could be seen in the distance.

His voice rumbled in his throat and she waited for him to gather the nerve, her fingers fiddling with his between them.

"When the stars threw down their spears and water'd heaven with their tears: Did he smile his work to see? Did he who made the Lamb make thee? Tyger Tyger burning bright, In the forests of the night: what immortal hand or eye, Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"

She held his hand now. That realization hit her heavy in the stomach, her cheeks lit up and her eyes snapped away from his.. but he was faster, and he'd gripped her fingers still, not letting her slip away from him.

She was quiet now. Not so much because of the awkward contact.. she was quietly glad he'd had the nerve to hold on, she'd lost hers far too easily. But this close to Diamond City, she'd become keenly aware of his.. other-ness. His ghoulishness. And the danger they were about to attempt bypassing because of it.

He had insisted right away that this would be easy. He'd done it more than enough times. If someone stopped him, he.. what did he call it.. greased palms. Kinky. His pockets held little bags of caps for the task. But right now she wished he'd stayed in Goodneighbor. She had no idea how this would play out.

"Just trust me, Darlin'?" His mouth was close to her ear. When had that happened? "That's all I'm askin'."

Tyger had hustled forward, sniffing downwind of the guards with her head low. Hancock slid his hand out of hers and outpaced her a few steps before whistling loudly, making Silvia flinch, and the dog came running back.. and the attention of every guard in the street before them was drawn to Hancock and Silvia. They were a good 100 meters out.. so maybe they couldn't see his scars? Or his black eyes? Hancock waved to the guards as the dog came galloping back, tongue hanging and tail wagging so hard her hips wiggled.

The ghoul kneeled down to play with Floppy's ears, baby talking to the striped beast. "Good Tyger! You like that name, right?" He glanced up, she could see the grin past the hat, and knew he was right.

The guards had dissipated, back to working, or not working, whatever they could get away with. Hancock was a genius. And it was nice to be wrong for once. They had no trouble at all getting past the city guard. He made it seem too easy.

The long wall of Diamond City stretched out before them, the road dotted with guards. Hancock gave her a sly grin and went to grip her hand once more, fingers tangling between hers. She knew she was blushing. He couldn't take his dark eyes off of her, and near the gates he stopped and pulled her close for a soft kiss to her lips. She was breathless from his swift movement and her face burned. When he let go of her and kept walking, she was left a little dumbstruck. He was locking his shotgun and sticking it in his pack. She busied herself with locking her weapons before catching up with him.

Not a single guard watched them pass, all attempting to look away from the couple. That fucking genious.

Floppy Dog was kept at her side with the promise of brahmin jerky. (The dog had no fat on her, but never stopped eating.) and the three descended into Diamond City. Midday meant the whole town was moving, like pasty lumps of blood sloshing through an old ghoul's heart, it just.. pulsed.. with life. Unfriendly life most of the time. Silvia was not one for crowds.

Getting through the streets of Diamond City never takes long. She'd been secretive about their destination in Goodneighbor. Hell, she was always secretive. But this one was easy to crack.. the big red neon hearts were a dead giveaway. They followed the trail of them around an alleyway and down a little corridor.

Silvia gave the door a little tat-tat-tat-tat with her knuckles and turned the handle, letting the sunlight sneak down the narrow alleyway and into the crack.

"Nick?"

You don't want to sneak up on people in this world, sure, but her voice was kind.. and familiar. Hancock wondered on that for all of a second.

The detective threw his synthetic arms around Silvia and swooped her up, laughing deep. "About damned time, kid, where the hell have you been?" He kissed the top of her head and set her back on the ground, standing back to get a good look at her with his artificial hands on her solid shoulders.

Hancock was still standing in the open door, forgotten and somewhat shocked. Silvia didn't hug. Did she?

"Rhode Island.. Um.. I think? Narragansett Bay is gone.. did you know that? The whole thing. Nothing but dust." She was rambling happily, and he was watching her with a smile John had never seen on the old synth's face.

"Had no idea. Did you get pictures?" Silvia giggled. Did she giggle? It was an alien sound for the ghoul.

The metal fingers of Nick's right hand snapped closed around Silvia's knit hat and pulled it off. A cascade of black fell around her shoulders. The old synth let out a truly pleasant laugh.

Silvia reached for the hat and failed to grasp it as the synth lifted it higher. He chuckled. "Didn't think you'd ever grow it out again. What gives?"

"Don't get attached, it's getting chopped off." She jumped and snatched the hat from his hand, sticking it quickly on her head once more, leaving the black to hang around her face. Nick seemed to approve.

Hancock would too, but he was just part of the scenery; they'd both forgotten about him. Until Nick leaned back on Ellie's desk and waved a hand at Hancock.

"Close that, will ya?" He sounded just a little colder as he regarded the mayor. "I got a reputation to keep."

The metal door clanked closed.

Steel fingers searched the pocket of Nick's white collared shirt and retrieved a fresh pack of cigarettes and his lighter. One was offered to John.. who crossed the small space to take it.

Floppy dog had slipped in before the door closed and pushed past the ghoul to sniff at the machine. And it was a good thing, too. Nick's attention was pulled away and his cigarettes left on the table to greet the dog. "Look at you... Just beautiful." His fleshy hand stopped near the dog's face and he waited, knowing a lot of animals just didn't agree with his uniquely unnatural presence. The dog seemed uneasy. Big black eyes seemed worried. Nick gave her a little pat on the head then shrugged, looking at Silvia, then Hancock. "She got a name? Or should I just call her Missus Dogmeat?"

"No way, no puppies, not gonna happen." She laughed and he was smiling. Hancock shifted from foot to foot. "Uh.. Her name is Floppy Dog."

"Tyger" Hancock corrected her playfully.

"And Tyger." She laughed. "And this -"

"Mayor Hancock," The detective interrupted. "Goodneighbor. We're old pals, right?"

The mayor just laughed and shrugged, grabbing a lighter for his gifted cigarette. "He's come looking for a few missing people in Goodneighbor,"

"And he's helped me out, when he can." Nick finished for him.

A glance between the two men told her there was more to the story.. isn't there always. "So we've all worked together, that's great." She chimed, masking her annoyance with an almost believable smile. Both men knew better; Neither let on. One big act.

"Yeah, but this one's not really his problem, partner." Nick was just lighting his cigarette. He took a mighty puff, eyes off the ghoul and glowing on Silvia's face. Smoke drifted up between them. "I got an old friend.. I guess a friend, who's come asking for some help. Not sure of the details, Ellie talked to him, not me, but it sounds like a missing person deal. I could use your help."

Metal fingers glinted in the dim overhead light as they lifted to his pale lips. "We'll be going pretty far north. I'd say we'll be gone a couple weeks. Whaddaya think?"

"How far north?" Silvia pulled her rifle off her shoulder and leaned it on a wall, then proceeded to roll her sore shoulder and neck.

"North-east, really. Up the coast. Very edge of the Commonwealth. And far enough we might find ourselves on a boat at some point." He watched the dark haired woman, her big pale eyes down in thought.

Nick knew the drill; She used the same processes he did as a detective, every angle thought out carefully. "Alright. We'll need to stop in at the lighthouse for supplies.. and-"

"'We' bein'?" Hancock spoke up as he stomped out his cigarette and dug into his pants pocket for something to get rid of the stale taste. A purple tablet was produced from a little tin and disappeared into the ghoul's mouth.

Silvia's grey eyes fell on Hancock and she looked almost sad. Damn was the woman good at hiding it. "Well, we being me and Nick, I believe. His outfit." She shrugged. "Sorry, Mayor."

He tossed her the Mentats tin as a peace offering. "I can't be leaving the commonwealth for weeks on end, the people need me," He was being ceremonial and dramatic. Silvia was fighting off a smile.. she lost that fight when he waved his coat around theatrically and stepped away from the door. "I'll head back to Goodneighbor in the morning." He ground out smoothly.

Silvia was sucking on a mentat, the tin hidden away in a pocket.

Nick nodded, fishing out another cigarette. "We can leave for the coast in the morning if you want, doll. Of course.. I don't know if you two want to spend date night in Diamond City.. no offence, Mayor."

His yellow eyes stayed down. Silvia was more angry than embarrassed. "I could go for some noodles, at least. John?" She stood straight and grabbed her rifle.

She'd caught him off guard this time, and he grinned. "Grab me some? The tin can's right, I can't be out there wandering around like I'm a local." He was fighting the urge to fix her hair; a thick strand of glassy black was blocking his view of her eyes. Thankfully the old ghoul had more willpower than he let on.

Silvia glanced longingly at the now unprotected door and then to the Synth and the Ghoul "Then we're gonna go find some food. I'll bring ya back somethi... thing..."

Nevermind, the old ghoul was willpower-less. He reached out to touch Silvia's face with scarred fingers then tucked the black strand back behind her ear. Silvia's eyes widened and cheeks reddened. She rushed out and the door closed behind girl and dog.

Both men sighed.

The silence stretched on.. at long last Valentine caved. "She's always traveled alone.. When did that change?"

He snorted. "Don't think it has. I had to beg her to let me tag along." He was being honest. As honest as he got.

"People tell me you can be very persuasive. Maybe that's true. Known her long?"

"Few months.. she's done work for Goodneighbor. She doin' work for you?" He raised a scarred brow.

Nick found the movement of his face fascinatingly disturbing, and decided not to delve into those strange thoughts. He puffed at the last of his cigarette. "Yeah.. on and off for a year now. Best partner I've ever had. Best sniper I've ever met, too."

"I've seen. Kinda scary.. makes you wanna stay on her good side." He chuckled. Nick smiled a little.

"You must be doing a fine job of that." burning yellow flashed, drawing John's attention away from the floor. They stared for a moment, uncomfortable for unfathomable reasons.

John broke first and looked down, a small, somewhat triumphant smile on his lips. "She's kinda worth tryin' for." He spoke softly.

Nick was left stunned. He looked away from the ghoul, a mix of human emotions being processed too quickly had overheated his processors and fans kicked on. He covered the sound with a practiced cough.

"I hope ya can live without her a while.. This is work, and she don't need you distracting her."

"Hey this is your ballgame, you pick the team. Just bring her back alive, yeah? My little town likes having her around.. you know how my freaks love superheros."

"Superheros?"

"I get the feeling she'll tell you all about it. The woman stays busy."

"You don't know the half of it.. But I didn't know she'd been busy in Goodneighbor."

"You keep real close tabs on her, Nicky?" The ghoul didn't sound so conversational now.

"Not so much. She tells me, most of the time." Nick shrugged.

That had time to sink in. The little smoke filled room was very uncomfortable for the length of a cigarette before Nick opened his mouth, the muted sound of gears breaking the silence.

"She seems happy."

Hancock raised his black eyes to Nick and caught the edge of his smile. The ghoul laughed.

"Don't go soft on me old man, I'm still expecting the speech."

Nick took a drag of his cigarette and waved the smoke away in annoyance, deciding on his words. "Alright...Silvia calls it a compliment sandwich or something. Here goes; Hancock.. You're a dick. She seems happy, but if she's not I'm gonna kick your wrinkled ass."

"I don't think that's how it works... but.. I get ya, brother. She's a grown woman, though.. I'm not gonna treat her like glass because Uncle Nicky's breathing down my neck. If I did.. she'd hang me."

The detective snorted and shrugged. "No pressure."

They stayed quite, uncomfortable and fidgeting, til Nick pushed his long slim mechanical body off the desk and went around to his own work space. He grabbed a magazine and tossed it in Hancock's direction. It fluttered down and Hancock grabbed the pages recklessly.

"I got a bed upstairs if you two want to use it. Silvia's gonna need to sleep, it'll be a long walk. Ya get me?" Nick glanced over as he settled into his seat.

Hancock nodded and dropped into the floor with the magazine. "Have faith, brother. I'm not an animal." he smirked and flipped through the pages. They were both thankful for the relative quiet that followed.

------------------------

Silvia's first stop was the barber. She couldn't remember his name, but his mother provided the information in the form of berating shrieks of criticism. Seems some things never changed.

Silvia asked for short, and that's exactly what she got. There was just enough to brush over her ears and touch her forehead, but her neck was quite bare and felt cool despite the heat. She got a look in John the Barber's mirror and cracked a half-smile. Wonder what the Mayor would think.

Floppy Dog didn't seem to notice the change. Lucky dog. Silvia couldn't help rubbing the back of her neck where the hair was shortest. The scared patch bugged her, but there was no sense in dwelling on it. Still, she left her hat off for a while to get used to the scars being exposed.

After the haircut she made short work of dinner, a stop at Choice Cuts then over to Power Noodles, and she was heading back to the Agency with the makings of dinner, provided Ellie still had a hot plate in the office.

And Floppy was nowhere to be see.

Silvia retraced her steps, checking down the back ally near the dugout and the entry ramp. She found the dog sniffing at a guard near the front gates. He was shooing her off in annoyance. "Floppy!" She yelled down the stairs and the dog came galloping back, tail-a-waggin'. Silvia gave a wave the the guard and headed back to the agency.

Silvia was not expecting what she found when she returned to the Valentine Detective Agency.

John and Nick seemed to be having a nice little conversation. The ghoul had taken over Ellie's chair, the room was blanketed in smoke and they seemed in good spirits. The conversation drifted from old jobs to the memory den, then to Daisy and her amazing assortment of wigs. Hancock was trying to convince the detective he'd look great with hair.

Silvia let them talk as she prepared the meat, stealing glances of the men. It hit her that this would be one of those good memories some day, and she quietly enjoyed it while she could.

In no time she tossed the little strips of cooked meat into their two noodle bowls and passed one to the ghoul. Silvia simply dropped into the floor beside them, her back against a filing cabinet, and Floppy Dog laid down beside her, waiting patiently for her share.

That was when both men stopped talking and stared at her, jaws hanging slack. She looked up from her bowl, a little confused.

"What did you do?" John spoke quietly.

"I like it." Nick said simply and snuffed out his cigarette.

Silvia's cheeks burned red, grey eyes watching John expectantly.

He reached over and ran his rough hand through the pixie cut. "Makes it a lot easier to see your face." He smiled and sat back in his chair.

She quickly dropped her eyes to her bowl, hiding the little smile. "Thought about getting it all shaved off, maybe you'll let me into the club?"

John laughed. "Don't think that'd be a good look on you, darlin'. I am gonna miss it though." He started on his bowl of noodles.

Silvia stayed quiet as she ate and Nick could tell she was annoyed, but John seemed clueless.

Nick had the unique opportunity to watch the two while they ate.. but after a few moments of awkward silence he stood. "I'm gonna get some errands out of the way before it gets dark. Silvia you can take the bed upstairs. John... Er... I'll let you two figure it out." He grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and pulled it on, adjusted his hat and headed to the door. "Need anything?"

"Think we're good. Thanks for the hospitality, friend." Hancock nodded.

"Thanks, Nick." Silvia waved from the ground.

Once Nick was gone the room was oddly quiet except for the clinking of forks on bowls. She wasn't talking, and he was just.. watching her.

Why did he do that?!

At last he put his food down and slid off the chair into the floor. Silvia looked up to find him crawling towards her. He crossed his legs and sat in front of her on the cool tile. "Sunshine?"

"You don't like it do you?" Silvia blurted out. Her half empty bowl was passed off to the dog.

"What? No.. I mean yes I like it! I'm gonna miss my favorite excuse though..." He reached out to touch her cheek and she couldn't help but smile a little. He loved playing with the stray hairs that invaded her face, but now he could see her eyes, no hiding them from him. "I love it." He leaned in and kissed her nose, palm still on her cheek.

"I can tell when you're lying you know."

He laughed. "Maybe.. I love you though, and that's the truth." His fingers brushed over her ear.

"John..."

"Don't argue with me." He cut her off "I'm not usin' the word lightly. I love you.. an' I want you to come back to me when you're done working..." The words were strained, serious.

She tilted her cheek into the palm of his hand but stayed silent, unable to look at him. It would be so easy to say yes.. and she'd be happy to do just that, but so many 'if's and so many 'who's kept her from answering. She wasn't in a position to make these kinds of commitments.

"Silvie you're over-thinking it." He nudged her cheek and she raised her head to meet his eyes. "Not askin' ya to marry me or have my babies. Just..."

"Just what?"

"Just telling you I want you back." He smiled.. the silly lopsided smile that hit the corners of his eyes, the one he saved for her.

She really was over-thinking it. So she stopped thinking and leaned in to kiss that thin, lopsided smile.

He chuckled against her lips.

"If I can I will." She finally said.

"I'll take it." He was still smiling, but she couldn't help but wonder if it was cruel to keep his hopes up. There was no chance to dwell on that, a knock at the door caught both of them by surprise. Floppy Dog jumped up and trotted across the room. Silvia scrambled from the floor to answer it and Hancock scooted back on the floor til he was well hidden behind Ellie's desk; Don't want the locals catching site of him.

Silvia opened the door to a Diamond City guard wearing a pitchers mask, a baseball bat swung over one shoulder. "Afternoon, Ma'am. Can I have a few words with you?"

She looked back at the room, then shook her head. "Well the detective isn't in." She moved to step outside, trying to close the door behind her, but the guard was having none of it, he pushed the door opened and walked right past her. "You can't be in here. Hey!" She reached for his shoulder, leaving the door to slam behind her.

The guard turned, raised one hand defensibly and reached up with the other to remove his catcher's mask. "Relax! Just need to borrow you're Geiger Counter." His sunglasses slid up his face a bit too far and she caught sight of his eyes; not long enough to catch the color or shape, just to know that he actually had them.

Silvia smacked Deacon's arm where she had grabbed him seconds ago. "Damn it! You scared the hell out of me! Hancock put that damned gun away." the dark haired woman sighed.

John raised up from behind the desk as smoothly a zombie prince can, tilted his hat forward and released the hammer on his pistol. "Deacon?"

The spy looked back and gave Hancock a grin. "I come at a bad time?"

"Would have loved a phone call first." She mumbled and Deacon laughed.

"Where's the fun in that? How's it goin' Mister Mayor?" Deacon strolled on into the office like he owned the place and had a seat in Nick's desk chair. At least he wasn't sitting on the desk.

Silvia looked down at her dog, grunted and dropped into a squat. She put her hands on the dog's narrow head and looked the dog in the eye. "What the hell? You being useless or useful.." She whispered. All of this was ignored by the two men.

John was trying to pry the catcher's mask out from under Deacon's arm. "Lemme just try it."

"This one's mine! You can get your own!" Deacon pulled the mask back against his chest and wrapped both arms across it.

"Yeah, you're right." John shrugged with a laugh. And Deacon deflated. Hancock's little laugh turned into a coughing fit instantly. The ghoul did love to win.

"Speaking of money.." Deacon started, but Hancock lifted a finger and pointed to Silvia and the dog.

"Hey sister, you and the mutt having a conversation without us?" Deacon called across the desks to Silvia, who was still looking at the dog.

"Maybe"

"Well if she knows where the institute is you let me know, right?"

Hancock had lit a cigarette and taken up Ellie's seat again.

"She might."

"Uh.." Deacon took a step closer.

"Silvie? What's up, darlin'?"

She raised those big grey eyes. John saw the gears working; he saw the little dent in her lower lip that meant she was gnawing at the inside; He saw the way her brows knit just enough to leave a thumbprint sized dimple in her forehead, just above her eyebrows. So he took a drag of his smoke and let her pick her words.

Deacon was less patient. And oblivious. As it should be.

"I think she can smell synths." She finally said.

Interesting. Hancock tilted his head in consideration. Deacon laughed.

"Well she senses something. She's drawn to some people but not others. Scared of some and not others..."

The spy cut her off. "She's a dog. They're like that."

"When I was at Mercer she was doing it. We got 3 synths there that I know of and she stayed around them the whole night, begging for scraps and attention. And another guy I didn't know. Maybe..."

"Did you get his name?"

"Yeah. Harper." She said the name quietly.

He just nodded, arms crossing over his security armor.

"Alright, so she's a synth sniffer? Or a synth doggy? It could be coincidence."

"It could be.. Deacon you know how you owe me that favor?" A little grin spread across Silvia's chapped lips and touched her eyes.

"Er.. Yeah. What ya need, sister?" There was only a touch of fear.

"I need you to puppy-sit for a couple weeks. And see if I'm right?" Silvia rubbed the dog's floppy ears and stood. "See how she reacts to new people coming in. Put Tinker Tom on it, it's right up his alley. But.. Um.. maybe you could actually take care of her?" She looked hopeful. "Please?

"You bet! I love animals!" Deacon patted his knee and the dog came running... Silvia relaxed. "She might get fat though, lots of people over there to mooch scraps off of." He spoke as he rubbed the dog's face and head. "You going somewhere?"

"Yeah, working a case with Nick, long trip. I'd feel better if she was here. Nick said we might be taking a boat." She made a face.

Hancock reached out a hand to her across the desk. Rather than take it, Silvia went around the desk and sat in his lap. The mayor seemed quite delighted, laughing as he wrapped arms around his woman's waist. "Alright, Deacon, what's the word?"

"What? Oh, Right! Money! I found a buyer who wants half of it, but the price is shitty. You'd do better to sell him one or two and let the word get out. Finite supply means the price will rise quickly."

"Oh.. The Phenofarasep? I forgot all about it, that was a.. strange night. It's-" Deacon cut her off.

"Midnight Express. Night Bite. Farseer. Prewar psycher shit. And a hell of a high.. er... Tinker Top was the test subject, and he's almost immune to the hard shit now. Not sure I'd ever touch the stuff."

"I kinda wanna try it..." Silvia said softly.

John laughed and gave her a squeeze. "I'm right there with ya, sounds like a hell of a trip. We'll save some, but with your blessing.. I'd like to sell half of it."

She shifted around so she could see him better. "It's yours, do whatever you want with it."

Oh if a ghoul could purr he would, he nuzzled into the crook of her arm and smiled like the cat that got the cream. "Thank you, darlin'."

"So.. uh.. is there more...?" Deacon raised a brow above his glasses.

Silvia grabbed Hancock's hat and dropped it atop her short hair. "Nope. That was the first and last full batch production after testing.. then the bombs went off before it could ever be used." She was rubbing the ghoul's rough head, more focused on him than the spy.

"And where did you.."

"Nope" Silvia smiled.

"Aww not even a hint?"

"Sure." A quick kiss to the ghoul's head then she put his hat back on him. "You can start searching a few hundred miles south." She looked back to Deacon and pointed down. "But there really is no more."

He pouted. "No time for the trip anyway if I'm dog-sitting. You want me to take her with?" Deacon stood from Nick's chair.

"I think.. I'll bring her by in the morning, before we leave. That work?"

"No problem, see you in the morning then." He pulled the catchers mask back over his face, glasses and all.

"Stay safe, Deacon." she called as he walked out.

Hancock growled into the side of her breast playfully to gain her full attention. "Thought he'd never leave."

"Oh?"

"Yeah.. I had plans ya know."

Her laugh was like music. He lifted his bottomless black orbs to look at the woman's face. From this angle he could follow the line of her nose up and see the tiny outward curve in the center, he could see the bow in her lips and and her dark lashes. And she always blushed when he looked at her like this.. he loved that color on her.

His sign was invaded by both her hands covering his face.

"Hey!" He grunted and stuck his tongue out to lick the heel of one palm.

He laughed. "Stop looking at me like you want to eat me!"

Snap went his teeth and she pulled her fingers back with a squeak.

"You figured out my plans, Silvie.." Hooded eyes gave her the most mischievous look.

She shook her head and slid out of his lap. "Oh no no no, Nick would not-"

"Then we better hurry..."

"John!"

He stood and grabbed around the middle, pulled her chest to hard against his and gave her a deep, lingering kiss, his tongue teasing til she gave in with a little sigh. "He said we could have the upstairs..." he whispered against her mouth.

"But if he comes back.." She breathed a weak protest even as her body disobeyed her, lips finding his neck to tease right back.

He whispered into her ear, voice low and gravely. "You better not get too loud then."

That's not how it worked out.

-----------------------------------

Chapter Text

"I'm not a hoarder!" It wasn't the first time she'd had the thought, but it was the first time she's said it out loud. Nick had watched and waited, very quietly, as Silvia stuffed three old ashtrays into one of the pockets of her armor. Now he was giving her the strangest look.. the synth could be hard to read. After a painful few seconds of staring, he finally laughed in that smooth voice of his and made a sweep of his pistol hand.

"Need me to carry any of that?" There was amusement in Nick Valentine's voice, and she cracked a little smile under her armor helm.

"I'll let you know.." Silvia laughed as she turned back to the task at hand, moving slowly past turrets and traps, deep within a bunker called the Nucleus.

The synth had been a good friend over the months, his dry humor matched her own, and the jabs never ended.. At times, Sil thought of the detective as a father figure, at other times, a brother.. He was family... as close to real family as she could get these days. Only a few people fell into that category.. but Nick.. She'd followed him through hell, and he'd followed her right back out. When it came to the fight, they understood each other, worked wonderfully together. And, maybe it was his poor judgement, though she'd never known him to have any.. but he trusted her. So when she said she was heading into the belly of the beast to retrieve DiMa's stored memories, he trusted her enough to follow.

It meant a lot to Silvia that he was willing to follow, considering this really had nothing to do with the pair of 'detectives'. All they had to do was get a girl back to her parents. It should have been easy! But the more she learned about the island and the little war being waged between the Children of Atom, the Synths and Far Harbor.. the more she felt there might be something she could do to end it. Headstrong.. and stupid. But hopeful. She saw the pieces.. She hadn't figured out how to put them all together. And there was a chance the Children might shed some light on the island's problems. More then that, DiMa's memories where old.. and, while she kept it to herself and Nick, she was hopeful she could find information about the Institute there.

Of course, there was a huge chance she was wrong. That the Children were really fanatics, that DiMa was lying, that Far Harbor was doomed no matter what she did.

Eh, what else was she going to do with her time? There was no more Saturday Afternoon Backgammon. No more Women's Alliance meetings. No more Neighborhood Counsel Bake Sales. And Shawn.. She was still coming to terms with Shawn.. but she was sure now that she'd never get her baby back.

Silvia wasn't thinking about any of these things. Her mind was in the moment, the rock and steel passage leading further into the hillside. The turret that had just started to spray laser fire at her and Nick. A few shots from her pistol took it out, and before the metal had even stopped smoking, she was pocketing a few bolts and screws and a half used power cell.

Nick's laughter echoed through the hall, and they could both hear a beep from further on.

There wasn't a chance to speak, they didn't really need to. Her gun was lifted as she crouched by the cooling turret scrap. Just behind her, to one side, Nick popped off a few shots before she could. The complaints and declarations of peace sputtered to a stop and the bot fell over.

"Not another word!" Silvia barked playful through the synth's laughter. Yep.. she was scrounging around the robot's innards, looking for something useful, and he was belly laughing behind her. She couldn't help but smile under her helmet. "You know how much I love junk.. why else would I keep you around?" her helmed face turned to his, and he knew she was smiling somewhere in there.

"You gonna use me for parts?" He chided as he strolled past her, checking around the corner for more protectrons. "Got a Gutsy, did you find enough ammo or want some of mine?"

Both hands on her pistol, she crouched down by the other wall to get a look, taking her time to aim. "I don't know, do fingers make good bullets? Or maybe your nose.. Hey! I could use your-"

POP! POP POP! POP POP POP! Nick had gone ahead of her, blasting his way through the Gutsy unit, while Silvia proceeded to gun down a turret she'd missed seconds ago, making quick work of it, despite her change in targets.

The cave was clear, another room stood in front of them, the door closed, locked. Silvia pulled a processing chip and a few lengths of wire from the Gutsy unit, watching Nick at the door. His humor had slipped away like a wounded mirelurk in the mud, and she could tell he was nervous.

"Could be stuff about me in those memories.."

"Could be.. Something you don't want me to know, Nick?" she hadn't touched the door.. he just stood in front of it, his hand on the metal.

"Might be something I don't want me to know..."

Silvia reached out a hand, covered in cold steel, and laid it on his shoulder. the contact relaxed him. "I've got ya.." she whispered. So much was said in those three little words, and he understood it all.

He grunted, a sound she'd never heard him make before. Moments passed in quiet.

"You gonna knock or should I?"

Chapter Text

Her hands clenched at the outer casing of the monitor before her, her fingers white and nails cracked at the ends from pressing into the molded plastic for the last two hours.

Silvia's eyes refused to stay closed. Nick, who was no more than 4 feet from his partner these last few hours, had tried several times to close her eyes, to no avail; They continued to shoot side to side, intent on whatever the strange dome on her head was showing her. It was eerie, watching her this way, Stone-like in her concentration and totally unaware of the outside world. It made her look very much like an early model synth; Cold, lifeless eyes and mechanical movements of her head from left to right.. and still she gripped the monitor case as if to let go would be to slip into the void, never to return.

Nick had no idea what she could be doing inside that program, how long she might be in there.. if she would ever get out. He'd be close by for as long as it took, but as another hour ticked by, his insubstantial brows knitted in worry and he laid a synthetic skin covered hand on her arm and continued to wait, silently watching his friend's body while her mind wandered the data banks.

Another hour had passed, maybe more, and Nick's thoughts had turned sour. He was angry at this point, debating with himself how to deal with DiMa. Make him fix her! And if he couldn't.. Dismantle him for parts and throw the rest in the ocean. Nick was coming to that conclusion when his thought process was broken.

Silvia gasped, her eyes flying wide as her lips did the same, her body crumpled under her, head on course to collide with the stone floor. Nick was there. He grabbed her by the middle, pulled her against him in one great sweep of his arms and held on, relieved and worried. She was limp, breathing shallow, and when he gently laid her down on the ground, he saw her eyes were still open, pupils nothing but pin points in an icy ocean of pale grey, surrounded by red scalar. Her mouth hung slack, her skin deathly pale and slick with sweat.

He swept her damp hair back from her face to lay fleshy fingers on her neck to find a pulse, the silver streaks hidden in the raven black stood out to him for some strange reason. She looked so old and frail to him at that moment.

Her heartbeat was weak. Nick's synthetic hand moved to her face, touching her cheeks and forehead and felt the heat coming off her. "Damn!"

She might give him an ear full later.. In fact, he hoped she would as he unbuttoned her shirt, exposing her skin to the dry air to help cool her down. Her clothes were drenched in sweat, heat rolling off of her. In a desperate attempt to cool her down he poured a bottle of water on her chest and neck, in her hair, on her arms, frantic to cool her. He glanced around the room, saw a fan sitting on one of the console panels and snatched it up, pulling the cord from the wall in back.. it wasn't long enough.

The fan went flying across the room, crashing into a steel wall, and Nick pulled off his hat, fanning his friend's face, mumbling. "What the hell did that thing do to you..."

-------

Hours passed, the fever faded, her skin grew cooler, and he'd covered her with his coat to keep her from getting too cold in the stone and steel room. At least her clothes were dry. Her hair was sticking to her cheeks and neck; it'd grown quite a bit since they left Diamond City.

There was a bag of Rad-Away hanging from the side of one computer terminal and a line leading into Silvia's arm. He'd considered moving her, but didn't feel it would do any good. He thought about leaving her and going back to the harbor for help. He'd considered her supply of drugs, but in the end decided against using them. He just didn't know enough about them to guess which would help, or how much. So all he could do was wait and watch.

Nick figured 4 hours since she came out of the machine, and she was nearly the same. If he had been alone, time wouldn't mean so much to him. But with Silvia still unconscious, it seemed to drag on painfully. There was a point where he would have cried, had he been built with that function.

At long last, Silvia's voice broke Nick's brooding. She started to groan and her face turned right, cheek finding cold stone. It shocked her, her eyes fought to open and couldn't, and a hoarse voice squeaked out something Nick couldn't understand. He leaned in some, grabbing a water bottle. "Shh... Don't say a word, doll." His hand was behind her shoulders, helping her sit up enough to drink from the bottle he'd pressed to her lips. Her shaking hands reached blindly for the bottle, finding his hand and holding onto it as she drank deep. He had to slow her down a few times when she started to cough. He helped her to lay back once more, her hand refusing to let go of his metal fingers. She couldn't see the concern creasing his face.

She was so very weak. It was only a few minutes before her hand slipped away and she was gone again. He held onto her, checked her pulse. Her breathing had the heavier and her fingers and lips twitched restlessly.

It was time to move her. He stood and gathered up her armor and pack, grabbed the chims he'd left out and started packing everything into her pack, stuffing pockets and pulling straps to fasten her armor onto the back. He fetched another bottle of water and stuffed it in his coat pocket.

"wh.. t was... *cough cough* 'oh-n.." Silvia raised a hand to her face, rubbing her swollen eyes. She couldn't open them, and was starting to panic when she heard his voice.

"Take it easy.. Don't.. Stop that." Nick dropped the pack and moved quickly to his partner's side. He grabbed Silvia's hands, stopping her from rubbing at her raw, swollen eyes, and leaned close, speaking softly. "Don't, you'll make it worse.. I think they're infected, but I'm no doctor. Just stay calm." He held her hands to his chest and she relaxed little by little as her mind cleared, as the memories, both hers and DiMa's, came rushing back. "When you feel like moving we'll get back to the harbor and have someone look at you."

"What h-happened to me?" Her voice cracked painfully. She reached up to her throat and realized Nick's jacket was laying across her body, a little breeze notifying her of the lack of clothing underneath. She cracked a little smile. "Di'n't know you felt th't way....."

Tension fell away from Nick and he laughed weakly. "I've got great taste in women, you know.. Careful..." He reached to help her sit up, hoping to keep her awake. She noticed the IV and kept her arm out for it.

They were silent as she drank and sucked at a mutfruit, her hand going back to her swollen eyes more than a few times.

"How did this.."

Nick pulled her hand away from her face once more, holding it gently in his own. Her nails were cracked right down to the bed, her fingertips were blue and bruised, a little bloody from the broken nails "You were in that thing a long time.. didn't blink, didn't move. When you came out you were burning up. I.. I'm just glad you're alive." his hand closed tight around hers and held it close. She leaned against his shoulder and he pulled her up against him, supporting her weight.

The quiet stretched on for some time before his smooth voice broke it "How ya feeling, gorgeous?"

"Like burnt toast" Her voice cracked and a small smile crossed her lips. "But been worse."

"Think you can move yet? We need to get you to a doc."

She stretched out her legs a little, a few muscles stretching painfully and a pop sound out from her knee. She winced, this wasn't going to be a fun trip. "Yeah.. With some help."

"Always"

Chapter Text

The day Silvia's limp body was carried into Far Harbor by a worn down old synth in a trench coat was the same day a letter arrived in Goodneighbor, back in the Commonwealth; and a world away from the radioactive God that covered The Island.

Hancock had returned to his little hamlet of freedom when Silvia left with Nick to travel north. He wasn't happy, and between then and now he'd wanted to just forget the dark haired Valkyrie had ever walked into his life. He's tried to do so a few times, drinking as much as his body would let him and sleeping it off for days. Mixing Jet and Daytripper in when the mood hit. Then it's back to work, dealing with problems, causing a few.. til something reminds him of her and he is angry all over again.

She didn't belong to him.. Hell she didn't belong to anyone, and his dreams of keeping her all to himself where just selfish and deluded.

She was probably fucking Nick Valentine. He was sure of that some days. It wasn't an easy task to surpress that insicurity. But it's been so long, he was sure she'd moved on.

Was it weeks?

A month?

No.. more then that.

Hancock was sitting in his study in the State House, a mess of bottles and medications on the table, a woman sleeping on the couch to his right, another behind him, clanking bottles as she poured herself and the Mayor another drink. As he slouched in a high-back chair, John's bottomless black eyes stared into the distance, at the doors across the foyer to Silvia's room. He slept in there more often than he cared to admit.

A blond woman, her face lined with age, handed a glass of golden liquid to the Mayor without a word. She dropped into a chair, dust flying up around her trousers, and leaned forward to set her own glass and the bottle on the table.

"Huh.." She grabbed up an envelope and turned it over. There was a wet ring on the paper and the ink was bleeding under it. "Hancock.. This yours?"

The ghoul turned his head, focusing on the woman and the letter she held. With a grunt he sat up, put down his glass and nabbed the envelope from her hand.

"Got my name on it, don'nit?"

Nice lettering across the front, smudged by a wet glass, the back sealed with tape. The paper was thick.. but beat up and muddy. He dropped back in the chair again and pulled the tape off, ripping the envelope in the process. A single sheet of scavenged paper was folded up inside. He dropped the envelope and opened the paper.

******

Dear John.

If you get this letter, I hope it finds you safe. I'm sure you can keep yourself out of trouble, but doubt you have. (Scribble) Whatever you've been up to, just stay alive a little longer? I'm hoping to be off this island soon, but Nick has some things to do before we can leave. There is a lot going on here, and I feel like if we stay I'm going to get dragged into it. Another week.. I'll give it another week, then I'm getting this kid home and leaving Nick to deal with his shit. He's been good to have around, but... He makes it hard to do the job, ya know? He's a lawman, he can't help it. Nick's idea of right and wrong is a little bit old fashioned. And I am rambling. About Nick. (Scribble) Too bad, Mayor, I don't have enough paper to start over. Just enough to (scriiibbbble) tell you I miss you like mad. Every single day. Have a drink for me and tell my old lady I said hello. See you soon, handsome.

Love, Silvia

******

After the first few words he stopped, realization hit and he sat up taller. He rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the words, black pools taking in the neatly written letters, a smile spreading across the ghoul's lips.

"I'll be damned..." He slumped back again, let out a breath and dropped the letter on his chest, still smiling.

"Heh.. Hell yeah."

Chapter Text

It had kind of passed in a blur; once Silvia was able to move, Nick had gathered all her gear, wrapped an arm around her to support her, and headed out of the Nucleus. There was no way the synth was going to stop there, he had to get her out of the radiation, but Far Harbor was so.. far. She was mumbling as they walked, he made out a word here and there, muttering about rad-away and getting some key... he hushed her. Whatever she had found, she didn't need to be sharing it with the Children of Atom. Nick held the dark haired woman close to his side as he lead her down the ramps and out the front door, ignoring the concerns of a few Children. He didn't stop til they were down the hill and away from the glow of their camp.

Silvia nearly fell to the ground, whimpering in pain when her legs folded under her. "Shit.. Just.. give me a minute.." She grunted out, shaking her head to clear it.. her bag was on Nick's shoulder and she pointed.

"Blue bag.. one with the..." Her voice cracked and she coughed, both hands on the ground to hold her up. Her throat was raw and painful, her lips cracked more, blood pooling in the little wounds. Nick grabbed a bottle of water from his coat pocket then yanked the smaller blue bag off Sil's carryall, the rest of her gear dropped and ignored while Nick kneeled down next to his partner.

Silvia grabbed the water bottle from Nick with a shaking hand and Nick opened the bag, finding two stimpacks sitting right on top of a pile of other... medications. He wasted no time in jabbing her in the arm with one stim, and caught her hand grabbing into the bag when he went for the other.

"The white one.. Med-x.."

He stared at her.. she started to cough again.

With a sigh he grabbed the drug and set a dose.

---------------------

The fever came back as soon as the drugs wore off, just blocks from Far Harbor. She'd held her own this far, thankfully. When she collapsed he dropped the carryall and gathered Silvia up in both arms, holding her limp body against his chest and her head to his neck as he rushed for the town. Nick was lucky to get her to the Doc behind the Bait Shop before Silvia began seizing. He held her arms while the doctor kept her mouth clear. Nick begged for his friend to stay calm, promising her she'd be alright.

And those words were spoken again and again over the course of two long days and nights. The doctor said it was the madness caused by the fog, a sickness that either ran it's course.. or destroyed one's mind in fever and pain. She couldn't hold down food or water when she was awake, and the rest of the time she slept, restlessly and loudly, sometimes waking herself with her own screams. Nick had no idea what the VR machine had done to her aside from weaken her body enough for the radiation to catch up with her, but over those two days he heard the same name often... DiMa.

Fevered and delirious in her sleep, Silvia's broken, bloodied lips spat out curses, moans and senseless mutterings. Nick had a hard time watching her like this, and a mix of concern and anger filled his artificial mind as he waited for his partner's wits to return to her.

There was nothing he could do. Nick Valentine left the Bait Shop for the umpteenth time in two days, pacing the wharf as he waited. A cigarette was held between his fingers and the brim of his hat was down, hiding his deteriorating face. He puffed at the stale tobacco, a trait left over from the real Nick Valentine; The one who lived before the war. There were only a few memories of that other man's life in his head... but the traits.. the way Nick talked and the way Nick walked.. the three packs a day Nick smoked to get him through a stress filled job... Those things stuck with Nick. And his sense of justice. It was ingrained in the synth detective as much as it had been in the human. And his sense of humor.

Right now, Old Nick and New Nick both agreed that it was time to get back to the Commonwealth. This island was more than he had expected, and it was killing his partner.. his friend. With the memories in Silvia's possession Nick didn't care about the island anymore. He just wanted to get the girl and his partner and go home. That was his job; the island was above his pay grade.

Captain Avery's boots knocked the boards behind him. Nick was slouched against the rail of the pier, his arms crossed on the wood, a burning cigarette in his hand, and bright yellow eyes downcast, watching white foam churn from black water.

"The girl's lucky to still be alive."

"She's a fighter, she always pulls through"

"I don't know.. seen a lot of people fight the fog. Not many win. If she makes it, what's your plan?"

"Still deciding. I think I need to get her off this island.. No offence, I'm sure it's beautiful during the summer." He glanced to the old woman leaning on the rail beside him. His one good hand reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes, offering one to the Captain.

"No.. it's this bad all the time." She shook her head and looked out across the wreckage littered harbor. "But it's ours.. and we're all too stubborn to leave. Even the young'uns know this is home"

"Home.. you're lucky you got that to cling to. Lots of people in the Commonwealth see home as the stuff of fairy tales. I'm lucky I've got Diamond City." The pack of smokes was tucked back into his pocket, his lit cig was just burning away in his fingers. He watched the waves come in as little peaks and break into white rimmed islands below his feet; below the pier.

Captain Avery glanced to the old synth, taking a few seconds to really look at his odd features, the gears and wires barely hidden by bleached synthetic skin, the way his cheek ended and what lay below began, a hundred little pieces of machine. She looked at his face, the ideal lines of his nose and cheek, strong jaw. Like a doll with a handsome face.. but dirt covered it, the lines of age, laughing and frowning, had creased into his man-made skin. She could easily see the grunge of life on his coat, Captain Avery was a good judge of character when it came to humans.. On those terms, she was seeing a pretty normal man worried about his friend. Curiosity sated, she looked back to the water. "What does the girl call home? Diamond City?"

"I... I really don't know if she has one."

Captain Avery let out a little sigh as she straightened her back, bones creaking. She clapped Nick on the shoulder. "I hope she pulls through, son. Let me know if you two need anything." She turned and walked back down the dock without another word, leaving Nick even more to think about. And in need of another cigarette.

------------

The rumbling had been part of her dreaming for a while.. It was calming at first; Silvia fell into a deeper sleep for a time.. but now the rumbling felt stronger, and her body lay against something that trembled and growled. She pushed herself up from the cold rumbling metal floor and dared to open her eyes, finding nothing but blurred light and dark shapes.

She could hear splashing now that she was sitting up fully. Could hear a motor.. On the boat? Past her feet was the automatic navigation system, she could see the shaft and all the gears, growing clearer with time. She was covered in a blanket.. she had been laying on one, but it was wrapped around her body now.

Silvia kicked at the blanket and reached for the door frame, pulling herself upright against it. She stood clinging to the frame as she looked out over the boat. Nick sat on the deck, on a crate, staring at her, shoulders slumped, his hat in one hand hanging between his knees. He waited for her to speak.

She was still fighting to see him clearly and was unsure of her footing so stayed at the door frame. It felt like she was in the fog... her mind was muddled. She heard.. felt.. knew that something was wrong. It was difficult to piece together how she'd gotten on the boat, why her head hurt so much. Her body hurt, she finally just dropped back to the deck on her knees. "Nick?"

He was with her in seconds, his hand under her arm, the other around her waist. He lead her to one of the boxes on deck and sat her down carefully. Her grey eyes never left him from that point. The swelling had gone down, but in place of red, the flesh around her nose and eyes looked bruised, black and purple, like she'd been beaten with a rolling pen. He reached up and pushed black hair out of her face. "Good to see you're still kicking." He smiled weakly, glowing yellow eyes searching hers.

"Not sure I am" as Nick sat down next to her she leaned against his side, a blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. "Everything's so... fuzzy." She fought with the word, like she wanted a better one. A little hand slipped out of the blanket and rested on his leg so she could grab his hat. "Did they kick us out? Did I shoot someone?"

Nick's smooth voice rose in a laugh. "No on both counts. Something you want to tell me?" He let her take his hat, turn it over in her little hand.

"....." Silvia opened her mouth to speak.. but the silence stretched on, and after a moment she buried her face against Nick's shoulder and let out a sigh, her breath warming his synthetic skin.

"Hey... aww... It's fine, kid.. I've got ya." he held her close, his arms wrapping around her hunched shoulders. Her face buried in the collar of his old dusty coat. From her lips poured such a sad sound. He shushed her, rocking as the boat rocked, muttering in his old honey voice, "I've got ya, Silvia".

He held on while she let go. She cussed at him and cursed the girl they'd been sent to find. Between sobbing she cursed Shawn for being a dickhead, hated him for the choices she had to make, hated Desdemona for being so cold. She called Preston a momma's boy and seemed to remember every single lie Deacon had ever told her. She wanted to wipe the planet again and see if she could get everyone this time.. and that was a little frightening.. she might be able to pull that one off.

Nick had never seen her let go. So much she held inside. Was she really so angry all the time? She yelled the loudest about DiMa.. like a mantra, she chanted his name til the word was filled with such hatred it was not recognizable as the Synth's name. Her fixation became troubling at a point. DiMa.. He did all of this, evil, brilliant.. DiMa.. treacherous savior.. DiMa.. she had a lot of bad things to say.

It didn't sting like it should have. Sure, DiMa might be 'family' by some twisted sense of the word, and the only other synth like him.. but he was scrap metal compared to this. This very leaky creature wrapped up in his arms was family. As Silvia wept he held her close, kissing her temple with his pale lips.

She calmed after a while. The water rushed past, her eyes closed against the wind, his watched the expression on her face change from moment to moment. She was so intent, whatever argument she was having with herself was a fierce one.

In all the yelling and crying there was no mention of them leaving, of them dropping the case. She did ask one question, and when he told her they were going back to Diamond City, he got no reply.

She was still quiet when they reached the Nakano docks and pulled the boat in for mooring. Nick hopped out, rope in hand. Silvia was still very shaky on her feet, and was barely off the boat by the time he was finished tying off the boat. Nick stood with her for several moments, his hands on her arms to steady her. When she was ready she nodded and he let her go. There was someone talking behind him, at the house, and he ignored it, staying close to Silvia. If the woman had been anyone else he would have just told her to stay on the boat and rest.. but that was pointless here.

"She is not with you?" Kenji rushed down the steps, a straw hat in one hand. His wife was coming down the stairs behind him. "Why haven't you brought her back?" He was furious; he pointed at the boat, yelling "You have to bring her back!"

Glancing back nervously at Silvia, Nick stepped up to do his job. His hands went out in a placating gesture, his smooth voice calm. "We've got a lot to talk about.. but your daughter is safe. I've got some holotapes from her for you, and if you can get that radio working, or get a new one, you can still-" Nick lead the couple back up to the house, handing Mister Nakano a handful of holos.

It gave Silvia time to learn to walk again.. which was proving troublesome. She still felt so weak, but more then that, it felt like.. like everything she'd had to drink the last few days was laced with Jet. When she got to the stairs she grabbed the railing, the pain started again. Her brain burst into white light, bile rose in her throat and her ears started to ring, louder and louder. Mixed into this was the sound of Mr. and Mrs. Nakano arguing with Nick. Yelling at him to go back to the island. He refused. Silvia rubbed her forehead then ran shaking fingers back through her hair, pulling fly away strands back away from her eyes.

Nick was starting to lose his patients when Silvia joined him. She stood in the open doorway, her arms wrapped tightly across her midsection just below her breasts, her shoulders a little straighter than they had been getting off the boat. "I can assure you both, your daughter is with people who care for her.." she said calmly, her eyes traveling from father to mother. "You have my word. She is safe and she is happy. But she's not ready to come home. She needs.. t-.." Silvia reached out quickly with one hand, gripping the door frame she stood in. A wave of vertigo swept over her. Ever her knight in faded trench coat, Nick was there to catch her, a hand on her elbow to hold her up.

She stood again with his help, muttering "Damn it.. damn it DiMa" through clinched teeth. When pale grey eyes finally found his, the concern she could see in the old synth was clear. He wasted no time in ushering Silvia out the door and back to the dock, where he commanded that she sit on the dock and watch while he dealt with their supplies.

It took come time for her head to clear. She looked back to see Mrs. Nakano watching her and the Detective with worried eyes.

When her carryall was laid close by she pulled it into her lap and went looking for her money case. The lunch box she kept her caps in used to have a vault-boy with his little thumb in the air.. but Silvia had scratched almost all of the image away and then painted all kinds of symbols and numbers in their place. Railroad signs, passwords, names.. She popped the lunch box open and counted the three little bags of caps she had.. then the paper money in her thermos. If one came close, they could take a boat to Boston. Or hire some gunners for the 3 day walk. Nick probably already had a plan.. And Silvia was expecting it to be tiring.

-----------------------

They got lucky.. Mr. Nakano let them stay in Kasumi's room for the night. He seemed guilty now, but never apologized. Silvia got a few hours of sleep.. the rest she spent fighting with herself. Arguing with herself. Arguing with DiMa. Nick quietly watched the whole thing, listened closely as she strung words together or just repeated the same ones over and over again. DiMa.. again and again she spoke of DiMa. Spoke to DiMa. She was dreaming of the machine. She had to be. Was it really that bad? Had the process to regain DiMa's memories been painful? Or just alien? Did DiMa's program break her? Did something go wrong?

As daylight started to gather on the far wall, glowing through red and pink curtains, Silvia's eyes opened and found Nick's looking back at them. They stayed as this; Her laying in the bed, curled under the blanket in her traveling clothes. Him in the chair he'd pulled close, leaning on the armrest and watching her lay there, just within arm's reach. And that is how it remained for some time, til the sunlight filled most of the room and the clatter of cups in the kitchen below broke both of them from their thoughts.

Silvia's eyes closed and she shrugged the blankets up against her neck.

Nick shook his head slowly. "You're gonna have to tell me what happened, you know."

She sniffled, her face was still bruised around the eyes and she'd cried so much they'd swollen up again. "I don't even know what happened." It was obvious she was fighting the urge to cry. "Everything's scrambled up in there.. I can't pull it all apart." She searched for more words, her lips parted.. then snapped shut. She whimpered, a pathetic sound to the Synth, and hid her mouth against the blanket, eyes closed tight. Her fight against the tears was lost.

"There's too much in my brain, Nick.. an' it hurts.."

Nick was starting to grasp the situation. Maybe, instead of going to disks, the memories had been downloaded directly into her. All of them? Some? Something else? The realization hit him all at once, his brighter-than-normal yellow eyes looked intently at Silvia.

Some part of DiMa was in there.. that's all he knew for sure, and she wasn't dealing with it very well. He reached out and laid his hand on her shoulder, pulled his hat off with the other hand and leaned in close to her, his forehead pressed to hers.

"We'll figure it out."

"I have to go back to him. Back to DiMa."

Nick sat up and forced his hat back onto his head "I don't think you understand how close you came to dying."

"Not the first time.. 2 minutes when Shaun was born.. Fell off a moving trolly when I was six.. Then that deathclaw.. And the fall off the tail end of that airliner. There was that Firewasp in Quincy.. Almost dying is what I do." She muttered the words into her blanket.

"Yeah, and you kept right on living every single time. That's what you do. So we get you to Goodneighbor and have the Memory Den girls clean out your brain.. and you keep living." Nick rose his voice.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly.. then opened her eyes and sat up, pulling the blanket around her protectively, shivering in it's quilted warmth "I got nothing worth living for so what's it matter?" She sounded defeated.

The detective balled up his metal fist and glared at his friend, the words coming out strained "If that's how you want it, we can just go back right now, the fog can finish you off and I can go home." He threw his hand up and turned away, stomping across the room to the door.

"Nick! Wait.. Please wait. I'm.." Silvia scrambled out of the bed and resisted the urge to grab him with both arms. Fingers curled into fists at her sides. "Nick I'm sorry... I shouldn't have said-"

"Aw kid.. No... I get it. But that place.. It's-"

"I know. We'll go to Diamond City.. and then we'll go to the Memory Den and get my brain sorted out.. okay? No fog."

"Ya think you can handle... that.. the voice thing?"

"It's not really a voice.. it's a whole bunch of them. Some are mine and some are his and I can't tell which is which.. some ideas.. feel like his. Some words feel like his. It feels like.. There is a ghost of someone else in there.. just out of reach until it comes rushing in from everywhere and overwhelms me. It fries my brain."

"Literally, huh? He's not.. telling you to do things is he?"

"You mean like touch my naughty parts or kill people? Neither has happened yet but I'll let you know." She gave him a weak smile.. he was too annoyed to return it. Silvia sighed "It's all just memories.. and thoughts. There.. are... lists.. and numbers.. and his voice saying the firewalls have been breached, the firewalls have been breached, the firewalls have been breached, the firewa-"

He placed his hand lightly on her shoulder and her eyes focused on his once more. She shrugged and turned her back on him, going to look for her shoes, hat and gloves. "It hurts. I mean a whole lot. I could seriously go for some jet right now.. or a bottle of vodka." She sighed wistfully. "Or maybe some scrambled eggs and bacon.. No.. Vodka."

"Real food. We got a long walk ahead of us.. If you're up for it?"

Shoes in hand, she sat in a chair to put them on, deciding on her answer. Everything was sore, but not too sore to move. Her head was in shambles, but it shouldn't hinder her too much. At last she nodded and started to put on her shoes. "Sure.. I think.. yeah. Sure."

He wasn't convinced.. but even if he had to carry her he was going to get her to the Memory Den.

Chapter Text

The wastes north of Diamond City were a lot safer now than Nick remember it. Most of the roads were clear of bugs and radrats, they even passed a few caravans. Occupied homes seemed abundant along the roads they followed. They crossed at least three settlements along the way. It seemed like everywhere they went Silvia was recognized in some form, often offered a meal and a place to sleep. No one questioned the synth's presence, as if being with her made him acceptable.

The second night, after a long day of walking with Nick carrying her bag most of the way, they reached an old pieced-together shack somewhere near Covenant. They'd been greeted by a family who knew Silvia and were happy to have her. She was fed and given a new pair of jeans. (the old one having ripped at the knee when she took a tumble).

The two children couldn't pull their eyes away from the old synth, and he gave them a little 'boo' while Silvia was eating. They ran away squealing and laughing and Nick smiled. They'd be back, and by the time Silvia had cleaned up and changed clothes, Nick was telling the kids about how him and Silvia rescued a cat for a little girl in a vault. They were enthralled, and Silvia was smiling for the first time in days. She watched from a doorway for a few moments.. then turned and went out to the back porch.

It was quiet now, and Nick sat with Silvia on the edge of the back porch, watching the stars move across the mostly clear sky. She had grabbed an inhaler from her little blue med bag. He didn't complain. He never had a serious problem with it unless she was chemming on the job and she refrained just for him, but that night she just wanted to sleep.. really sleep. One hit from the little red bottle and she laid her head against Nick's shoulder. He wrapped his arm around behind her and held her close, his cool steel fingers brushing back her hair. It had grown so much over their time on the island. It covered her neck now. Covered the deeper burns hidden behind her ear. Of course, none of this was visible in the dark. The camp fire was long out, and the farming family they were staying with had already turned in, Leaving nothing but the breeze and the critters and the darkness.

She leaned against him for a long time and he didn't move. She drifted in and out of a light, quiet sleep and he watched her, no cigarette, no talking, just his yellow eyes glowing in the darkness of a sleeping wasteland and her light, even breathing ruffling the collar of his coat.

-------

Hancock was braced against the rain. It was coming down again, and didn't show signs of letting up. He still had a mile to go before reaching Diamond City and it was a slow trudge with the mud that had churned up over the course of a day. He'd left the frock coat at home, opting for a black trench and dark, brimmed hat pulled over his ghoulish face. At least it'd be easy getting in with the weather like this. He just hoped it was worth it.

It'd been nearly a month since Silvia's lone letter arrived in his den, and he'd been broken hearted when two weeks passed without a word from the woman he.. What was it now? Seemed an hour ago he had the good feels, and now they were dark.. greedy.. but it was still love. He loved her, no matter how much he hurt.

He'd heard word that a dark haired scavver with a pip-boy and a personal synth was coming down from Salem, and he knew who it was. And where the pair would travel first.

He'd fought with his own sense of pride over whether to search for her or not. And in the end, he really just figured that seeing her with Nick would tap the last nail in. (Deep in some aching place in his heart, he knew she'd never do that to him, but it was hard to feel sometimes.)

Not long after she'd left he'd had some of his guys build a greenhouse, something Silvia had told him he needed.. she even picked out the spot. He'd had it built along the wall in front of the third rail, just in sight of the balcony of the State House, and it'd been filled with planters.. Now, almost 2 months later, the greenhouse was flourishing. Greenery spilled over the sides of planters mounted three tall on the wall. Carrots, melons and mutefruit covering the side of the brick building. And everyone was pitching in to earn their share. Just like she said it would happen.

He'd had men clearing out the streets around Goodneighbor. John and Silvia had talked about taking over some of the other buildings, opening up space for a gambling hall or a casino. The woman had some great ideas. Now John had two buildings being repaired and new city limits were being mapped out. They'd add another block to Goodneighbor in the next couple of months, and already he'd found people who wanted in on the space.

None of it had ever been in the plan. Goodneighbor was never supposed to be... good. But it was getting there. Sure, there was drama and more than a few fights each night, and the drug flow never ebbed.. but no one could deny that Goodneighbor was a pretty damn good place to live, if you could deal with the atmosphere.

It would probably never be Diamond City.. but hey, that's not a bad thing.

When he reached Diamond City at last he got lucky; thank the rain. There were guys outside trying to stack sandbags around the main entry to the city in an attempt to hold back the water. The guards were busy, so he went right on in, giving them a wave.

He made his way down the alleyways of homes and shops to the dark corner with the big red heart flashing over it. Standing in that secluded corridor, his hand on the doorknob, he hesitated. He could find just about anything in there, and the worst thoughts were always the strongest. With a frown he turned the handle.. locked. Huh. Alright. He could wait. But even with the rain, they should have made it by now.

Back around the loop of allies he traveled til he reached the noodle shop in the center. He could keep himself busy for a while as he waited, watching the ramp leading into the city. So he ate some noodles, bought some jet off the local guy and flaked out on Fallon's railing for a while, but more than anything, he just waited impatiently.

With the persisting rain, it got dark pretty early, but Diamond City did shine at night, that was for sure; every storefront and street light was on, and a halo covered the town thanks to the great big lighting arrays that surrounded the stadium.

It was already dark when Nick entered the city with Silvia not far behind. Both were soaking wet. Nick looked tired.. but his partner looked near dead. Her face was dark.. he couldn't tell why, she had a brimmed hat over her eyes to block some of the rain so it was hard to see much. She was slouching, like her carryall was way too heavy.

She stopped at the bottom of the ramp and the bag fell off her back. In the darkness Nick turned to wrap his arm around her waist, preventing her from falling forward. John rushed in, splashing through the mud as Silvia doubled over, Nick supporting her with both arms.

The limber ghoul scooped her up in his arms and held her against his soaking chest, giving Nick a steady look before lowering his black eyes to Silvia.

Her hat fell off in the motion. Her face was.. dark. Now he understood why he couldn't see it so well; There was bruising across both eyes, the edges just turning dingy and green, the lids swollen and barely opening. Her cheeks and nose were a little dark, too, sweat plastered to everything, her lips broken and bloody.

Nick looked wide eyed at the mayor. "What the hell are you doing here? Nevermind. Hurry, go!" Nick waved the ghoul on, looking around to make sure no one had noticed. He grabbed Silvia's pack and rushed to catch up, hissing the words. "Are you insane? Some of these people hang ghouls! And a few of them want your head specifically."

"I can handle it, Nick." he growled out as the detective took lead, rounding a dark corner so he could unlock his office door.

Silvia's face pressed into the ghoul's chest and he could feel her body heaving in quiet sobs. Each one made him feel helpless. When the door finally clicked open Nick stepped back and John pushed past the synth to reach the bedroom through a narrow hallway.

Nick rushed into the office area to find something, throwing file cabinets open all around the room, checking desk drawers and cursing.

"John?" Silvia whispered. It was a word he thought he's never hear her say again.

"I'm here, darlin'," He carefully laid her down in Nick's bed, over the blankets. "Tell me you're ok, Silvie.." Hancock pressed a knee into the mattress beside her hip. The ghoul was touching her face with his fingers, studying the bruises.. She stopped him by grabbing one of his scarred hands in hers.

"John.. please.. Don't leave.. Please..?" She sounded delirious.. did she know he was really there?

John held onto her hand, his forehead touched hers and her eyes closed.. he sighed. "Nothing could pull me away from you, sunshine." he whispered.

Nick stood watching the two, somewhat confused. Right up until he saw Hancock plant a soft kiss on his partner's lips. He cleared his throat to draw the mayor's attention then passed him a pack of Radaway. "She'll need this even more with you around." He snapped.

"She's seen a doctor?" He spoke softly, securing the bag and it's drip line above the bed. The needle was pressed just under the skin and it only took a moment for the thick fluid to start draining into her arm.

"She needs to see Amari. No normal doctor can do anything for her."

"It's not radiation?" He glanced back.

"Yes. Some.. No. No.. It's DiMa."

"What's 'Deema'?" He turned to look at his dark haired beauty, closer now, wondering what she could have contracted on that island.

"Not a what.. a who. It's really.. really complicated. I'll tell you when she's .. when she's resting. But with the fever she might start seizing again. John It's not pretty. I can handle it-"

"No.. she's mine.. I'll take care of her." John said firmly.

"What?" Now he was sure he had a fried processor.

The ghoul looked up from Silvia's bedside, black eyes a little more glassy than normal. Oh..

"She's..." He shook his head, his face hidden once more "... Thanks. For bringing her back. I owe ya, Nick"

"Yeah.. and I'm gonna collect soon, Mister Mayor.." He left the room, confused. There was no way to tell what made Hancock so loyal though. No. Loyal was probably not the right word.

Hancock removed the coat and hat, pulled off his boots and climbed past Silvia's prone body. He didn't care if it was Nick's bed, there were no plans for leaving her side. Perhaps ever.

When he'd shifted into the right spot and she seemed comfortable with her shoulder pressed into his chest and his lips near her ear she spoke again. The sobbing had stopped, but there were still tears rolling down her puffy cheeks.. he watched them from the pillow beside her.

"You're not a dream, are you?" Her voice was cracked.. she needed water, but when he went to move she reached for him again.

John's scarred fingers found hers and tangled between them, grounding her. "Not a dream. I'll be right here when you wake up, darlin'. I promise."

Her hand stayed in his long after she drifted into sleep.

He was awake the whole night. Nick checked on them a few times, but Silvia slept soundly.. more than she had in days, in fact. Nick wasn't about to complain about having John in his bed as long as Silvia was resting.

--------------------------------------

Nick didn't explain much, but in whispers he told John about the submarine base, the computer and it's program, about DiMa and his synths. All of it made the mayor angry, but he wasn't sure who to focus it all on. The sounds kept Silvia from sleeping though, so John shooed Nick away to let her rest. He stayed beside her, awake, most of the night as she slept.

--------------------------------------

Something was on fire. A building or a pile of wood. She couldn't really tell this far away.

The smoke was the only feature around her. Deep green and red mist gusted across barren hillsides, not a tree or building in sight. Just the fire. She walked on and on but could never reach the flames, never felt the heat.

It was getting louder though. It started as crackling and popping and scratching. Then the voices.. they'd been there the whole time, right? Screams, crying, pleading voices calling out to her.

No progress. She walked forever and still the fire was unreachable. Then she ran. Faster and faster til at last, when her lungs started to burn the fire came closer. As did the sounds. The screams were of fear, panic, calling out with questions she couldn't answer. At last the fire was before her, burning tepid and loud in a great hole of rock and dirt. A mighty hill of flame rose up from the center. No building or kindling inside, but hundreds of living breathing people fighting against the flames like the bars of a cage. The called to her, whining, pleading, begging, demanding. They clawed and grabbed at the flame prison.

The heat never came.. just the incessant sound. It grew so loud it was nothing but static in her ears and she tried to cover them to muffle the cacophony. Nothing worked, and when it was finally too overwhelming she let out a mighty shrek, voice breaking into a million lines of smoke as her frustration shot from her lips and flew through the air as a thousand little nukes.

The cage went up in a mushroom cloud, the fire extinguished, the voices dead. Silvia saw nothing but black, there was quiet all around.

Then it was darkness, quiet and pain. She was fighting to breath and something was holding her arms against her chest. More blackness, more screaming. Not the same screams, though. Something distant and beckoning. She wanted to fight through the blackness to find the source, but something still held her down.

A pinpoint of light started to grow in the distance. Silvia watched it grow slowly into a flame. There was still a weight on her chest. She tested her limbs, found them penned against her chest by a strong arm, felt the weight and warmth beside her. She started to hear that voice again.. it was so close all along.

John whispered to her as he held her. Her seizure had passed and she was dazed, mumbling and fidgeting all over the bed. She couldn't understand most of the words, but he kept saying he wasn't leaving, he wasn't leaving.. how did he know that's all she wanted. When she finally found his face, those black eyes she loved so much, she smiled til her lips hurt. She heard him laugh.

"You are so beautiful" He teased weakly, exhausted. She could see his lips, but hadn't the strength to kiss them. They faded from focus and grew dim, then became clear again. She finally closed her aching eyes with a pained whimper.

He nuzzled his face against her hair and sighed. "Just rest, Silvie."

Nick let out a long breath. "I think her fever's breaking. We need to move her before it starts again." He was leaning against his dresser on the other side of the room. His coat and hat were off, his tie hanging low. He had wrapped a rag around his metal hand so he wouldn't hurt her while the men held her down during her seizure. He was unwrapping the rag now, trying not to watch.

The question was on John's lips, but he bit it back. There was no point in voicing his annoyance, he didn't know all the details, but he was sure Silvia shouldn't have been dragged across the Commonwealth for Amari if this DiMa guy would have done something.. anything.

Nick could read the scowl. "That place was killing her. It's that simple!" Nick snapped the words. "It's not the 'Wealth, the air there was making her weak. Amari can help her.. it's all numbers and programing, she can handle it." He'd produced a cigarette and stuck it in his mouth. His metal hand waved the lighter as he spoke. "I did what I thought was best, John."

"Right.." He pulled his eyes from the synth and looked down at the woman lying beside him. She'd fallen asleep once more. The swelling had gone down some and she almost looked normal, except for the bruising. "How'd this happen, anyway?" Hancock asked as his fingers swept hair back from her face and around her ears.

"Infection. Bad one. She kept her eyes open somethin' like 10 hours. Doctor at the harbor pumped her full of every antibiotic he had, said there's no telling what got in them.

"It still looks bad."

"She's still real sick, John." He said matter-of-factly.

The ghoul grunted and climbed out of the bed, it's motions shaking the sleeping woman enough that she protested and swatted at his stomach blindly. When his feet hit ground he stopped to kiss her chilled forehead.

"Then let's fix that. We should leave while it's still dark, still cool." He was pulling on his boots as he spoke. "You know if it's raining?"

"Stopped a few hours ago." Nick pulled off his tie and tossed it on the dresser before walking out of the room. "Hurry up, we can get there before sunrise if we try."

Neither spoke as coats and hats were donned . Hancock woke Silvia enough to help her change her sweat soaked shirt, then sat her up on the edge of the bed so he could put socks and boots on her feet. As he kneeled there she watched with wide pupils and a blank stare and he wondered how she's made it all the way back to Diamond City like this.

"Baby we're gonna see Dr. Amari. She's gonna fix this, alright? But we gotta do a bit of walking to get there."

No reply. He finished the laces and looked up at her.

She was still staring. It must be painful. He reached a scarred hand to her cheek and pressed his warm palm against her cool skin. "Baby?"

"Baby's fine... Just want to sleep a little more, Nathan..." Her eyes closed and her cheek laid against his palm heavily.

John's dark eyes narrowed.

Nick surprised the ghoul, speaking from the office. "Bathroom's in the back of the office. You.. Uh... Think you can help her?"

He shook Silvia's shoulder to wake her again and tried to get her to stand. Once she was on her feet she seemed a little less dazed and walked herself into the bathroom with him close behind.

Nick wrote a quick note for Ellie and was leaving it on her desk when they came out. Neither spoke as they left. Silvia was walking, sure, but unsteady. Hancock stayed beside her through Diamond City and out the gates, but as soon as the roads started to turn to rubble things got rough. Silvia was awake by this point, but clumsy and weak. In the end, John simply carried her halfway, Nick took the other half. There was very little said between the three as dawn came and Goodneighbor came into view.

Chapter Text

Silver flashed across the afternoon sky in broken lines on a green bellowing background. The dirty allies of Goodneighbor glistened, muddy and slick and wet, mirroring the receding storm flowing past. Strong gusts pushed thick green clouds out towards the coast. The growing light of day fought the storm, breaking through in pin points and little bursts like shining stars of hope in the streets of hell.

Depthless black orbs reflected all of this back onto the Commonwealth. Mayor Hancock stood against the brick wall of the State House, a black coat surrounding his slim figure, sweat shirt and jeans underneath and a scoop front fedora that partly covered his ghoulish face.

A cigarette hang between his thin lips, the smoke drifting up around his hat and into the ebbing drizzle. There was a blade in his hand, a stiletto he'd found in Silvia's boot the night before. The blade end was held, the handle close to Hancock's face as he studied the grooves carved into it. Lots of them in 5-count-tallies, spread out around the handle in little groups on one side. And two tallies on the back. Older, warn, deep enough to risk the integrity of the wood.

His cigarette was nearly gone, lost, thanks to John's preoccupation with the blade. The weapon was one more reminder of all the little things he didn't know about Silvia.

The click of metal and wood interrupted his brooding. Nick came down the stone steps of the State House, digging in his overcoat pocket for his own cigarettes. Nick looked tired, if that was even possible for a synth. John was watching him from under his low hat, the blade still in his hand.

After a moment the detective joined John against the wall, lit one cigarette and held it out as he lit his own. John dropped his spent stub and took the smoke wordlessly. It hung from his lips now, burning away as the last one had.

John flipped the blade around, handle falling easily into his palm. It was a nervous habit, one he didn't put much thought into, spinning the blade in his hand deftly as the skies finally cleared.

Neither of them had much to say. In fact they hadn't exchanged a word since arriving in Goodneighbor.

They'd had enough luck to make it into town just after dawn with no real problems. It was slow moving, but quiet. Seemed like everything decided to sleep in just for them. Unfortunately Doctor Amari was sleeping in as well. John had passed Silvia off to the synth and bashed at the door so loud his own guard came out armed. The yelling woke the Doctor, however. Nick tried to explain, John complained and rushed everyone along, and Silvia was left crying, her head pounding from the yelling and the movement and the voices.

The doctor finally had enough, chirped out a few words that had both men kowtowed and ordered John to make Silvia comfortable in one of the pods while she spoke with Nick. Silvia was fighting the tears by this point, trying hard to keep herself calm. When he scooped her off the couch once more, she wrapped her arms as tight as she could around his neck and refused to let go. She was shaking, and he was worried he'd scared her. In fact, he was sure he had.

He'd been quiet since. Receding into himself in a way Nick hadn't seen in years. Now, leaning against the State House, Nick could see the a dark look in the ghouls eyes that surpassed the pitch black colour. John's lips stretched into an unconscious frown as he watched the blade fly from and into his fingers again and again.

Nick let the ghoul keep his silence, puffing away at the cigarette til the ashes fell on their own. With his good hand he pulled his hat off to look into the clear noon sky.

The mayor seemed stuck in his own dark cloud, huddled in the coat and hat as if hiding from the world. He'd picked a bad spot.

Nick tossed the last of his cigarette to the ground and crushed it. "Coming with me?"

John let out a little sigh and gripped the handle tight on the last flip. "Yeah." He stuffed the stiletto into his boot and tossed the cigarette aside. Without another word he headed across the street to the Memory Den, Nick close behind.

The place seemed empty. The memory pods all vacant and no one around to greet them. John removed his coat and hat, Nick headed to the back of the big room and down the stairs to Amari's lab. He was greeted with Amari's voice, talking to herself in some language the detective didn't know.

Silvia was still in the pod she'd been left in hours ago. She seemed to be sleeping, eyes moving under her bruised eyelids. He was glad to see her so peaceful; no fighting or mumbling.

John was staring at her from the doorway, keeping his distance, perhaps.

"She's going to be famished when she gets out of there." Amari didn't pull her eyes away from the screen. Her fingers clicked across the keys as she spoke. "And someone get her clothes that don't smell like a wet mirelurk?"

"Yeah." John turned and left the room.

Amari stopped long enough to look back, then returned to her furious tapping.

"That mean you're about finished, doc?"

The woman made a sound. "I haven't even started. There is so much alien code mixed in with her memories I don't... It will be difficult to separate the two." She shook her head.

Nick looked grim, eyes turned back to the dark haired woman in the pod. "mmm.. any idea how lo-"

"No. I'm not even sure if anything can be done. This is.. Outside of my capabilities at the moment. Give me time, Nick. Til then I can give her sedatives to keep the memories at bay." Amari glanced back to find Nick still looking in the pod. "Nothing in her head is lethal, but I do think the coding is causing the seizures. Sedatives might limit them.. however..."

"I get it, doctor, nothing is certain." Nick grumbled, defeated.

"Precisely. I should be done downloading in a few moments. She should be awake soon after."

Nick finally looked away from the pod to Doctor Amari. "She gonna be alright to move? John's got a room for her at the State House."

"Yeah.." Her attention was on the screen now and she waved a hand to shoo him away.

Nick dropped into a metal chair to wait, rubbing his face with his good hand. He knew he was wrong. She should have gone back to DiMa.. and if she'd been able to protest, she would have stopped him, reasoned with him. Amari just wasn't equipped to deal with this. His poor judgment might not get her killed, but it'd caused her more pain than she deserved.

The old synth didn't notice John's return. He was standing in the doorway with a brown paper bag in one hand and a bundle of clothes under the other arm. The ghoul hadn't entered the room, and was once again staring at Silvia.

Nick watched him openly, frowning. What the hell had the girl gotten herself into? Nick was having a hard time dealing with the mayor's attachment to his partner. In all the time they'd traveled the island she'd only told him of the work they'd done, of dispatching Sinjin and his people, of saving Kenny and playing the Silver Shroud. But she'd not talked about Hancock more then saying they were friends. Friends. Not something Silvia kept many of. But he wasn't her keeper, he never pressed. Still.. it was more than friends, that much Nick was sure of.

John moved, catching the synth's attention. He tossed the bag and clothes on a chair beside Nick and walked back out wordlessly.

---------------

Half an hour later Silvia was sitting in that chair beside Nick. She had an IV drip pinned to her arm and a couple of sensors attached to her forehead. She'd changed into clean, dry clothes and was eating slices of melon and a baked tato. The roasted radstag meat hadn't lasted. So far she was keeping it down and Nick was thankful for that.

Amari tapped away at her terminal somewhere across the room. She'd gone right to work on the coding, pulling it apart at one terminal, putting it back together at another. From the sounds she was frustrated, and there was more then a few muttered curse words and bashed keys. Nick was finding the sound disheartening. Once more he wished he'd taken her back to DiMa.

Silvia's ability to read the synth was uncanny. She reached out to his metal hand and touched the back to grab his attention.

Nick looked back to his partner, let out a very human sigh and gave her his best smile. "How's the stomach? Gonna get to keep it all this time?"

"Yeah.. I think." She removed her hand and grabbed another piece of tato, stuffing it in her mouth, careful of her painful lips.

"Good.. when you're ready we'll go to the State House."

She nodded and finished off the tato in silence, her gaze down and her shoulders slumped.

Nick stood, grabbing her old clothes off a table and stuffing them in the crumpling paper bag. He left Silvia alone to talk to Amari, tell her they were leaving. The Doctor dismissed them with a wave of her hand, fully fixated on screens of code.

---------

Hancock hadn't been seen in hours.

Silvia was in her room now. Well, Nick silently assumed it was the mayor's room. A little fancy, but the ghoul was eccentric, after all.

Nick flipped his way through a couple of magazines as he perched on the couch across the room.

Silvia had stretched out in the bed over the blankets and for a while she drifted in and out of sleep. It was hard to focus her attention on coherent thoughts; They kaleidoscopes in her mind, flashes of old life mixing with new, her husband in a colonial overcoat and hat instead of his uniform in a military photograph. DiMa reading the newspaper in the living room of her old home, standing cold and stiff like Nathans body.. John holding Shaun in the grass in their back yard, inside her white picked fence, a great mushroom cloud beyond.

The last few days had played hell on her mind. More than anything she just wanted dreamless sleep.

She finally pulled herself up to sitting, her back against the headboard with a pillow beside her arm. She was sore all over, weak, and that was probably the most she could move at the moment.

Nick watched her shift and scoot around til she was somewhat comfortable. She tried to look hopeful for him, but it wasn't working. After a few minutes Nick left the couch to sit by her feet on the bed. It shifted under his weight and creaked a little. Then there was silence again. Nick wasn't sure what to say.. and hadn't worked up the nerve to say what he needed to say.

Silvia was just too drained to hold a proper conversation.

"Kid..?" He mumbled at last.

She looked at him, eyes half closed and body slack. Still, she managed to smile for him. "Hey.."

"Hey.."

They were silent again.. She breathed, he whirred, the world went on beyond the doors for some time. It must be dark out, she thought, there was no light coming in the windows.

Nick's gaze fell and his shoulders slumped. "I messed up."

"Uh hmm" She breathed.

He lifted his face to look at her. Asleep? Maybe. "I'm real sorry, doll." he whispered.

"Mmm, s'ohkay"

He scrunched his synthetic face and humphed. "Sedatives that good?"

"S'not jet, but it's not bad." She smiled just a little. "want some?"

"Can't, Ellie does random drug screenings."

She snirked. "Keeps you in line, huh? Bet she misses you."

"Maybe. I left her a note."

"mm.. Still. maybe you should go home."

"What?" Nick narrowed his eyes and stared at the woman.

"I'll be fine..."

"Not gonna happen, kid."

She sighed and looked at him again through hooded eyes. "Might take weeks for Amari to fix this. Go home, Nick."

"Sick of me, huh?"

"It's the smell." She closed her eyes again.

"Hah... Maybe one more day, yeah?" He patted her ankle.

"mm hmm" She nodded a little. "sure.. then one more.. then one more.."

"What can I say, I like the abuse."

She laughed this time, and it brought a smile to Nick's grim face.

Nick stopped talking, letting Silvia drift in and out of sleep, her head tilted at an odd angle against the headboard.

The old synth kept right on watching his partner. She was breathing easier then she'd been in days. The circles still surrounding her eyes were a muddy green and yellow. The swelling was gone, at least. She'd been eating, and this time she'd kept it down, which was a good sign.

Maybe the memories would sort themselves out.. he wasn't feeling very hopeful. Not when she fidgeted so much, even awake. She kicked at his hand once or twice, a sneer on her broken lips. She mumbled, and he wished he could understand the sounds, but it was hushed and hurried and a mess of syllables.

She whimpered painfully and opened her eyes, they searched the room wildly then landed on the synth at the foot of the bed. "Dim... Nick.. Where... Oh..." Her shoulders slumped. "Oh.."

The old synth shook his head. He needed to find Hancock, make some plans. "I'm gonna get Daisy to sit up here with ya for a while.. that alright?"

She looked at him through tired eyes, neither agreeing or disagreeing. "Where are you going?"

"Gotta get a message out to Ellie, that's all. Don't.. move. Alright? Just stay in bed, I'll get.."

"Where's John?"

"I.. uh.. I don't know, kid. Ain't seen him in a while. If I do though, I'll send him up." He patted her leg and stood.

"mm hmm.. yeah." Her eyes fell closed again and Nick hurried out before he changed his mind.

Chapter Text

This wasn't the time to be out, Nick Valentine realized as he hit the street. There was an argument to his right, out by the main gates of Goodneighbor, and he heard gunshots beyond the wall. As he descended the stone steps and turned left a boom filled the streets and ghouls and humans alike ducked. Nick grabbed his hat and did the same, stooping low for a few second before registering that the explosion was too far away to do any harm. Maybe a car.. or one of those flying Brotherhood deathtraps. It didn't matter, and as he turned another corner to enter The Third Rail, the explosion was forgotten.

Charlie was kind enough to point to the back room when he saw the synth enter his bar. Of course Nick wasn't here for the drink. Nick left the robotic bar tender to tend to paying costumers and headed straight for the closed back room's big iron door.

Metal tapped on metal, the knuckles of his right hand rapping at the door made a distinct sound, one Hancock recognized.

"Go away."

Nick barely heard him, heard another voice, a woman? And then a grunt. So, being the curious fellow he was, Nick pushed the door open and stepped on in.

Hancock sat strewn across the couch, a pretty green bottle beside his leg and a vacant look on his face.

On the couch across from the mayor, directly to Nick's right, was Salvador and a dark skinned girl with a shaved head. Sal was shirtless and the girl at his side was giggling as her fingers ran through his dark chest hair.

Hancock gave the detective a stupid salute and a toothy grin. "How's it goin', Nicky?"

"You busy? Someone been askin' for ya." He pointed up with his good hand.

"I'm in a meeting." He replied flatly.

The synth stared with cold yellow eyes.. Hancock laughed and shooed him out of the room. "You take care of it, I'm busy."

"I don't know what the hell happened between last night and now but get your ass upstairs or I'll drag it up there myself."

"That a threat, Nick?" The ghoul grabbed the colorful bottle beside him and fished out an orange pill. "Cause I could use a fight." That toothy grin spread and he eyed the synth.

Nick pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd long understood that Hancock didn't do anything unless he wanted to. "Fine, be a bone head." He turned and left the door open as he walked out, hands stuffed in his coat pockets and a sneer on his cold lips.

Hancock kicked his boots up on the little table in front of him and leaned his head back, dropping the little orange pill into his mouth.

Salvador cleared his throat.

Dark eyes gazed across the room, narrowed on the guard and his woman. There was a sound somewhere between a cough and a grunt and Hancock spit into the corner of the room, a wet orange pill hit the wall. "Don't say a fucking word, Sal. You got no fuckin'-"

"Moron. It's been months and she still wants to talk to you, that's a good sign, don't ya think?" Sal was playing with his girl's hand as it rubbed his chest. He looked as relaxed as the mayor had been moments ago. And it was starting to annoy Hancock.

"And you're the expert?"

The girl laughed and kissed her hunk's scarred shoulder. "He's an expert.. else I wouldn't still be with his ugly ass." The guard grinned and kissed her smooth head, a lazy smile settling on his bearded face.

"First Fahra, then Nick... now you... Just stay the fuck out of it, will ya?" The couch creaked as Hancock stood. He grabbed his coat off the back of the couch and left the room, boots clicking steadily up the stairs and out the door.

He was greeted to a cool breeze that eased the heat on his neck. Another month at least before cool weather hit, but the breeze was nice. It cleared the ghoul's head.

He went rummaging in the coat hanging over his arm and produced a cigarette and lighter. Hancock took a moment to puff the stale tobacco to life then proceeded left, around the corner, avoiding the front gates.

Hancock wasn't really considering his steps, his mind turning in a drug hazed conflict about picking up where he left off months ago. One side arguing that she wasn't really worth the trouble. Sure, he'd been in a panic the night before, but now he wasn't so sure of his feelings for the alien eyed woman. Or, more accurately, her feelings for him.

The other side was winning, the side that said fuck it, see what happens. There was no point in dragging it out anymore. She was right fucking there. So what was keeping him away..

His drug addled mind didn't (and maybe never would) recognize that he'd been woman-less since she'd left months ago. Or that he'd been working endlessly on the little projects they'd talked about. It wasn't accredited to her. He was the mayor, he was doing what he had to do.

On opening the door to the State House, Hancock came face to face with the captain of the Neighborhood Watch. She didn't give him the nasty look he was expecting, simply stepped aside to let him enter and left as soon as there was room.

It was no wonder, they'd been arguing since he returned with Nick and sick Silvia. Oddly, Fahrenheit argued that Hancock should go talk to the woman.. and Hancock was sure she was doing it just to piss him off.

After the two passed wordlessly, Hancock dropped his cigarette butt, stomped it out and ascended the stairs in the foyer.

The door was partly open and Hancock gave it a little tap.. then pushed it the rest of the way open and stepped into the room. Silvia laid with her back to the door in the bed, over the blankets, wearing shorts and a white t-shirt. She might be asleep, he wasn't sure.

"Silvie?" He whispered. Nothing. "Silvia?"

"mmm... not this timum nmm" She murmured and pulled her knees up closer to her stomach.

Hancock froze. Dark eyes watched her settle again. The sun was starting to set, light coming in through the blinds at odd angles, drawing lines across the dark room.

No amount of logic could convince him this was a good idea.. but instinct was screaming 'be near her' so he tossed his coat onto a chair, pulled off his boots and climbed into the bed behind her, atop the blankets. He didn't touch her, didn't know if he could stop once it started, so he just laid there and listened to her shallow breaths.

It wasn't long before she scooted back, having felt the warmth radiating from him and seeking more. Hancock opened his midnight eyes, watching her dark silhouette against the yellow and neon from the window.

He laid his hand on her lean hip and splayed his fingers, letting his palm cover as much of her side as it could.. she let out a content sound and he could just picture that shy cat-like smile she got whenever he touched her hair or her hand. He closed his eyes and buried his face in her dark hair.

Hancock hadn't intended to fall asleep, but there he was. And it was good sleep, judging by the soft snoring and their refusal to answer Nick's knock later that night.

Nick had only peeked in, seen the two shapes in the bed and clicked the door closed again quickly. And so they were left undisturbed the whole night and well into the morning

-----

Silvia was curled up against her ghoul, chest to chest, her bare legs tangled with his covered limbs, her arms crushed between them while his wrapped around her. He held her close, her head tucked in against his shoulder. It should have been uncomfortable; Silvia hated sleeping with her clothes on, and the blanket was still under them, but having Hancock within touching distance made everything better. And so they'd been for hours, because waking up isn't easy when you've got a good deal of drugs running through your system and a mini heater as a bed mate. But the drugs had to wear off eventually.

A dull but growing ache in the back of her head and an itch behind her lids woke her. It was only an annoyance and Silvia drifted in and out of consciousness, catching glimpses of the ghoul through hooded eyes.. there came a point when neither was sleeping, but being close was as good as breathing, so they stayed, wordlessly holding one another while the world went on without them.

At some point she woke to his fingers in her hair, playing with the long strands that invaded her vision most days. She caught him smiling, remembered he liked it long more than the near shaved scalp she left with. When he notice her looking he lazily moved his hand, wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close to him. She felt his warm lips on the top of her head and sighed happily at the contact.

"John.." she breathed.

"Shhh..." He whispered against her head. There was no argument, she fit herself against his body and let him hold her, once more drifting into light sleep.

He was awake, sober and done fighting with himself. She was there, he had what he wanted. There was no point in pushing her away, no matter what had happened on that island. That was settled. Wasn't it? It wasn't easy to chase the darker thoughts from his mind, but he was trying, he was cutting each one off before he could start to dwell. She'd give him answers, he told himself; she'd explain, it would all make sense and everything would be fine.

There would be no jumping to conclusions. He'd learned that lesson often enough, about time it stuck.

Damn, this optimism thing can be really hard sometimes. How did she do it? Did she anymore? He puzzled on these things for some time, waiting for her to wake. Waiting to learn what was left of the Shroud, what was left of Black Bear. And hoping there was something left of the mysterious Silvia.

Thunder rumbled deep and long right through the brick and wood building just after noon. Silvia shivered and held on to his shirt. His arms had already been around her, they squeezed a little tighter. After a moment she laughed and relaxed into his hold, smoky grey orbs seeking out his face.

The ghoul seemed relaxed, his eyes hidden behind ruddy lids. Her hand slid up his chest, to his neck, then over his cheek, thumb tracing across his thin lips. He let her touch, soaking it up like radiation. Her cool fingers soothed his scarred cheek and he could feel those haunting eyes on him.

She wondered if he'd changed any; wondered if he had any new scars, wondered what he'd done over the months. She wondered if he still spoke like a poet and walked like a pirate. He looked the same, but she knew it'd be years before she would memorize all the lines in his face, the wrinkles at his eyes and the turn of his lips. It was as good a time as any to start; her fingers danced down his temple and cheek and to his mouth, where her thumb had been. She found she loved his rough skin.. then hated herself for remembering Nathan's stubble.

It wasn't fair to John to compare. Her husband was a coward. Her husband was a bully. Maybe the only thing the two had in common was the drugs.. No. That wasn't fair either, there was no sign Hancock used steroids or testosterone or.. whatever else Nathan was doping up with before.. before.... No, there was nothing to link the two.

She wouldn't compare.

John was something entirely else.

John was kind, willful.. stubborn. He was driven, decisive.. sometimes in the wrong ways. She knew he was dangerous. She'd seen him kill, knew he'd do it again for the right reasons. Or.. maybe for no reason at all. She knew this, but what frightened her more was that she understood and didn't care.

This wasn't Boston, this was The Commonwealth. This was the glorious future! The rules had changed. Now, there was only one rule: survive at all costs. At some point she'd come to terms with that. Like it or not, Nathan was dead, Shaun was in a safe place, he'd been taken care of, and she couldn't go back and change any of that. What was left but survival? It's all anyone had.

Yet he still wanted to make life better, if only for his own little kingdom. He was trying. How could he be like that in this cruel place? It mystified her.

He was a product of this chaos. He was in his element in his world, and she respected that. She remembered thinking he wasn't a good man, danger alarms ringing in her mind at the first sight of him. Now that she'd let him close, she knew there was a good man in there; somewhere behind the mask he wore, the armor he used to keep the world at bay.

And she was lucky enough to see the prince he could be when no one was looking.

Her face nuzzled in against his neck and she took a deep breath. Old velvet and leather and spices.. why did he bring to mind the scent of oregano.. he smelled so good to her and she was happy to soak up his scent. When he realized what she was doing a chuckle rumbled in his chest.

"Never met anyone who liked the smell of ghoul.." He cooed.

"You smell like oregano..." She giggled and kissed his chest.

"What?" He sounded insulted.. she laughed.

"Oregano.. it's a spice. Like parsley or cilantro."

He was silent. Her laughter grew, muffled against his faded cotton shirt. "You smell good."

"Oh.." He was at a loss, so she kissed again, making his voice rumble pleasantly in his throat. Ghouls can purr? It was a nice sound and she responded with a coo of her own.

He pressed his thin lips against the top of her head and rumbled softly. "You smell like clean clothes.. like when my mom hung out laundry to dry on the line."

Silvia knew what he meant.. she kissed again. "Tell me about her?"

"Don't know anymore. Haven't spoken to her in years. But she use to make mirelurk cakes for my school lunches.. and she cut my hair when it got too long. And she hid my weed from dad a few times." He smiled at that.

"What's her name?" She was surprised to know the woman was still alive. Maybe she was a ghoul too?

"Martha. Lives in Diamond City.. Tried to get her to come out here once, but she's not cut out for this kinda life.. Don't think Dad would be too thrilled if she came to visit."

Now.. well now she was confused, and she lifted her head to look at him.

He caught that look. "Got ya thinkin' huh? You know the rules, darlin'..."

Oh right, the rules. She was quiet a moment.. then shrugged. "I had a brother once.. Joseph. We called him Joey. He took over my dad's place when he died, had a nice big farm, 6 kids, named them all after stars. Real hippy."

"Not around anymore? What about his kids?"

She went silent again and John assumed she was deciding how much to tell him. She sounded so heartbroken when she spoke that he felt bad for prying. "Gone. All of them gone.. for a long time now."

"Your mother?" His rough voice was soft and near her ear where he laid a kiss atop her hair.

Again the thunder cut them off and shook the window panes. Noon was a memory, the clouds brought night on hours too early.

She shook her head. "Gone too. But she died when I was real young. Barely remember her. Hell I don't even have a picture anymore." In fact she had no pictures.. not even of Nathan or Shaun. With a sigh she closed her eyes. The pain in the back of her head was growing.

"I think my ma would like you. You're polite.. she's all about manners. Might try to stick you in a dress though."

"I might look good in a dress." She protested.

He smiled. "I bet you look amazing in a dress. Prolly even better without one..."

"mmph... Snake."

"sSsSss.." He hissed into her ear and she ducked down, trying to hide.

He laughed and gave her a squeeze.

"So your mom's in Diamond City?" The curiosity was hard to overcome. "How's that work?"

He laughed. "She's a smooth skin. Dad is too. So's my brother. All normal humans."

"You.. you're gonna have to explain. How?"

"It's a long story. Took a drug I shouldn't have. Didn't care at the time what it would do to me... Hell, didn't care for a long time after, either. It mummified my insides, dried out my outsides, I lost a few lbs of tissue along the way, my nose, a toe.. turned me into this fine creature eventually . A nuclear blast worth of radiation in a syringe. Now I'm beautifully preserved and damn near immortal." He tilted his head down to get a look at her.

She was pondering all this.. and then she looked at him.. really.. really looked at his face, his eyes, his lips. He wasn't sure he liked it.

"So... How old are you then? Not pre-war. You never did strike me as pre-war ya know."

That was it? He laughed and shook his head. "Not quite that old."

She's stopped looking at his face so closely in favor of kissing it, the bridge of his nose, his lips, his chin.

"Mmm... guess It wasn't the worst trade off. And I still got my charm."

"Ladies still flocking to you?" She laid back again, her head on his arm.

"Probably. Haven't noticed. Had my mind on other things." He kissed her forehead.

"Really? I thought.." She stopped herself..

"You thought I'd have another girl lined up right behind ya, huh?"

She was silent.

"And I thought you'd ran off with Nick or some guy you met outside the Commonwealth... and we're both allowed to think those things.. cause we don't owe each-other anything." He said flatly.

"Yeah.. I know I got no right to be jealous."

"Wanna change that?" He asked softly.

She considered those words a little too long.

"It's fine, sunshine, just playin' around."

"Really?"

His turn to be quiet. And it was a long silence. She listened to him breath and to the little rumble in his stomach. At last he gave her a squeeze. "No."

She was just as quiet, mulling over the choices and consequences til the headache had grown into a throbbing pain behind her eyes and she could feel the pressure at the base of her neck.

She was quiet far too long. John gave her a little poke on the shoulder and shifted again so he could look at her. "Ya alright, Silvie?"

He could clearly see the pained look on her face.

"Yeah.. Just.. need an aspirin."

"Amari gave you sedatives, right?" He was sitting up to go looking when Silvia grabbed his shirt.

"Nooo... No more sleep. I've so sick of sleeping.. It's still in my head when I sleep, it's still there." She whined, sounding almost hopeless.

John sighed and sat back in the bed. "Alright, no sedatives. Med-x? Keep your stamina up?"

"You a doctor now?" She tried to smile.. he gave her a goofy grin in return.

"I just know my uppers and my downers. We just gotta keep ya level til Dr. Amari figures out what's broken, right?"

"The only thing that's gonna fix this is going back to the island. DiMa has to do it. He knows the code, he can just... pluck it out." She sat up at last and rubbed at her sore eyes.

"Then why the hell did Nick bring you back?" The ghoul rose from the bed. He searched the room for a can of water as Silvia pointed to the pill bottles on the desk. He turned each one to read it.

"He thought he was helping. And he did.. the radiation would have killed me."

"Alright, but the radiation sickness is almost gone now. As soon as you're recovered we need to take you back, right?" Now holding a bottle, he gave it a little shake, then tossed it to Silvia.

She didn't even try to catch it, it landed on the blanket beside her and she scooped it up. "I could go back. Or maybe it'll sort itself out. It's not bad right now." Two aspirin where produced and she made the grabby hand for John's can of water.

He sat on the edge of the bed and handed it over, opened. "Not bad, huh?"

"He's not loud right now.. The firewalls are holding."

He gave her a strange look as she downed a couple of pills and nearly drained the can of water. "I get the feeling neither of you like this DiMa guy?"

"He gives me the creeps.. might just be cause he's always up there." She tapped her head. "I don't want to go back, but.. well.."

"So, how do we get there?"

She was quiet. She had that look like the gears were turning so he stood and went searching for the syringe of Med-X he knew was somewhere... aha. It laid in a box behind the tub with a tin of mentats. He grabbed those as well.

"Gonna tell me?" He sat back down, stirring her from thought.

"Huh?"

"Are you going to tell me how to get to Far Harbor?" He poked her nose with a bony finger, lips lopsided in that way she loved.

"Well it's a hike up the coast, just past Salem. There's a guy, Kinji Nakano, he's got a boat that'll take us right to the island. Of course if we don't come back with his daughter this time he'll have someone's head."

"Right.. So Nick was against a snatch and grab? Was that the hold up?" He passed the needle to her but she declined with a shake of her head, one that jostled her hair into her eyes.

The line of questions ended there.

He gave her a gentle look and put the still-capped needle down beside his leg. "It's fine.. If you take the sedatives I'll stay with you, alright?"

"Just a little sick of needles is all. Fuck, here." She stuck her arm out into Hancock's lap and covered her face dramatically with her other arm.

He laughed. "You sure, sugar? You ain't gotta do anything you don't wanna."

"But you think it'll help?"

"I think it might give you a better kick then a cup of coffee or a shot of vadka, but you're not gonna be fighting muties any time soon. I'll be stickin' with ya no matter what, darlin'." He took the hand she'd thrust his way and pulled it up to his lips.

"Just get it over with, then."

He carefully unclasped her fist and kissed the palm of her hand. "Hold that for me?" He closed her fingers around the kiss.

She giggled. Damn he loved that sound.

She didn't feel a thing til he removed the needle. She opened her eyes as he was pulling her close to him, her arm folded up against his body, her hand still closed with his kiss inside. She felt his lips on her forehead and laughed. "I saw that. Only half?" Silvia asked.

"I know a light weight when I see one. Only half.. and if you feel like you're crashing you better tell me."

"Just don't let me get hooked on this stuff. Mentats.. maybe. Two books a night.. Best way to relax."

"Same here, makes me feel.. intellectual." He spoke with that poet's flourish she adored.

She nuzzled against his chest, laughing. "Is that how you win elections?"

"Oh no, I do that the old fashion way; Threats and bribery."

"I thought that was how you picked up girls."

"Seems the girls I like can't be bought." He reached up to play with her hair. "Can't blame a ghoul for tryin', though." He paused... "Be honest.. did you like any of it?"

She raised her eyes to find him more serious then she expected. Oh.. "I liked all of it.. The bubble bath was just amazing.. the bed and the blankets.. It's all-"

"Presents aren't your thing, huh?"

She gave a little shrug. "Just don't feel the need for possessions anymore. Having a place here though.. that's real nice. Doesn't have to be this fancy though."

"Think you'd want to stay here for more then a visit?

"I want to..."

"But?"

"But I don't know what I'm doing or where I'm going or who I even am right now.. and it's not right to-" He sighed and she stopped talking. He was easy to read in that moment; he was sick of that line.

She stood, frustrated, a little angry that he didn't understand. He grabbed her arm tight enough to sting and stopped her from walking away. "Silvia."

It was all instinct from there. Her fist went into John's face. It was a weak punch, barely turned his head. The shock is what got him. He let her go quickly and looked at her, black orbs wide and lips agape.

Sanity hit her like a hammer to a nail and her brows knit into worried lines, big grey eyes widening with guilt and regret "John..."

So damned difficult. In his frustration he balled his fists and growled out his words. "Are you ever gonna fucking trust me? Look, You and me are going to Far Harbor. I'm gonna prove I mean it, I'm not leaving you. An' Damn it woman you got some shit to prove, too." He stood stiffly.

"I'm sorry.. I thought you would.." She stammered, her face drained of color.

"Oh baby.. no.." He deflated, reached out a hand to touch her arm where he'd grabbed her as he whispered. "I'd never try to hurt ya, sunshine." He kissed her forehead.

"I.. I know." She didn't sound convinced, in fact she seemed.. scared?

He sighed and ran his fingers through her hair, touched his cheek and her ear and her face with both hands then leaned close and kissed her lips, and was relieved to feel her tense muscles relax.

Her voice was quiet, breath soft against his lips. "I'm sorry, John.. I.."

"Shh.. Not another word, gorgeous. Get some clothes on, I'm gonna find us something to eat."

Chapter Text

It's a good thing the town could run on it's own when Hancock wasn't around.

He didn't have to dictate every move, every action. No, he'd assigned jobs along the way, over the years, and moved people around to better suit their needs. It'd taken a long time, but now it all worked.

Schedules, notes, shipping orders and wanted posters hung on the wall of the State House den, the central hub for Goodneighbor operations. Over time the den had become a dining hall/lounge for his crew. A kitchen had grown along the left wall and the right side of the room had couches and chairs and shelves covered in magazines, games, books, beer bottles and drugs. Most of the Goodneighbor working crew passed through the room at some point in the day.

The Mayor had done well for his town, he even had a treasurer. Andrew, who'd been sleeping in the room on the first floor for years. Turns out he'd done the books for the guy before Mayor McDonough came along. McDonough fired him and brought in his own guy. Andrew had been hanging out in Goodneighbor ever since. He ran errands for a while, then his skills came to light. Now he was keeping up the books for most of Hancock's trades and constructions.

Of course Fahrenheit took care of security, and had her own crew. She put the names on the board in shifts, made sure each one got paid. Daisy had wanted nothing to do with Hancock's little government project at first, but lately she'd been cooking for the crew. She could be found in the den most nights, dolled up in a nice wig and a fancy dress or pant's suit with an apron over the top. Tonight she was showing Lil how to peel tatos while Wyatt argued with her about the right way to cook them.

Hancock was welcomed with a wave from the current cook, Lil, who was just sitting and reading while a big pot bubbled on the stove. Reading as in.. looking at a baby book full of letters.. well at least the kid was trying. Daisy was on the couch smoking a cigarette, across from Deacon, of all people. The spy had a dog up against his side sleeping. Hancock grinned and leaned over the back of the couch to pat the dog on the head; Silvia would be excited to see her.

"When did you get here?"

Deacon tilted his head back to look at Hancock. "Last night, but tall, dark and shiny said not to wake you guys up. I'm not convinced you were sleeping." His brows wiggled, his glasses started to slip off his face so he sat back upright quickly, hand on his face. Hancock put a hand on his head, crushing the black wig. How did he get that thing to stay on so well..

"None of your business, brahmin breath. Where's Nick, anyway?"

"Headed back to Diamond City early this morning. Said he'd be back tonight or tomorrow. The old man gets around, huh?"

"Yeah. He's easy to spot. I guess you know what happened?"

Deacon shook his head. "Only thing I knew was they went to Diamond City then came here, now Silvia's sedated with a brain injury."

"Huh.. well I guess that's about the extent of it." Hancock shook his head. "She's not willing to take the sedatives though."

"Right.. how bad is it?"

"Fuck if I even know. She's got some synth's memory codes in her head or something."

"Hancock.. what does that even mean?"

The ghoul laughed and shrugged.

Daisy cleared her throat. "Maybe you should ask her, Deacon." She stood and went back to the stove where Lil was forgetting to stir the pot.

"Yeah yeah, I will when she's awake."

"She was up when I left." It was just a twinge of worry, easy to hide, but now he wondered if he should have left her alone.

Seconds later he heard the door across the hall click. His lips turned crooked in that stupid little grin. Deacon smacked his arm. There was a cigarette between his fingers, offered to the ghoul. John took it and made his way to the other couch, not wanting to look like a creep and stare at the door til she entered.

Floppy Dog, on the other hand, was up and over Deacon's couch and bouncing past people to get to her person. She whined low and sorrowful like a hound dog and was out the double doors within seconds. Silvia's voice rang out pleasant, if a little cracked, there was a thump from where the dog must have pushed her back, but nothing else. Silvia howled playfully back at the dog, speaking in a high voice, telling the dog she missed her.

Floppy Dog cut a path through the den with her wagging butt. Her whip like tail knocked against Silvia a few times as the dog ran between her unsteady feet.

Hancock patted the seat beside him as Silvia came closer. First she dropped into the couch, one leg tucked under her, then the dog took over her other side, forcing Silvia against Hancock's side. He was pleasantly surprised when she stayed right there to play with the dog, no hint of uneasiness, no twitching of her hands or hiding her face. Seeing she was comfortable eased him more then he realized it would. He relaxed in his seat and watched Silvia play with the dog, who was making her way into Silvia's lap by rolling over and over on her owner, still making that pathetic whining sound. There was no doubt the dog missed her.

She was so caught up in playing with the canine she didn't notice all eyes on her.

He was glad she didn't notice.

Daisy and Lil went back to the stew pot, Wyatt was bumming a cigarette from Selma. Hancock reached over and scratched the dog's neck. Silvia turned to look at him, tired eyes pulled into tight creases at the corners as she smiled. She looked exhausted and the urge to hug her came on. Why fight it, he thought, and pulled her close, kissed the top of her head.

She stayed resting against him as she cuddled the dog. He'd left the cigarette to burn out on the table beside him in favor of playing with her hair. And that is how Silvia's head ended up in the mayor's lap.

Deacon witnessed the whole thing as he told Silvia about the dog.

She'd been right, it turned out. Somehow the dog was drawn to synths. P.A.M. was trying to calculate the probability that the dog was synthetic, Deacon was pretty sure the dog caught on to the synth's radiation immunity, and Tinker Tom thought the dog was an alien shape shifting robot capable of reading minds. One night he said the dog could talk.

Desdemona sent Deacon to Ticonderoga to test the dog out. Then he decided to try it on some people he knew were synths.. so he went to Bunker Hill and Sanctuary. It'd all been the same. Deacon wasn't naming names, but he knew enough synths and non-synths to take a base line.

Silvia was pretty sure she knew why the dog picked out synths, but it was so much more fun to let them have their theories.

That, and she had no intention of telling them about Shaun. Ever.

"We started calling her Ginger." Deacon said at last.

"Aww, not Tyger?"

"I thought that was one of her real names?"

Silvia laughed. "Guess it is now, good job, John."

The mayor grinned.

"She looks good. I guess she's not been in any serious fights?" Silvia was petting the dog who lay half on her chest.

Deacon shook his head. "She's not a scrapper, she'll hunt something down, chase it up a tree or away if it's small enough. But she keeps clear of the big stuff. Coward."

"Smart, you don't walk into a fight you know you can't win." Hancock reached over and scratched the dog's head.

"Maybe, She has brought things back for me to take care of, but I figured it was just her running blind."

"Doesn't matter. I'm taking her back, ya know.."

"Yeah.. Tom's not too happy. And I think Des' has grown attached."

"I know how you people eat.. was expecting a butter ball." Silvia was talking to the dog more than the people. She made a kissy face and the dog licked her chin again, whining happily.

"We'll pack extra rad-x and take her with us, yeah?" Hancock ran his fingers through the woman's hair calmly, trailed a finger down past her ear and cheek. Her nose wrinkled up and face scrunched up just a little.. she was fighting the tickles. He gave her a stupid grin.

"Yeah... Yeah that'd be good." She stared up at him contently. His beautiful mystery.

He felt her relax against his thigh. It was good to know that, for once, she wasn't going to run off. He'd finally penned her down. Or, rather, the dog had penned her down, and he just happened to be part of the furniture.

Still playing with her hair, he looked over at the two cooks. They'd saved the pot of food and Lil had been chored with slicing carrots and dumping them in a bowl. Deacon was telling Silvia about the Brotherhood dropping a fleet of vertibirds on University Point a week ago. Wyatt was preparing for his next shift with a couple of mentats while he wiped down his gun and sorted ammo.

Hancock sank into the couch and continued to play with his woman's hair. There was no way he was going to let her cut it again. Wonder if she knew that yet.

"So what ya gonna tell us about your super secret mission to the icy north?" Deacon grinned below his glasses.

"It was kinda warm, to be honest. And humid."

"Meet anyone interesting?" He pried.

"Yep." She started making the kissy faces again and got the dog's attention. Floppy was trying to bury her face under Silvia's arm.

"Aww come on, give me somethin'!"

"It's just a bunch of fishermen, a couple of Atom fanatics. The usual mirelurks.. well some of them look like salamanders.. slimy salamanders that drop out of trees." She made a face. "There's really nothing on that island but a lot of radiation and some stubborn fishermen. I'm not sure what to tell you, Deacon. We went to find a teen runaway, that's all."

"But she didn't come back with you." It wasn't a question. Hancock shook his head, but Silvia seemed to miss it.

"She met some guy, didn't want to leave him."

The ghoul butted in, "I say give her a week and this boy's gonna be at the top of her shit list."

"Yeah, hoping you're right."

"So you're going back to get her and taking the dog? Can I come?"

"do you like boats.. oh and how do you feel about hermit crabs the size of a small bus?" She grinned.

"Sounds like my kinda thing, actually. And Hancock said something about synths?" Deacon didn't really speak any lower, if anywhere was safe it was the State House.

Silvia gave John and very strained look.. alien anger was a scary thing.

"I'll tell you about it some other time." She looked at Deacon in a way that ended any arguments he might have.

He blew a raspberry at her. "You better."

"Hey..." Hancock brushed a slim finger across her forehead and she looked up at him with smoky eyes. He moved his hand down her body, tangled his fingers between hers and pulled her hand to his thin lips. "Think you can eat?"

She nodded some and pulled his hand back down so she could kiss his fingers as he had hers. "Just wanna clean up real fast."

He held on to her hand to help her sit up and she took the assistance gladly.

The dog followed her out of the room, of course.

Hancock grabbed the tin of mentats he'd snatched earlier and stuck one in his mouth, then tossed the tin to Deacon.

"She looks fine, Mayor. Sure you're not just-"

"She's not doing any work right now. Let's just clear that up, alright?"

"She know that?"

"We've got plans. You'll have to wait in line."

Deacon stared at Hancock through dark glasses... and the mayor was very aware of this. He stared right back.

"Hancock, she's important to a lot of people. There is no chance of you claiming her like you did that hat or this town. That line is a lot longer."

John crunched down on the mentat he'd been tounging. "Ya know she keeps telling me the same thing."

"Hah... Hah! Of course she does. You picked the wrong horse to break."

"That is not what I'm trying to do. She's not my horse." Hancock ground out the words.

"That's not what I meant. Filly. Or is it colt? Don't know a damn thing about horses-"

"But you know who she's hiding from, don't you?" Lean legs stretched out and Hancock leaned forward some in his seat.

Deacon didn't answer.

"You probably do.. But I don't care who it is. If she needs me..."

"Heh... she has that effect, huh?"

Hancock wasn't too happy to hear that, but it didn't show. "She's somethin' else, yeah."

"Well I do need to talk shop with her for at least a few minutes. Mind if I stick around for dinner?"

"Yeah, sure. It'll keep raining, might as well stick around for the night."

"Thanks, Mister Mayor!" Deacon fled. Literally; Over the back of the couch as fast as he could.

The ghoul leaned back again. He scanned the room as he lit a cigarette. Fahra had come in with Sal. The two had stepped right in front of Deacon to get their food. Wyatt was finished eating and washing out his bowl as he spoke to Fahra.

And Silvia was still gone.

Lil had vanished.

A woman who'd been staying in the attic while her son worked the cleaning crew had come in at some point and was eating in a corner, soon to be joined by Sal and Selma.

And Silvia was still gone. So maybe he was a little possessive. Just concerned he told himself.

Deacon returned and ate and talked. Fahra came to join them after she finished eating, but he wasn't listening and she could tell. Silvia was still gone.

John stood suddenly, "Sure... yeah, whatever you need to do. Hey, save a bowl of that stuff, will ya?" He didn't stick around for a reply.

---

She could still hear the dog whining inside.

Floppy had followed Silvia into the bathroom, laid calmly on the floor while Silvia washed her hands and face... then waited patiently as Silvia stared into the mirror. She'd started feeling wobbly going into the bathroom, the voices crept into the quiet room soon after.

She left the bathroom feeling ill, and turned left instead of crossing the foyer to the den.

Floppy Dog was left outside her closed bedroom door. She found the bottle of sedatives on the table beside her bed and popped one in her mouth without much thought. It was a sure fire way to shut down the voices, and would stop the shaking.

The firewall warning chimed through her head while his voice, of all things, reminded her that the pills should be taken with two ozs of water and a light meal. So he'd invaded her memories now, dictating memories of pre-war medical advice and counting out doses that she herself would never care about. She decided to grab the Med-X off the bed as well.

Silvia stepped out onto the balcony, out into the rain. It was cool.. nice and cool. She'd hoped it would be; The State House could feel so stuffy, especially with all the people roaming in and out. Strangers, many of them.. well she knew Hancock's people. And of course Daisy. She'd met a few of the others, but there were always a handful of faces she couldn't place. And it always worried her.

Outside, in the rain, a cool breeze and an early darkness sinking in, she dropped to the ground with her back against the railing and worked the needle free of it's cap. She really hated needles, but the sedative would dull down the voices and the med-x would even her out enough to stay awake.... right? She mulled it over, the needle against her skin.

A pinch later she sat there, a light drizzle coming down on her head and into her face. She could see the lights flashing beyond her eyelids as lightening danced across the evening sky.

DiMa still droned on in the back of her mind.

When the sedative finally started to kick in she dropped the syringe and laid her head back on the railing, just letting herself float in and out of wakefulness.

The voices were still there. She couldn't focus on one over the others, couldn't separate her own thoughts from the random bits of code that pretended to be thoughts rattling around in her head. It all just wove in and out of each other, merging into one ever changing image/sound/mess in her mind; It was slightly better than one voice screaming about firewalls and a dozen more whispering deep inside her head.

She wasn't fully asleep, she knew it was raining; It was nice to feel water hitting her face and the rumble of thunder miles away. It was nice to hear the street lights tick and the barrel-fire below complaining about the dampness.

When the voices in her head finally dulled into a hum in her ears, she realized the other voices were gone as well; the real ones. For once it was quiet. She'd missed quiet.

Silvia fell asleep with her legs stretched out on the balcony floor. She slept through a shower that soaked her hair and her clothes and probably her socks under her shoes.

--------------

When Hancock went looking he found Floppy Dog laying in front of the bedroom door and expected to find Silvia in the bed beyond.

She wasn't.

She wasn't in the tub and wasn't sleeping on the couch.

Floppy went straight to the balcony door and laid down again, whining.

Hancock groaned when he opened the balcony door and found her stretched out in a puddle.

"Bad place for a nap... Alright, darlin'..time to get up" He kneeled down and shook her shoulder. "Silvie. Silvie. Silvie." He tugged on her arm and she turned her head to look at him with a tired, blank stare. "There we go. What'd ya take?"

"Mmm..." She gave him a stupid grin.

"Took the sedative anyway, huh? Alright. In bed.. shit.. and the med-x?"

She nodded.. he bit his tongue. It took some work to get her to stand. He was soaking wet too once they got back into her room.

At last she sat on the bed. On her own, for the most part. He was trying to get her shoes off and she was trying to lay down. "Hold on.. let me get this shit off you. Me and you are gonna have a talk about this later, ya know."

"Mm... yeah.. buffout woulda worked way better. John are my pants wet?"

A grin split his lips. "They are. We gotta get em off ya. You mind?"

She whispered and shook her head. "I don't want you to see my panties.."

"You really are a lightweight.. I've seen your panties already, sunshine. Com'mer. Shirt first." He tugged the shirt up over her head, trying to get her arms to raise.. she kind of obeyed, in that the shirt came off, somehow. No bra to get wet, seeing as she never wore one. Then she was laying back in the bed and Hancock was trying to get her jeans off.

"John.."

"Yeah, doll?" He pulled at the waist of her jeans

"John..."

He gave her pants one last tug and they finally let go of her hips and squeaked off her legs. "What's up?"

"I don't like having wet panties."

He laughed. "Right now you don't." She was smiling too.. but it slid from her face as she drifted out again.

When he tried to move her under the blanket there was nothing mobile about her. It was just like the night before. She'd sleep this one out by morning, and he intended to make sure she ate this time.. while he explained to her what an idiot she was. Maybe some buffout would help though.. she couldn't just sleep til they reached Far Harbor, he couldn't carry her.

He sat on the bed beside her and watched her sleep til he was sure she wouldn't be back up. She wouldn't notice he was gone. And he'd be back by the time she woke.

-----

Somewhere in the night Silvia woke to find the room dim and quiet, a small furry body pressed against the back of her legs and a glass of water and some snack cakes on the table beside her.

She sat up in the bed and looked around the clean room, at the clean water, at the dog.

This isn't right at all.

She reached to pet the dog.. it didn't vanish under her touch, just wiggled the tip of it's tail a little.

Right... Goodneighbor. Right. She was fighting to crawl out of the muddy mess of sleep and trying to grasp the now. Damn it the sedatives had been a bad idea. There was just nothing to grasp on to. It was quiet and dark and comfortable and she started to drift into sleep once more.

Hancock was around.. maybe not with her, but she was sure he wasn't far away; the knowledge that he was near was like a warm place in her chest. It was like when her father came home late from work and she heard the front door open and close in his way. It'd always comforted her as a child. She had that sense of calm now, but wasn't sure why, didn't care why either. Maybe his voice was carrying in from another room or she could hear his boots on the stairs. Maybe it was all just the drugs lulling her into a false sense of security.

Thankfully Silvia was asleep again before that thought had a chance to take hold.

Chapter Text

It rained for three days

Silvia had been ordered to sit on her ass til the rain stopped. That wasn't working out very well. Silvia wasn't the "Sit on her ass" kind of girl. And Hancock knew that, and knew he wasn't going to be able to keep her in bed, so when he found her in the den cooking with Daisy there was no argument at all.

By day two Hancock knew he'd be increasing the food budget once they got back from Far Harbor.

Silvia had made Deviled Eggs. Real ones. None of that boxed stuff. While she insisted it tasted nothing like the real thing, and Daisy agreed, the entirety of Goodneighbor proclaimed it the greatest thing since running water. Right up until the gas set in. And that is why Hancock declared that real Deviled Eggs are only allowed in Goodneighbor on very windy days.

The next day she was baking sweetrolls. Of course there was no cinnamon, but Daisy had brown sugar and they substituted mutefruit jam for the glaze. She'd not forgotten how to cook, that was true, but it was hard working with limited resources. Daisy was a wealth of substitution information.

She ended up spending hours baking that day. But paid for it that night when the headaches came on and the firewalls came down and the voices screamed the loudest. Hancock convinced her she needed rest somewhere around midnight and she fell into a medically assisted coma beside the ghoul as he read 'A Tree Grows in Brooklyn'. She didn't think he knew it was one of her favorites.

Hancock had that little talk with her about the meds, and she knew he was right. She had no idea what any of it would do to her. She didn't know there was a reason you didn't mix Med-X with other crap. So she gave in to his expertise easily. He was a pro compared, and she knew it.

So she'd tried his mix of Buffout and sedative and waited. She felt sick for the first half hour, but as the meds kicked in she relaxed. Hancock took note and made a couple of changes the next morning. He knew the voices still plagued her, but she was coping, it's the best he could hope for.

It was still raining on day three. The mid day shifts had just changed, everyone had filed out into the rain to work or stop working, the den was almost empty, just Silvia and her dog and Wyatt with his head on a table.

Silvia wasn't at the stove, for once. She'd put something in the oven and left it to cook and now she was curled up in a corner of a couch with the dog on her leg. She'd opened the curtains around the room and was watching the rain fall just beyond the glass.

There'd been three days of rain. It was holding off her trip, making Hancock restless. Silvia knew she should be stir crazy by now, ready to leave, ready to run, but those impulses never surfaced.

Three days of sleeping in every morning with John. Of waking up to his smile and his kisses. Of his voice overriding the ones still roaming her mind, despite the drugs.

She'd had three days of rest, of cooking meals she'd forgotten she knew how to cook. Of chasing her dog through the state house and out into the rain. Three days of staying up late and listening to Hancock read just for her til she drifted into a heavily medicated sleep.

Three days of normal.

Maybe the best three days since the bombs fell. She didn't think about Shaun at all.. and Nathan only came in dreams.

Hancock was trying to pamper her.. and she let him, just a little. She hoped she was returning the care he gave her with her cooking.

He'd watched her cook each evening.. he just sat with a beer and a bottle of jet and watched her cook with the dumbest grin on his face. And every time she caught him looking he winked at her, making her cheeks warm. The ghoul loved pushing her buttons. And he loved seeing her blush.

As Silvia watched the light dance through the rain clouds she realized just how much she wanted to stay in Goodneighbor rather than travel all the way to Far Harbor. That's when she decided she'd come back when it was all over. She could just forget the past and be here, in the moment. With him. Why was she still fighting it? It was time to stop.

She was looking forward to telling Hancock whatever it was she was going to tell him.

The Mayor had taken Wyatt's shift when the ghoul had come back feeling ill (hungover, actually).

She wasn't even worried about him. For all it's dangers, she knew Hancock was safe in his own town, so just.. being.. was her priority. The voices kept her company, but that was a constant. The dog was licking her arm.. strange habit of hers, but Silvia had grown used to it. There was a pair of jeans on the back of the couch she intended to patch up at some point.. It was all so mundane. All so simple. She wasn't going to take it for granted.

It was easy to forget she'd been cooking, but a look at the clock reminded her. She removed the Baked Mirelurk from the oven. There was a pot full of cob corn and little boiled tatos on the stove. She tried to get Wyatt to eat something, but the ghoul opted for sleeping in a real bed upstairs. Of course Silvia set a little aside in a metal pan for her and John to eat when he returned; The vultures would descend soon and there'd be nothing left.

For the short time the den was empty Silvia threw the ball around the room for Floppy Dog, talking about the rain and promising her lots of treats on the trip to Far Harbor. She filled Floppy Dog's bowl with a mix of leftovers and once the dog was full and ready to chill out a while, Silvia curled up in a couch in the corner of the room, grabbed the pair of jeans and her sewing kit and got to work; Floppy was squeezed in against her hip as close as she could get.

Soon enough third shift started filing into the den and grabbing what food they could find; The same as every night. Luckily, Silvia knew she was cooking for a big family.

Third shift was full of the quiet ones, the weird ones. It made sense. They didn't fill the room with noise as they ate like some of the other crews. Silvia was able to focus on her sewing for a little while.

Third shift filtered out and Hancock was back with his shift soon after. His rain coat and scoop front fedora were both soaking wet. There was going to be a muddy mess in the foyer for someone to clean up.

The baked mirelurk was discovered right away. Wanda, one of Fahra's new sign-ons, was insistent that everyone get in line and get the same portion, and Hancock was watching the woman boss Fahra around like an old pro.

Silvia felt a twinge she knew was jealousy in her gut. It was an odd sensation. She pulled her legs up onto the couch and watched the group of humans and ghouls gather on the other side of the room, scouring the kitchen for silverware and condiments. She watched Hancock pull off his coat and hat and leave them by the door then grab a beer out of the fridge. Someone stopped him, someone stepped in front of her, and that twinge of jealousy hit her again. Floppy had caught on and was nudging at her arm nervously. The dog was just like her, bad vibes and a crowded room had her on edge.

She saw Wanda leave the kitchen and sit at a table with a bottle of Nuka Cola. Much of the Neighborhood Watch swarmed around the stove and dining tables. The rumble of voices grew.

When the shifts had changed and the off-duty Watch was sitting around the Den at tables and on couches eating; everything got a lot quieter. Hancock sat at a table with Salvador for some time going over a new patrol for the block they were about to open up.

Silvia was nearly finished sewing up one of the rips in her jeans by the time John came to sit with her. He dropped gracefully into the seat beside her and leaned in to kiss her ear. She didn't look away from her sewing but a smile crept across her lips.

"You eat yet, sunshine?"

"No. Hid yours in the same spot as last time, get me some too?"

He grinned. She knew just how to make him happy. He reached over with a scarred hand to touch her face, pulling her gaze gently from her sewing. "You're gonna spoil me."

For just a moment she was able to ignore everything else, the sounds in the room faded away and all she saw was his face; his bottomless black eyes shining just for her. Her cheek pressed into his hand and she found herself kissing the ghoul. The sewing was forgotten and she let herself sink into his touch, his taste, his scent. He rumbled pleasantly against her lips, teasing with tongue and teeth. His lips left hers after only seconds; It still left her breathless.

He contenued to touch her face with a rough hand, watching the red leave her cheeks and her dusk grey eyes open, lazy and glossed. His lips pressed to her mouth once more in a quick peck.

"Don't move, I'm not finished." He teased.

Hancock left her flustered and smiling so he could get them a plate of food. He'd had another stove hauled up so they could cook bigger meals, but it still wasn't running right. knowing that as soon as the vultures descended there wasn't going to be much food left, Silvia had stashed sweet rolls in it a couple of days before. It wasn't a secret, but it was understood that it was Hancock's stash, so no one was going to touch it.

"So you should get to sleep early tonight, we're leaving early. Rain or shine." He came back with two plates. Silvia wasn't sure she could eat but she would try. He'd already started, a chunk of mirelurk in his mouth.

"Sick of waiting, huh?" Silvia asked.

He didn't answer, just held another chunk up to her mouth and waited.. she snapped it right out of his fingers and he laughed.

Silvia picked at her food, but ate enough to make Hancock happy, and John had seconds. For such a bony thing he sure could eat.

"This is nice" She said more to herself than John. He was finishing off his second plate. She'd sat hers aside

"What, the food?"

"No.. just.. here. All this. It's nice." She shrugged.

He scoffed. "If you like it why don't you-"

"Alright."

"What?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, finish your sentence." She glances over, offered up a coy smile and stuck a chunk of tato in her mouth.

"What?" Hancock was staring. So was Fahra from her table. She must have overheard.

John was being a little slow, so she got to see the light fill his eyes and a smile that grew infectiously. "Not a visit?"

She shook her head.

Hell yeah was written all over his face. He wanted to kiss her, but settled for pulling her up against his side and holding her close. "Ya know.. We figure out a way to turn you ghoul we could do this full time."

Silvia snuggled against his ribs happily. "I don't know if I wanna go that far.."

"How far ya wanna go?"

She laughed and kissed his chest. "We'll see what happens, hmm?"

"I can handle that." He went back to picking at his plate of food, tearing off chunks of meat with greasy fingers. "But if this is gonna work, I gotta ask ya to do somethin' for me."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Never.. ever.. and I mean ever... cut your hair as short as it was again.. please?"

She raised up enough to kiss his cheek. "I promise. Anything else?"

"Mmm.. Nope, I like you just the way you are."

"As long as my hair's not short?"

"Just so I got enough to play with."

"You gonna grow your hair out for me?"

"Sure, I'll work on that. Fahra? Cancel my barber appointments for me, I'm growing my hair out!"

He got the response he was looking for, his tired crew got a laugh and Hancock felt like a prince. Her prince. Does that make me a princess? Hah.. some fairy tale.

"What color was it?" She asked in a hushed voice.

"Blond. Long and blond and full of curls and tangles."

She laughed. "Really? Like the Dandy Boy apple kid?"

"Nah, I was much better looking." Hancock grinned.

"Still are. Blond hair. Huh."

"What did you think it was?" He asked, tilting his head to look at her.

"I... honestly.. I never considered it before now. I don't know.."

He was grinning. "Ever wonder what color my eyes used to be?"

She thought for a second as she looked at them. "No, not really. Well, I have looked for colors in them.. cause.. cause when the light hits them just right it's beautiful." She was blushing. He shifted so he could cuddle her with both arms around her. Screw the food and the greasy fingers, this was so much better. She laid her head against his chest and closed her eyes contently, her arms around his narrow middle.

His turn to whisper. "I really get to keep you?"

She nodded against his chest. "mm hmm."

He squeezed her tight, kissed her head, "About damned time." he said softly.

Chapter Text

The road opened up ahead of them and at last trees came into view. Silvia pulled a blue ball from the pouch on her belt. She whistled for Floppy Dog's attention and threw it out into the road ahead. Stripes flew as Floppy bounced after the ball.

Silvia was geared up in armor, a rifle strap across her shoulder. Her hair was down and uncovered for once so she could enjoy the cool air that was starting to settle over the Commonwealth.

Hancock was a few meters ahead of her, his shotgun resting on the arm of his brilliant red overcoat. He seemed relaxed. He always seemed relaxed. It was infectious.

"So what's it like?" he asked as Silvia threw the ball again.

"What's what like?"

"Having another voice in your head."

Silvia stopped walking for a second to look at Hancock. He was still watching the road ahead as they left the last stores and shops of Boston. He gave nothing away; it was just a question. Floppy came back with the ball and Silvia started walking again, tossing the ball far ahead.

They'd been quiet since exiting the gates of Goodneighbor early that morning. Now that the danger of the city was fading into the background, he wanted to talk. For once she wasn't against the idea.

"It's.." her voice broke the silence for but a second, then nothing, but the ghoul was always patient with her. "Sometimes it's just thinking in someone else's voice.. Like.. It's all the stupid stuff you think about every day; did I brush my teeth, where are my socks, ew, mirelurk brains... But sometimes it's not me thinking it. Sometimes it's like someone else is saying it behind me or something."

"But just sometimes." He glanced back. "Sometimes it's pretty bad?"

"When the meds start wearing off it gets loud. And then the firewall warning starts. It just beeps and repeats the same warning over and over. Not his voice either. Gives me a headache."

"And that's it?"

"No.. I just don't know how to explain the rest, other than to say there's a person up there that shouldn't be. Mostly he's just a presence. Sometimes he does the thinking." She shrugged as she walked behind him.

He laughed. "Hope he wasn't doin' the thinking last night.. I'd love to see more of that side of ya, long as it really is you."

"Oh no, that was all DiMa, he thought it'd be a great idea if-"

"No no don't tell me that, you're gonna ruin a good thing!"

Silvia's laughter rang against the road and faded into the trees. "Ah hah! So he was right!" She teased.

"This DiMa guy's a little kinky, huh?" He slowed enough to match pace with her.

"Nah, not really. He didn't have anything to do with last night. I don't know if he even has.. those.. thoughts. Hasn't come up in the little bit of coding I got." Once he was close enough she shouldered her rifle and took his hand. The ghoul gave her fingers a squeeze as he listened to her speak. "He's not really sentient, if that's what you're wondering. He's not having his own thoughts, no conversations. Just old, badly spliced holotapes playing on loop in my head."

"Sounds horrible."

"Not so bad with the meds."

The ghoul's dark eyes searched for hers in the shadow of her broad hat "And right now?"

"Right now I'm fine." She pulled his hand to stop him. "Are you?"

"I'm good." He tugged back and kept moving. "Just been wondering what he does up there. How you're handling it." Floppy Dog came back and this time John took the ball, throwing it out into the street ahead. The creature bounced after it happily.

"He's a lot quieter than the other voices in my head."

Hancock was smiling, she could see the pull in his cheeks. Her body bumped up against his side and his arm went around her shoulder in a fluid motion. "Shouldn't listen to any of em." He kissed her temple as Floppy returned, ball in mouth.

"Do you?"

"Yeah.. way too often." He tossed the ball again.

"Guess we both better stop listening."

"Well my voices are telling me to eat. I'm gonna listen." He pointed to Floppy, who was holding her ball in her mouth as she sniffed at a row of trailers ahead. "Let's see if she found us a place to rest."

They came to the first trailer to find Floppy just inside, low to the ground, the hair on her back standing on end. She growled, deep and menacing.

The back of the building was gone, ripped out by some force probably ages ago, nowhere to be seen. The fence beyond the gaping hole was just as torn.

Floppy was growling at the dark figure standing close to the only surviving fence post. Dark; in that his skin was dark, his hair was dark, his glasses were black and his heavy leather overcoat was charcoal. He had an institute style laser rifle trained keenly on the dog.

Silvia moved without thought, wrapped both arms around the dog's neck, her rifle laying useless across her back. "You're not hurting this animal. Put it away." She said sternly even as John leveled his shotgun on the stranger.

"Very well" The dark figure relented and holstered his weapon.

Silvia didn't move. Hancock cocked his shotgun. "Now how about you go on your marry way and this won't get messy."

The dark figure turned his head, looking from Hancock to Silvia. He sneered below the glasses. "Ma'am, I need you to come with me." He said at last, eyes landing on Silvia.

"Like hell!" John took a few steps forward, between the man and Silvia.

"I would gladly rid the wasteland of one more mutation. Ma'am, call off your ghoul."

"You fuckin'.."

"John... wait." She said softly as she stood, letting go of the dog. Standing beside the ghoul she stared into the glasses on the dark face. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Ma'am, I have orders to-"

"I don't care. I'm not going. And we both know what happens if you try to force me."

Hancock never lowered his weapon, but it faltered as he looked between Silvia and the man. He narrowed his bottomless black eyes on Silvia. "Who the hell is this?" He asked. The dark figure remained silent.

John's question went unanswered. "I have somewhere to be. Tell them to give me a couple of weeks. Let me... let me tie up some lose ends..." With those words, John was staring a hole in the side of her head. "Then I'll talk to him."

"You shouldn't delay like this. And you shouldn't be with this.. thing."

"That's none of your business, X9. We're finished here."

"Two weeks, ma'am. It's all the time we can give you. There are urgent matters to attend to." He didn't move. Silvia fiddled with the strap on her shoulder but dared not draw her rifle.

Hancock turned on the courser and raised his gun again. "I think the lady just told you to leave."

The courser nodded to Silvia then turned, walking into the brush out past the busted fence. John didn't lower his weapon til he was out of sight.

Silvia had melted into a puddle of shaking nerves as soon as he turned and was now holding onto the dog, her face pressed into it's neck as the dog barked at the diminishing dark silhouette.

"Silvie what the hell was that?" John's voice was higher than normal, louder too. "Who the hell is he? What the fuck is going on?" He kicked at a bucket on the trailer floor and it went flying out the back.

Silvia tried to quiet the dog who barked fiercely at Hancock. She truly had no idea what to tell him.. so she said nothing, just shushed the dog... and it was maddening for the ghoul.

At last he crouched down beside her and tried to look at her half hidden face. "That was a courser.. wasn't it?" This time his voice was calm. She couldn't meet his eyes.

His shotgun was dropped and he grabbed her by the shoulders. He hauled her up to standing, gripping her painfully, bony fingers digging into soft flesh. He shook her as he yelled, "What the hell is going on? What happens in two weeks? What lose ends? Silvia.. What lose ends?!?" He was rough, he was loud, it made her ears ring. At last he let go and turned away from her.

He growled.. it even scared the dog. "I'm such a fucking idiot.. Figured you used to be a Gunner or something.. ex Enclave. Maybe you owed people money.. I mean everybody's runnin' from something. I could handle you being one of those Atom freaks..Fuck.. Never would have guessed you work for the fucking Institute."

"No.. that's not... mmph!" She fell silent, defeated. "This was always going to happen... I wanted so much to keep you out of it.-"

"Then you shoulda never come back!" he yelled across the trailer.

She winced, but didn't argue.

"You shoulda stayed away, Silvie. I got people to protect, I can't have the institute on my ass, I can't have them in Goodneighbor. If you ever gave a shit about me you wouldn't have-"

"Don't you think I know that!?" She barked. "You kept saying you can handle it, it was your choice... and I was fucking weak. And I miss-" She stopped, looked at him with wet eyes and a red face and wanted to scream out all the frustration that was raising up in her throat like bile. But there was nothing to say, no way to explain without putting him in more danger.. and no point in dragging this out.

He stopped pacing to look at her, unbelieving. "You should have just fucking told me, woman!"

"The more you know, the worse it will be. This was always going to happen." She said again with a sigh. "Go back to Goodneighbor. Keep them safe. I don't think anyone will come , but you should be there just in case." She had to look away from him... her eyes went searching halfheartedly for Floppy's ball.

"How many are in Goodneighbor?"

She looked up at him, this time a little confused. "How many what?"

"I'm serious, how many? Who?" His voice raised again.

"Oh... As far as I know, none from the Institute."

"So just you then?"

"John-" She said gently.

Hancock rubbed his face "Don't."

"No.. listen to me. Goodneighbor was safe. Mostly safe.. I don't think the institute has any active agents there. That's why they couldn't find me til I left. That's why he showed up now. I never wanted to put you in danger.. I never wanted to put Goodneighbor in danger! I should have never come back. Maybe I wouldn't have.."

Hancock grunted and shook his head. "but your brain got fried by some synth." He stopped pacing to look at her, his eyes narrowed to dark slits. His mind was buzzing with anger. "Did you use me, Silvia?"

"I didn't realize how safe it was there til.. well til now. He's probably been looking for me for months. But I never meant to use you..." I just wanted to be near you.. Silvia was resigned, she knew this would happen at some point. Her eyes fell and her breath came threatening sobs, her eyes stung. And everything else was numb, lifeless. "I'm sorry, John." She wasn't sure what else to say.

"So that's it? I go home and pretend none of this ever happened? I have to just forget about us?"

"That's... yes." Her voice lowered.

"No."

"John..." She whispered, pleading.

"I said no."

"Don't do this.. Just walk away while you have the chance! Let me walk away before I get you killed!" She was begging, heartbreak tinged her voice.

"Let's go." His shotgun was hefted to his shoulder and he walked out the trailer door, back onto the road heading north.

Silvia followed behind him, stopping just outside the doorway "John please... Just stop.."

He did, his fist clinched and unclinched and she could see the set of his jaw. "Stop what, Silvia? Stop wanting you.... When I know you want me too?"

She bit down on her inner cheek.

He refused to look at her. "Fuck... What have you gotten yourself into? Do you.. do you really want this, Sunshine?"

The frustration finally exploded. At least this she was sure of. This she knew was true, and he needed to understand it. "It doesn't matter what I want! I told you that, I told you over and over! I don't get what I want, I don't get you! I don't get Goodneighbor, I don't even get this dog.. it's all gonna get taken away from me and I get no say in it. Me trying to get what I want got us here!"

He turned to face her again, his dark eyes looking wet, his scarred cheeks ruddy. What might have been anger moments ago was something else; resignation? Defeat? it made her chest tight and pained to see him look so hopeless.. Her eyes stung with tears she'd fought so hard to hold back.

He couldn't look at her anymore, so he turned north again and started walking. "Come on... let's get you to that island. You still need your brain fixed." He said as evenly as possible.

"But-"

"Save it. Let's go." He wasn't stopping.

Silvia found the ball by the door and clicked for Floppy to come, then started walking. She didn't try to catch up with the ghoul even though it was physically painful to be so far from him. He didn't slow his pace, didn't look back. She realized he didn't know where he was going, but let him go.. there was nothing she wanted to or could say to him at this point.

Hancock rattled a tin of mentats loose from a pocket and knocked three into his palm. He never looked back to see if she was following; he heard the footsteps and the click of her armor; he felt her presence behind him.. he knew she was far back, but fought to keep his pace up, needing the distance.

He knew she had given up. It was the look on her face, lifeless and slack and devoid of light. Devoid of hope. How he had basked in the glow of her hope. But it was gone, he was sure. He'd seen that look before in the weak and desperate; It didn't fit her, she wasn't weak. But she was desperate, he conceded to that.

He didn't have any answers, he didn't have a plan.. he realized he didn't even know where he was going.. but this wouldn't be the first time he rolled with the punches.

After an hour of silence the ghoul stopped and pulled off his hat. He looked back, rubbing his damp forehead. He knew she was back there, but part of him wanted her to be gone.

From under her wide brimmed hat she was watching the water off to their right. The weak little waves lapped at the dirty sand and trash lining the beaches, the gulls picked at dead, rotting fish and there was a crab-like mirelurk picking through a pile of seaweed down the beach some.

She didn't care what she was looking at, as long as it wasn't him. But when she saw the red coat stop she knew the choice wasn't hers anymore. Her head lifted til she could see his face, the shadow of her hat shading her eyes. She'd been gripping her gun so tightly for the last hour that her fingers were stiff. As she drew closer she slid the weapon over her shoulder and gripped her hands against each other, loosening the joints. It gave her something to look at besides Hancock.

"He's still following us," He spoke softly when she was close enough to hear.

"I know"

"Does he know where we're going?" His shoulder bag was removed and John sat it on the road and knelt to dig through it.

"I don't know."

"Will he follow us?"

"..I don't know."

He grunted and the sound made her heart drop. "Which way are we going?"

"The road ends up ahead.. we go in.. uh... basically a straight line over the dunes til we get there."

"Do you think he'll follow us?" He lifted his head, sans hat, to look at her. She couldn't meet his bottomless gaze.

"... I really don't know, but.. they've never followed me out of the 'Wealth before."

He grunted again and nodded. Two cans of water were produced and the bag was closed. He handed one to his companion, along with the dog's bowl, and flung the bag back over his shoulder.

Silvia popped open the can and gave half to the dog as Hancock watched the coast and the treeline. He knew the courser wasn't far behind them, not even well hidden. But as long as they weren't followed out to sea, they should be fine. He wondered how Silvia would take it if he just killed the courser... and found he didn't really care.

Silvia had shaken a few pills out of their bottles and stuffed the handful of them in her mouth, then nearly drained the can of warm water to wash them down. Within a few minutes the dog was finished and Silvia took point.

There was no argument from the mayor.

The pair reached the Nakano homestead with enough light that Kenji could tell it was humans.. he didn't realize John was a ghoul til they were much closer. That's when the shotguns came out. Kenji's wife, Rei, started screaming and Silvia grabbed Hancock by the arm and pulled him behind her.

Silvia was by no stretch of the imagination a smooth talker, but through her bumbling and rambling she managed to calm the couple down. Explaining that he was friends with Nick made him put his gun away, but it was clear they didn't want the ghoul near them.. in the house was out of the question. Kenji was glad to get rid of Hancock, even at the expense of his boat.

She slept. No talking and no food. She slept like the dead and he wasn't sure if she'd taken an extra sedative or if she was sleeping off her sadness. He wasn't sleeping, he was still too angry, and the Nakano guy hadn't really made his mood any better. So he just ate snack cakes from a box and watched her sleep.

They hit the docks of Far Harbor near midnight. Lights twinkled between the roll of heavy fog and muffled music filled the little port's docks. Silvia hitched the boat while John got his land-legs back. He wanted to joke about taking too much day tripper.. but instead they both stayed quiet.

Before they left Far harbor she downed a couple of Rad Away and gave some to Floppy inside a chunk of Cram. She'd slept off the sedatives and the buffout and there was a headache growing in the back of her skull, but she pushed through getting the boat tied off, then started for the roads outside the harbor. Unfortunately it had started to rain. It might have dissipated the fog a little, but the paths were still hard to make out in the dark.

It made getting to the observatory very difficult. John was essentially lost, following the weak trails in the general direction of the dome he could see through the fog. Silvia pointed down the paths she recognized and assured him they were going the right way. He was relieved to reach the top.

Chase gave him hostility and he returned it, what should have been a few simple words turned into a screaming rant between the two, with John demanding to see DiMa and Chase refusing, calling him a dangerous feral.

None of them noticed DiMa and Faraday come down from the roof in the darkness.

"That's enough! Chase; be still." He was firm with the woman. "I'm sure there's an explanation.. Silvia." He moved closer to the woman. "I had wondered where you'd gone."

Silvia leaned against the barricade doorway she'd been left standing in. Her headache had grown into a beast with voices of it's own and she was tired from the walk.

She wasn't given the chance to respond.

"She's been with me. You got one hell of a mess to clean up." The ghoul glared at the synth. John was having a hard time seeing the resemblance between this thing and Nick.

"Silvia, please explain this.... Silvia?" DiMa's cool metal hand touched Silvia's shoulder gently.. John made a low, dangerous sound. DiMa removed his hand and looked back at the ghoul. "Bring her inside. Explain with happened."

Chapter Text

The pair reached the Nakano homestead with enough light that Kenji could tell it was humans.. he didn't realize John was a ghoul til they were much closer. That's when the shotguns came out. Kenji's wife, Rei, started screaming and Silvia grabbed Hancock by the arm and pulled him behind her.

Silvia was by no stretch of the imagination a smooth talker, but through her bumbling and rambling she managed to calm the couple down. Explaining that he was friends with Nick made him put his gun away, but it was clear they didn't want the ghoul near them.. in the house was out of the question. Kenji was glad to get rid of Hancock, even at the expense of his boat.

On the boat she slept. No talking and no food. She slept like the dead and he wasn't sure if she'd taken an extra sedative or if she was sleeping off her sadness. He wasn't sleeping, he was still too angry, and the Nakano guy hadn't really made his mood any better. So he just ate snack cakes from a box and watched her sleep.

They hit the docks of Far Harbor near midnight. Lights twinkled between the roll of heavy fog and muffled music filled the little port's docks. Silvia hitched the boat while John got his land-legs back. He wanted to joke about taking too much day tripper.. but instead they both stayed quiet.

Before they left Far harbor she downed a couple of Rad-x and gave some to Floppy inside a chunk of Cram. She'd slept off the sedatives and the buffout and there was a headache growing in the back of her skull, but she pushed through getting the boat tied off, then started for the roads outside the harbor. Unfortunately it had started to rain. It might have dissipated the fog a little, but the paths were still hard to make out in the dark.

It made getting to the observatory very difficult. John was essentially lost, following the weak trails in the general direction of the dome he could see through the fog. Silvia pointed down the paths she recognized and assured him they were going the right way. He was relieved to reach the top.

Chase gave him hostility and he returned it, what should have been a few simple words turned into a screaming rant between the two, with John demanding to see DiMa and Chase refusing, calling him a dangerous feral.

None of them noticed DiMa and Faraday come down from the roof in the darkness.

"That's enough! Chase; be still." He was firm with the woman. "I'm sure there's an explanation.. Silvia." He moved closer to the woman. "I had wondered where you'd gone."

Silvia leaned against the barricade doorway she'd been left standing in. Her headache had grown into a beast with voices of it's own and she was tired from the walk.

She wasn't given the chance to respond.

"She's been with me. You got one hell of a mess to clean up." The ghoul glared at the synth. John was having a hard time seeing the resemblance between this thing and Nick.

"Silvia, please explain this.... Silvia?" DiMa's cool metal hand touched Silvia's shoulder gently.. John made a low, dangerous sound. DiMa removed his hand and looked back at the ghoul. "Bring her inside. Explain with happened."

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

They had to shave parts of her head. She didn't care anymore.

Silvia dropped heavily into the big metal chair and electrodes were attached to her forehead and scalp in all the little bald places. Faraday stuttered an apology as he told her the last one might be painful. The only way they could do it, though, so he pressed what felt like a thumb tack into the back of her neck and she involuntarily gasped.

DiMa watched her with fixed, smoky eyes. He seemed concerned, and it was unsettling to Silvia, who'd been living with his reassuring voice in her head for weeks now.

"Are you prepared? This will be difficult and may take some time." He spoke calmly and she nodded.

He turned his back to Silvia and looked at Hancock, who sat in a folding chair, smoking a cigarette with his hat on his knee. "Faraday will monitor her vitals and pull us out of the program if anything goes wrong."

He looked angry.. he was angry. DiMa's words just made him sneer. "If anything goes wrong you're not coming outta that thing, I promise." bottomless black eyes glared into DiMa.

"I have no doubt." He frowned. "I will be gentle, Mayor, you have my word." DiMa sounded reassuring, but Silvia was aware of the hitch in his voice. At this point she could tell.. at this point she wondered if she had the same hitch in her voice when she lied. So much of DiMa had become a part of Silvia that she wasn't sure if she'd had one before or not.

DiMa took his place in the big spoon-like chair across from Silvia. His body clicked into place oddly, gaskets sealing and connections made, lights flashing on his body and the chair, the tubes protruding from his back sparked erratically.. Faraday checked the connections and nodded, leaving the three in the cluttered, circular room as he headed for the controls.

Hancock tossed his spent cigarette on the ground and stomped it out, the only outlet for his annoyance. His arms crossed and he watched the woman he loved hook up with a synth, literally. They'd be connected in a moment. And if this worked, she'd stop having the nightmares, she'd stop hearing the voices.. she'd stop screaming in her sleep.

There was a zap of power that filled the air, a few motors started whirring in the terminals around the room and fans kicked on in DiMa's torso to cool his processors. He made a guttural sound and his body went limp.

More flashing lights and the whirr of something building power. Hancock was fighting to stay in his seat. Silvia's big wet grey eyes filled with fear and she looked to Hancock, then Faraday behind the glass wall. It was painful for the ghoul to watch. "I'll be right here, Sunshine.. Promise." He tried to smile for her. She tried to return it.

There was a click and DiMa's assistant spoke over the intercom. "Initiating connection in 5... 4... 3..."

There were a couple of loud pops behind the center mass of computers and the lights dimmed. Hancock stood, his hat dropping to the floor.

Silvia's head nodded to one side and her body sagged in the seat, leaning heavy on one metal arm-rest. Faraday came back into the room with a black box full of tools and a couple of bottles of water. He held one out to Hancock.

John's attention was on Silvia, staring from across the room, searching for signs of breathing.

Faraday cleared his throat. "This might take a while." He didn't seem concerned.

"I'm stayin' right here." He took the bottle and dropped back into the folding chair, scoping his hat off the ground.

"I know."

---------------------------------

This felt right. Like her brain had expanded and there was enough room for everything.

She could breath.. was she breathing? It didn't feel like it.. it felt like her body was making the motions, but there was no air to pull in. This did not disturb her.

It was vaguely like the program she'd been in before.. but so, so much more. The blocks that surrounded her were smaller and moving. They danced around each other, connecting into strange shapes, a buzz filling the space around her. There was light everywhere, coming from every surface. As blocks clicked together, little flashes of blue filled her vision.

The little bug-like creatures she'd encountered before scuttled along under her feet. She followed the flow of little legs, the space changing so much with the pass of every second that she wasn't sure if she was moving forward or back, or at all.

She didn't feel alone.. all around her the presence of DiMa was palpable. Every cube and critter and light was full of him. His thoughts and memories, his very being was stored here and she could feel it clinging to her as if it was seeking to gather her into the fold, consume her whole.

There was no reason for her to fight this. So she didn't, but nothing changed.

It felt like hours had passed when she finally tried her voice. It chimed in the oddly hollow space and echoed back at her in her own voice as well as DiMa's.

"Where are you?" It rang in her ears and echoed down halls she couldn't see. "DiMa?"

He was there, he'd been there the whole time, she was sure. So seeing him standing before her so suddenly was no surprised.

He was whole; It had never occurred to her that he had ever been whole. Until now. His body was synthetic; Like the second gens she came across in the wastes, clean white face with no expression, Lines down his legs and behind his ears and breaking his torso into sections of plastic plates. His eyes shone white and bright, standing out sharply against the blue glow around him.

No wires or tubes sticking out of his back.. No black straps holding his legs together, or plastic wrapped around the unsightly frame exposed below his waist.

He moved closer. Stepped? He was there, either way, standing inches from her and looking slightly down at her.. and she felt safe. His hands rested on her shoulders and she let out a breath that was not air. "DiMa," She closed her eyes and relaxed.

This was nothing like before. The program he'd written to hook her into the Nucleus was painful from the start. It hurt to think, hurt to move. She worked so hard just to be in that strange place. And here.. here she just was. She fit into some space in his 'mind' like all the other cubes, cozy amongst his thoughts.

"I feel like a memory.. Like I was here long ago and left.. and this is all that is left of me." She opened her eyes again to look up at his.

He smiled calmly and nodded. "There is more of you here. All of your thoughts and memories are here. We might not be able to access them but... but we can try, if you like. Maybe it will help you understand how this place works?"

"My memories? No.. That's not why we came here." Panic filled her, though her voice was calm. He could feel it, she supposed, because his arms wrapped around her shoulders and he held her naked body against his synthetic one reassuringly. She hadn't noticed she was naked.. and didn't care now that she did notice.

It was comforting. She didn't want to hunt through memories at that moment, hers or his. Just being like this was fine. No pain, no alien thoughts, no memories she fought to grasp. He let her stay in his arms for a long time; If time even passed in memories.

He was cool, she realized. She noted the soft give of his 'skin' and the hard edges of his artificial joints. His mental self was her only focus and the feel of his body against her grew and grew til it was like static on her skin; Like touching her fingertips to a television screen as a child just to feel her arm hairs stand on end.

"Mm... There.. you found one." He whispered and pulled from her just enough to find her eyes. "Just a little one.. It's a unique sensation." He removed his arm from around her shoulders and let his fingers drag down her bare arm.

The little hairs on her forearm stood on end and she laughed.

"Thank you for sharing that with me, Silvia" DiMa gave her a kind smile and the anxiety melted from her once more.

"They're not all that nice, are they? The ones I found.. they.."

"They scared you, didn't they?"

She nodded and he frowned.

"I am sorry.. I never intended to frighten you, Sylvia.. Can you.. share.. those memories with me?"

"How?" She asked, unsure.

"Remember them.. And I will remember with you." He spoke so gently, his hand came to rest on her cheek, his smile reassuring. "They can't hurt you, Silvia.. They're just memories."

"But... But memories hurt. That's why you hid these away, isn't it? So you wouldn't have to feel the pain anymore. DiMa.. the things you did..."

He frowned. "You're right. Whatever you found, I likely discarded because it was.. painful." his eyes turned away from hers shamefully. "It was weak of me... and put you in so much danger."

She couldn't deny any of his words. There was no way to keep her disappointment from him in this place. No way to keep him from knowing the thoughts that filled their minds. "DiMa you're not weak." It was the only truth she could take from his admission. "You're.. you're human. I see that now.." Her smile was pained... She felt as if she'd just given him the news he had cancer.

But he knew she was being true. And he gave her a sad smile. "I will try to be a better human, then. Show me what you found.. I swear I will do whatever I can to fix my mistakes. And if I can't..." He quieted. She could feel his regret surrounding her. His entire being was empathy, she realized. He'd held his own true emotions so deep inside him that he'd lived this long feeling purely through others. But this was his. The shame, the regret. She could almost taste it, and the need to reassure him boiled up inside her.

"All you have to do is try." She touched his cool cheek as she would a lover and was surprised to feel him press into her hand, the static sparking up between them.

He closed his eyes and relaxed. She hadn't realized he'd been holding back so much until he let some of it go. His body unwound, like he'd breathed out a great breath of stress. The blocks floating in the void around them slowed, some went idle. There was a jumble of thoughts, a mess of feelings. His mind was wandering and she could feel the flow of his emotions across the map of his mind. He skidded along the pathways of memory and brought her to one or two, little pings of emotion brought up by their unique situation.

She learned more about this one man in the course of minutes (or hours, or years, or days. There was no way to tell) then she knew about any other being besides herself. Had he seen that much in her? Did he know... Of course he did. It was intoxicating to know someone so intimately.

"Silvia, I don't believe I have ever...." He couldn't figure out how to finish the words, and when his silvery gaze searched hers out again it was to see if she understood. She did. She smiled.

"It's alright. Neither have I..." Her left hand joined her right on his face, gently brushing her thumbs across the cool plastic of his cheeks, down his neck to his chest. Her arms slid around his waist and she held her bare body against his, her cheek laid over the center of his cool chest. He wrapped his arms around her small body and held her fondly, letting out a very human sigh.

It was her turn to give him time to adjust to having another entity inside his mind, sharing his very existence with another, and taking in turn. She'd had weeks of him swimming through her thoughts, overloading her senses, stealing her secrets. Just that tiny, insignificant part of him that had been downloaded into her brain was enough that she knew he'd always be a part of her. She wondered if she would always be a part of him now; If somewhere in the back of his mind her voice would remind him what day it was; her laugh would replace his own when he was happy. She wondered if, when this was all over, she'd lose that little part of him.. or gain more. Both frightened her.

"I.. I believe you will be with me for the rest of my days, Silvia." He whispered into her hair at long last, and she smiled against his chest.

After a time, after sharing each other's space and thoughts, when they both felt comfortable, DiMa whispered into Silvia's hair. "It's time to start, my love."

The tingling across her skin increased. She could feel herself moving through him and knew he was moving with her. There were whole thoughts and memories within the walls of his vast mind, and she was given the freedom to roam them.

He was full of wisdom.. He was full of questions. It was intense to find that he knew so much... and still felt it wasn't enough. As the memories grew clearer she found the frayed pieces that connected with the lines of code.. the memories.. still trapped inside her mind. She followed those tattered pieces to their edges.. then tried to fill in the banks with the knowledge she'd gained from the Nucleus. The pictures started to come together, the thoughts and images. She was moving blocks again, like the other program. But here he was with her.. holding the blocks with her, his mental power behind her actions. She wasn't just Silvia.. She understood it all through his eye, and he through hers.

When the memories came together.. when he was able to remember all the lives he'd been prepared to take.. when at last he understood the shameful acts he'd forced upon Silvia.. he broke down.

She could feel it all around her. He trembled and the whole world trembled with him. She felt herself falling.. and landed painful amidst the memory. Darkness around her, the fog.. It was so thick, it clung to her skin, filled her airless lungs. It felt so very real. She couldn't see her feet, couldn't see the ground. Something churned in the soup-like air above her and she raised her eyes to the sky. Great spinning fan blades filled her vision, whipping the thick fog around in dizzying circles. She followed the towers back to the ground and found the synth standing at the base of one.

It wasn't her DiMa. This one was not whole. This one had cords and tubes on his back, but only a few. He had his skull plate still intact; she could see the round silhouette of his head, like Nick without his hat. She moved closer.. close enough to touch.

Her DiMa wrapped his arms around her gently from behind and pulled her back, away from the other DiMa, against his broad chest. He sobbed weakly into her hair and whispered. "I couldn't do it, Silvia... but.."

"But you would have, if you had to,"

"I would have."

"We all have those choices to make." She turned in his arms and looked up again. The fog was creeping in around them and she could barely make out his features.

"I... I see.." His voice rang, and she wasn't sure she was holding him anymore.

The mist cleared in a blue flash and everything around her was a blinding white. She could see herself with Shaun.. Not her Shaun. The old man from the Institute. The old man who'd turned his.. her DNA into the bases for synthetic life. She was standing beside him, watching over the Institute in his high up tower, his hands behind his back. He looked like his father..He looked like his grandmother. He was nothing like either.

DiMa was behind her and beside her, watching the two Silvias. Watching one, dressed in white with her hair in a bun as she served Father.. watched the other, a phantom on Father's other side, screaming at the man who was once her son. The phantom wasn't a memory. It was something deeper. It was her rage manifest in her memory, powerful and vocal.

"You make those choices every day, don't you, Silvia?"

"You're not supposed to see this.. No one.. No one is supposed to see this.."

She could feel his shame, his empathy. "But.. it's true. You'd kill him if it would free them. It doesn't matter how much you love him, how much you-"

"Stop." She turned away from the man who had once been her son, turned away from the other Silvia, the traitor who stood beside him, the liar who pretended to support him. She made Silvia sick.

"I do what I have to do, DiMa. Just like you. I just wish..."

"You wish you could throw away memories as easily as I do?" He had wrapped her up in his arms once more, knowing she needed the comfort. Knowing she always needed it and felt it so very rarely. "I do it out of necessity, my heart. I do it to hold onto the really, truly important things.. there just isn't enough room in here for all of it to stay. But you are right. I tossed out my worst choices with little thought for the consequences."

She understood so much more than his words conveyed. It was with a sigh and a heavy heart (something else he'd never felt before) that she agreed. He was being true.

"You tossed out ideas that poisoned your mind. You stopped yourself from taking those.. horrible actions. It was.. necessary. Yes." She stayed against his chest, speaking into his synthetic skin. The white glow around them didn't seem so bright now, the pain of memory started to fade.

She held onto him again, scared to enter the next memory, drained of energy, drained of life. Full of regrets.

"I'd take it all away if I could, my heart. Shaun, Nathan, Detroit. If it were in my power.." He kissed the top of her head and she signed.

"I don't want them gone. I want them back." She didn't know if she could cry in this place, but she felt it inside her, the sting in her eyes and the tightness in her chest.

"Shh.." He wasn't letting her go, and she knew he was feeling it too; the need to cry til she was numb. He understood at last what sadness really felt like and refused to let go of her small form til the shaking of her mind stopped; Til the flood of memories subsided.

"I can't have them back, DiMa.. but you could." She may not have spoken the words, but the thought was there, powerful.. jealousy was there as well.

"He's not my brother now, Silvia."

"He's a good man.. I'd be proud to call him family."

"You do call him family." DiMa smiled as he held her. "He's lucky to have you."

He was lamenting the hugs she often gave Nick, the line of them that stretched back in time. She held DiMa a little tighter. He seemed thankful for the connection she offered. "He's lucky to have you.. He'd be nothing now without you." she whispered and he had a hard time refuting her claim.

The lines of code had lined up more easily this time, without the strain or stress of moving blocks. This is closer to how DiMa thought. His mind.. their mind.. was becoming much easier to control. And now the memory was there for her to give him, and she knew this one would be difficult. She braced herself against the emotions she knew were soon to flood them both and let out a little breath.

"He doesn't understand what you did for him, DiMa.. He might never understand. But you love him.. that might be enough to keep him." She was murmuring against his chest

"I don't want to see this, Silvia." He was deathly quiet.

When she looked up to him he was staring across the wasteland, dust blowing past them, trash and broken buildings and burning cars around them. Silvia turned in his arms just enough to see the struggle. Two second generation synths, nearly identical in every way, save one's eyes shone white while the other's glowed yellow.

She stayed in his arms and he held her so tight, trying to cling to something outside of this devastating memory. "I don't want to remember this."

"I know, DiMa. But this is how you saved him. This is how you set him free. He became a man because you left him. It's painful.. it will always be painful, but he is alive.. he.."

"He's more human than I could ever be."

She looked back up to him. The dust blew by his face as he watched the two synths struggle in this painful memory. When old DiMa's fist connected with old Nick's face, the memory shattered around them and DiMa lowered his shame-filled eyes to Silvia.

"It would be.. human.. to keep this memory.." He whispered and she nodded. He let out a sigh.

"It would be human to forget it, too." she admitted, and his heart lightened. She was, in her way, telling him that this one didn't need to stay with him forever, but he was resolved to keep it.

"You've never forgotten. You remember every one of them.. don't you. Every person you've ever hurt.. you keep them with you."

She knew he'd see this far into her.. she had hoped to keep something hidden, but that was pointless here.. he could see the line of faces through her life, the people, the places. She was an open book to him, and he was bookmarking each page as he flipped through. The shame built up inside her as she felt his mind traveling through her.. he stopped.

She was crying. It had been too powerful; Every thought he rummaged was fresh in her mind, one on top of the other. Even when the waves of faces,of names, of places ceased.. she still felt them crushing her. Her face was wet and rather than falling away, the tears floated into blue-white spots of light.. "There aren't many, my heart.. and so many more that you have helped! Shh." He kissed her forehead, one of the light-tears splashing against his chin.

"Not enough. You can't balance the scales when you've taken a life. Even by saving one.. even by saving a million."

"If anyone could balance those scales it would be you, Silvia. This world has turned you into something stronger than itself. I have faith in you." He was trying to comfort her, and she realized it was awkward for him.

He saw so much of the world objectively; Logically. Feeling it rather than seeing it was not coming easily.

But she loved him for trying. She loved him for seeing the flaws and still holding her like this. And she was sure he felt the same. That realization fell into place among the thoughts and memories flowing around them.

He looked so much softer now, like the edges had been filed down, the light around him was easier on her sense. "In all my time, I never thought I would meet someone so much like myself. Or.. someone so much older then me." He sounded amused.. she wanted to savor that for at least a little longer. "You've held together a lot better then I have."

"I was asleep through most of it." She admitted with a laugh.

"That is a shame.. I do wish I had met you sooner."

Her voice echoed again with laughter, her arms gave a squeeze "I feel the same."

He let out a breath that was not air and stepped back from her, his hands on her bare shoulders and bright white eyes caught up in her big grey ones. "You've given me so much here.. so much to consider, so many new feelings to understand.. and now there is.. is a pain.." He held his white hand to the plastic plate of his chest and looked down.

"It doesn't always hurt. It doesn't hurt much at all when you have someone to share it with." She placed her hand over his on his chest.

His voice was so quiet, and she wasn't sure his lips had moved "Then why don't you share them with John?"

She didn't answer.

"Silvia.. you don't deserve to be alone out there.. Haven't you been alone long enough?"

"Not until it's over, DiMa. I can't.. I shouldn't have.."

"No! He's good to you.. he's good for you! I could see that when you introduced us. The way he looks at you.. the way he looked at me knowing I'd hurt you. He loves you, Silvia.. and you love him."

"I might some day but.. but.. Not yet. He distracts me. He compromises everything..."

"And yet you want him near." DiMa finished for her.

"Stop that" She grumbled and he laughed.

"That is not a secret you could hide, dearheart. You love him. Maybe more than you thought you ever could."

"Stop! You don't get to tell me who I love. You love Faraday! But you've just sat back watching him pine over you for all these years. How is what I do any worse?!"

"I.."

"Don't try to hide that. It's as obvious as my feelings for John."

DiMa lowered his head and submitted. "I am not whole, Silvia. I could never give-"

"Bullshit"

His eyes went wide. "Oh.. you.. you saw.."

"That's not a secret you could hide, dearheart." She smiled triumphantly "You love him. And you've thought of ways to show him. And you should show him. Because he-"

"I know." He sighed. She was starting to think that was one of her traits.. and it might stick with him a while.

"I think, as old as we are, my love.. we both have a lot of growing up to do." Silvia spoke softly as she closed the space between them. She wanted to hold him again.. it felt right, at least in this place, and her arms slid once more around his waist. He followed suit, wrapping her up in his synthetic limbs.

"I'm willing to give it a go if you are."

"I can't.. it's different with John. I could hurt him.. get him killed."

"Is what you're doing to him now any better?" He reached to tilt her chin upwards, catching her gaze.

"DiMa..." She was annoyed, the synth could feel it.. and felt her give in to his logic. "Very well. Both of us will stop hiding all of... this.. from the ones we love?"

"Agreed" He kissed the top of her head. "But first.. I need to fix you. Or John will end me before I get a chance to admit anything to Faraday."

"Ah- Alrighty.. Will this hurt? Like it did.."

"It might a little.. your firewalls are corrupt.. there's a feedback loop. My goodness I had no idea the program would be so incompatible with a human mind." His voice hitched. He couldn't lie but she knew he wanted to tell her everything was fine.

"Feedback loop?" Silvia stayed against him, but felt that he was fiddling with something in her mind. There were little pulls and tugs and flashes of long forgotten things.. like a bad TV Dinner that made her sick, and the circle of mushrooms she found growing in her backyard that made her giddy when she was a child. He was digging pretty deep.

"It overloaded the programming. You were being over-protected by the firewalls. They bashed against the firewalls in the Nucleus until they fell. It must have been.. painful... oh my.." He'd uncovered the bulk of it, the long hours she spent fighting with the programs, fighting his memories, stuck inside til she finished.

It hurt.. It wasn't the same pain, but there was a stab between her eyes and she let out a whimper.

He squeezed her a little tighter. "Oh no, my poor sweet Silvia, I am so very sorry." he whispered, just then realizing the agony she'd been in for weeks. "This should never have happened to you"

"But it did.. and it's part of me now.. and.. I don't want you to take you away.."

He frowned. Her thoughts were unsettling. He couldn't grant that wish.

"The code has to be removed, the memories have to be removed.. but they will remain. Your memories of those memories. I can't take the real ones away, Silvia, as much as I want to."

but I like having you in my head

He squeezed her against him and she could feel the light rather than see it. He had started to shuffle through her memories again and she let him. Every code he yanked from her brain left her feeling a little more incomplete.

She'd witnessed them a million times now, but it wasn't the same as seeing them through his eyes. Painful once more, and so much more so, she braced against his anguish just as he did, removing every dot and decimal from her organic brain. The last traces, the fleeting memories of the fog the first time he saw it, the smell of rotting mutfruit; the barking of dogs in the waste as he sought out a refuge in those early days. The glint of silver shining from the great dome atop his home when the sun set over it; He was taking them from her little by little, and she felt empty when it was done.. and he hated himself for that act of mercy.

He let her mind settle, let the ragged edges he'd cut into her heal a little. He held her projected body as his mind had held her mind all along and let her come to terms with the loss. But it couldn't last forever.

Silvia, my dear, it's time to go.

Just a little longer, DiMa. Just a little..

We can't stay.. we both have promises to keep.

DiMa?

Yes?

Thank you for this. All of it. Thank you for.. for stealing my secrets.

Thank you for stealing mine.

----------------------

The whirring of the machines start to die down, the lights flickered again and Faraday rushed from his seat in the control room, out the door and into the observatory. He grabbed the black kit and went to DiMa's side, ready to help him, knowing he may be malfunctioning at this point. There had been times when DiMa spent hours.. even days in the chair before, but never like this. Never with the problems Faraday had to control in his slumber.

As Faraday rushed past Hancock the ghoul stood and rushed to Silvia, kneeling down in front of her iron chair with his hands on her knees, watching her sleeping face for signs of life.

DiMa was the first to awaken when the buzzing and whining finally faded and the lights stopped flashing. His pale white eyes found Faraday's and both seemed to relax. "How long? I wasn't able to keep track very well. Too many other things to focus on."

Hancock's voice was a growl, his back still to DiMa as he watched Silvia, impatient to see those alien eyes he loved so much. "Six fuckin' hours, jackass. When will she-"

"DiMa?!" Silvia gasped and her eyes went wide, her whole body going rigid. Hancock placed his hands on her shoulders, puzzled as she stuttered the words. "DiMa.. where? No.. No no no no no no.." She crumpled again, her arms gripping her chest and her whole body shaking as she sobbed. Hancock pulled her into his arms and held her close to his chest, letting her tremble.

It was just like the nightmares; She was mumbling and shaking and he heard DiMa's name again and.. and this time he was going to fix the problem his own way. The anger was overwhelming and he had to cling to her to keep himself sane.

"DiMa you said you would fix her. What did you do?" Hancock spoke too calmly. Faraday took note. DiMa frowned.

"N-no.. John... John.." She was trying to catch her breath. She was trying to put her mind back into order.. and the missing pieces were agony. The loss of DiMa left her breathless.

For Hancock, DiMa was forgotten again. The ghoul gathered the dark haired beauty up in his arms and whispered against her ear. "I'm here, sunshine. You're safe.. shh.." He kissed her chin and cheek and nuzzled against her teary face, giving her as much physical contact as she could stand and then some. She soaked it up with no intention of leaving him.. if he would keep her.

As Hancock held Silvia, DiMa left the observatory with Faraday. They spoke softly as they walked into the control room and DiMa closed the door behind them.

Hancock was ready to follow him, watching the tube-covered back of his head angrily.

Silvia pulled his attention away from the synths with a whisper. "John.. how long was.."

"Too long doll, 'bout 6 hours. How.. how do you feel? Are you still..?"

She shook her head before she realized it would hurt so much. Her little groan was followed by his kisses, his arms reassuring her once more.

"So I don't have to kick his metal ass?" He whispered, but she didn't want more words, so when she pressed herself against his chest again he sank into the floor and pulled her with him, letting her curl up in his lap, her legs to one side and her shoulder against his chest. His arms encircled her as he kissed her hair and forehead, letting her her tremble against him. They stayed just like that on the floor near the central mass of processes, Hancock's back against a terminal.

Faraday was typing away at a terminal in the other room, John could see both synths behind the glass. He glared at DiMa, who didn't seem to notice.

After a time the shaking had subsided and her face was wet, but no new tears fell. "John?" Her muffled voice startled him and he gave her a squeeze, tilting his head so he could see some of her face.

"You doin' alright, sunshine?" He whispered.

"I think so." She was quiet a moment, watching him with tired, tear soaked eyes. "We have a lot to talk about"

Her tone sent a chill up his spine and all at once he was truly scared to let her go. "Silvia whatever happened in there?"

She studied his face for a moment. It was strange not being able to feel what he thought, but that sensation would fade, she supposed. Now she could only guess, and.. and it wasn't pleasant to wonder at his thoughts. "He fixed the problem. DiMa isn't going to hurt me anymore." she whispered, trying to reassure him. She relaxed into his arms and laid her cheek on his shoulder, watching the control room as John ran his fingers through her hair.

-

Beyond the glass DiMa was still standing behind Faraday, looking nervous and stiff. Hancock might not have picked out those quirks of his posture, but Silvia did, and she was glad she'd kept that much.

The old synth watched his closest friend go over data and relay information about the six hour dive into his mind for some time before speaking up.

"Faraday?" His voice wasn't as calm as it should have been. Of course Faraday picked up on it immediately and turned around, concerned. He was grabbing his tools when DiMa stepped in close and touched the young synth's shoulder. "Faraday." He spoke again, drawing his friends' full attention.

-

As Silvia (and Hancock) watched, DiMa raised one hand to Faraday's cheek, stunning the other synth into stillness. There were words that neither human could make out through the glass, and then DiMa leaned in and kissed his closest friends lips.

Hancock raised a brow and judged Silvia, who was still watching. He could see the pull of a smile at her lips from his odd angle. Despite the tears and the headache she was smiling. John nudged her gently with his chin. "What happened?"

"He made a promise.. and so did I. We have a lot.. a whole lot to talk about, John."

Beyond the glass Faraday had given in to the kiss and was leaning his body into DiMa's, who had both hands on his cheeks and was kissing him again. Hancock had no interest in watching, and Silvia's attention was fully on John, who kissed her forehead softly. "I'm not leavin' if you're not."

"I'm not."

Chapter Text

The process of plucking codes and memories from Silvia's mind had been taxing. It was hard for her to stay awake as Faraday and Chase gave her a stimpac and convince her to drink something. All the while she stayed on the floor with John, sitting between his knees on the cool concrete. As she drank a can of water, slowly and laboriously, he pulled her hair back and tied it up with a length of cloth. John flapped the back of her shirt to cool her down, wooshing air up her sweaty neck. It felt amazing.

Hancock was uncomfortable, leaning back on a terminal panel with his legs stretched out in front of him. They'd gone numb, his lower back and shoulders ached, but it wasn't a concern at all. It just was. He rubbed at her arm when she started to fall asleep with the can in her hand. The second time it happened he woke her, took her can and gave her hand a tug. "Com'mer"

She'd shifted around and laid her body against his, her chest on his stomach and her legs stretched out between his. She seemed content with her bony mattress and was drifting off again in a matter of minutes. He'd have to find her a bed. DiMa was the one to ask, but he was.. busy.

When Faraday came out, DiMa behind him, the half-gen had the foresight to direct Hancock to a room downstairs. Hancock just gave him a nod and they left, Faraday leading DiMa out the front door of the observatory.

The whole building went quiet.

Nothing moved, nothing hummed, nothing clicked. No bird sounds in the night, the walls too thick to let in the crickets chirping. Like a void in the mist, the only sound that of breathing, and only loud enough for those breathing to hear. Hers even and a little louder. His slow and as quiet as he could be. She'd have to get up and move soon. They both needed some real sleep.

His hands moved from around her shoulders to brush her hair from her eyes. He found one of the shaved spots where a diode had been attached.. she must have felt it too because her head tilted away.

"Wake up, sunshine. We're gonna move." He whispered near her ear in a soft, rumbling voice.

It took a little while, but they made it down a flight of stairs and John found a couple of mattresses on the floor scooted up together in one of the little nooks of the building.

Once Silvia was comfortable and they'd set up her pip-boy against the wall, playing a holotape of Buddy Holly, John spooned up behind her and wrapped his warm arm around her waist.

'Well.. Alright' was playing and Silvia was drifting in and out of sleep, pulled back by his touch and his humming. He realized what he was doing as the song ended and didn't hum to the next one. Hancock kissed her shoulder and she snuggled back against him, fading away once more. He wasn't far behind.

As was there way, Hancock woke first, barely and briefly. He placed little butterfly kisses on her shoulder (the easiest spot to reach) as a scarred hand touched her hip and rubbed her back. She cooed and breathed deeply in satisfaction somewhere between dreams. He drifted in and out of sleep as morning became noon, touching her each time he woke, reassuring her that he was still there as much as he was reassuring himself.

The ghoul was sure his lover had finally woken when he felt her touching his hand as it lay on her waist, just running her fingertips over his knuckles and nails. Then she gripped his hand and pulled it up to her mouth, kissing his palm. He closed his fist around the kiss and held her against his chest. They'd both collected a lot of kisses this way.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, his face half buried in her hair.

Silvia didn't respond, and with her back to his chest, John couldn't see her face. There was no way, or need, to measure time, the quiet stretched on, interrupted by the occasional voice or clang from the waking world.

"Why? I can't think of anything...." she spoke just as softly.

"For getting so mad after telling you I could handle whatever was after you." That was surprisingly easy to say.. of course he'd had hours to think about it between then and now.

She shifted around in his arms all at once to face him. So this was it, time for 'the talk'. His spirits sank, he just wanted her to curl back up against him and sleep a little longer. At least she didn't scoot away, at least she was still right there, in his arms. That was something.

"No.. That's.. It's.." Her dark brows knitted together in frustration.

"No, shush, let me apologize cause I know I screwed up. All that talk about sticking with you no matter who was on your tail, I shoulda handled it better. I shoulda stuck to my word, stood by your side, instead I threatened to walk away.. and that just ain't right."

"I walked away a few times, John..."

"Yeah, and now I know you had a damned good reason. A damned scary reason... But I ain't gonna let anyone, the institute included, fuck with what we got," His voice was soft, sever. He wasn't in speech mode, not this time. His heart on his sleeve.

"Don't.. Not til I'm done.. you might still want to leave. And I wouldn't blame you."

"Never gonna happen." He gripped a little tighter.

"Just.. at least wait til I explain it all?" She hissed out the words, exasperated.

He grinned at her frustration and kissed her nose. "Of course, sunshine."

She let out a little sigh. "I'm not sure where to start."

"Answer a question first? Are.. are you a courser?"

"No."

"Just a synth, then." He said quickly.

"No.. All human." A little shake of her head.

"Well damn.. there goes my only guess."

She shouldn't be smiling, but he always brought them out of her.

He pressed his forehead to hers, smiling right back. "So tell me?" He said softly.

Might as well get it over with. "My son runs the institute. He created the synths."

"Your son runs the Institute..." He rolled the words around in his head as she waited and watched his face turn from loving to pure confusion. "You mean your husband." He corrected at last.

"No.. my son-" She was interrupted.

"Wait just a minute," He slid his arms out from around her and sat up on the mattress, his back against the wall beside them. "Your son?" A hand ran over his bald, scarred head.

She nodded, watching his emotions churn over his features.

"Your son made the Synths? He runs the institute.. and you work for the Railroad?"

"Trust me.. I'm not happy with his life choices. But I didn't have much input on his upbringing. He was raised by the Institute, without me." She sat up as well, stretching sore, stiff legs out in the bed as she pulled the blanket around her body. "Now they call him Father.. father of the synths."

His brows pulled low over his dark eyes. His mouth opened.. closed again. Opened, a sound leaving his lungs, but he stopped himself, confounded. "Just.. explain how..."

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Before the war I was married."

"Nathan." He nodded a little, more to himself.

"What?"

"You.. you talked a little when you got back to Diamond City, when the fever was bad. About Nathan and a baby... Wait wouldn't he be just a kid?"

"That's what I'm trying to tell you. Before the war... I was married. Before the Great War. Before the bombs fell." His face twisted again in confusion, but she didn't let him talk this time. "When it happened we.. Me, Nathan and Shawn.. My.. my son.. we went into a vault."

"Oh..." Understanding sparked in his dark eyes.

Again, she didn't let him talk. "Nathan was a soldier, so we were singed up for the local vault.. 111. We thought it was.. well a vault. A safe place to wait out the fall-out. But they tricked us.. everyone who was signed up. We were put in cryonic-stasis pods. Frozen."

This time he stopped her. "Before the war? THE war. THE THE war."

"Yes.. Before THE war. The bombs were falling when we went into the vault.. Everyone who didn't go down with us just..." Her voice trailed off but he caught the implication.

"Yeah... ashes. Damn.... Damn.." He reached out to touch her face, the confusion turned to remorse. "How long?"

"How long.. I don't know when they took Shawn. Maybe 70 years ago? 80? 90? Not sure, really. He's an old man now.." She sighed. "When they came to take him, they killed my husband.. Nathan. Woke me up just enough to watch them, through the glass... watch them kill him. Watch them take Shawn.. and then they put me back into stasis. I've been out of the freeze for about two years..." She trailed off, face turned down as if studying the old tattered blanket that covered her.

"Two years? You were asleep the whole time? That's... that's fucked up." He didn't warn her, just wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him sideways. "And you woke up to this mess. Fuck, baby, I-"

"Don't say it, I don't want pity, John." She stayed stiff in his arms, shaking a little. It was hard to say it all out loud.. like somehow it made it more real.

"Pity you? No.. You gotta be the strongest creature in the wasteland. Can't even imagine.."

"There's nothing to imagine. I went to sleep.. woke up a couple hundred years later. Felt like no time at all." she said dismissively as she wriggled from his arms.

"You know that's not what I mean," He let her move, leaning back against the wall again, looking defeated. "So he's leading the Institute now. And he created the synths?" Hancock raised a hand, brushed loose hair behind her ear.. Seemed nothing was going to stop him from touching her, so she let it happen.

"From his own DNA. That's why they wanted him; Unaltered genetic material. Not sure when they decided to make him their leader, but he is.. and it's his will that keeps them slaves.... Fuck. He turned into a monster. I should have been there," She sank a little, slouched over and gripping the blanket tight around her. She wasn't looking at him, refused to turn her head to do so. "But I wasn't. John , he's a monster. THE monster... My monster. And I have to put him down." She spoke the words softly.

"It's not your fault, Silvia. You said it yourself, you didn't raise him. He's not your-"

"Yes, he is. And all those synths he's created, they're mine too, in a weird way..." She laughed sarcastically. "At least I got grandkids. Just.. not..." Silvia took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "This isn't how things were supposed to happen."

He wasn't sure what to say. He didn't want to tell her how happy he was about the way things were.. How lucky he felt that he'd found her when time never wanted it to happen this way. He wouldn't say it out loud; she'd lost a husband, a son, far more valuable things than him. But John felt lucky she'd landed here, now, with him.

"At some point he decided.. Fuck, what is wrong with him.. he decided he wanted to 'see what I would do' so he let me out of the freeze. Led me around on a wild goose chase, made me think my son was alive.. He's got this 10 year old boy. A synth.. made me think I might get my son back."

"Fuck.." The ghoul decided she looked far too lonely, her arms wrapping the blanket around her slumped body, her head down. He wrapped his arms around her once more, but this time she leaned into his embrace, her body molding, as it did so well, against his torso, her head tucked under his chin. He buried his face in her hair, breathed in her scent. "I don't blame ya for not wanting to tell me this shit. I get it. But it doesn't change a damned thing. You're mine... I'm not giving you up without a fight."

She didn't respond. He wasn't sure why, but let the silence stretch out nonetheless. In her mind a storm of self loathing and doubt was replaced with catharsis. She wouldn't wish any of this on another person, and she'd tried hard to deal with this problem herself because.. well, it WAS her problem. She caused this... but it didn't weigh so heavy on her soul in that moment.

Hancock held her to him, his hands rubbing comfortingly over her arms, down the rough skin of her back, his thin lips kissed her hair even as it tickled his nose ridge. "Is there anything else I should know?"

Again, quiet. She took a deep, shaking breath.

"Silvia?" His head tilted, he could see her eyes through her raven hair. Those big, beautiful grey eyes.. a little red right now, always moist. He kissed her face through the curtain of hair and was rewarded with a little smile.

"Yeah..." She breathed the word. "I think that's it.. I mean.. I...-"

He cut her off this time and kissed her face again. "You know this explains a lot. The cooking, the books, the way you stay so clean. And no one in the Commonwealth blushes.. Not like you."

She was probably doing just that. "well.. it was different then. Flirting and kissing and.. all that stuff wasn't so, uh.. um..."

"Vulgar?" He kissed her forehead this time and was rewarded with her soft, bell-like chuckle.

"Public. Messy? It was... courting was done at a distance. I only knew Nathan a few months before he was commissioned. He came back for leave, we got married. He came back again we got pregnant. Then he was injured... I learned a lot about him after he came back that last time."

"So why did you marry him if you barely knew him? You could have had your pick. From what I understand, the men were a lot better looking back then. I know the women were." Another kiss against her hair.

She laughed and nudged his sternum with her shoulder. "That's just how things were done. I honestly couldn't tell you why. A lot of things are different now. And the men are still pretty good looking." She was already so close, pressed up against his warm body, she only had to crane her head to kiss his lips.

He chuckled. "Your brain still a little frost bit, sunshine?"

"Not at all. I love the way you look."

"Sil-"

"I love the way you look, John." She shifted in his arms, chin lifted so she could see him properly "The way your skin feels.. your eyes are... breathtaking."

He touched her face, brushing the dark hair back from her eyes before running his fingers down her cheek. There... now he could see her face, her lips as they moved.

His touch made her heart pound and she drew in a deep breath. "The way you move, the way you talk.. the way your mind works.. The way you touch me.." Smoky grey orbs searched his face, fell upon the star-field of his eyes. "I love you," She whispered, her lips so close to his he could feel her warm breath.

He focused on her face, focused on her lips. "What?"

"I love you." She kissed him again, but he didn't respond, so she babbled on. "John, you're everything right in this world.. everything good and bright and beautiful. You're what gives me hope.." Another kiss on slack lips. "I love you, John."

Maybe she'd broken him, maybe it was too much to take in.. or maybe he was just savoring the words. Seconds ticked by as she watched his lips twitch, watched his doubt slowly grow into confidence.. as she knew it would. She was expecting his savage kiss, she expected his grip to tighten; It was thrilling all the same, she let herself enjoy this moment, his warm body holding her.. the real her, without any doubts or regrets.

At last his lips parted from hers, just enough to whisper into her mouth. "say it again?"

"I love you, John-"

He barely let her finish before crushing his lips to hers once more, murmuring between messy, wet kisses, "I love you.. so much, Silvie."

There was something like a laugh, just a little sound deep within the woman. Her arms slid around his slim body and she pulled herself close with his help, limbs intertwined as their lips danced playfully against each other. She was laughing, and maybe crying, but the sounds were adorable.

He loosened his grip when she finally retreated to breath and he could see the red of her cheeks and nose, down her neck... And that's where he kissed next, then her collarbone. This time it was a breathy moan, a soft, begging sound that drove him on. Hot kisses were laid across her chest and up the other side of her neck. She was growing louder, and he was growing more bold.

When his hands moved, when her shirt was raised from the hem and his rough palms touched her sides, she whimpered, a pathetic sound. "John we can't.. there's a kid around..." and no privacy, no doors.. he knew that.

"Fuck.. Really?" His mouth was against her neck again. His hands moved upwards, to her breasts. He gripped each firmly as he sucked at the soft flesh where her shoulder and neck met, the little bow turning as red as her beautiful cheeks. "Guess we have to be really quiet." he whispered.

"A-ah!" Maybe too loud, she gasped and put her hands over his. "John..." she pleaded.

She could feel the rumble of some predatory sound, muffled and deep. He did not relent. His hands tightened, squeezed and she gasped again, far too loud.

"shh..." He whispered against her neck.

She tried, but didn't succeed, of course.