Friends?

fifteen

My adrenalin was giving me strength and my heart was racing so fast I thought it would come right out of my chest. The Death Claw slashed at me as I ran backwards. I had pulled out my assault rifle after I hit it with my bladed tire iron. All I could do was empty clips into the bastard. As I was reloading my gun, I tripped over an old tire. I cursed myself for not being as careful. I was running backwards for God's sake. I landed hard on my ass, dropping the bullets I had in line. The monster reared its long arm back, getting ready to strike. I barely rolled out of the way in time. I shoved myself back up and ran as fast as I could, making a large loop back to the wooden shack. Hancock was unconscious next to a dead, fallen down tree.

I ran over to him, landing hard on my knees. I pulled out a stimpack and sunk it into his shoulder. I hoped that he wasn't dead. "Hancock?" I screamed. I was frantic. I threw the empty syringe to the side and clasped his face with both of my hands. "Hancock!"

The Death Claw pulled me back and threw me against the small shack. I yelled in pain and pleaded that nothing was broken. As the Death Claw ran back at me, I pulled a 10mm pistol out, emptying that clip into it's face. This slowed it down enough for me to get my bladed tire iron again. As it leapt at me, I swung my brutal weapon and sank it right into the thing's neck. Blood squirted out and it fell to the side. I was going to be sick. I left my tire iron and shoved myself back up. My back ached terribly, but I limp-ran my way back to Hancock's crumpled form.

I leaned over him again, on my knees, and listened for breathing. It was soft, but it was there. I wanted to just cry in relief. He was alive. I pulled his head into my lap and cradled him. I looked down at his bloody torso. I didn't see any fresh blood gushing out of the slashes. That was also good progress. The stimpack closed his wounds. I injected him with another, just to be safe.

I sat there with his head in my knees until I couldn't even feel my legs. It was well into the night. I didn't move. I only kept watch of his breathing and checked his pulse every so often. His tricorn hat was next to us. His head looked so foreign without his hat. I had ran my fingers across his bald scalp a few times now. His skin was rough, like worn leather. I checked his pulse again. It was the same as before. I glanced around, praying nothing would seek us out.

Hancock's muscles jumped and his hand moved up from his hip to his chest. His coal eyes cracked open and they slowly focused on me. He didn't say anything for a long time, but when he did, he sounded like he just woke up from an unsatisfying nap. "One hell of a jet trip."

"Hancock, you got sliced by a Deathclaw!" I exclaimed, pulling him into an awkward embrace. He patted my shoulder weakly.

"From the looks of it, so did you," he commented when I pulled away. He pulled himself to a sitting position and I glanced at my arms and legs. A few gashes, but nothing major. I shook my head and turned my attention back to the ghoul. I helped him up and headed over to the small wooden shack. I set up a bedroll for him and he stiffly sat down on it as I made a fire. My own wounds did ache, and made me move slightly slower than I would have liked, but I didn't complain.

"I was really hoping it was a bad trip," he grumbled to himself. I turned back to him, not bothering with my bedroll yet. I just sat next to him, leaning against the wall. I had set our place up in the corner, so he was up against the other wall. His frock coat was thrown to the side, bloodied and almost ruined. He had removed his other, ruined, layers of shirts and only had on his black pants, and American flag belt. His chest was still covered in blood, but he pulled out a bottle of dirty water.

"Do you want me to help you?" I asked.

He only shrugged. I pulled out a piece of cloth and scooted in front of the ghoul. I took the water from his hand and wetted my rag. As I wiped off his chest, I could see the long, angry looking slash marks. They were closed though. I sighed in relief. I didn't think I had anymore stimpacks. I cursed myself for not buying more supplies.

"Hey, can we talk? I got something else you still need to hear." He said to me in a very quiet voice.

I continued to wipe the blood from his chest, but I glanced up at him. "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah, this is just tricky. Traveling with you like this, almost losing you and my own life, you killing that Death Claw, that made me realize some things."

I pulled my hand away from his chest and looked into his dark eyes. My heart sank as my mind raced. "Maybe we could talk about this once you've rested. You were hurt really badly."

He shook his head and pulled the rag from my hand. He tightly clasped my now empty hand with his own. "No, hear me out sister."

I didn't say anything more. I bit my lip and let him continue.

"I've realized that I've been skipping out on all the good things in my life. I skipped out on my family, skipped out of a life in Diamond City. Hell, I only took up with you to get out of Goodneighbor. Running from myself is what even made me into a damned ghoul. But this," he tightened his fingers around mine. "For the first time in my life, running is the farthest thing from my mind. For the first time in my life, things have felt right. I thought I was going to leave Goodneighbor just to sharpen the old killer instincts, but whether it was fate, or destiny, or just goddamn coincidence, I ended up with you. I mean, I turned one of the nastiest settlements in the Commonwealth into a refuge for the lost. I thought I'd done something I could hang my hat on." He turned his eyes away from mine and looked at our entwined hands. "But being out here with you made me realize how small time I was thinking. Maybe all my running, from my life, myself, wasn't such a bad thing after all."

I laced my slender fingers with his and cleared my throat. "How did you run from yourself, Hancock?" I whispered.

He met my eyes again and gave me a cocky smile. "I didn't always look this good. The drug I did, the drug that turned me into a ghoul, I knew what it was going to do." His cocky grin faded, but he continued talking. "I couldn't stand to looking at the bastard I saw in the mirror anymore. That coward who let all those ghouls in Diamond City die. The coward who was too scared to save those innocent drifters from Vic and his boys. If I took it, I never had to look at him again. I could put it all behind me. Be free. But it was just me running from something else in my life."

"You may have been running, but you always ran for a reason," I replied. Hancock was just a good guy, pulled through bad things. He only wanted to escape as bad as I did. Just as bad as any of us.

"I've been trying to convince myself of that for years. But coming from someone like you, you have no idea what that means to me." He flashed me another smile, this one having sad undertones. "Throwing in with you has been the best choice I've ever made, Samantha. It's like I've found a part of myself that I never knew was missing. If I hadn't taken up with you, I'd probably be in a gutter somewhere, being gnawed on by radrotches. You are one hell of a friend."

"Would that be so bad compared to Deathclaws gnawing on you," I joked. He blew air out in a half-laugh and only shrugged.

This conversation went in a very different direction than I thought. Hancock had revealed another layer of himself to me. I thought it was going to be the opposite. I thought he wanted to leave. But I felt closer to him. I pulled my eyes away from him and kept my fingers laced with his. "You're a great friend too, Hancock."

He smiled again and released my hand. He laid down in his bed roll and was fast asleep. I listened to Hancock's snoring as I pulled my chain out from behind my shirt. I looked at Nate's gold band, catching the light of the fire. Hancock and I were just friends, right?