Chapter Text
They started walking again, side by side. She’d thought about it a hundred times today, but this loop felt different. She’d felt that optimism before and had those hopes dashed just as many times. There was something new between them now– something that hadn’t been there on previous loops and it made her nervous. Nervous to lose the fight and end up back in her bedroll, everything erased and reset. Nervous to lose Hancock in another ill-fated battle against the deathclaw. Nervous to find out what might be around the corner if they did win. Not likely, she thought, but wouldn’t that be something?
Nora directed Hancock to duck into an alleyway with her, pointing silently up when they reached the rusting fire escape. When they made it to the roof, she ran through the motions of showing Hancock their greatest foe. The alpha albino deathclaw that picked along the edges of the bay near the overpass. She threw an arm over his shoulder and pointed it out. His eyes grew wide.
“I named him-”
“Steve,” Hancock finished.
Nora stared at him, the unfamiliar feeling of shock flaring for a brief second. Had she told him earlier in this loop about Steve?
“How did you know that?”
He shrugged. “It’s what I’d name something I wanted to make less scary.”
“It doesn’t work, does it?”
“Not one bit.”
Nora grinned, but still took note of the fact that Hancock had known the stupid name she’d given the deathclaw all those loops ago. He wasn’t supposed to remember.
“I’ve found the best way is to try to injure him from up here, first,” Nora explained, unholstering her sniper rifle and dropping down to one knee to line up her shot. Before she could flick the safety on, Hancock loomed next to her and cleared his throat. She looked up from the scope.
“I ain’t gonna promise it’ll work, but I have an idea,” Hancock said.
He reached out and gently directed the barrel of her gun away from Steve, further west and stopped at a break in the buildings where sacks of meat could be seen hanging from ramshackle scaffolding. She looked through her scope and saw the camp of Super Mutants she’d tried to avoid most loops, and accidentally angered a few times.
“Let’s let those ugly fuckers give Steve a bit of a fight first, then we can swoop in after.”
Nora was taken aback. She had never considered letting the dangers of the wasteland fight each other. She had always, always thought it was on her shoulders to defeat every enemy. Single-handedly, most often. It hadn’t even occurred to her that someone other than her could do as much or more damage, leaving her a weakened enemy.
It was brilliant. It was reckless. It was something only Hancock could have thought of.
Nora smiled widely, standing back up and quickly pulling Hancock by his lapel for a quick kiss, something she’d done hundreds of times before.
“What was that for?” he asked.
“We might die, and you won’t remember when it all resets–”
“Oh, I won’t be forgetting this time, sweetheart,” he interjected with a sideways grin. “Because this time, you won’t be dyin’.”
She grinned, adding another mental tally mark to the surprises this loop, and crouched back down to set up her shot. She peppered the camp with bullets that grazed or wounded, but didn’t kill. The mutants whipped their heads this way and that, searching for the source of the onslaught. How many times had Nora crouched on this roof, holding her breath and trying to make a one-in-a-million shot to wound the deathclaw? This time she could just spray the camp with bullets, precise aim being an afterthought. It was almost relaxing. The group continued searching, and Nora shot Hancock a sideways glance and a grin as they found Steve, instead.
They succeeded in wounding him, but at a great cost.
Nora’s hands clenched the rifle as she scanned the carnage below. Steve roared, tearing through the last Super Mutant with brutal efficiency. Thick, green blood splattered across the cracked concrete as the last mutant's body crumpled beneath massive and unyielding claws, lifeless.
"Now or never, Sunshine," Hancock murmured beside her, voice gruff and tight with focus. His words seemed easy, but she caught the edge of tension behind them. In all of the loops where they went up against the deathclaw, they never made it out. She’d become listless about the battle, barely even frightened. Until now. This time, she felt everything.
Nora exhaled sharply, steeling herself against the knot in her gut. She wasn’t going to watch Hancock die again– not this time.
She glanced at him, his scarred face half-shadowed beneath his tricorn hat, his trademark smirk missing. His shotgun was already in hand, and as always, he seemed reckless, too fearless. She was too aware of his presence, too aware of how many times this had gone wrong.
But this time… this time had to be different. He’d said with such confidence that it would be, and she had to believe it.
She nodded, and they moved. Down the fire escape, their boots clanged against the rusted metal. As they hit the ground, the air was thick with the metallic smell of blood and death, a stench that clung to the back of Nora’s throat. She’d been here before. Too many times.
Steve stood amidst the broken bodies of the Super Mutants, hulking, hunched, but not yet aware of them. Its massive shoulders flexed as it tore a chunk of flesh from one of the corpses, distracted for a moment.
“Gotta love his eating habits,” Hancock whispered, trying for levity, but his eyes were locked on the beast.
Nora lined up her shot, her hands shaking slightly.
Her hands never shook.
She knew this wouldn’t be enough, not even close, but it had to start somewhere. With a steady breath, she pulled the trigger. The shot slammed into Steve’s shoulder, a direct hit. It barely seemed to register, but it was enough of an annoyance to get his attention. The beast whipped around, eyes locking onto them with that unnatural, red glow. The ground seemed to quake as Steve reared back, letting out a bone-rattling roar.
And then it charged.
“Move!” Hancock yelled, diving to the side. Nora barely had time to react, throwing herself into a roll as Steve’s massive claws slashed through the air where she’d been standing. The wind from the swing sent her hair whipping around her face as she scrambled to her feet, reloading her rifle.
“Damn it, Hancock,” she muttered under her breath, her heart racing. Her fear wasn’t for herself, it was for him. Every death she’d witnessed, every time Steve had torn him apart before her eyes. It haunted her. She couldn’t let it happen again.
The ghoul was already up, shooting wildly, barely aiming, his body moving like it was part of the chaos itself. He weaved in and out of Steve’s range, firing shot after shot into the beast's side.
"Yeah, you ugly bastard! Over here!" Hancock taunted, grinning wildly, his eyes burning with reckless energy.
Nora watched him, her stomach in knots. Too close , she thought. He was getting too close.
“Stay back!” she called, her voice tight. But Hancock either didn’t hear her or didn’t care– he was still dancing with death, a little too loose with his shots, every movement on the edge of disaster. She had to remind herself that she’d given her word that she’d let him fight– that she’d fight with him instead of protecting him. But every instinct fought against that in her head and her fingers continued to tremble against the grip of her gun.
The Deathclaw swiped at him again, its claws barely missing his head. Hancock laughed— laughed —but she saw the near-miss. Saw how close he’d come to being obliterated.
With practiced breath, she aimed at Steve’s legs. If they could cripple it, they might have a chance.
“Get ready!” she shouted, and fired.
The bullet hit its mark, slamming into Steve’s knee joint. The creature staggered, its movement faltering for the first time.
“Good one, sunshine!” Hancock called, but even he sounded more strained now.
Steve roared again, eyes blazing with fury. It wasn’t down yet. Far from it.
Before Nora could react, Steve lunged forward, faster than she expected for its size. Its massive claw swiped toward Hancock, and this time, it hit.
“Hancock!” she screamed, her heart seizing in her chest.
Hancock flew backward, his body slamming into the side of a ruined car. His shotgun skittered across the ground, too far to reach. For a moment, he didn’t move, and time seemed to slow.
No, no, no—
She’d seen this too many times. Too many. Her mind raced, panic clawing at her. She couldn’t do this again. Couldn’t lose him again.
Steve turned toward her, eyes gleaming with primal hunger. It started its approach, each step shaking the earth beneath her feet.
But Nora couldn’t tear her eyes away from Hancock. He wasn’t moving. Her chest tightened, fear crashing over her like a tidal wave. Get up, please get up… She’d seen him die too many times, seen that reckless grin vanish in a pool of his own blood, over and over. The time loop had stolen so many things from her, but watching him die, helpless to stop it, had always been the worst.
This wasn’t the time to dwell on two thousand days of torment. She only had one thing to focus on right now.
With a ragged breath, she turned her focus back to Steve. The Deathclaw lumbered toward her, each step a heavy drumbeat in her chest. The sun glinted off its white armored skin, causing her to squint. She backed up, hands fumbling as she reloaded her rifle. Her mind raced through the possibilities. She needed a plan. Hancock was down. It was up to her now. If she died, she’d be right back in the time loop. Just another day, another attempt. But they’d never gotten this close to actually defeating him.
Focus, Nora. She gritted her teeth, raised the rifle, and fired.
The bullet hit Steve’s side, but it wasn’t enough to stop the beast. It roared, claws swinging in her direction with a ferocity that made the air seem to ripple. Nora ducked, rolling out of the way just in time. The ground where she’d stood exploded into rubble as Steve’s claws shredded the asphalt.
Her breaths came fast and shallow. Her heart was fluttering within her chest, a metronome without a consistent beat as her eyes frantically scanned the battleground near the crumbling overpass and the bay. She wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate. Her own nerves were shot, and if Hancock didn’t get up soon, she wasn’t sure she’d even have the desire to keep going.
A low groan cut through the chaos, and she spared a glance toward him. Hancock was stirring, pushing himself up on one elbow, blood dripping from a gash on his forehead.
“Ugh... Haven’t been knocked that hard since I beat Fahrenheit at chess,” he groaned, shaking his head.
Relief flooded her, but it was short-lived and Nora forced the emotion down, focusing on the drooling, injured creature before them. She knew they couldn’t rest, couldn’t celebrate - knew that Steve wasn’t done with them yet.
She was right.
The Deathclaw charged again, this time coming at her full force, closing the gap faster than she could aim. Her heart seized; she had no time to dodge. But just before Steve could strike, there was a wild, echoing bang .
Hancock had fired.
The shot went wide– of course it did, the shotgun more of an extension of his unpredictable nature than something worth aiming carefully– but the noise was enough to get Steve’s attention. The Deathclaw skidded to a stop, turning toward him with a snarl.
“Yeah, that’s right, you albino bastard,” Hancock rasped, staggering to his feet. He wiped blood from his eyes, unsteady but defiant. “Come and get some.”
Steve roared, its enormous claws digging into the ground as it prepared to charge again, but Hancock wasn’t backing down. His lips curled into a grin, wild and reckless, and Nora’s heart ached at the hidden bravery behind the bravado.
Her pulse quickened though as she watched them stand off against one another, as she realized just how reckless he was being. That bravery might just be the death of them both. Hancock wouldn’t survive another hit like that.
This was it. She had one shot left.
Everything seemed to slow. The world narrowed to just her, Hancock, and Steve. Her hands were trembling, and her heart pounded in her ears, but she couldn’t miss. Not now. Not when it mattered the most. She lined up the rifle, aimed for Steve’s skull, and held her breath.
Steve was almost on Hancock.
Nora squeezed the trigger.
The bullet slammed into the deathclaw’s skull with a sickening thud. How many times, on that roof, had she tried to land that shot? Had she aimed for that glowing eye and failed, and died for it - something was looking out for them today, her relief bubbling up within her, effervescent. Early, too early, she couldn’t celebrate yet. The creature let out one final, furious roar as it stumbled, its massive frame teetering. Then, slowly, with red eyes looking at her in a facsimile of disbelief, Steve crumpled to the ground. The weight of its body shook the earth one last time before it finally lay still.
The dust settled around them.
Nora didn’t lower her rifle until she was sure. Until Steve didn’t move again.
Her chest heaved, her whole body shaking with the release of tension. It was over. They had won. And for the first time in what felt like an eternity, the loop hadn’t claimed her.
Or Hancock.
Were they finally free ?
He staggered over to her, swaying slightly but with that familiar cocky grin plastered on his face. “Hell of a shot, Sunshine,” he rasped, wincing as he wiped more blood from his forehead.
Nora let out a shaky breath and finally lowered the rifle. Her legs felt like they might give out any second, but she managed to stay upright. She glanced at Hancock, trying to keep her expression neutral, but her heart was still hammering in her chest—still raw with the fear of losing him.
"You–" Her voice cracked, and she swallowed hard. "You could've died. Again."
Hancock’s grin faltered, just for a second. Something passed between them. They’d been through this together more times than he knew, shared so much more in the loops than he seemed capable of comprehending. He didn’t know the way her heart was ripped from her every time he died in the loop, the very reason for her insistence to keep him out of the fray in the first place. It hadn’t just been about keeping control, it had been because her feelings for the wise-cracking, dangerous ghoul had threatened to overwhelm her.
“Hey, I’m still kicking.” He shot her a lopsided smile, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Gotta have a little faith, right?”
Nora looked away, her chest tight with emotions she couldn’t quite put into words. She shoved them down deep inside herself and forced a smile.
“We did it,” she said softly, just above a whisper as she looked at the lifeless body of the deathclaw they’d once called Steve. He didn’t seem so scary anymore.
After 2000 loops. 2000 times trying to defeat the undefeatable monster, they had finally won.
And Hancock was with her, every step of the way. He was alive .
“Well,” Hancock said, breaking the silence, “I don’t know about you, but I think we’ve had enough quality time with ol’ Steve.” He kicked the Deathclaw’s corpse lightly with his boot. “Guy never knows when to quit.”
Nora let out a breathy laugh, more from relief than anything else, and looked up at him. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Lead the way, Sunshine,” Hancock said, his voice softer now, as if sensing her unspoken turmoil.
As they walked away from the ruins, leaving Steve behind, Nora cast one last glance at the beast. For the first time, there was no reset. No loop. Just forward.
Things in this loop had been different, after all.
She jerked her head toward the crumbling overpass looming over them, and he gave a low whistle. It was their only way forward, she knew, but she’d never made it all the way across. Today was a day of firsts, inexplicably, so she holstered her rifle and set foot on the raised asphalt. She waited for just a moment, almost expecting some other danger to come out of the woodwork. For a raider to appear, or a creature, or…or something, ready to kill them both and put her right back to square one. A boot against her feet, a familiar voice telling her she’d had enough beauty sleep. She couldn’t do it, not again, not now that she’d tasted relief.
Nora took a second step onto the overpass, then a third, then made it a few yards. Nothing came to attack them. Eventually, they got to the very peak of the overpass, the crashing waves of the bay spread out below them and the skyline of Boston looming on the near horizon. Nora stopped to take it in, the sun glinting off of the few windows that hadn’t been shattered hundreds of years prior. Hancock stopped and leaned against the railing of the destroyed former interstate, arms crossed and watching her. He was silent and she felt the cool breeze of air that, for once, didn’t carry that metallic twinge of radiation.
She turned to him with a genuine smile on her face, finally feeling like they might have actually gotten out of it. Maybe thousands of failed attempts had finally been washed away with one hard-won victory.
“We’ve never gotten this far before,” Nora said reverently and quietly, as if afraid to jinx the whole thing.
Hancock remained silent, his brows furrowed.
Nora pointed back down the sloping overpass at a bright orange bus. “One time, we made it to that bus and Steve pinned us inside. That was the furthest we ever made it.”
A wane smile crossed her lips in reminiscence.
“That’s right. You wouldn’t remember that.”
“No,” he said softly, his face scrunched into an expression of confusion and deep thought. “I– I think I do .”
Her head snapped up quickly.
“Now why do I remember that, Sunshine?”
She was stunned into silence. Hancock pushed off of the barrier and began to pace, fortunately not waiting for an answer she couldn’t give.
“All day it’s been happening,” he said. “A flash here, a phrase there.”
Nora held her breath.
“I just thought it was a jet flashback,” Hancock continued to pace across the cracked asphalt of the overpass. “Hell, maybe it is but-”
Nora couldn’t say anything. After all this time, all these sudden surprises, this was the one that had her completely floored. She’d never, never in 2000 days, expected Hancock to have any recollection of the loop. Sure, she’d wished for it every now and then, wished he’d remember things confessed or moments shared. But the very idea of him remembering also terrified her, because she knew the horrible things she’d seen, the ways he must have watched her die, the hopelessness you felt in this place between time.
His hand was on his tricorn hat as he processed it all. He stopped and turned to her. His eyes met hers and she saw a storm of turmoil and realization there. She exhaled a breath she had forgotten she’d been holding.
“I told you I would remember. That night in that old apartment. Before it all ended again, I told you–”
“Hancock, you never remember–”
“Two thousand days,” he muttered over her protests. “In my mind, I met ya less than a month ago, but you’ve known me for years at this point, huh?
She nodded.
“So you meant it.” He moved closer and she could feel the heat radiating from him as he kept eye contact with her. She couldn’t look away. Her heart beat loudly in her ears. She was terrified in a way the deathclaw hadn’t caused in a long, long time.
“You meant it when you said you’d fallen for me, didn’t you?”
Cold adrenaline washed over her like a wave crashing against rocks.
She remembered that day. If she’d been capable of dreaming, it would have lived in that space as she played it over and over in her head.
The ancient wood of the door to the third-floor apartment had splintered easily when Hancock kicked it in, his foot crashing against the weakened frame. Dust floated lazily in the air, disturbed by the force, but neither of them cared about the ruin around them.
They had barely made it inside before they were in each other's arms again; lips colliding, hands frantically exploring as if they were starving for each other. This was a loop where Nora had flirted back, matching Hancock’s suggestive remarks with every bit of heat and fire he gave. And, as always, when they were together, it had quickly gotten out of hand.
Neither of them had wanted to stop. When she had shoved him back onto the threadbare mattress, his husky laugh echoed through the abandoned apartment. It was a sound that vibrated through her, grounding her for just a fleeting moment in this absurd, endless cycle. The old bed creaked beneath them, but neither paid it any mind as they lost themselves in each other.
Later, they lay tangled in the aftermath, bare skin against bare skin, their clothes carelessly scattered across the floor, blending in with the dust and decay. Hancock’s arm was draped around her, and she pressed her cheek to his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his breathing. She could still feel the ghost of his kisses on her neck, his whispered words that made her heart tighten despite herself.
The moment hung heavy between them, and Nora knew she couldn’t hold it in any longer. If she was going to die anyway, might as well enjoy it while she could. She propped herself up on one elbow, her heart pounding.
“Against my better judgment,” she began, her voice tinged with a self-deprecating smirk, trying to make light of the seriousness in her chest. “I think I’ve fallen for you, John Hancock.”
She waited, every second stretched out, dreading his response, bracing herself for rejection or disbelief– or worse, indifference.
Hancock was silent at first. His black eyes searched her face, not in shock, but with an intensity that made her stomach flutter. Then, with a quick tug on her wrist, he pulled her toward him and caught her lips in another kiss, this one different from the others. It was soft, slow, and sweet. It wasn’t out of lust, but something deeper, speaking the unspoken without words.
Nora melted into the kiss, her body relaxing against him as his arm snaked around her waist, pulling her closer. The kiss deepened, and in that moment, she could almost let herself believe that maybe this time– just maybe – things would be different.
But when they finally broke apart, the weight she had been carrying returned, heavier than ever. The knowledge that this day would repeat, that this confession would be erased, gnawed at her. She could already feel the melancholy pooling in her chest, her heart sinking under the crushing weight of it all.
Hancock noticed the shift immediately. He gently tilted her chin with one finger, forcing her to meet his gaze. His voice was soft, concerned. “Hey, now. What’s wrong, Sunshine?”
Nora’s throat tightened. She wanted to bury it, to just enjoy this moment for what it was, but she couldn’t. Not anymore.
“You won’t remember this,” she whispered, her voice breaking. “When it all resets. When I die.”
Hancock frowned slightly, his hand brushing a lock of hair from her face. He leaned in, pressing a kiss to her cheek, then another along her jaw, his lips warm against her skin. “I will remember, Nora,” he whispered against her, his voice as soft and sincere as it had ever been. “I promise.”
She closed her eyes, holding onto those words as if they could anchor her, as if they would make a difference. But deep down, she knew the truth. It was an unintentional lie. One born of love and hope, but still a lie.
She’d died within the hour. The loop had reset like it always did. And when she’d woken up in her bedroll, the memories of their confession had been hers alone. Hancock had been the same as always, kicking her awake, packing his gear like nothing had happened. The day had reset, and with it, everything they’d shared had vanished from his mind.
She had stared at him that morning, heart aching, hoping, praying , that something in his eyes would tell her he remembered. That he would look at her with the same love, the same understanding he’d shown her the night before. But there had been nothing. Just the same casual smirk, the same easygoing quip.
The heartbreak had been sharp, immediate. She had wanted to scream, to shake him, to force him to remember, but instead, she swallowed the hurt, the dismay sinking deep into her chest. She had channeled her pain into cold, hard rage when they fought the raiders that day, her movements sharper, more brutal than ever before.
And after that day, she couldn’t bring herself to say it again.
What was the point? He would forget. He always forgot.
So instead, she had focused on protecting him. Each loop, she threw herself into keeping him safe, even if it meant she had to die. Even if it meant living with the constant ache of loving someone who couldn’t remember loving her back.
But now, here they were. They’d survived. They’d made it. She was still terrified that she’d wake up on that bedroll the next morning. She was pulled back into the moment, with the ghoul watching her expectantly, waiting for her answer.
“I meant it, John.”
His black eyes searched hers. “Do you still mean it?”
Nora hesitated, the silence stretching between them, heavy like the air before a storm. His gaze never left hers, unwavering, waiting. The weight of the question sank into her, deeper than she expected. She thought of all the loops, the way her heart had wrenched every time Hancock met his fate before she did, the way it shattered a little more when he didn’t remember her confession, or how his ignorance of her feelings had left scars within her as deep as those on his skin.
But she also thought of everything else. The laughter, the banter, the times his presence had kept her grounded. The way she knew she’d have cracked long before now, gone utterly mad, if he hadn’t been there with her.
“Yes,” she said, her voice firm, but quiet.
A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I didn’t expect that lapse in judgment from you, but I guess it works out for me, doesn’t it?”
She rolled her eyes and swatted playfully at his arm, but before she could pull back, he caught her wrist in one smooth motion. His grip was warm, secure, and with a quick pull, he drew her in close– closer than she expected. The distance between them vanished in an instant, and her breath hitched as his hand slid to the small of her back, his fingers splaying against her skin, holding her firmly against him.
He dropped her wrist, and it naturally found its place on his shoulder as he gently cupped her face. His thumb brushed the delicate skin of her cheekbone, a touch so soft, so reverent, it felt like a quiet promise.
“I think, maybe,” he began, his voice a low murmur meant only for her, rough but steady, “I’ve loved you for a long time. I had trouble remembering it until now. But it was there, all the same.”
Nora inhaled sharply, her heart stuttering at the words. He did remember. She searched his face, her mind racing, but her heart was speaking louder. Could it be possible? Could love transcend the loops, anchoring them even when time itself unraveled? Maybe he hadn’t known, hadn’t remembered fully, but the feelings had still been there, buried beneath the haze of reset after reset.
For once, she forced herself to stop questioning. To just feel it.
Her hands slid behind his neck, pulling him closer still. The world around them seemed to fade into a soft blur, leaving just the two of them in this quiet moment. Without another thought, she closed the distance, her lips finding his in a kiss that was both desperate and gentle, a mixture of everything she’d held back for so long.
She kissed him with the intensity of someone who had lived a thousand lifetimes with him, someone who had loved him across time and death and back again.
Hancock’s lips met hers with equal fervor, his arm tightening around her waist as if he never wanted to let go. In that moment, nothing else mattered—no loops, no resets, no fears of the future. It was just them. Here. Now.
Standing on the peak of the overpass, carnage left in their wake, a dead deathclaw on the ground and the sun just beginning to dip behind the skyscrapers, they were oblivious to everything around them. They were lost, bodies flush against each other and formerly unspoken words discussed with lips too busy to speak.
Nora was breathing heavily when they separated, and Hancock rested his forehead against hers, smiling. She couldn’t help but laugh lightly in response. 2000 days. It had taken 2000 days to get to this point and right now, she felt like it had all been worth it.
Mercifully, there were no obstacles the rest of the way down the overpass. Rather than holding their firearms, Hancock had taken her hand in his without a word. They walked in sync until they stood together in front of what she’d begun calling the “ Macguffin Manor .” The old fishpacking plant that had been their original destination, 2000 loops ago. The one she thought might finally break the loop if they made it.
The sight of mirelurk eggs in a nest just outside the door told her, however, that their fighting wasn’t quite over just yet.
After the battle to kill Steve, a few mirelurks barely phased them, though. Hancock and Nora took them out like they’d been fighting side-by-side for an eternity. The stench of salt water and rotting fish permeated the air as they cleared the main floor and worked down through the levels. The basement held the reason for their quest out here in the first place.
They secured the chem lab without another fight, and she pretended not to notice Hancock stuffing a few inhalers and tins in his pockets here and there. Marowski would already be losing his most profitable lab, he wouldn’t miss any of the inventory. With any luck, this would force him out of Goodneighbor for good. When Hancock had heard the owner of the Rexford had been telling his underlings to sell to kids, the wrath he’d displayed was terrifying. “That kind of shit doesn’t fly in Goodneighbor,” he had said before they set out on their mission. Nora had been killing two birds with one stone and taking care of an old grudge back in Diamond City with the same fell swoop.
The two of them left the plant, both wanting to get away from the stench of rotting fish, and found a home nearby that had only been partially destroyed. The top level might have collapsed, but the rest of it was intact, and they sat on the steps to the wrapping porch for a long while. She refused when Hancock tried to convince her to get some sleep. She couldn’t afford to lose this day, to end up back in the loop after everything they’d been through. It would be the time it would break her, she knew it.
The clock on her pipboy clicked past midnight and the date changed. She exhaled sharply. Never, not in almost 5 years stuck in the loop, had they ever survived past midnight. A few hours later, she finally felt like she could breathe again when the sun began to break over the horizon. By noon, she had begun to accept that maybe they’d actually escaped it.
That night, she let herself fall asleep for the first time in half a decade of lived-days. Hancock held her close until she drifted off. Dreamless, peaceful, comfortable sleep. She’d missed that serenity, and she felt sleep begin to soothe the strains of the loop and disappear into the silence.
She floated back to the edge of consciousness and for a moment, she was sure she could feel the jagged piece of concrete digging into her side and the light cushion of her bedroll. She waited to feel Hancock’s boots kick her awake.
It didn’t come.
She opened one eye and was surprised to see the same room and mattress in which they’d fallen asleep. Moth-eaten, orange curtains colored the sunlight into a warm glow. Long shadows were cast across the wall with the early morning light breaking through the window panes. The blanket across them was flimsy but comforting, tickling her as she adjusted.
Hancock was already awake, his torn and calloused fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns across her back. The touch was rough, but gentle, each stroke a soothing reminder that she wasn’t alone anymore. Nora lay with her head nestled against his collarbone, feeling the rise and fall of his chest, the steady rhythm of his breath against her ear. His scent, a mix of worn leather and smoke, was comforting in a way she hadn’t expected.
When he noticed her stir, he pressed his cracked lips tenderly to the side of her head. The gesture was intimate, unspoken, full of quiet affection that spoke louder than words.
“Shhh, Sunshine,” he murmured, his voice soft, rough around the edges. “It’s a new day.”
Nora smiled against his chest, the weight of those words settling over her like a warm blanket. “A new day,” she echoed, her voice hoarse with disbelief. “Fuckin’ finally.”
Neither of them rushed to move. For once, time wasn’t an enemy. They stayed like that, wrapped in each other’s warmth, savoring the stillness that had been so rare for so long. The urgency, the endless repetition that had haunted her for years– it was gone now, replaced by a gentle calm she hadn’t known in what felt like an eternity.
When they finally did rise from the bed, it was slow and unhurried. Every movement felt deliberate, like they were rediscovering what it meant to simply live without the weight of the loops pressing down on them. Hancock stretched lazily, his joints creaking with the motion, while Nora lingered for a moment, soaking in the quiet morning light filtering through the cracked windows. Eventually, they rose, dressed, and got back on the road, deciding to take a different route back to Goodneighbor.
The trek was blissfully uneventful. The empty streets echoed around them, tall buildings disappearing into a soft gray sky. There were no ambushes, no raiders, no deathclaws lurking in the shadows. Just the steady crunch of their boots on the cracked asphalt. For once, the world felt almost peaceful.
As they walked, Nora filled the quiet with stories. Absurd tales from the countless loops she’d lived through. She spoke of the strange encounters, the ridiculous situations she’d repeated, and the ways she’d tried and failed to break free. Hancock laughed with her, his raspy chuckle full of life, a sound that made her heart feel lighter. Now that the nightmare was over, the loops felt less like a curse and more like something they could joke about, something they could leave behind.
She opened up more, too– letting him in in a way she hadn’t before. He’d forgotten so much, of course. The conversations they’d had, the things she’d told him over and over again in other timelines, lost in the haze of resetting days. But now, she told him again, this time knowing that he’d remember. The walls between them had come down, the distance between her guarded heart and his easygoing charm finally closing. His usual suggestive lines, the playful teasing she had once dismissed as empty banter, now carried weight. They were real, genuine, and they made her smile in a way she hadn’t for so long.
They talked and joked while they walked, the tension between them easing with every step, their footsteps falling in sync. Hancock’s easy laughter echoed through the stillness, and Nora found herself laughing with him, really laughing , for the first time in what felt like forever.
They both agreed, the first thing they’d do when they reached Goodneighbor was head straight to the Third Rail. A drink sounded like salvation. They’d sit in the smoky, dimly lit bar, order something strong, and try to forget together. Forget the loops, the pain, the endless repetition and just be .
As they rounded the corner of a building, a surprised shout rang out in the crisp air. They both quickly ducked behind the corner again and grabbed their firearms.
“Gunner,” Hancock said in a whisper. “With more behind him.”
He’d caught a good enough look to know, whereas Nora had only seen the machine gun in the stranger’s hands. She nodded seriously and reloaded her rifle.
“What do you want to do?” She asked Hancock. He grinned at her before answering– they both knew that once, she’d rather have clawed her own throat out than relinquish control to someone else. But she trusted him. They worked together like a well-oiled machine at this point. She knew they couldn’t take on a well-trained group like the Gunners without relying on one another.
They laid out a plan together quickly, Nora taking the further away targets with her ranged rifle and Hancock taking on the ones on the street. They nodded to each other and just before they popped out from behind the corner, Hancock pulled her in for a brief kiss. She smiled back when they broke it.
“For good luck,” he said, and they both jumped into action.
Nora dropped to one knee and aimed her rifle. Hancock rushed at the Gunner they’d startled, one shot to the chest from his shotgun silencing any further shouts of alarm. In a flurry of gunfire, they quickly decimated the numbers of their ramshackle outpost. Nora stood and moved closer to target those hiding behind the cover of corrugated metal walls.
In an instant, pain ripped through her nerves like fire, and Nora gasped, the air leaving her lungs in a ragged rush. Her rifle slipped from her grasp and clattered to the cracked asphalt, the sound distant against the roaring pulse in her ears.
A lucky shot. Straight to the gut.
Her hand flew to the wound, instinctive and desperate. When she brought it back, slick and warm, it was covered in deep red, the blood seeping through her fingers, hot and unstoppable. Her mind screamed at her to act, to keep fighting. She unholstered her pistol, her trembling left hand lifting the weight of the 10mm. She wanted to aim, to squeeze the trigger, but the strength fled from her fingers before she could fire. The gun slipped from her grip, falling beside her with a dull thud, and her knees buckled beneath her.
The ground came up to meet her.
Nora sank to the ruined street, the world spinning as her blood pooled beneath her. The taste of iron coated her tongue as her vision blurred at the edges. Somewhere, far away, she heard the sharp crack of a shotgun, and then the shooter, the one who’d hit her, collapsed like a rag doll, his chest blown apart by the blast.
Silence followed. It rang in her ears, heavy and final.
Hancock was at her side before she could fully register the fall, his arms around her, pulling her back against his chest, supporting her as her body began to fail. His breath was ragged in her ear, panicked, and she felt his hands, rough and scarred, fumbling to tear away the blood-soaked fabric of her vault suit. The wound was ugly; concave and gushing dark blood, with no exit wound. Just a bullet lodged somewhere deep inside her.
Her vision dimmed further, the world swimming in and out of focus as her feet went numb beneath her. She’d been here before, too many times to count. The cold embrace of death was nothing new.
Thousands of deaths, all of them blurring together.
What was one more?
But this time, it was different. Hancock’s voice was there, raw and frantic. His hands gripped her tighter as he called her name, begging her to stay with him, the desperation in his voice slicing through the haze. His words were garbled now, incoherent, but filled with anguish.
Her heart ached for him, for the man who’d fought beside her and loved her across space and time.
She wanted to tell him it was okay. That she’d be back. That this wasn’t the end… but she didn’t know that. They’d broken the loop. This was final. This was it. Her voice wouldn’t come. Her body felt far away, the pain was gone.
It was like slipping beneath the surface of an endless black ocean, sinking deeper with each breath.
And then, she was gone.
But in an instant, again, she awoke.
There was no pain. No blood. No sound of gunfire or the suffocating silence of death. Instead, there was warmth, soft and steady, enveloping her like a quiet, familiar comfort.
Before she even opened her eyes, Nora felt the give of the mattress beneath her, the slight dip where her body pressed against it. The weight of a scavenged blanket pooled around her waist– tickling her as she moved, and she felt the slow, gentle rhythm of fingers tracing idle patterns on her bare back. She breathed in, and the air smelled of him– of old leather and smoke. It filled her lungs, grounding her in a way that almost made her believe it had all been a dream.
But it hadn’t. She knew better. She didn’t dream.
Slowly, reluctantly, Nora opened her eyes.
Golden sunlight streamed in through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. The old curtains, the same old orange, moth-eaten curtains, fluttered in the soft breeze. The same patterns crawled across the wall, casting long shadows in the early morning light. Everything was achingly familiar, down to the smallest detail. The feeling of deja vu, something she’d stopped feeling years ago, returned with a vengeance.
Her heart twisted painfully in her chest.
She pressed herself closer to Hancock’s chest, seeking something to keep her steady as her mind whirled with the implications of what she was seeing and feeling. She’d been here before. She’d seen and felt all of this before. And she knew what that meant.
Nora swallowed the lump in her throat, feeling Hancock’s steady breathing, listening to the soft rasp of his voice as he spoke.
“Shhh, Sunshine,” he whispered, his lips brushing her temple. “It’s a new day.”
It was an unintentional lie. He didn’t know. He couldn’t remember.
