The Location May Be Hellish...

[stabgremlin]

A year.

A year of treachery and of war and of megalomaniacs who really needed to cut that shit right out. A year of being the one left with the bucket and the mop, of being the one cleaning up after Jedi and Sith alike despite only being one powerless person in the middle of a mess— or more like a clusterfuck— way above his pay grade.

Nine couldn't say that he had been thinking of Hancock the entire time they had been apart.

But he could say that in the quiet moments between the insanity of it all his mind had turned to Earth. To the ghoul. To that stormy night where he had sat safe cuddled up against a man he could be confident wouldn't raise a hand to hurt him despite obviously being both dangerous and fully capable should he be given a reason to be someone's enemy. To the locket left behind that he hoped still hung around a living neck and above a beating heart.

I need a fucking vacation he had said to Marr and Lana both. He hadn't even waited for their response.

The Emperor was off licking his wounds somewhere. The work would pick back up but Nine needed the rest and the actual fucking Sith Lords could do their jobs and hold down the fort for once.

Again he had dropped his companions off where they wanted to go. Stopping by Nar Shaddaa and Alderaan and wherever else. Ignoring the way that Doctor Lokin had stared at him as though he knew that Nine was going to a place that was physically dangerous to him in ways beyond mere hostility. Barely able to ignore when Vector had given him a concerned look.

Earth was dangerous.

But Earth was good to him, too. He wasn't Cipher Nine there. Not Major Nahain, not a Spec Ops Commander. Just him. And it was good enough. Being him— messy and unsure— was good enough.

He had filled his ship with supplies. Food, clean water. Medical supplies. Medicine. Luxuries too— both to gift and to barter with. An entire crate full of those energy drinks that he had promised, that he had written down on his datapad so as to not forget. And then he had taken his droids and he had gone.

Earth was still Earth when he arrived.

Kind of messy. Kind of gross. Kind of dangerous. Kind of exactly the way he had left it.

The Phantom had been parked somewhere no one would come across it and he had his droids camouflage it so that it blended in with the surroundings more than it had the first time he visited. Supplies filled both cargo hold and the main hold and the crew's quarters as well. Ready to be moved into Goodneighbor later.

For now the Chiss moved across the quiet night and headed for where he remembered the entrance to Goodneighbor to be and suddenly he was back to someplace that felt familiar despite the fact that he hadn't spent long there really. His eyes scanned the people milling about even at such a late hour until they landed on just who he was thinking of. Who he had been missing during those quiet moments when he had had time to think. Thoughts that had come to him at an hour just like this one when he had turned in for the night and his mind laid idle.

This time it wasn't a thought though. Not a dream, not an illusion or hallucination.

Nine didn't thank the Force very often for the simple reason that he didn't really believe it had a Will capable of listening to him. Yet he wanted to thank it now.

Instead he slipped between any person in his way, skillfully ducking and weaving between people he didn't deem worth even greeting— headed straight for his reason to return in the first place.

"John," He called out, to get his attention— not that he thought it necessary with how people were laser-focusing in on him being back (and a few people who seemed to be new and looked alarmed about the blue-skinned red-eyed whatever-the-fuck suddenly in their midst.)

Using his voice to call out that name made it feel more real though. Being able to get his hands on him would be even better.

Comments

[feralnow]

Hancock had fully expected that it would be a while before he saw Nine again. He was an alien spy, and he probably had important spy mission stuff he had to do, which could take anywhere from weeks or even months. Nine hadn't made any promises on when he'd be back. Then a year went by. Hancock remained hopeful, that perhaps Nine had a reason to stay away for so long. Because the only other possibilities were that Nine had decided he didn't like the ghoul anymore, or had been killed.

He never took off the locket, except to sleep or bathe. And even then, he made sure it was locked in his drawer. They'd made a promise, and Hancock didn't break his promises.

He didn't let his feelings get in the way of his mayoral duties, continuing to run Goodneighbor, keeping out the assholes and making sure the people had a voice. His runs to the wasteland were less frequent, not wanting to risk getting killed before Nine returned.

It was while he was stepping out to hit the bar did he notice everyone's attention turned towards the front of town. He turned around just as he heard that familiar accented voice call his name.

"Nine," He whispered, immediately heading towards the Chiss.

[stabgremlin]

Did Nine want to run to him to throw himself into his arms as he saw the ghoul perk up upon spotting him? Yes. Kind of.

That would ruin his image though, the suave spy he usually played at being. And honestly it'd probably make Hancock look soft too. He had imagined it though. He had thought of Earth, of Hancock, of returning and tossing himself right back into safe arms and warm and surprisingly gentle hands.

With Hancock's attention on him, the people Nine was weaving around to get to him were kind enough to part to allow him a direct route to him. He hastened his pace toward him, stopping within reach. Not throwing himself at him the way he wanted, even though the desire was obvious in the way he shifted and fidgeted where he stood and the clear internal conflict between being a clingy boyfriend and playing it cool on his face, subtle shifts in his expression as he looked him over.

"John," He said again, voice softer now that he was closer, "You... You look good."

Stars he sounded lame. You look good. Sure it was true. He looked whole. Uninjured. Sober at the moment too even if Nine wouldn't even have minded if he was high.

Still, couldn't he just have said I missed you? Apparently not. He had definitely been in Intelligence for way too long.

[feralnow]

Tempted as he was to take Nine into his arms, he held himself back. He had pictured their reunion more than once, perhaps with them hugging or even kissing as soon as they saw each other. After a year apart, Hancock was still processing that Nine had returned to Earth, returned to him.

"Don't I always?" Hancock replied. He was back in his period outfit, the one he wore when they first met, the outfit he wore to symbolize his namesake.

"You look just as I remember you."

[stabgremlin]

Nine would agree that yes— Hancock always looked good. He was honestly just happy to see him without any obvious injury. He wasn't sure what looking healthy was like for ghouls, but Hancock looked to be just that. And he was glad for it. He had been worried on the entire flight in that he would return to find Goodneighbor razed to the ground and the ghoul hurt or worse.

With the world being what it was, he wouldn't have been surprised.

He was just glad that one thing in his life had gone right. That John Hancock was still alive and kicking and keeping his promise. He could even see the metal glint of his locket where it hung around his neck, almost hidden by the ruffles on that shirt. After a whole year of being apart, Nine wouldn't have even been upset if he'd bartered it for something more valuable to himself or the community. Something more useful than what had probably started feeling more and more like an empty promise. Like a weight around the neck more-so than Nine leaving half his heart behind for him.

"I... Doubt that."

After the stress he'd experienced Nine was still amazed he hadn't gone prematurely gray.

"But thank you for lying to me about it," He joked, with a half smile.

Maybe he did look exactly the same. He couldn't really tell any more. The tiredness he felt felt as though it had seeped all the way into his bones. But it was slightly alleviated now. Here. Looking up at the man who should have been a momentary distraction and yet in a short time had managed to wind himself around his heart and refused to let go. Or maybe it was Nine who was refusing to let go of him.

"... Buy a girl a drink?" He asked, eager to move somewhere to sit down where eyes wouldn't be on them as much, "All out of caps at the moment, I'm afraid."

[feralnow]

"Please. You're still the guy I see in my erotic dreams. Like a sexy space babe from the comics come to life, except without the vapid expression." The green babes from those space comics were really only there to be eye candy. Nine had actual thoughts in his head.

"Right this way," Looping his arm through Nine's, he walked them in the direction of The Third Rail.

"I kept it, by the way. I only took it off to sleep or wash myself."

[stabgremlin]

"I mean, I can pull those types of looks off too if you want me to."

Being vapid. A bimbo. Nine was whoever he needed to be, when he needed to be someone else. And he was happy to role play that too. But Hancock had only ever seen him as he was and wanted him all the same. The jaded, foul-mouthed little failure of a Chiss that he was. And Nine was glad for it.

As they walked, he gave his arm a gentle squeeze. It wasn't a hug. Wasn't throwing himself at him. But it was a subtle sign that he had missed him. That he needed to ground himself in the moment, to feel the firmness of his arm beneath his touch. The heat of his body through his coat.

He exhaled softly. A breath he hadn't known he'd been keeping in.

Though he should say something about how he was glad that Hancock had decided to keep the locket despite their promise probably feeling like it had been broken, the next words out of his mouth weren't some quip about it. Now that they were walking and everyone else was getting back to what they had been doing rather than staring at their reunion, he instead found himself telling the truth— he could have gone for a million different distractions. He could have used sarcasm, deflected, redirected. But the truth was what decided to come out of him.

Some fucking spy he was.

"... I missed you, John. A lot."

[feralnow]

"If I wanted vapid, I would find the first ghoul-fucker I saw and take 'em home. Or boot up one of the pleasure scenarios in the Memory Den."

He liked Nine because he was clever and witty. Not quite an alien mastermind, but Hancock imagined that you had to be pretty clever and educated to become a spy, or you weren't a very good spy and wouldn't last a day on the job.

"I missed you too. Some nights, I would just look up at the stars, wondering if you were still out there."

[stabgremlin]

Hancock truly only ever had wanted him as he was. Nine said nothing about it, but a slight dusting of purple coloring the tips of his ears probably said more than enough about how he felt about it.

"... I wanted to come back sooner."

Had intended to, even. He had thought it'd be a few months tops before he'd have the time to take off to visit him again.

But fate or life or just his horrible fucking luck had had different ideas.

Perhaps the fact that he was wearing a uniform rather than his usual style of clothes said something about how hard he'd been worked. He had lived in the damn thing so long that before heading out he had stared at his closet and wondered how exactly it was he'd used to dress himself back when he'd still had free time.

He looked up toward the sky as they walked together and sighed.

"I think it would have been easier on both of us if I just wasn't."

He would have stayed gone and Hancock could have moved on with his life. And while Nine wasn't particularly keen on dying, at least death would let him rest.

"I wish I could say that it was just the war that's kept me busy, but the space wizards apparently decided that they can't fucking do their jobs and need me to take point for them. Like asking the maid to play host at a fancy party, I swear."

He was, after all, The Help and nothing else.

Nine wished that he could say he was done too but considering what had happened on Yavin. Something worse was coming. He just knew it.

"... I'm sorry it took me so long to come back. I considered sending someone else here to let you know what was going on, but. Your continued safety is more important than being given the definitive answer on whether or not I've kicked the bucket."

And Hancock and Earth in general would not be safe for long if the Empire became aware that the place even existed.

[feralnow]

"And these space wizards are seriously your rulers?"

And yet they were enough to make Nine worry about them ever finding Earth, and not want to risk faking his death.

"Well, you're here now, and that's what matters."

Hancock took them into the Third Rail, seating them at a booth, where they had some relative privacy. He ordered them both a couple of beers to start things off, figuring they could work their way up to the hard stuff.

[stabgremlin]

"They are. There are tens of thousands of those cunts capable of snapping us lesser beings in half with the twitch of a finger. Yet they're all more interested in fighting each other than pulling their heads out of their ass to respond to the threat in front of them."

That would be unheard of in the Ascendancy. While Chiss could argue on the path forward as well as any other species out there, when their way of life was threatened they all put their differences aside to do what was best for their nation as a whole. But the Empire had never really made sense.

Of course if the Sith and the Empire as a whole had been there when the Emperor's spirit left Yavin he was pretty sure that half of them would suggest to simply serve the galaxy up to him on a silver platter like a bunch of suicidal morons.

"The former leader for Intelligence always called us sanitation workers and honestly as much as I hate him, he was correct. If even half the time we spend picking up after what our overlords break was spent actually fighting the enemy, there wouldn't be a war any more."

The Republic and the Jedi would have been gone long ago if those particular inefficiencies were sorted out.

If Jadus had stuck around to actually go against the Emperor too then maybe Nine wouldn't have been worked into the ground the way he was. And if his dear brother could be convinced to come out of the latest tomb he had decided to fall into to tend to the war rather than the recovery of history that'd still be there later.

"I am. I can stay for about a month."

No longer than that but a month at Hancock's side sounded like heaven.

Rather than sit across from the ghoul, he took advantage of the booth he'd seated them up to sit at his side— laying his head against his shoulder. He had missed this. And maybe he wanted to stay close to continue to beat it into his own skull that the other man was okay. As warm and as alive as he had hoped.

"How have things been on your end?"

That was way more important than continuing to whine about the state of the war.

"Did you end up talking to that friend of yours about hooking up?"

Nine did still remember what they'd talked about last time. Because he had written it down to remind himself. His memory being what it was he didn't want to forget even the smallest thing that was important to Hancock so he had his notes to help him. And he wanted to know whether or not he had been happy.

[feralnow]

"A month, eh?" A month, and then he would have to go away again, and be gone for God knew how long. It could be months, or even another year, before they saw each other again. "Then we'll just have to make this the best month ever."

Hancock intended to savor every day of that month, wanting to enjoy Nine's company while he still could.

"Oh, right, Nick. Yeah, I asked him. I think I caught him off guard, but he said he'd be open to it. Turns out he's not what you'd call anatomically correct." Hancock figured as much, since Nick's body was more like that of a generation 1 synth. "Mostly it was just him doing hand stuff."

[stabgremlin]

Nine wanted to say that he wanted to stay. Like he had said back during that storm. But they both knew he couldn't. So he chose to say nothing— he did want to stay. Wanted to only let a few people know where he actually was and fake his death and just stay on Earth with Hancock forever.

Earth was dangerous but the conflicts were manageable. And he thought that he might be able to live a pretty good life at the ghoul's side.

"I'm glad that worked out for you."

He really was. Nine had a few friends he would love to proposition too but he was too much of a coward to risk a no. Nothing like Hancock. Nine actually would be heartbroken and find his way to the bottom of a glass if he got rejected by someone he actually cared about.

"... Have you been happy?"

That was a very important question to ask.

[feralnow]

"As happy as one can be, with the kind of life I lead." Running a town, having to be the bad guy when it called for it, while also not wanting to be a tyrant or dictator. "Drugs can only make you happy for so long, before the high wears off."

Call it an artificial or fake happiness, Hancock would argue that mentats produced fake intelligence when taken by that logic.

"Thinking about you made me happy, even if it reminded me of how much I missed you. You honestly make me feel better than I have in a long time."