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Audrey sewed pretty well for someone who insisted that Codsworth had been the household’s answer to the canyon-sized gaps in her and Nate’s domestic knowledge. She’d been at it for hours, after pushing around a quiet supper and half-listening to Shaun talk about Aunt Cait teaching him basic melee stance. She’d been kind of off for a while, but when Hancock asked about it he got an easy grin that was as good as a waving hand. No worries stud, just a little tired.
She started sewing after he got into the Jet for the evening, with Shaun only just in bed on the floor underneath them. He was pretty content to just watch her, ‘til he realized how big the coat she was putting together was. “How many people you plannin’ on puttin’ in there?” he asked groggily. She froze like she just realized he was there.
“J-Just… it’s a coat,” she argued.
“Big one,” he agreed. She looked down, then back up at him. “Too big for you.”
“Ain’t for me.” Her voice was quiet and kind of hoarse and he didn’t say anything in return. Maybe it was for Danse— he was a big guy, and Hancock knew that Audrey hated that he wouldn’t talk to her anymore. Coulda been like a peace offering, for blowing up his floating ship. It’d been months since then, though— long enough to get all the Squires she’d snagged relocated to new homes and settlements that could handle their little brainwashed heads. A coat seemed a kind of cold comfort.
He had plenty of time to speculate about it, because she worked on it diligently for weeks. She had to bring it out because whoever she was making it for was a decent sized person. It had to be Danse, because he was the only one who could ever fit in it— Cait was lean like a mongrel, Hancock was scrawny like two twigs tied together, and Deacon ran a bit more on the pudgy side. If it wasn’t for Danse then maybe Drey just wanted some big ass coat for no reason.
He only knew it was finished because she actually interrupted him spending time with Shaun. She usually just let them hang out— some residual fear that her original fuckwit of a son had programmed some ghoul-hate in there that Hancock had to fix with his charming personality— but just as Shaun was about to try and start the mini-generator he’d been working on, Audrey pulled on Hancock’s shoulder. “Hey Sunshine.” Hancock noted that she had the coat on.
“Can we head out soon?” she asked.
“You’re leaving already?” Shaun forgot his generator and spun his chair over to face his mother. There was always a kind of hesitance in him, like he wanted to hug her and then second guessed himself— maybe being a synth bugged him a little more than he mentioned. Drey reached out to pull a hand through his hair, grinning.
“Don’t worry about it kid. Short trip this time.” She looked back at John, who shrugged.
“Sure thing. Raincheck?” He looked at Shaun, who nodded eagerly. Audrey slipped between them to squeeze the kid, kissing his face like she always did when she left.
Hancock followed her down to the road, slinging a lazy arm around her. She leaned into the touch but didn’t give him a game plan until they were through Sanctuary and in the woods behind the settlement. “We’re going to the Vault,” she said without preamble. He looked at the coat again and—
“Oh.” Not for Danse then.
“I know it’s stupid but I just suddenly got it in my head that… he might be cold, you know?” She looked over at him imploringly and he just nodded, dropping her waist to squeeze her hand.
“I don’t think its stupid, Drey,” he promised her. “Wherever Nate is, I’m sure he appreciates the gesture.” Her teeth dug into her lip and she just nodded. It was hard to tell behind her sunglasses how she was doing.
“I know I should just shut up and get him out of there but— where would I put him?” she demanded. Hancock shrugged, because he really didn’t know. He knew Sanctuary wasn’t an option— it wasn’t her house anymore, and neither of them had been real fond of the suburb where the government had generously placed them— and the Rocket wouldn’t be any better, with her having to see the fresh-turned dirt. Anywhere else was too far to carry a corpse just a little bit bigger than both of them (well, a lot bigger than Hancock).
“Baby steps,” he told her. “It’s like a memorial in pieces, you know? The burying just comes last instead of first.” She nodded a few times, then pulled off her sunglasses to swipe irritably at her eyes.
“I hate that he’s still trapped down there, but—” She cut herself off and shook her head. “As long as he’s in there, then he won’t…” He knew what she meant. The cryo pods were still technically running, even if life support’d crapped out years ago. As long as he was in the pod, he wouldn’t rot away like a corpse.
“No one’s blaming you for that but you,” he reminded her. It was sort of hypocritical for him to say— he sure as shit knew that it wasn’t really comforting— but she seemed to take it okay. She stopped their hike forward and crouched down on the ground, taking a few deep breaths. “Take it slow as you want, Sunshine,” he said, settling down next to her. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”
Kind of a dumb joke for someone who’d lived through the apocalypse, but it made her laugh anyway.