Chapter Text
Hancock blew into his hands in a desperate attempt to warm them. It was the dead of winter and Nora had woken him up before dawn to go trekking up the mountain behind Sanctuary. He wasn’t suited for this kind of weather, he had no extra layers on, and what he did have on was so threadbare that he may as well have walked out into the snow naked as the day he was born. His boots were soaked through, he kept fighting the winter wind to keep his hat on his head, and his hole-y pockets did nothing to protect his hands when they weren’t busy trying to protect his hat.
Nora had, of course, offered him more layers to wear before they headed out, but Hancock had stubbornly refused, stating it would ruin his look. Now he was wishing he had at least accepted a scarf or a coat. He looked up the mountain where five paces ahead and gaining, trudging through the snow with four bound wooden planks strapped to her back was the General of the Minutemen, Sole Survivor of Vault 111, and Hancock’s trusted friend and companion.
Well, “trusted” was a big word for a woman who woke Hancock out of his steamy dream and dragged him from his warm makeshift bed on her couch. Right now, Hancock thought the words “bat-shit crazy” made more sense. But, he trudged up the mountain after her, following the path she forged so he wouldn’t have to exert so much energy.
Nora was dressed smarter for the occasion, she had on a heavy duty coat over her normal uniform, and had reinforced her boots for the icy, wet climb they were making. They walked past the decayed gate leading to the Vault, Nora didn’t even spare it a glance, but Hancock couldn’t keep his curious eyes away from the Vault entrance. He often wondered what it was like in the Vault. Sure, he’d been to Vault 81 with Nora a few times, but from what she had told him and what he had learned on his own, her Vault was very different.
“Hey, not one to complain, sister,” Hancock called ahead, “but what are we doing in the snow at the ass-crack of dawn?”
Nora stopped and turned back to face him, she had pulled a scarf over the lower half of her face, tucking it up around her ears and under her glasses on her nose to protect her from the elements. She started to speak but realized how muffled she sounded and reached up with a gloved hand to pull her scarf down, “Awww is someone ti-ward?” She used her puppy-talk voice and gave him a fake pout.
Hancock held his hands up in defense, “Hey, I’m just wondering, is all. You go on about how much you need sleep and then you go waking me up at,” by now he had caught up to her, his chest felt tight from fighting gravity and the snow and he took huge gulps of cold hair to try and fill his burning lungs. He grabbed her left wrist, flashing the time at her, “5 a.m.”
“Awww,” Nora raised one hand to cup his face. Hancock nearly shivered from the warmth her hand gave off, “wah wah wah, baby.” She pinched his cheek and gave his head a good shake before turning back around.
“Whoa,” Hancock started to fight knee deep snow to walk alongside Nora, “I never said,” his foot snagged on a root and he nearly fell face first into the snow. His arms flailed around, looking for something to grab onto, thankfully, Nora was there. Her hands had already caught him by the time Hancock realized what was happening.
“You alright?” Her hazel eyes were hidden behind her foggy glasses, but she slid them down her nose to peer over the frame at him. Hancock nodded as he righted himself.
“I wasn’t complaining about the walk. Just about the secrecy of WHY we’re taking this walk.” Hancock explained. His foot was aching, and the cold was seeping into his bones making him stiff, sore, and irritated.
“I promise you’ll see.” Nora vaguely answered. They finally made it to the top on the mountain and turned back to look at the Commonwealth. With a groan Nora dropped the bound wooden planks off her back, letting them fall into the snow with a “fft!” frozen crunch sound. She was out of breath and flopped down onto the boards, her knees bent upward, her elbows resting on her knees, and her fingers laced together in front of her.
“Alright, bud, pop a squat.” Nora nodded to the snow covered ground.
“No thanks.” Hancock shifted from foot to foot. Now that he wasn’t moving he could really feel the cold seep in through his clothes. “Okay, now what?”
“Now, we wait.” Nora said, “so sit.” Hancock groaned and refused to sit.
This was ridiculous! This was the kind of morning where you stayed in bed with a hot drink (if you could afford to have a bed or a hot drink that was actually intended to be hot) or a hot body (which if Nora hadn’t interrupted his dream he could have imagined he had). Why, just the previous night everyone in Sanctuary gathered in the community house Nora, Preston, and Sturges had built to have drinks, tell stories, and just have quality time together. Moments like those were rare in the Wasteland, but Nora made it seem so natural. She made people feel like they didn’t need to survive from day to day, they could just exist and live, and not worry about how close death was getting. Now she was dragging him up a mountain in knee deep snow just to...what? Sit? On a couple planks of wood? He wanted to storm back down to her house and go back to sleep when Nora suddenly gasped and grasped his wrist.
“Look.” She breathed out. Hancock turned to see what she was seeing and, if he wasn’t already struggling to breath, the air would have been knocked out of him.
A gorgeous, pink and orange sunrise glittered across the snow covered Commonwealth. The sky bloomed in colors Hancock didn’t know it could bloom into. Clouds were purple streaks across a warm, new, hopeful sky.
Hancock swore he heard a few songbirds tweeting.
The scene was picturesque.
Beautiful.
“Alright. Now we go down.” Nora scooted herself to the front of the four wooden planks.
“What?” Hancock looked at her incredulously.
“Come on,” she gave the boards a few pats, “hop on.”
“Absolutely not.” Hancock crossed his arms. This was where he was putting his foot down, “that thing is a death trap, and the way your angled is asking for a broken neck.”
“Come on, it will be fun, trust me!” Nora insisted. She looked up at him with her innocent hazel eyes.
Hancock turned away tensely, knowing he would eventually break if he tried to start up a staring contest with her. He refused. “No. Now, come on.” He bent down to grab her arm and pull her back up, but Nora turned and grabbed him with her free arm, pulling him onto the wooden planks. His knees hit the wood hard and Hancock grunted in pain as Nora faced forward, her arms still holding his, wrapping them around her body as she began to move them forward. “Nora! Nora, no! Nora!” He braved himself against her back as the wooden planks hit an ice patch and began to rapidly race down the mountain.
Nora whooped and hollered gleefully and Hancock tightened his grip around her waist, burying his face in her shoulders to hide from the blast of freezing air that rushed by them. Thankfully the nightmarish ride ended in just a few seconds. The wooden planks turned sideways and Nora and Hancock went tumbling off into the snow. Hancock was laying face down, one arm still wrapped around Nora. When he lifted his head he saw Nora was on her back with her arms spread wide (his arm was across her stomach) and she was giggling. Her eyes were closed, but Hancock could see the unbridled glee on her half concealed face.
Hancock let out a breath he didn’t know he had been holding and pushed himself up. He hovered over Nora who eventually opened her eyes and stopped giggling. Hancock noticed how her curls glistened as snowflakes gathered on her red locks. She took a shuddering breath and Hancock became aware of how close they were.
“Let’s agree to never do that again.” He finally broke the silence.