bloodlrust - Tumblr blog

bloodlrust · 1 month

Text

Me make part 2

Hancock laid back, lounged into his ornate chair and fading off from a Jet high.

It never lasted as long as he wanted it to, but he had things to do today.

Well, usually that doesn’t stop him, but just this once he’s decided to clear his mind, be “present” or whatever people have been saying.

It’s Hancock’s third night in the room made for him in that silly little commune Sole has been working on.

Yesterday he had “welcomed” an old friend to their own room.

Valentine…

Funny that Valentine got to his room later considering he had helped Sole clean out the place initially.

Sole directly told Hancock he has “Less standards” than Valentine and was a better candidate to try the place out before it was polished.

Hancock took no offense to that, they were right after all. Valentine isn’t the kind to be rude about a free room, but he’s used to a certain lifestyle and dingey cabins just might not be up to snuff.

Not Hancock though, he was born from mud and thrives in the dirt and grime.

Well, Valentine has had his fair share of living in filth, Diamond City isn’t that great.

Hancock was beyond grateful for the room Sole made for him, although he nearly rejected it, giving Sole a lecture on the ethics of owning multiple properties.

Apparently that argument was silly and didn’t apply to the given situation.

Sole set it up with a bed, a fancy chair with an ashtray closeby, and a very large stash of chems they had been collecting over months.

Hell, it even had a small mirror ball over the bed, which made Hancock laugh his ass off when he first saw it.

Hancock brought in some artwork from the Old State House to remind him of home, though it is a tad spacious and takes up a large portion of the south wall.

He considers himself a man of few regrets, nothing can be done about the past so why bother sweating the small stuff?

He isn’t the type to hold a grudge, most quarrels can be handled with an apology or working it off in some way or another. And if not?

He’s been known to use sufficient force.

There is one thing though, one man who hasn’t made an apology.

Perhaps it’s been too long to still be upset about it, not that he’s still thinking about it.

It is interesting, however, that that man seems to hold no guilt about a mistake to such a measure, especially due to how high he holds his moral standards.

He always thought he was better than Hancock, didn’t he?

He never misses the opportunity to insult him or his town.

Still, he’s one of his oldest friends, and they seem to be even on saving each other's life.

“Eugh…”

Hancock jumps out of his chair, recognizing the voice.

He remembered Valentine telling him they’ll talk tomorrow, who knew tomorrow was today?

How did he forget? He was giddy all the way home from Valentine’s cabin.

He didn’t think Nick would bother coming to his shack though. How did he even find it?

Hancock sneaks up to the window and watches Valentine in his yard.

“‘Drugs.’ Very subtle.”

Hancock recalls the pharmaceutical sign Sole installed on the side of his house, Valentine didn’t seem impressed.

“Yeah, and look here, radiation warning” Hancock chuckles. “That’s me!”

“Ah. I didn’t get a close look over here when I came in, should’ve known you were here if I saw this… Quirky little shack.”

Hancock thought Valentine’s wording was condescending as usual, but he bites his tongue.

“Yeah, it's pretty great isn’t it? You gotta take a look at the inside! Besides, I’m tired of yelling at you through this window!”

Valentine chuckles and makes his way up the stairs to the porch, stopping to lean in the open doorway.

“Is that a disco ball?”

“Oh, you bet! Isn’t it sweet?”

Nick smirks, right above the bed is an interesting place for one.

“Is it hard to sleep with that thing going?”

Hancock smiles and jumps on his bed.

“Actually I find it soothes me, especially if I’m high on somethin’. Feels great.”

Nick rolls his eyes and makes his way in, he physically repulses at the staches of chems around.

“I, uh, I can clean up a bit if it would make you more comfortable.”

Nick turns to Hancock, hand trembling slightly.

“No, no, it’s fine, Hancock.”

Hancock can feel Valentine’s judgment, strong enough to make the air feel thick.

He holds no shame for his habits, surely it’s Valentine’s problem for being a stuck up prude.

Or worse, maybe Nick’s opinion on him actually matters.

Not that much, though.

“I can’t come into your house and tell you what to do with the furniture, Hancock. It’s not right of me to judge your habits in a place meant to be your own.”

His voice may sound sincere, surely it’s just him trying to act like the bigger person.

“I really appreciate that, Nick.”

Hancock meant it but was suspicious.

Hancock isn’t as analytical as the synth was with his manner of thinking, maybe he was too emotion oriented, maybe he assumes the worst of people if he can’t rationalize their intentions.

But he never cares what other people think of him, why would Valentine be the exception?

He knew why but didn’t care for it. He’s never cared for sappy bullshit, why would he start now?

“You’re doing the same thing I was. Look, I know it’s been awhile since we've had an honest social call, but-.”

“-What? Spacing out? Yeah.. I’m still in Jet hangover. It's fine, I'm doing fine.”

Hancock gave a toothy grin. He didn't know why he started thinking about the past, it wasn't on his mind yesterday.

Valentine turned his initial grimace into a forced smile.

“You uh, here with me now, right?”

Hancock’s face flinched. He got off the bed and moved to his soft red chair.

“Yeah, I’m fine now, I was planning to sober up by the time we talked then you just waltzed on over here without askin’.”

Hancock tasted the irony the second it left his tongue.

Valentine starts to speak then stops himself, And the irony really was so laughable that's all he could do. Laugh.

“Ah, yeah I guess that’s fair.”

Hancock starts snickering along with Nick, who is hysterically gripping his knees.

“I bothered to use the door, first of all.”

Nick coughs a few times to calm down, he sits down in the dingy swivel chair by the metal desk and gently pushes a pile of chems away to make room to rest his arms.

“At least you didn’t knife open my window.”

The two men cover their mouths to prevent another laughing episode.

“Did I ever say sorry for that?”

“Well, are you?”

“No.” “No.”

They made eye contact and snickered at each other.

Perhaps Nick has his judgements but Hancock was the one who held resentment, it was stewing inside him.

As most feelings do.

“You know me pretty well, huh?”

He shouldn’t bring it up.

It would only make things awkward.

It probably hasn’t been eating at Valentine for years.

“Of course, Hancock. I’m pretty observant when it comes to you.”

Hancock tilts his head.

“People in general, I mean.”

Valentine groaned, he knew Hancock would have a field day with that, the shit eating grin on Hancock’s face only proved it.

“You flatter me, baby!”

He bites the inside of his dry lip.

“Can you tell I’m tense?”

“Why is that?”

No. Don’t ruin this.

It’s been too long, Valentine thinks he’s forgiven him.

To bring it up now would just be petty.

“It’s just been so long since we’ve talked outside of you needing something from me.”

Hancock smirks to lighten the mood.

“I guess you’re right. I don’t exactly stop by Goodneighbor just for fun.’

“You don’t do anything ‘just for fun’.”

“Sure I do!”

“Oh yeah? Like what?”

Nick crosses his legs and swivels his seat to face Hancock, who’s sitting sideways in his fancy velvet lined chair.

“Well, I enjoy a good book-”

“-Ha!” Hancock immediately interrupts him.

“Don’t laugh at that. I know it's not something crazy like you’d do but it’s a good pastime.”

“I read too, Nick. But that’s not what I mean.”

Valentine groans and leans back and crosses one leg over the other.

“I don’t know what to tell you. Alcohol doesn’t do anything to this synthetic body and I’m not exactly the party type. I take pride in my work, that’s what makes me happy.”

Hancock gives a look of suspicion.

“Right, that’s why you agreed to take a break from work, because you're happy.”

“Well.”

“You probably took more convincing to come up here than I did! So tell me, what’s on your mind?”

Maybe hearing Valentine’s struggles will take his mind off the past.

Maybe that's selfish, but it’s not like Hancock doesn’t actually care.

He cares too much, that’s the problem.

Valentine sighs.

“The reason I- Well, I think at least, the reason I’ve been having more of those flashbacks is because Sole helped me track down Eddie Winter.”

Hancock’s face scrunches, where has he heard that name before?

“I don’t believe I’ve ever told you the full story, It’s all behind me now so I’ll just give you the rundown.”

Valentine takes a deep “breath” and stretches his shoulders.

“Valentine, the original Valentine from the 2070’s. He was on this case for the notorious mobster. Operation Winter’s End. Bastard got Nick’s fiancée killed, poor Jennifer Lands.”

“Jenny.”

Hancock noticed how he didn’t use first person to talk about the old Nick. He wasn’t consistent with it but it used to be second nature to him.

“Exactly. Anyway they caught the bastard, but he decided to rat out his friends in exchange for immunity. Just a few weeks before the bombs fell they let him go, why they’d do such a thing escapes me. After that Nick wasn’t in a great spot, they ordered Valentine to do something about his at the time undiagnosed PTSD. He was sent to C.I.T. where they scanned his brain and well.”

Valentine looks down at his hands.

“I guess they archived whatever they found.”

“And Winter?”

Valentine looks up into Hancock’s empty black eyes.

“Well there’s the kicker, Winter was obsessed with immortality. He bought in to this radiation experiment by a doctor who somehow knew when the bombs would drop. He was probably one of the first ghouls in existence.”

Hancock looks at his own hands in comparison. So different yet none of them are human.

“It took awhile to track him down, but he left a series of vague clues and… Well, that’s a much longer story. When we got there he had some…thoughts on what Nick is, I am today.”

Nick takes a deep breath and leans back in the chair, which makes a loud squeak.

“He got what was coming to him, though. I made peace with who I am. Nick, Valentine, me. It doesn't matter anymore.”

Hancock gives Nick a smug, knowing look.

“I told ya, Nicky, we’re a lot alike.”

Hancock stands up to stride over to Nick.

“You were the first person to see me as the man I am today, you know that?”

“John…”

Hancock smiles and puts his hand on Valentine’s shoulder.

“The one and only, baby. Who the fuck was John Hancock? It’s just me left standing now.”

Hancock moved his hand to his belt and tucked his thumbs in.

Valentine smiled, that was an interesting approach to life.

“I wonder if the few weeks of unrecorded brain data would've made a difference. What would the original Nick think of me?”

“What? Do you think I go around wondering what the real John Hancock would think of me?”

Hancock looks at the massive painting to his right.

“Ok, well, sometimes. But let’s be honest, the guy was probably racist.”

Valentine laughs and covers his mouth.

“Besides, and no offense to you but Valentine was a cop . I think you know better than that by now, with everything you’ve seen.”

“I took matters into my own hands for a reason, you got me there. Nick was always getting write ups for trying to do the right thing.”

“Nick Valentine: Private Investigator. Lot better ring to it than ‘Nick the cop’ eh?”

Hancock squats down and looks at him face to face.

He gets distracted for a moment observing the detail in Valentine’s metallic eyes, the gray gunmetal contrasted by the soft glow of the yellow iris that doesn’t make a complete circle. He always thought that detail was neat.

“We are self made men, we had to put in work to get where we are today and dammit, we should be proud of it.”

“You always know what to say, Hancock.” Nick sounded mildly amused.

Maybe Hancock’s speech was a little much but who cares?

Well, he does care.

Too much.

“You are right though, we have a lot in common. I guess that’s why I keep coming back.”

It’s always Valentine ‘stooping down’ to Hancock’s level.

Will he ever just be good enough?

“I know I can be hard on you, Hancock. I guess that’s just my instinct. I do appreciate you.”

Liar.

Why does his approval mean so much?

Why doesn’t it feel real if it is given?

“Are you alright? You look like you’re about to cry.”

Hancock stands up.

“I’m still mad about the ghouls of Diamond City.”

Valentine shifts his posture, tense but professional.

“I regret-”

“-Don’t. Don’t do that. Don’t tell me how bad it makes you feel that you let innocent people die because you didn’t want to give up your cushy little flat. Actually, do tell me. I want to know how bad it hurts, because I feel like it doesn’t. Did you think simply not telling McDonough about our plan to smuggle the ghouls out was enough? Because that was bare fucking minimum.”

“John, where is this coming from?”

Valentine could tell his reaction was too quick, too sharp and wouldn’t end well.

Hancock clenches his fists and starts breathing heavily.

“I… I think you should leave, Nick.”

“Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

“Goodnight, Valentine.”

Hancock swiftly opens the door.

Valentine hesitantly stands up and leaves, giving Hancock a concerned look.

He was willing to have a discussion about that night, but it came out of nowhere.

Hancock is devastated. He looks at his trembling hands.

Why did he do that? Everything was going so well.

“Great, haha! You lost your cool! Now you made it awkward for everyone!”

What’s wrong with him?

Maybe he’ll just take more chems and go to bed early.

He needs to be numb right now.

#valencock #nick valentine #john hancock #fallout 4 #fanfiction #fallout fanfic #ansgt btw

4 notes · View notes