Disclaimer: I don't own Fallout 4, and I'm not making any profit from writing this drabble. I do not own Rufus Wainwright's song "Hallelujah"—the stanza epigraphed at the beginning of the drabble is why I include this bit with the rest of the disclaimer. Still not making profit either way…

Warnings/Notes/Rating: Character death. Hancock/Female Sole survivor (Nora) pairing. Tragedy and angst. This is sad…but I like it anyway. Hancock's viewpoint. I'll go ahead and rate this T. And you have Saku again to thank for me broadening my horizons again and writing for yet another fandom. I like what I've played of Fallout 4 and have read some pretty amazing fics in the fandom…but I have yet to offer something of my own writing for it. Until now.

Saku's Drabble Wars Prompt: Hancock/(whoever). Rufus Wainwright's song. "Hallelujah." He's had everything ripped away through his entire life. Which is why when it came to love or any emotion of such caliber he was wary.

By Yo; Written 10/15/16; At about 390 words; and Posted to ffdotnet 11/8/16

Maybe there's a god above
And all I ever learned from love
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
And it's not a cry you can hear at night,
It's not somebody who's seen the light
It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah

-Rufus Wainwright, "Hallelujah"

Hancock just knew tonight was going to be bad. Before he and Nora had ever left Goodneighbor a few hours ago, a sick feeling had overwhelmed his gut…the feeling that had served him well for all the countless years he'd spent in the dangers of the Commonwealth…a feeling he never ignored…a feeling that had saved his life from impending death time and time again. It figured that the one time the ghoul chose to ignore the warning in his gut was the one time he'd lose something so precious. And at the hands of dinky, weak raiders no less (raiders that he massacred for what they did).

"Hey, Nora, it's going to be okay. Hang on. Don't let go. Stay with me," Hancock was barely aware of the litany that poured from his mouth, his arms unconsciously tightening more and more around the vault dweller in his arms.

Her beautiful eyes were going hazy as she tried to keep them open and focused on him, her skin growing paler and cooler as the minutes dragged on. Hancock wanted to cry, but he was denied that being a ghoul (1). His eyes glanced down yet again at the blood blossoming from the wound in her chest…so fatally close to her heart.

He didn't know where the stimpacks were in her backpack…and he tried desperately to find them…ripping everything out of the pack. Were they out? Was this whole thing his fault? Why couldn't he reach her faster? Why did she have to die? Why, when he finally found love, why did he have to lose it?

"John…love…you…" Nora murmured, reaching up with the last of her strength, to cup the rough skin of his cheek.

"Love you, too, but you ain't goin' anywhere, doll. You're stayin' right here with me," John whispered, his raspy voice breaking.

He brought up his own hand to cover the one she held against his cheek.

"John…let go…" Nora said, closing her eyes, and taking her last breath, her hand only staying against Hancock's cheek because he held it there.

"Never," Hancock said with finality, crushing the woman closer to his chest in the tightest embrace he could manage. Never, I'll never let you go.

Hancock stayed in that position on the ground for the longest time, silently weeping…because one can still cry even though no tears fall.


End Note:

(1) I don't know whether or not ghouls can canonically, anatomically, cry.