Hancock Fic

Hancock wasn't good and he wasn't nice. In fact, he wasn't sure he could say he even knew what those words even meant before he met Ray. Ray was good and he was nice. He loved his son. He volunteered for charities. Fuck, Hancock even saw him helping a little old lady across the street once. And it wasn't just that he did good things. He was also so painfully earnest about everything he did, whether it was coaching or telling Hancock just why he to be kind to all children, even the bitchy fat ones who had it coming, annoying little shits. He was endlessly patient and endlessly good. Hancock was kind of in awe of it.

Maybe he even loved him for it.

Fuck it, he did love him for it, perhaps even as much as he loved Mary, this beautiful, sometimes infuriating woman who such power over him. He understood her, understood why she decided to try and become a housewife and mother, of all things, just to live closer to this amazing human, this amazing mortal creature. So, yeah, he loved Ray. But it was because he couldn't not love him.

Unfortunately for Ray, being the beloved of a superhero, whether you were aware of it or not, did come with some drawbacks. Which was why he was currently bound and gagged in the trunk of a very dead dude's car.

Ray was clearly his favorite. The general public (and Ray) may not realize the depth of his love (fuck) for this small human, but his preferences were clear.

The dead dude was currently speeding down the deserted highway as if he could possibly go fast enough to escape a pissed off superhero. Moron. Hancock swooped down and stopped the car, carefully this time, mindful of Ray in the trunk. The dead dude gibbered madly in the front seat, standing on the gas pedal, then opening the door and scrambling out when that did nothing. He ran down the road. Hancock ignored the idiot attempting to outrun a superhero in favor of ripping the lid of the trunk off, dropping it on the side of the road. Ray rolled over and looked at him with wide eyes. One of them had been blackened.

Hancock swore and started to move to rip the dead dude's limbs off, but was stopped by Ray lifting up his bound hands to be untied. Hancock hurriedly tore off the rope that bound Ray's hands and feet and let Ray remove the gag himself.

Ray winced and rubbed his sore wrists.

“You need a hospital?” Hancock asked uncertainly, holding him by the shoulders and looking him over. He would always be amazed by the fragility of the human body and worried endlessly about the million little things that could wrong with Ray's at any one moment. Other than the wrists and black eye, Ray look uninjured, though tired. Hancock wished he had x-ray vision.

Ray shrugged out of his hold, looking embarrassed. Hancock reluctantly let him go.

“I'm fine,” said Ray. He sighed. “Who took me this time?”

“A dead dude,” replied Hancock. Ray was standing on his own so he started off. “I'mma gonna go kill him now.”

“Hancock!”

“Dammit, Ray, let me kill this one!”

“No!”

“Just this once!”

“We are not having this fight again, Hancock!”

“Fine!” snapped Hancock. He stomped back, looked into the trunk, and snatched up the extra rope in there. “I'll be right back. Don't move.”

Peevishly, he flew down the highway, snatched up the kidnapper, summoned all his willpower, and didn't kill him. Instead, he quickly tied the stupid fucker up so tight his wrists would be hurting for weeks, brought him back to a bemused Ray, and tossed him into the trunk. Then he slammed the lid shut so hard they would have to get a welder to free him down at the police station if Hancock didn't condescend to open it for them.

“There. He's alive. Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Ray said dryly. “Now what do we do?”

“Drop the car into the ocean?”

“Hancock...”

Hancock rolled his eyes.

“We take him to the cops,” he recited dutifully. Then he added, “The idiots who let him walk free in the first place.”

Ray sighed again and Hancock rolled his eyes again. Grumbling, he grabbed the car with one hand (giving it a vicious little shake just for kicks – the dude in the trunk shrieked in fear and wet himself), wrapped his other arm around Ray's waist, and took off. Ray gasped and clung to him like a limpet.

“You can't just do that without any warning Hancock,” he complained as they soared through the air.

“Ray!” said Mary. “Are you okay?”

Hancock stopped.

Mary hovered at a safe distance, circling them uncertainly.

“I'm fine,” said Ray, looking over at her, clearly attempting to communicate calm reassurance while clinging to Hancock for dear life.

“He's fine,” snapped Hancock.

“Let me take you home,” said Mary.

“You shouldn't be here,” said Ray.

“Yeah,” said Hancock and she glared at him.

“Give him to me,” she said.

“I can take him home without freaking out the neighbors,” protested Hancock.

“I can take him home now ,” said Mary. “You still have to go downtown and deal with those idiots in blue.”

They glared at each other.

“Hancock is right,” Ray said, interrupting their glaring marathon. “I'll have to give a statement anyway, so I'll just meet you at home. Where's Aaron?”

“Still at his grandma's. He doesn't know.”

“Good. I'll meet you at home in just a little while. Be careful on your way back. Watch for birds and nosy neighbors.”

She relented with one last grudging look at Hancock.

“Fine,” she said. “I love you.”

He grinned at her. His smile was the most amazing thing Hancock had ever seen. “I love you too. See you in a bit.”

Hancock tightened his hold on Ray and took off without a goodbye. If he went a little faster than usual so Ray would cling to him even tighter, well, who the fuck would know?