#Jacob Seed x Female Deputy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

seedsplease · 1 month ago

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The Stowaways

When she’d first sworn to fight Eden’s Gate, Rook had expected her reward would be gratitude, some misguided glory and maybe even a raise. Instead, she got seven years in Jacob's Armory with a band of doomsday cultists and a permanent spot on kitchen duty. And then, on the fourth day, they found the children. Warnings: threats of violence, past violence Word Count: 9.9k AO3

When she’d first sworn to fight Eden’s Gate, Rook had expected her reward would be gratitude, some misguided glory and maybe even a raise.

Instead, she got seven years in a bunker with a band of doomsday cultists and a permanent spot on kitchen duty.

Jacob’s Armory had been built to house many more, but the surprise attack by the Whitetails had taken care of that. If only Rook hadn’t been spotted en route to the rendezvous point by a vengeful Jacob and his - now much smaller - band of remaining Chosen. She flattered herself to think she’d almost lost them when the bombs fell and they’d scrambled their way back to the bunker - Jacob half dragging her behind him.

It had been a mess; fallen men strewn through the corridors and scorch marks and bullet casings littering the floors of every room. Before she’d been shown a bed, Jacob had made her look into the face of every man that she’d had a hand in killing.

“Trained them myself,” he’d said when she’d met his eyes after the final one, “before you and your merry band of Whitetails butchered them. Don’t think that sounds like something ‘heroes’ are supposed to do.”

She’d wanted to throw something at him.

“That might sound really righteous or some shit to you,” she’d said, pointing a finger squarely into his barrelled chest, “but if I made you look down at all the men you’d had a hand in killing, we’d be standing here all through your Collapse.”

In hindsight, maybe antagonizing Jacob Seed wasn’t her wisest choice. Kitchen duty was, however, a unique brand of punishment.

The peggies had been surprisingly clean when dealing with their food, which wasn’t quite what Rook had expected of the bearded men who looked like they bathed every once in a blue moon. Even their fresh food scraps had been added into a composter, presumably for the rooms of growing plants downstairs. The cult really had been prepared, it seemed.

It wasn’t exactly a difficult job, surprisingly. Most of the recipes were basic enough and she didn’t need to do too much for their small group in the bunker. Jacob usually came down and helped too, which she doubted was from the generosity of his heart and more from the suspicion of what she’d do if left unsupervised. To be fair, that wasn’t unfounded; she’d wanted to tip a whole jar of pepper into the stew before Jacob had caught her.

She wasn’t able to resist prodding the bear though.

“Putting a woman in the kitchen?” Rook had asked while chopping beets. “Pretty sexist of you.”

She hadn’t expected him to respond.

“Sexist of me to put you in the one place where you can’t get your hands on a gun?” He’d replied from the stove, where he was peering into the pot and watching it boil merrily away.

She’d sniffed and raised a shoulder in a shrug.

“Yes,” she’d said petulantly, before scrunching her face up at his logic. “So you don’t care that I can get my hands on a kitchen knife, then?”

He’d returned her shrug, giving her a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“I can deal with you and a knife,” he had said and met her gaze as he’d continued, “You won’t do too much damage.”

She’d felt something bristle inside her; offended that he thought her so easily contained.

“Just wait until you see me with the Sunday roast,” was all she had said in reply, however; content to seethe and hold her tongue.

If she had learned anything about Jacob Seed, it was that her best chance of gaining the upper hand would only come with patience. It was easy, in those few evenings in the kitchen after the bombs had dropped, to be resolved into waiting him out in their strange deadlock.

And then, on the fourth day, they found the children.

Rook had been noticing that scraps had been disappearing from the stores; little things at first, just enough to make her assume a soldier had crept down to pinch a little extra when she wasn’t looking. But then it happened during a scheduled training session - because of course, Jacob wanted his men in prime condition - and Rook knew it had to be something else.

That evening, she’d confessed to Jacob that something was amiss. He’d nodded silently, and returned in a matter of minutes with a gun, gesturing that she was to follow him. She held the torch, beaming it into the areas that were less illuminated. There was a strange sense of doubt about the situation building in her stomach, as though she didn’t want to cause too much of a fuss for what might be nothing.

“It could be a rat,” she said, and winced because lord, she hoped it wasn’t a rat. The last thing they needed in such close proximity was a chance of disease.

Jacob hummed thoughtfully from in front of her, though he didn’t look back. They opened the door to one of the storage rooms but he didn’t turn the lights on; instead gesturing that she was to light the way.

“Have you ever seen a cornered animal, Deputy?” He asked, but it wasn’t really a question. She gave a small hum - neither confirming nor denying - and he continued. “When you see a creature that knows nothing but the fact that it’s going to die, then you see an animal that will try anything to get away.” He led her further into the dark room. “And those animals, if left unchecked, can stow themselves away in the strangest of places.”

Rook stiffened, beginning to understand what Jacob suspected. She lowered her flashlight slightly, illuminating the path through the stacked crates and supplies.

Towards the back of the room, they found an opened box. Rook’s heart sank, and she stole a glance towards Jacob’s face; trying to figure out what his intentions were. Whatever stowaway they discovered, Jacob’s unreadable expression told her little about their fate.

They heard a shuffle, and like a hound to the scent, Jacob’s eyes snapped towards the sound. It was coming from one of the nearby closets, and Rook felt a stab of pity as she saw the hint of movement between the deliberately cracked-open door.

Jacob stepped closer to the closet, silently gesturing for Rook to open it. She sighed to herself but still reached out, grabbing a hold of the door and swinging it open to shine the light on their stowaway.

Neither expected to see the three children packed into the small closet, peering up at them with glassy-wide eyes.

Rook couldn’t move, staring down at her unexpected would-be thieves. They weren’t looking at her, however; their eyes were fully fixated on the very imposing red barrel of Jacob’s gun. He’d frozen too, taking in the sight of the three stowaways.

After a moment, Rook snapped out of it.

“Would you put that down?” She hissed, slapping at his shoulder. “They’re terrified.”

Perhaps she should have been surprised at how quickly Jacob obeyed. Or that he obeyed at all.

He inhaled sharply, and brought a hand up to rub at the side of his jaw; fingers tense and clawing.

“How’d you get in here?” He asked, voice firm.

The eldest child - a boy of about thirteen, she guessed - tightened his arms around his toddler brother, who was clutching at his smoke-stained shirt.

“The door was open,” he replied, still staring at the gun warily.

“We didn’t know it was your home,” the third child, a girl of about eight, piped up from the other side of the closet.

“We...We can leave,” the eldest insisted, eyes flicking between Rook and Jacob shakily. “We can go.”

Rook opened her mouth to protest, but Jacob beat her to it.

“Nobody’s going anywhere,” he said lowly, and Rook had to wonder whether he realised how intimidating he sounded.

She knelt down, still maintaining her distance so as to not spook them.

“What he means ,” she began, giving a slightly reprimanding side-eye to the man beside her, “is that you don’t need to go anywhere. Right, Jacob?"

She didn't expect the silence. In retrospect, she realised that she was placing a foolish amount of trust in a cultist. Perhaps some part of her hoped that even a man who had done horrible things would stop short of harming a child right now, at least.

"Jacob Seed, don't you even think about it."

He flinched and seemed visibly angered by what she was hinting at.

"I was thinking about where they're gonna sleep, Deputy," Jacob growled. “What do you think I’d do to some fucking kids?”

Rook thought of multiple stories she’d heard of what Jacob’s men did to the innocent people of the mountains - the history of Jess was forefront in her mind - but she held her tongue, casting a quick look to the children still huddled in their cupboard. If they were staying, then she didn’t want to scare them.

“Mind your language,” was all she said, and there was little heart in it.

There was something raging in his eyes, and it looked for a moment as though he wanted to press the issue. Instead, he only inhaled deeply and a coldness fell over his face; steeling his expression.

She looked away from him, and returned her gaze to the children in front of her. Rook gave a smile, but she doubted it entirely reached her eyes.

“Everything’s going to be okay,” she said, resisting the urge to try and reach for the shivering group. “Why don’t you come upstairs? There’s some fresh food, some nice and warm beds.”

The eldest child stared at her, some hint of suspicion and protectiveness in his eyes, but she watched as he seemed to notice the patch on her shirt.

“You’re a policeman?” He asked, frowning.

Rook blinked, and then remembered that her shirt still bore the sewed police insignia, sun-faded as it was.

“I am,” she replied, and reached up to brush at the edge of the patch with her thumb.

The boy glanced between her and the eldest Seed, still standing imposingly behind her.

“And...is it safe?” He asked quietly, as though Jacob wouldn’t hear.

She heard the real question, and hesitated for a brief moment, following the trail to quickly meet Jacob’s eyes.

“Yeah,” Rook answered, and something told her she wasn’t wrong in this, at least for now. “Yeah, he’s fine.”

Dinner was much more lively than she was used to.

Jacob would usually eat with her after he’d taken the servings up to the other Chosen - for some reason, he’d seemed to prefer her quiet company. There was no quiet companionship in the kitchen this evening; the three children were seated at the table and wolfing down their dinner with the ferocity of the half-starved.

Jacob and Rook were seated opposite them, barely touching their own servings. At one point, Jacob set down his spoon.

“Go slowly,” he told them, voice quiet but firm. “If you haven’t eaten, you need to take it slow.”

The three children cast dubious looks at him, but after a nod from Rook, they heeded his advice and ate with smaller, more controlled bites.

The eldest boy was called Will, they soon learned. The girl - the middle child, Rook remembered - eagerly began to speak once she was finished, and she told them how they’d come to be in the bunker at all.

“Aunt Patty hadn’t come back for weeks, and the delivery man stopped bringing food, so Will said we should try and go to the gas station,” the girl explained from little prompting. “He wanted to drive us with Aunt Patty’s old car out the back, but it wouldn’t work.”

“Probably for the best,” Rook commented, raising an eyebrow at the eldest boy. “Something tells me you’re not old enough to drive.”

The boy glanced up at her from over his meal.

“I’m nearly old enough,” he replied, somewhat petulantly.

Jacob Seed very deliberately kept his mouth shut during the exchange, and Rook had a suspicion that he too hadn’t waited for the right age to start driving.

“We didn’t get far, anyway,” Will shrugged, staring down at his bowl. “They dropped those bombs and we had to start running.” He briefly stared at the steel roof. “Found this place with the door wide open, so...We didn’t think anyone was home.”

Rook realised they must have slipped in not long after the Whitetail’s attack, when Jacob had left the bunker unattended to lead his merry men on the hunt after her. She winced as she thought about the bodies, the blood and mess that the children would have seen on their entrance.

“We’re just glad you’re safe,” Rook replied instead of dwelling on her thoughts, looking at the three of them. “You’re going to be fine here.”

Beside her, Jacob nodded his silent agreement.

Will glanced between the two of them and then lowered his spoon.

“I’m Will,” he said, despite them already knowing. He gestured to his toddler brother and sister at his side. “This is Luke and Penny.”

“Penelope ,” the girl corrected, sending her brother a miffed glare.

He held his hands up in a surrendering gesture.

“Right,” Will said, nodding, “Sorry. Penelope.”

The girl smiled, pleased at her much more professional-sounding name.

“It’s nice to meet you three,” Rook said with a warm smile, before leaning back and gesturing to herself and the eldest Seed. “I’m Rook, and this is Jacob.”

Jacob nodded along with her introduction, but was quickly forgotten as Penelope eagerly started to talk to Rook about her ‘strange name’ and Luke resumed happily gargling his water and piecing at his food.

But Jacob didn’t miss the suspicious glare that Will continued to send his way throughout the evening. He raised an eyebrow at the young boy - challenging, perhaps - but the stowaway only flushed and glanced away; embarrassed at having been caught out.

When dinner was finished, Rook and Jacob gathered the dishes and made their way to the sink.

“So, where’ll they sleep?” She asked him as she scrubbed one of the plates. “Do you even have any more proper rooms?” She’d been supervised and escorted to and from very select locations during her time in the bunker, and so she didn’t have much of an idea about the layout of the Armory.

He took the dripping plate from her hands and wiped it over with a dishtowel.

“Seeing as you wiped out most of my bunker’s population, yeah; they’ll have a room.”

Rook had the good graces to not provoke him further.

Their new herd exited the kitchen.

Penelope skipped slightly to fall into stride with Rook and leaned over to grab at one of her hands. She seemed to be a cheerful girl, barely touched by the horrors of what she’d seen - or perhaps it simply hadn’t yet registered. She was talkative, with the interest of adolescence of everything in the world around them, and was pleased to have someone else - a proper adult - to pepper with endless questions.

Rook didn’t mind too much; after she’d joined the station, Staci had been glad to relinquish his ‘dealing with kids’ designation to her with relief - while children seemed to like him, he felt exhausted by them after minutes. Rook was relatively good at keeping them distracted and occupied. She was, however, a little concerned at the prospect of having three kids in the bunker with endless weapons, armed soldiers, and a very dangerous lieutenant at their helm.

At the least, she’d start by getting them to sleep. They were evidently exhausted; weeks of having to hide away in the back of a storage room and surviving on scraps had taken its toll.

“Have you lived here long?” Penelope asked her, sudden curiosity overcoming her tiredness. “Why are you living here?”

Rook blinked in surprise but clutched the girl’s hand tightly in response.

“I’m here for the same reason you are; to get away from the bombs,” she replied, deliberately leaving out the part where Jacob Seed had dragged her down with him against her will. She’d have rathered rush back to the Wolf’s Den; there, at least, she would have been in friendly company.

Penelope frowned at her answer.

“But this is a really big place,” she pressed on, peering up at the woman. “Did you build it?”

Rook gave a small laugh.

“No,” she replied, and then frowned slightly as she remembered some of Eli’s offhand comments about his time interacting with Eden’s Gate. “But I think my friend might’ve had a hand in it.”

“Your friend?” Penelope repeated, and pointed towards Jacob, who was walking in front of them at the lead. “Him?”

Rook snorted.

“No, not him,” she said, grinning at the absurdity of the thought, before she paused and thought on Eli’s words. “Though, actually, he might’ve helped too.” She struggled to picture Jacob Seed in work overalls and a wrench in his hands, not like she could easily imagine Eli. “My friend, Eli, has his own place like this. His own bunker.”

In front of them, she saw Jacob stiffen at the mention of Eli. Rook didn’t have to see his expression to know that he was listening in on their conversation; maybe trying to hear if she would let something drop. She wasn’t sure why; there was no point in waging a war against the Whitetails anymore when nobody could even leave the bunker.

“Did your friend build that one too?” Penelope asked, wide-eyed. “His bunker, I mean.”

“Pretty sure he did,” Rook replied. “With help from his friends, of course.”

“Friends like him?” Penelope pointed again towards Jacob. “Did he help with that one, too?”

Rook smiled thinly as she glanced over at the soldier.

“No,” she said, loud enough to be overheard and make it clear she wanted it so. “No, he definitely didn’t help.”

Jacob didn’t look back at her, but she could sense his irritation. Not that he would show it in front of the children. He’d wait until later, no doubt.

Beside her, Penelope was frowning. She tugged at Rook’s hand and gestured for her to lean down slightly so her words wouldn’t be heard.

“I think that’s rude,” the girl whispered, giving a frown as she looked ahead at the man. “He should’ve helped build your friend’s house too.”

Rook squeezed her hand, but before she could say anything, Jacob spoke up in front of them.

“Alright, we’re here.”

She counted three separate rooms in this section of the bunker - each intended for a cluster of now-dead cultists, no doubt - but Jacob only led them into the one. The bunk beds were still drawn together in the center of the room; blankets strewn across the mattresses for some surprisingly permitted comfort.

Will led his younger brother towards them, keeping a steady eye on Jacob while he went. Rook gestured for Penelope to follow his lead, and when the children were all safely out of earshot, she sidled up next to Jacob.

“You’re not giving them their own rooms?” She asked, raising an eyebrow. “There are enough.”

He hummed, arms crossed as he watched the children test out their new beds.

“The eldest,” he said, nodding towards the boy in question. “He’s not gonna let them out of his sight.” There was a wry quirk to his lips. “I remember what that was like.”

Rook had read Joseph’s book one night in morbid curiosity; she had enough of an idea about what Jacob was referring to. She followed his gaze, and noticed the oldest boy was still sending furtive glances their way, particularly focused on Jacob.

“He doesn’t like you much, does he?” She murmured, and shrugged. “Can’t imagine why not; you’ve just got such a winning personality.”

He barely reacted to her jab, and instead turned around to leave.

“Tuck them in,” he ordered, ignoring her words.

Rook frowned in confusion, about to protest that he was leaving her alone with all the work, but then sighed, figuring it wasn’t worth the fight. Not when the children were around. Besides, being a glorified prisoner ensured she probably had the least work to do of anyone else in the bunker.

Well, until now.

He was almost at the door when Penelope spoke up, having spied him walking away.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” She asked, kneeling on her mattress. She’d scurried her way up to the top bunk of one set of beds, content to claim her high perch.

Rook watched Jacob turn around.

“Got some things to do,” he replied, gently in his own, strange way. “I’ll be at the end of the corridor… and she’ll be right next door.”

Rook raised her eyebrows, pointing to her own chest.

“She will?” She asked; the arrangement news to her.

He gave her a thin smile.

“She will be now.”

The first challenge came when Luke wanted to sleep on a top bunk like Penelope. He was five, it turned out, and Will was blanching at the thought of letting the youngest sleep on such a high bunk without safety rails. Rook privately suspected that he was also leery of Penelope being on the top as well.

Unfortunately, when Will refused to let the youngest go up, the tears began.

“Luke, you can’t .” Penelope peered down at him, leaning a bit too close to the edge that made Rook take a step closer to her, just in case. “You’re too little!”

This, however, only made Luke cry harder. Will, who was exhausted and on his last legs, just groaned.

“Penny, just come down and sleep on a lower bunk too,” he tried to order, but it came out more like begging. “We’ll all sleep on the bottom ones, okay?”

This was the wrong thing to say.

“No! That’s not fair!” Penelope whined, small hands clenched into the mattress sheet. “I’m old enough, it’s not fair!” Her voice was threatening to rise to a screech.

Rook, sensing a long, drawn-out explosion that could rival the Collapse outside, had to step in.

“Okay, so here’s what we’re going to do!” She clapped her hands together and adopted a no-nonsense tone, sounding alarmingly like the Sheriff. “We’re going clear some space in the middle of the room, and then we’re going to bring down a few of these mattresses and make one big bed from them, okay?”

There was a brief threat of the argument immediately resuming, but Will was at his wit’s end and raised his own voice.

“Stop it, you two!” He snapped, and the shocked silence from the siblings made Rook know this was an unusual occurrence. The teen gave a ‘tsk’ sound and rubbed at his forehead. “Just…do as she says so we can all get some sleep.”

Penelope came climbing down obediently, though still with flushed cheeks, and Luke stood where he was, hiccuping the aftermath of his tantrum. Together, Rook helped Will gather six mattresses in total, stacking three on top of three for extra comfort on the ground, and Penelope gathered a generous amount of pillows. Their makeshift bed was centered in the room, but the bunk bed’s empty stands gave a strange spacial sense of enclosure that was comfortable.

In her head, Rook thought a few blankets could help make a proper hideaway out of the arrangement, though she decided that could wait for another day. The kids were barely standing, and Luke looked near to another tantrum that she assumed would be diabolical.

“Alright.” She brushed her hands together and straightened up. “You’re all set. We’ll see what we can do tomorrow to fix everything up a bit nicer, but for now you’re all good to get some sleep.”

Will nodded at her, gratitude in his eyes despite his wariness that had yet to abate. Rook hummed and turned towards the door.

“You heard the grump before; I’ll be right next door if you need anything,” she said in farewell, though privately noted she wasn’t sure which next door that would be yet, considering this had been sprung on her too.

“Why can’t you stay here?” Penelope said, and like Jacob before her, Rook turned back around to see the girl perched on her knees on her mattress, looking up with a frown.

Will sighed.

“Penny, she has her own room,” he explained quietly. “She’ll be just next door. She’s not going away.”

Penelope sucked in a loud breath and shook her head back and forth but said nothing, even as her face was scrunched up. Rook felt a stab of pity; she realised now that the girl surely had some understanding of what her situation was - what it had been for the past few weeks - and everything surely just kept feeling unfair to her.

Rook turned back around and took a few steps towards one of the surrounding bunk bed stands that still had a mattress on the lower level.

“How about I stay here until you go to sleep?” She offered, to placate both Penelope’s wish for her company, and Will’s protectiveness over his siblings. “I’ll just sit here and stay with you.”

The teen hesitated, but nodded his consent. Penelope was still a little bit put out, but ultimately gave in too; the lure of sleep making her far more agreeable, no doubt.

As the three scrambled into bed, Rook made a note to find them a spare change of clothes for the next day. Jacob probably wouldn’t have children’s sizes, but she was sure they could scrounge something doable.

“Good night!” Penelope piped up, slurring the words slightly as she dug under the blankets next to Luke.

Rook smiled warmly in return as she dimmed the lights in the room, leaving the small lanterns by the bunk beds as soft lights for them while they slept.

“Good night,” she replied gently, letting them drift off.

Will had laid on the right, with Luke tucked in the middle between him and Penelope. It barely took a few minutes before they were dozing off. But just when she thought they were all asleep, Will slowly sat up, letting his blanket fall down to pool around his lap as he stared up at Rook.

With the other children no longer listening, his eyes were narrowed and suspicious. Rook raised an eyebrow at him, and tilted her head expectantly.

“You don’t like him,” Will quietly said, an accusing tone to his voice.

Rook frowned, before realising who he was talking about.

“Jacob?” She asked, nodding vaguely towards the corridor outside the room. “The grumpy one?”

Her attempt at humour fell flat, as the boy continued to stare suspiciously at her.

“Did you lie to us?” Will asked, fingers clenching to a fist against his blanket. His voice hardened. “Is he going to hurt us?”

She grimaced, but certainly couldn’t fault him for being worried; even she wasn’t entirely certain what the answer was. Jess’ story had at least demonstrated that, while not necessarily done by Jacob himself, subordinates of his had brutally tortured children, and she doubted that the Cook’s antics were so hidden. Though, she acknowledged that she didn’t know of any child who had specifically been killed by Jacob - if she remembered correctly, they were to be sent to John’s bunker rather than killed - but she quietly doubted that every single member of the cult were so disciplined as to stick entirely to commands.

When bloodthirsty soldiers have been trained to view others as disposable meat, it would come as no surprise to learn that they hadn’t always shown restraint.

However, she had a slight suspicion that Jacob intended for children to at least survive.

“Hurt you?” She repeated, and gave a shake of her head. “I… don’t think so.”

A stiffness in his shoulders seemed to loosen slightly, showing the boy may have trusted her answer. Will’s expression turned odd, staring over at her with his head tilted downwards; hesitant. He was quiet for a moment, before he softly spoke.

“Is he going to hurt you ?”

Her eyes widened at the question, taken aback that he would be thinking of her. Evidently, she’d underestimated him; he had clearly been a lot more attentive than she’d first thought to realise that there was no love lost between her and Jacob, and that, furthermore, she was at his mercy. She took longer to reply this time; knowing now that the teen would likely see through any placating lie.

“Who knows?” She answered evasively, and found that she was again not completely sure of the answer. Jacob had, after all, defied all of her expectations when she’d been brought back to the bunker. “He doesn’t like me that much, but he’s left me mostly alone. Though, if we run out of supplies, I’ll be the first to go.”

The boy didn’t seem to be entirely reassured, and he fidgeted with his blanket while looking away from her.

“Who are you really?” He asked quietly, less suspicious now. “And…why are you here?”

She understood the real question he was asking; he likely had a lot of confusion about her and Jacob’s relationship. Especially since she obviously was in a dubious position.

“I’m just Rook,” she said again, despite him knowing her name already. She shrugged, and tried to choose her words delicately. “I’m a junior deputy. I was… brought here after I tried to help the Whitetail militia fight against…well, that guy out there.”

Will frowned, something in her words evidently sparking recognition in him. Privately, she was glad that meant he was distracted from the suggestion that she was kidnapped here.

“The Whitetails,” he said slowly, brow furrowed. “Like Mr Palmer?”

Her eyebrows rose.

“You know Eli?” She asked, pleasantly surprised but perhaps she shouldn’t have been; despite his prepper antics, Eli was rather personable to those in the area.

“Our dad did,” Will replied, a distant memory coming over his face. Rook felt a stab of sympathy; of his family, he was likely the only one who remembered much of their father. He cleared his throat, but quietly so as to not wake the others. “He died a few years ago. But Mr Palmer taught me how to use a bow before that…well, a bit.”

His cheeks flushed red, and he adamantly looked away from her to hide it.

She huffed a smile.

“Yeah, that sounds like Eli,” Rook murmured; he’d always had a soft spot for kids, and he was damn good with them too. Something occurred to her and she looked up at Will with a bit more intensity. “Hey, uh, probably not a good idea to mention Eli to the guy out there.” She jerked her thumb towards the corridor.

The boy’s eyes narrowed once more.

“He doesn’t like Mr Palmer?” He asked, the suspicion back in his voice, and she realised that this was probably a better judgement to him of Jacob moreso than anything she could have said.

Rook snorted, feeling no remorse as she told the boy the truth.

“No… he really doesn’t.”

Later, when all the children had finally shut their eyes, she slunk out of the room.

It was her first time totally unsupervised in the bunker; with no nearby guard having their ears trained on her for the slightest noise. She peered down each end of the corridor carefully, still somewhat dim despite the lights on either side of the bunker walls. The natural clicks and rattles of the steel were unnerving in the quiet, and ominous, somehow giving her the sense that there were still eyes on her.

Rook scowled and she straightened up; head tall and proud as she confidently walked straight past the next room’s door. Jacob had stopped short of giving her a command before he’d left the children in her hands, but the implication had been there in his words; she was to go to the next room only. It was still an attempt to limit her freedom, of course.

Maybe she would pay for it later, but so long as there was a line she was expected to toe, she would always seek to push against it.

She found Jacob at the room at the end of the corridor, sitting at a desk. It was a study of some sorts, it seemed; paperwork, reports, flashing screens and radios all around him. One of those screens, she noted with a flush, had been broadcasting a camera from the outside corridor.

“Don’t think I said you could come here,” he said softly, not even bothering to face her fully as he read through a sheet of paper. His rifle was placed behind him on a stack of boxes, the obnoxious red like a neon sign despite the business of the room.

“You didn’t say I couldn’t either.” She flashed him a winning smile, before sobering up and levelling a stare at him that he didn’t return. “The kids are asleep.”

He hummed in acknowledgment, still skimming the report in his hands.

“Don’t be surprised if they sleep through tomorrow,” Jacob said, still not looking at her. Something about that irked her; his nonchalance showed he viewed her as such a minimal threat, barely worth supervision.

Her face wrinkled into a frown, but she pushed down her irritation.

“Won’t that be bad for their ‘bunker routine?’” She asked with only the slightest drawl. The day after the bombs had dropped, Jacob had near dragged her from her bed despite her fitful sleep and insisted that she follow a proper routine.

It was, as he’d said, the best thing for the mind to stick to a proper schedule when there was no light or weather routine to follow. Apparently, it was to help preserve sanity. Privately, she thought there wasn’t much sanity in a group of cultists to preserve.

“They can have a day.” Oh, he was feeling gracious, it seemed.

She didn’t say anything, only staring at the screens around her; dull blue lights almost jarring to look at and the static giving the slightest hum that somehow felt heavy and almost tangible against her skin. The cameras featured various locations throughout the bunker, places she only had the vaguest memory of from the day of the attack. The occasional Peggie strolled through a hallway or guarded a door, but the majority of them were located now in the few dormitories in the level above them.

Privately, she was glad that they weren’t close to the children.

Jacob gave a small, contemplative sigh and leaned back in his chair, relaxing into the backrest. He slowly tilted his head to finally peer over at her, but something about the movement was too calculated to be casual.

“Since you’re here,” he murmured, reaching over to grab a handheld radio - which she suddenly realised was the one he’d confiscated from her - and pushed it along the table towards her.

She stared down at it, a frown pulling at her brow, before she glanced up at him in confusion.

“Take it,” he said, nodding down towards the radio. She didn’t move and he raised his eyebrows, a tone entering his voice that one would use to coax an animal. “Go on; pick it up. Call them.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Them?” Rook asked, playing dumb.

His expression told her that he didn’t buy her act for a moment, but he indulged her in all his generosity.

“Your little Whitetail friends.” He paused for a moment - and she suspected it was more for dramatic effect - before he leaned forward slightly to whisper conspiratorially: “ Eli .”

He settled back against the chair again, elbows leaning on the armrests and hands coming to clasp loosely just above his lap. He still watched her carefully; no amount of performed nonchalance could hide the shrewdness in his eyes whenever she was around, a lion languidly watching a meal it knew could bite.

“Why?” Rook asked, eyes narrowing at him again as she tried to discern his thoughts.

Surprisingly, he gave her the answer willingly.

“I know Eli; he won’t stop looking for you,” Jacob replied, remarkably light despite talking about his greatest enemy. “No man left behind,” he said with a sarcastic lilt to his voice. His eyes sharpened, mirth draining from them as he looked intently at her. “So you’re gonna tell him exactly where you are.”

“What?” She shook her head in confusion. “Why?”

He shrugged, but his expression remained infuriatingly enigmatic.

“Saves me the trouble. Go on; let him know you’re unharmed,” he ordered, and his eyes hardened. “You can even tell him the truth; that you’ve been treated better than you deserved. Or don’t. It doesn’t matter either way.”

She resisted the urge to shiver; she remembered the heaviness of the air around her when Jacob had dragged her back inside the bunker, bombs falling in great rumbles above their heads, and tossed her on the ground among the bodies of the dead - the aftermath of the Whitetail attack.

While he’d waved his remaining men away, he’d knelt to her level and roughly grasped the collar of her shirt. His eyes had been hard - a steel mask for his men to hide any weakness - but she’d sensed the wrath in the very air around him; like calling to like.

“You have been a thorn in this project’s side from the beginning,” he’d murmured, and his free hand had come up to clasp her chin in an iron grip; preventing her from looking away. “And if my brothers have been hurt because of anything you have done…”

He’d trailed off, but the intensity in his face did not fade, even as he’d released her chin and slowly began to straighten back up. His eyes never broke away from her, staring down at her as she’d laid sprawled on the ground, buried deep in a bunker with no escape and surrounded by enemies both alive and dead.

She had never felt so small in her life.

He was simmered now perhaps but the tinder remained. He had never stopped being dangerous, and though he had yet to bite, the point of his blade remained trained on her - the glaring threat in his domain that he had deigned to keep.

“Eli will know what he’s risking if he comes after us,” Jacob softly told her, his tone belying the threat in his words. “No man left behind’ counts for you, too.”

It was a shock to her in that moment to truly feel the weight of her situation once more; for the famed deputy who had wrecked carnage across the county, to be the one in need of rescue felt foreign. Her friends had certainly aided her in the past, but she had never thought to be in a place where she felt incapable of burning her way to safety.

She gave a scoff to conceal her thoughts, and rather than address that mess, she snatched up the radio and brought it to her mouth.

“This is Deputy Rook,” she announced into the radio, proud that her voice didn’t waver. “This is Deputy Rook calling the Wolf’s Den…Is anyone out there?”

The horrible thought suddenly occurred to her that it was very possible that the Whitetails hadn’t made it back in time. That they were still out there somewhere; bodies burnt and buried beneath the ashes of the bombs. It wasn’t something she had ever wanted to consider - it hadn’t even crossed her mind, since she trusted Eli’s dedication to keeping his people alive - but realistically, there was a decent amount of ground to cover between the bunker and the Wolf’s Den.

She gulped; her jaw tightening at the thought and her hand clenched around the radio.

“This is Deputy Rook calling the Wolf’s Den,” she repeated, voice taking on a panicked tone. Her arm holding the radio began to shake and she reached up to hold it still with her other hand.

Watching her from his chair, Jacob hummed softly at the sight of her distress.

“Worried, aren’t you?” He commented, and a flash of something almost smug came across his face, but it was gone in an instant, replaced once more with the slightly enigmatic nonchalance. “You don’t have to be; I’ve heard them already.”

She narrowed her eyes at him, he who had allowed her to work herself into a panic.

“That would’ve been nice to know,” Rook hissed, clutching her radio tightly while willing herself to calm.

His lips twitched but he was gracious enough to not flash her a smile.

“It’s easier to keep you nice and quiet when you think I’m the only hope you’ve got.”

He sounded like he was talking about a wild animal to be tamed, a wildcat to be domesticated in their long burrow, and perhaps it wasn’t too misplaced - the Hope County Cougar badge lay underneath her pillow in her room - but she was rankled nonetheless.

“So you’re saying you aren’t the only hope I’ve got then?” She raised an eyebrow, challenging, and his eyes narrowed, a response of warning.

The crackle of the radio interrupted them both.

“Deputy?” The welcome voice of Eli came through the static.

She whirled to the side, facing away from Jacob and stared down at the radio, eyes wide as saucers.

“Eli!” She said breathlessly, all tension vanishing as Jacob fell out of her thoughts and irritation.

“Holy shit, Dep.” Eli spoke with a disbelieving laugh in his words. “I thought we’d lost you! You’ve no idea how good it is to hear your voice.”

A warmth spread in her chest; she had forgotten what it was to hear such a friendly voice and even though she was still trapped within Jacob’s bunker with the lieutenant himself in arms reach, for a brief moment, she was able to feel a sense of safety. That was always Eli’s effect on others, he protected by building community - whereas Jacob only thought to protect with violence.

“I’m safe,” Rook rushed to reassure her friend, quickly moving on before he could ask for details. “What about the Whitetails? You got back to the Wolf’s Den, I guess?”

He hummed an affirmative noise.

“Most of us, but we lost two on the way.” His voice was grim. “Meyers and Lee. A tree fell right on them; they were gone in seconds.”

Rook’s breath caught at the news; Meyers had proudly showed her photos of his daughter at her first birthday only a month ago, and after a nasty gunshot had knocked Rook out of commission for a week, Lee had spent every day helping her clean and dress the wound.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, knowing that for all her time with the two, Eli had known them years longer. “They were good people.”

Even though she wasn’t looking at him, she could feel Jacob’s eyes piercing against the side of her face.

“Yeah,” Eli agreed, before falling silent for a moment. When he spoke again, there was a strange resignation in his voice. “Where are you, Dep?”

Eli was many things, but he wasn’t foolish.

“I think you know,” Rook replied softly.

She could almost hear his sigh, and she wondered whether Tammy and Wheaty were nearby; she could only imagine how horrified they’d be by the news. Eli, at least, would keep himself grounded for her sake.

“He’s with you right now, isn’t he?” It wasn’t a question.

Rook peered over at Jacob, who was watching her with an unashamedly calm stare; his continued nonchalance doing little to hide that he was clearly listening intently to every word.

“Yeah,” she confirmed, looking straight into Jacob’s eyes.

He merely smiled back at her.

“And are you…okay?” Eli asked hesitantly, almost unwilling to ask the real questions lest he will the worst into existence.

Beside her, Jacob gave a musing hum - the sound more intended to mock than anything else - but said nothing.

“Yeah,” she said again, this time with a grimace at the obvious satisfaction the man next to her was getting from this entire situation.

Oh, how he’d longed to lord her circumstances over his enemy.

“Let me speak to him,” Eli said firmly, voice hard.

Jacob huffed a low laugh, but he didn’t seem to be surprised; she imagined that he’d expected this from the moment he’d allowed her to reach out. If she hadn’t come into the room when she did, she almost wondered if he hadn’t intended to make the call himself.

Meeting her gaze, he raised an eyebrow, generously leaving the ball in her court. She hesitated, fingers clenching slightly around the radio as she deliberated. She knew that Eli would be protective, and there would likely be threats involved. Neither of these options would be to her benefit, and at worst, would provoke Jacob into retaliation.

But she doubted the threat to her person would be lost on Eli. Perhaps she could trust him to keep her wellbeing in mind; he knew Jacob, after all, and would be more familiar than most to know which lines to toe.

With a sigh, she held the radio out to Jacob, her reluctance obvious in her demeanour. It did not go unnoticed by the man, and his expression was amused as he reached out to accept the offered radio. His fingers brushed against hers, calloused skin rough but warm against her palm, and for a moment, she stared down at her hand even as he stepped away.

She had forgotten how long it was since she had been touched by a grown man. She didn’t realise how starved of it she had been.

Rook didn’t have long to ponder on that, however, as Jacob raised the radio to his mouth and announced himself to his nemesis.

“No man left behind,” he almost sang the words into the radio, parroting Eli’s ideology back at him with poorly restrained smugness. His voice was mocking as he continued. “Then where are you now? I thought she was one of yours.”

She felt a stab of anger at the way he spoke as though she couldn’t hear him, but she didn’t bother interrupting him, figuring it would only do more harm than good.

Eli’s reply was swift, and his voice firm.

“You’re goddamn right she is.” His voice had a growl to it, the wolf of the Whitetail’s den. “So am I going to have a reason to come knocking?”

Jacob turned his head to look at her, his eyes low and a small but cold smile pulling at his lips.

“Who knows?” He replied, voice jarringly soft. “Depends on if she behaves herself.”

Rook resisted the urge to shiver; once more, the reminder of what a danger this man truly posed and the fact that she was utterly at his mercy left her chilled.

The wolf of the Whitetails didn’t take the threat quietly, and he bit back with a snarl into the radio.

“Jacob Seed, I swear to god”-

“You want to talk about God, you can talk to Joseph,” Jacob cut him off sharply, before giving a small, satisfied sound. “He was right , after all.”

“Fuck off, Seed,” Eli snapped back, avoiding opening up that particular can of worms. “You leave her the fuck alone, you hear me?”

“Are you really in the position to be making demands?” Jacob asked with a smile on his face, delighting in the power he held over the man he clearly held more of a grudge against than her.

For a moment, Rook allowed herself to be curious about that; given more of an opportunity, she would have been glad to see his entire project go up in flames, but it was still Eli who had earned more of Jacob’s ire. She was not yet bold enough to broach the subject, but she suspected it may have something to do with Eli’s sheer compassion, and how it went against Jacob’s ideology of what a warrior was. Yet Eli remained Jacob’s greatest enemy despite this ‘weakness’ and how it must have galled him.

To feel the power he now held - utilising the very thing he looked down on against Eli - was likely cathartic, to say the least.

Jacob opened his mouth to no doubt sneer something equally baiting at his enemy, but - having allowed him enough satisfaction for one night - Rook reached forward and snatched the radio from out of his hands.

“Okay, that’s enough,” she hissed at him, almost surprised at her boldness. There was a flash of irritation in his eyes, but she met him toe to toe and levelled him with her own glare. Daring him, goading him to try her; feeling every inch the cougar of the Henbane who yearned to repaint her claws red.

For some reason, Jacob stood down, though she certainly doubted it was from fear. He stepped away, unsmiling eyes trained on her as he leaned back against the desk and gestured at her to continue. She angled herself slightly to the side, giving herself even the smallest illusion of privacy, and spoke to reassure her friend.

“Eli, I’m fine. He hasn’t hurt me.” She said, almost exasperatedly. It was more to placate him, even though she knew it was currently true.

Her relationship with Jacob had been turbulent, to say the least, and she was more unnerved by how he hadn’t hurt her since he’d dragged her down into the Armory with such determination and threatened her by the entrance. Finding the children had now introduced another variable into the equation however, and she wasn’t entirely sure that she could predict how he’d react, especially since her judgement of his character had proven to be unreliable.

Evidently, she wasn’t the only one with such a concern.

“Dep, if you need me,” Eli began, voice low as though he were trying to keep their conversation hidden from Jacob, despite knowing it would be futile. “I will find a way to help you.”

The earnesty in his voice gave her a flush of warmth in her chest; she genuinely thought he meant what he was saying, that if she told him she was in serious immediate danger, he would try and walk through an apocalypse to keep her safe. But she, self-sacrificial lamb she was content to remain, would never allow him to do that.

“It’s okay, I really am fine,” she insisted. A thought suddenly occurred to her, spurred on by the conversation she’d had earlier with Will about Eli. “Actually… I have a good reason to stay here anyway now; just earlier tonight, we found some”-

A voice cut her off sharply.

“No.”

Jacob acted quicker than she could register; his hand flashing out to snatch the radio from her hand, quickly pulling it away and out of her reach. She jerked from the surprise, before feeling a flash of anger.

“What? Give that back!” Rook yelled, making a grab for it, but he’d anticipated this and smoothly evaded her. She shook her head and hissed out in indignant anger. “Hey! You said I could talk to him!”

He gave her a steeled glare, eyes cold and warning that he would brook none of her fury in this instance. Holding her gaze firmly, he spoke down into the radio.

“She’s done now.” Jacob said, voice emotionless but final. “If she’s good, I’ll let her have another talk.”

He turned off the radio before Eli could reply.

She sucked a ragged breath, immediately feeling the absence of her friend’s voice; for just one moment since the attack, there had been a strange relief off her back, the sense that she wasn’t alone, and she now felt aggrieved and aggravated that she had been denied it once more.

Still keeping his eyes on her, as one would watch an unpredictable, thrashing beast, he lowered the radio back onto the desk. Her eyes followed it, but she knew it would be a foolish thing to try him now.

Instead, she thought of her only other hope for an ally.

“Where’s Staci?” She asked quietly. It was the first time she had brought this matter up, deeming it too risky in their tentative stalemate to have previously broached the subject. Rook had assumed he was further up in the bunker, but she had certainly noticed the distinct lack of his presence as Jacob’s shadow.

Jacob’s eyebrow rose, the only sign that he hadn’t been expecting her drastic change of subject, and she felt a brief thrill that she had been able to finally return his habit of being unpredictable. He’d likely expected her to either try to wrest the radio back from him, or at the very least, spit and curse at him until she tired herself out.

He leaned back against the desk and crossed his arms, eyes narrowed as he scrutinised her to try and discern what angle she was playing in her unpredictability.

“As far away as he can be from you,” he answered cryptically, before leaning towards her and tilting his head. “Did you think I was going to let you whisper your little treasonous ideas in his ear? Start your little two person mutiny?”

She shrugged. Realistically, she knew that plan would be very unlikely to work; she had seen her colleague the first and only time she had been captured by Jacob, and it did not take long for her to determine that Staci Pratt was currently a very broken man. She could only assume his mental state may have suffered further when the bombs had dropped, but she knew regardless that he would take a very long time to even consider the thought of rebelling properly against Jacob.

But it wouldn’t stop her from trying to at least see him. Like her, he deserved to have a friend in a friendless place. It appeared she would need to bide her time for that, to let Jacob mellow further and be reassured of her ‘good behaviour’ before he would even consider allowing her to get close.

It irked her, but she would blunt her anger with sarcasm.

“With Will, now it could be three person mutiny,” Rook said, snarky and sneering in a drawl to hide her true thoughts.

Jacob did not share in her sarcasm; his eyes narrowed into steel and something very sharp came into his stare. It caused a deep instinct in her to rear up in alarm.

“Could it now?” He asked, soft but incredibly dangerous.

She faltered with a frown, her snark withering away.

“No.” Rook shook her head, voice slightly incredulous that he would even think she would consider it. “He’s just a kid; he’s seen enough violence.”

Jacob seemed placated by this somewhat, eyes softening again into a more unreadable expression.

“He’ll see more,” he replied, slipping back into the reassuring grip of his cynicism. “You think everyone’s going to be friends once we go back out there?” He shook his head, almost amused by the very thought; the man of war who couldn’t fathom the possibility of peace. “There’ll be chaos. And we’ll be ready for it.”

Well, that explained why he was so insistent on training his men despite the lack of enemies. Though she wondered if he realised that so many of the cult’s future enemies would be of their own making. That the very violence he had inflicted in his mission to protect the project would be the machine that created their greatest threats.

This was simply a man who could never lay down his weapon.

“Look at you,” she mused, mouth slightly ajar in a soft gasp of realisation. She just couldn’t resist poking at the bear in front of her. “You’re just always looking for your next war, aren’t you?”

A lesser man may have lashed out at her, and perhaps she wanted him to reveal himself as such; to prove he was indeed the lesser man she had thought him to be. He again denied her satisfaction by not rising to her bait.

“That’s what you’re doing too, isn’t it?” Jacob said softly, peering at her with an eyebrow raised. He wasn’t too impressed with her, but she still got the sense that he wasn’t as angry as she had hoped. “Always trying to bite at me, hoping I’ll bite back. Is that it?” He leaned forward, and there was a very small but almost nasty smile tugging at his lips; the smugness of a man who believed he had her entirely figured out. “Do you want me to snap that badly, Deputy?”

Her eyes narrowed. His unpredictable actions had unnerved her from the start of their cohabitation - and she was starting to suspect that had been his intention all along - and perhaps she was trying to deliberately antagonise him into acting more in line with her expectations. She wanted familiar ground in this uncertainty and his violence was paradoxically safe; she knew how to act in response, she knew how to feel in turn.

Maybe she simply sought to mold him, as he had once sought to mold her.

“Could be fun to make you snap.” Rook was being petulant, she knew, but there was little else open to her when anger would be frustratingly one-sided.

His tension faded, and he leaned back into his more relaxed position; comfortable in his self-assurance that the higher ground remained his.

“Could it?” He said, raising an eyebrow.

Contained as she was, he genuinely seemed to believe there was nothing she would do to anger him into an unrestrained fury. Even in exacting his violence, she had rarely seen him raise his voice. There was a disciplined sort of self-awareness to his wrath - so unlike his younger brother - and perhaps his jarringly soft carnage was even more terrifying than the alternative.

Something must have shown in her expression, because he gave a small huff of laughter and stood back up.

“Go to bed, Deputy,” he said, returning back to his chair.

She frowned, eyebrows wrinkling as the evening was so young.

“It’s not my bed time,” Rook scoffed, placing her hands on her hips and welcoming the change of subject. The words were almost childish, considering she didn’t generally have anything else to do after dinner other than sleep, but it was a matter of principle.

“It is now,” he replied as he sat down and turned his gaze back to his earlier discarded report. “You’re going to be in charge of looking after our new guests, after all.”

She almost wanted to bring up his prediction that the children would sleep through the next day, but she stopped as she privately admitted there was no guarantee, and someone would need to be there for them just in case.

Her pride didn’t allow her to admit that to him, of course.

“Putting the woman in charge of the kids?” Rook said, unable to resist one last snark- she had a daily quota to fulfill, after all. “Pretty sexist of you.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Want one of my men looking after them instead?”

Her smile fell off her face immediately and a chill of ice ran through her.

Jacob noticed, and hummed softly.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.” He turned away from her, back to his report. “Off you go, Deputy.”

This time, she went without a word.

#jacob seed x female deputy #jacob seed #far cry 5 #tw: past violence #tw: threats of violence #my writing

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alexxmason · 2 years ago

Text

Hanged Man || Chapter 17: The Fool And The Devil.

AO3 || Masterlist

Pairing: Jacob Seed x Deputy Teagan Reyes (OC) Summary: The deputy finds herself stuck at the Seed Ranch while a visitor stops by. Word count: 6340+ Warnings: ANGST, blood, violence, knife and gun violence, femidice mention and murder. I am using dialogue used by John from the Collapse DLC. NOT POLYSEED. A/N: I'm posting this since I posted on AO3 and I wanna start moving forward with certain events. A special thank you to my friends for motivating me to confide this! Ignore errors, I got tired of rereading this after 3 times. Enjoy!

“Deputy, I hope you can understand these precautions. You are obviously riddled with rage and bitterness,” John seethed through his cruel grin, “you could probably hurt yourself, my dear.”

The events that transpired at the church played over and over in her breaking mind. It was surreal and unbelievable when she was carted off to the ranch.

Teagan found herself disregarding her reality. This can’t happen to me. This isn’t right. But no matter how hard she cried into the tape bounding her mouth, she still lost. The rough and terrible stinging from the skin tearing on her wrists kept her in this reality as she tried to free herself from the old wheelchair his people fought to tie her in.

It got her a busted cheek and split lip. Distracting her from her pounding head from when she slammed her head into Jacob’s nose. She likely earned herself a bruise.

Even if she was tied, she didn’t stop her fighting. Tuning out the cruel man before her as he carted her through his luxurious home.

A rustic farmhouse with decor out from some magazines. The large stone fireplace only made her hate it more when she saw the absurdity of Joseph's portrait.

It reminded her of when she visited her grandparents, and they’d have images of Jesus and the Virgin Mary displayed in their homes.

“I really wished you’d behave. You caused quite the show during my brother’s sermon. And even now, you still resist.” John only shrugs, uncaring and unfazed, “But don’t you worry your pretty little head. We’ll get you sorted.”

He carted her around like cargo, giving her some fucked up tour, showing her his guest bedrooms on the first level. His reading room, one with maps and some forms of legal documents.

John told Teagan he had to bend the truth on some documents. Forging them more like it. I won’t tell if you won’t, he joked before smacking his lips when she whined still.

Assuming a meal might soothe her, she was moved to his kitchen.

With a roll of his proud blue eyes, he pointed to her bloody wrists, “You’re hurting yourself. My brother will not be happy to see you dinged up.”

When his bony fingers reached the tape at her mouth, John warned her it would be painful, but he apologized for it. Then, he asked if he could make her something to eat; Teagan hesitated but nodded.

It felt like a countdown when John pulled out the ingredients for this meal and put them on the butcher’s block counter. The toaster popping up the slices of bread caused Teagan to jump; the scrape of mayo on the toasted slices was like grinding metal in the deputy’s ear.

John continued to taunt her, “I don’t understand how you want to risk this gift. Joseph justifies your actions, and that is a gift!” She noted how his hand gripped the knife tighter.

The Baptist sounded like her mother.

Magdalena would have Teagan’s hide for her outburst, but she missed her mother then. And hoped she could come looking for her.

Instead of responding, she subtly observed this ranch home for anything to give her a chance.

“But I see your pride. I was unsure what your sin was. You have so many.” John kept in a small laugh, “But trivial, honestly.”

“I’m only human, John.” Teagan snapped. Her hands tensed as she flexed them, “You gonna kill me cause I’m a human being?” With an offended grimace, John shook his head, “We’re getting ahead of ourselves.”

A shaken sigh left Teagan’s lips as he made some shit attempt to appeal to her as he went on, “Sin does make us human, and redemption, atonement, is how we grow. Our project soothes those that wish to grow and have a purpose. You’re not alone. I understand you.”

Trying to calm her emotions and rage, Teagan took deep and shaken breaths as she gritted her teeth while John went on, cutting her sandwich into four squares. Even cutting the crust away, he said, “Such anger. It’s no different than my own.”

Failing to keep the loud and mocking scoff in, Teagan shook her head at her captor. Then, sneering as she watched his hands closely as he gripped the knife tightly once he was done.

“Something funny?”

“You gonna sit there and tell me that we’re two peas in a fucking pod? Kindred spirits? Two sides of the same coin?” Teagan’s voice cracked with every word. Dry and with a slight whine.

She couldn’t contain her bitterness as she glared at the Baptist. Her bloodied wrists were aching as she stared on, “I’m sitting here like a lamb to the slaughter. You’re making a fucking sandwich. We’re not the same.”

John smiled, “I’m making you a sandwich? Because even despite what you think, I’m actually a kind and forgiving man.”

She had heard that before. From John, at her dinner table when he prompted an apology for putting a gun to his face. For Thomas.

God, she prayed she pulled that trigger so many nights. And as she was there, strapped to a chair, in his domain, Teagan should’ve shot him.

A bullet and two, ending him and Jacob for whatever they’ve done.

Jacob. The deputy couldn’t think about Jacob, not then. Not when John was taunting her. Jacob was so cold when he told his baby brother to leave her. No emotion. No empathy or concern.

Like he didn’t care. I knew you weren’t ready, were the words that rang in her pounding skull.

Teagan’s focus gathers when she hears a slight clatter of the knife in the sink and a bag of chips opening.

“I understand these sensations, those of anger and hate. I felt them before, and like you, I have lashed out.”

John went on when before he thought to bring her food, “I have caused pain when that anger boils up, and you just can’t contain it,” John leaned on the counter again and propped his head up on his fist, “Years ago, before this godforsaken town, I knew a young woman. She was… a joy to have around and very generous, but…” Teagan cut the man off, “What? She died?” John nodded, but the deputy went on, “If you’re about to tell me some story about a woman you love being killed, and you went on a revenge kick because of your anger issues…”

“No. I killed her.”

Immediately, the deputy finally shut up. And a cold and sickening wave came over her. Taking the deep color from her freckled face while the bile in her stomach churned.

John only smiled, so apathetic as he said, “It was so long ago, and I rarely think of her now. I just remember we… had a good night. And then it changed. Like a switch, I couldn’t contain this sudden anger. It was… overwhelming me, and then I just,” he made a knocking sound with his tongue and motioned his fist, “A painful memory, but… it brought me here. It brought me my purpose. Closer to the new world.”

It was like John recalled a childhood memory. Nostalgic, if it was true, reminiscing over a time he committed murder.

He could be trying to scare her. And it was working.

“You understand that anger. You’ve felt it.”

No… her rage was different.

Shaken by his confession, Teagan tried to suppress trembling and tried to find the right words to tell him to fuck himself.

Though, not the best course of action, seeing as he mentioned his misdeed with no emotion.

A sickly grin plastered on John’s face. Maybe proud of himself, but it didn’t seem that way. Instead, he let out a deep and soft sigh as if he had just let go of a heavy burden off his shoulders.

Treating such a confession as something so casual yet relieving.

With a terribly smug and proud slight curl of his lips, John pulled a chair from the tiny table in the corner and sat with her. Now, the Baptist was toying with her since she was bound.

A plate of chips and a sandwich in his lap as he sat up straight and smiled happily, “Now, let’s eat.”

Likely meant to feed her himself, another act or whatever to make himself feel like he had power over Teagan. But, at that moment, John did. And he knew it.

Or that’s how the deputy felt. Again, she felt weak and helpless for the first time in months. And again, she only wished to call for someone.

Before John could taunt her, Teagan flinched when he moved his hand to the food, “I want to talk to Jacob.”

John’s disdainful smile dropped to a cold glare, “He’s unavailable. Suffering from a broken nose, I’m told.” His response was firm, “I am all you need right now.”

No, she shook her head. His story and grim nature replayed in her mind. He killed someone for whom he had to have some sort of feelings; what would he do to a woman he found a nuisance?

A dry choke spat out when Teagan tried to keep in a sob, “No, please. I’d like to see Jacob, please.”

The Baptist eyed her, and his curiosity peaked as she tried to beg him. He was amused. Or genuinely curious.

Who’s to say which?

“Why? I think I’ve been accommodating. But I don’t like this any more than you do; I’m stuck babysitting you while I should be helping my brothers with damage control.” His voice raised a bit, but only slightly.

Babysitting? Tormenting more like.

When he caught the confused hint in her dark eyes, he smacked his lips, “Not only must we clean up your outburst, that rat that invaded our home was.. a US marshal. Unfortunately, we knew he had been snooping for some time, but he had help. I know it; I already know it to be two of our brothers. And.. we will find out the truth and get to the bottom of it.” He sighed and closed his eyes before inhaling deeply, “You see, there is nothing we won’t do to protect our people.” John’s deep blue eyes shot up when he exhaled, “anyway, we should eat before my brother joins us. He aims to speak with you.”

Joseph? She winced at the thought.

If Joseph Seed had just killed a federal officer, he would have been insane. All his talk about hearing God and killing a US marshal? But his people only revered him for his actions, or at least how Teagan witnessed them. She was the one that made a scene.

With her knowledge, Teagan was a risk to them, and she now understood. Or what she thought she did, “John, please,”

When she said his name, the fear in her shaken voice and her trembling caught John’s attention as she spoke, “You’ve made your point.”

“What point could that be?”

The question was one she didn’t even understand. What was the point? Was he trying to taunt her into submission? Keep her busy before Joseph did her in like he did the stranger? She didn’t want to think about Jacob. Her only thoughts were survival, and Jacob clearly wouldn’t provide her with that.

The very thought of begging for her life made her sick and flushed. But she could try to appeal to John’s pride. She could live another day.

Some confusion came over him when he leaned back and savored each word of Teagan’s plea, a frantic tone in her voice, “You’re trying to scare me, and it’s working.. I'm not gonna rat,” the very words were sour in her throat as they spilled from her trembling lips, “Joseph doesn’t have to worry about me going to the law. I’m… I’ll fucking leave Montana. Jacob..”

There was a slight pain in her chest when she said his name.

No, she couldn’t think of him, he’s.. Teagan couldn’t even think of it, “It doesn’t matter whatever you say, I understand. But, I’m not gonna risk your.. way of life.” She wanted to throw up.

John smiled. It wasn’t cruel. Or wicked, it was gentle as he said, “You’re still not seeing the bigger picture. But, unfortunately, deputy, you haven’t been paying attention.”

Silence fell over her, and she didn’t even contain a choked down sob when John shrugged as his eyes snapped at her bloodied wrists before telling her, “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

His voice was so calm, assuring even. Or attempting to be, “You aren’t a prisoner. But then again, that is a matter of perspective. And that confession was not to scare you..”

It could’ve been a warning for Teagan to mind herself in John’s presence or that she wasn’t going to walk away. Or maybe he was a true sadist.

It didn’t matter because she didn’t matter to John.

He smiled again, asked what hand she wrote with, and then reminded her to tread carefully, “You are a guest.”

Another warning.

Careful not to spill her food, he brought out the same pocket knife he taunted her with at the church from his belt and leaned to cut her bound feet. Then her left hand, squinting at the scars along her arm and hand.

John sat up and almost dropped the plate, muttering about making a mess.

He hates messes. Teagan was sure of it.

The knife lifted as he said, “you should eat; you’ll need some strength.”

How could Teagan eat with the terrible lump in her dry throat? How could she eat as her stomach churned and soured at the Seed Ranch?

After setting the plate on her own lap, she observed John standing up and walking to the sink. Then, peeking through her curls as she barely sheepishly ate a chip. Then another.

“Once my brother arrives, I’m sure it will be decided to begin your conversion. Then, maybe we can talk about resolving your… issues.”

“I guess we will be two peas in a fucking pod,” he grinned, throwing her words back at her as he went on with the dishes.

She needed to leave now.

Scanning her surroundings, John’s kitchen was so clean and pristine. Something out of a home improvement show with the dark wood backsplash and the butcher’s block counter.

But John’s floors were familiar. With all the anxiety coursing through her, Teagan hadn’t recognized her own floors.

It was the same dark wood planks Jacob had installed in her kitchen.

Something about it might’ve been comforting, but it only made her throat drier as she tried to push the sandwich down her throat.

All she could think of was leaving and what she could do to bail. Watching John meticulously dig his nail in a piece of food on one of the pans he was washing gave her a random idea.

Teagan watched the Baptist closely. Waiting for the right moment to make her attempt. Watching closely as he put each dish on the other side of the sink. Almost a little angry, frustrated, maybe.

Clanking and the tapping of dishes together. The man didn’t even dry them. Instead, it made Teagan more bitter.

The slamming of the dishes was loud enough to give Teagan an idea; when he tossed a dish into the sink after scrubbing it, she tried her best to fake a shaken gasp. And bounced her plate up. High enough to spill it on her lap and into the floor.

Her crustless sandwich and potato chips were on the ground, and when she peeked up, John’s firm gaze was on her.

He quickly looked over the counter that separated them and swore under his breath. Then, insulting the deputy about the mess and lack of manners.

After grabbing a dustpan, the Baptist made his way to Teagan. Glaring and rolled his eyes when she looked away and muttered a small apology.

It took everything for her to keep her anxiety at bay. She had to be quick; she had to act fast.

John was just before her, on his knees and seething under his breath while he swept up the mess.

Her eyes snapped around her environment, and her good hand being bound prevented her from doing much.

Teagan saw the cabinet behind his head and took a deep breath, and let out a shaken exhale, “John,” her voice soft and light. Almost too tender.

She wondered if her tone caught him off guard because when he turned his eyes to her, his smugness, irritated expression disappeared as he peeked up.

Curious about her change in nature. Teagan had his attention.

The woman’s dark eyes glanced behind him at the cabinet. Then, she stammered, “What.. what color is that?”

“I’m sorry?” He said. His lips puffed out in confusion.

“The color of your cabinet.. what color is that?” Teagan repeated the question as she swallowed the tightness in her throat.

Again, John didn’t understand her question and turned his head to look at the color.

Before he could answer her, Teagan kicked at the back of his head and into the counter. His face smashed into the white shade and clearly busted something. A blood spot was already there when he pulled back, blood spilling down to the ground from his mouth.

She could hear him snarl something like a threat.

Teagan doesn’t wait to find out before she begins trashing again, kicking at his hands frantically and terrified before he can stop her.

When a good kick to his jaw stuns John enough to drop back down on all fours, the next hard slam into the pretty white cabinet did the trick. The Baptist’s head bounced back when it hit the wood again, leaving a clearer spot of blood, then the man dropped to the ground. Unconscious and still.

Tears and terrible sobs begin to spill when Teagan realizes he’s out. All her fear and despair came through as she shook terribly and began to undo her remaining bindings.

Wincing through her teeth when she tore the duct tape from her wrist. Her skin burned when she ripped the sore and bloodied skin; immediately, Teagan emerged from the seat, and she almost tripped back when she jumped away from John.

The Baptist was unconscious. His nose busted, probably broken, and his lips bloodied as he lay still. His dark, perfect hair was undone from the deputy’s outburst.

Did I kill him? No, I was defending myself. She pushed the thought out of her mind as she kicked his body gently.

Nothing.

Another kick and nothing. Carefully and still rubbing her aching wrists, Teagan leaned down to press her hand to his back.

The slightest rise of his back, and she could feel him breathing. Teagan let out a sigh of relief; death was the last thing she wanted to be a part of.

A landline on the far corner of the counter caught her eye, and she made her way to it. Teagan reached for the phone but hesitated. She didn’t know why. If she called the police and turned in Joseph and John, she could comprise herself. Jacob… she didn’t want to think about Jacob.

Teagan told John she’d leave Montana; if she left right then, maybe she could escape Eden’s Gate.

Quickly, Teagan began to go through his kitchen cabinets for any type of keys. Keys to a vehicle.

Teagan had noticed trucks when she was dragged inside and hoped she’d find some keys to them.

After a quick few seconds of terrifying searching, pulling draws out, and dumping them on the ground, she found nothing yet. Scared John would wake up, Teagan began to search the living room. She looked through the drawers in his entryway tables and the end tables.

Glaring at all the Project at Eden’s Gate propaganda as her lips trembled while she belittled herself for falling for all these lies. Her past few years were shrouded in lies and careful deception, Teagan had realized that now. And even on her part, living through her rose-colored glasses.

Her mind drifted back when the sound of the front door shook her back to reality, and a heavy step came through when she saw the guest.

A flash of red hair looked down to his muddy boots before he shouted to his brother, “John! What did I say about locking your doors during the day?”

That’s the first thing Jacob says, nothing about Teagan.

The Soldier looked up and locked eyes with the deputy. A monotonous expression across his scarred face, unfazed but with a slight smugness. Even with his heavily bruised and bandaged nose, he sighed, “Ah..” Jacob looked around and to her trembling hands, “John still alive?”

He knew her well enough by now. Teagan’s lips pressed hard before she nodded, “He’s in the kitchen, unconscious.”

As her hands rubbed at the red and bloodied skin on her wrists, Jacob eyed her gesture and stepped toward her. But stopped when she jumped back into the bookshelf behind her.

Still holding a wrist, Teagan pointed a free finger at him and warned him, “You stay away from me.”

Jacob only rolled his eyes, “Teagan,” but before he could attempt to sway her, the small woman cut him off.

Fuming with a pathetic flush across her freckled cheeks as she told him, “Don’t! Don’t try to talk sweet or sell me some honeyed-worded bullshit!”

“Now, why would I do that?”

Her mouth dropped at the uncaring words.

Jacob was so cold. Cruel even when he did try to console her when Teagan started to sob, "I think maybe you would feel better if you just sat down.”

“I’m walking out of here. I refuse to stay here any longer.” Instantly, she rooted her feet and stood straight.

Her man knew she intended to force her way out. It made Jacob smile and shrug, “Honey, where would you go?” He stepped to the entry table nearby and began to strip away items from his person.

Jacob took off his holster and gun, then his coat, before putting it down and reaching into his pockets for a set of keys. Putting them next to the weapon.

Immediately, Teagan sees her ticket out.

Jacob turned back to the deputy, “You’re making a mistake, you know?”

Fighting in tears and rubbing her bloodied wrists before shaking her head. Her curls flowed with her words, “A mistake? You tricked me!”

“I didn’t need to trick you, Teagan. I was trying to make you stronger. Trying to bring you into something more than yourself,” Jacob scoffed and went on, “You’re blinded by your ignorance, Teagan.”

“What ignorance? That I’m not a killer? You said I wasn’t ready.” Teagan threw his words back in his face.

His response was, “You aren’t.” Cruel, but he steps forward, “Maybe a little longer, and I know you could be stronger. You have the capability, but you lack the nerve. You’ve seen where our world’s headed, and you just wanna be a part of it?”

It’s unclear what he meant by his words, but Teagan could only speculate it had something to do with his cult.

He sounded deranged and delusional, defending when he said, “I make sure our people have the strength and the ability to do what is necessary for the days to come.”

“What about you? Do you have that nerve? And what about John? Killing innocent people is the nerve you’re talking about? You know about that?” Teagan asked. He knew what she meant, and slight sickness stirred in Teagan’s belly when Jacob just stared at her.

Silent. His expression was cold and stoic. No sign of empathy.

“Oh, god,” Teagan dropped her face to the ground. Tears built, and realization came over when she said, “I’m such an idiot..” She mutters.

It made sense. With the local rumors and hate for the cult, after finding out her crimes in New Mexico, aiding her with Nelson Rhodes, and covering for her, Jacob was numb to it all, and it all added up for Teagan.

Before he could try to sway her, Teagan told him again, “I don’t know you. I see it now..” she lifted her chin and stood straight, “I’m going, Jacob.”

Jacob eyed her, his blue eyes attempting to enchant her as he told her, “You know, I can’t let you do that.”

A sob slipped past her lips, and she seethed through her teeth, “I’m fucking leaving. I’m not gonna let anyone stop me.”

“Yeah? And you gonna fight me, baby?” Jacob said with the slightest hint of a smile on his lips.

Teagan answered, “You still gonna let me take the first shot?”

As the soldier let out a deep sigh, he looked Teagan in her dark, glistening eyes. He didn’t say anything except, “You think you’re up for that? You gonna kill me too?”

Cruel.

She put her fists to her sides and said, “I don’t want to. But… if I have to.”

His familiar smug smirk returned when he said, “I don’t think you have it in you.”

A wicked statement, a taunting one, as Jacob stepped closer to her even when she told him to step back. His hands were up as if he was calming a wild horse.

Cooing and sweetly calling to her, reminding her, “You with me, Teagan?”

It’s almost like a whistle, his words beckoning her to him, and she instinctively says, “Yes, Jacob.” But then shook her head, “No! No!” She stuttered, jumping away from him and back into the display cabinet behind her.

“Don’t come near me!” Teagan’s broken words spill out in threats when Jacob’s hands rest on her cheeks. Cradling her face, her soft and dark curls pressed into her cheeks while she gripped his shirt.

Teagan doesn’t fight him off but instead looks up at Jacob in his seemingly bright blue eyes. Enthralled and still bitter when he said nothing apologetic or sympathetic. No sorries for deceiving her or leaving her to his murderous brother.

Instead, Jacob only ran his heavy hand on her cheeks and on her hair as he told her, “Let’s get on home. If John is out and he wakes up, he won’t be too happy. So best we go now.”

The words are honeyed as usual and he’s so convincing for Teagan to go with him. Maybe to calm her enough till he killed her. Instead, Teagan let too many terrible scenarios go through her head before she bawled her fist tightly against his chest and told her firmly, “No.”

When he doesn’t say anything, only glares with a slight offense, Teagan tells him, “I’m leaving here. You’ll have to kill me to stop me, but no one is keeping me here.”

Unsure of what he felt with her words, Jacob’s expression was cold. Unreadable. It terrifies her.

But the deputy won’t hesitate anymore, she’s leaving the Seed Ranch, and Jacob will not be the chain that keeps her there.

Teagan quickly throws her fist into his bruised face. As hard as she could, thankful for her old boxing days.

And the fresh wound gave her the opening she needed. Jacob hissed in pain before grabbing his busted face. Then, swearing and shouting fuck, fuck, fuck.

When she tried to run past him to the keys, a painful grip on her wrist pulled her back and into the bookshelf a little hard.

The small woman slammed back into her, and she let out a pained well when slammed into the glass. Jacob shouted at her, “Teagan, that’s enough!” But he knew his woman better than that when she slapped him across his face. It stunned him just for a moment before turning her around, but Teagan was just a little quicker; she rushed him into the cabinet.

Now the glass doors shattered, and the glass fell to the ground and onto Jacob and his hair. Some into Teagan’s unruly curls.

Even when Jacob was hunched over her, holding Teagan’s torso, she landed heavy and hard punches into his side and belly.

He could’ve been tired from his day, sore and exhausted from her breaking his nose, but Teagan felt she had the upper hand till she felt him catch her hand and twist her wrist. Not enough to hurt her hand, but it caused her to jump in pain and slip back. And Jacob fell with her.

His hard head hitting hers made them both moan in pain. He was heavy on top of her as he stirred a bit, Teagan whimpering from her own headache building.

Broken glass digging into Teagan’s back made her wither with Jacob as both of them ached and pulled each other's shirts.

With all the excitement happening so quickly, the smashed-in cabinet behind them wobbled forward. It was ready to fall onto the couple.

Hitting her fist on his shoulder, warning him, “Jacob, Jacob, the cabinet!”

Quick to look back, the hazed man looked back at the falling cabinet and scrambled to crawl out from underneath. Dragging Teagan with him and pulling his woman on top of him.

The heavy shelf smashed to the ground, and its Eden’s Gate propaganda littered along John’s floors.

Teagan’s heart pounded against her chest, and her throat felt hoarse with her rapid breaths; Jacob was just as exhausted.

He was cradling her, heaving with her as he held Teagan tightly. She can feel him sigh against her back, his chest rising with his deep inhale.

His heart beating against her felt familiar. It brought so much comfort to her as it has for so long, and she could feel almost safe then. Being with him in this hell.

The soldier ran his heavy, rough hand on her face to soothe her, but it only made her wince. Jacob caressed her freckled cheeks, just over the gash she received earlier that day.

There was a slight in his coldness in his voice, maybe with faint concern, “Are you okay?”

After everything, it was hard for Teagan to believe he was being genuine. Even if Jacob asked her again and Teagan nodded.

When he put a gentle kiss on her head after smoothing back her unruly curls, Teagan pressed her lips tightly. To keep in any pathetic sign of surrender. And growing resentment.

Both were the same at that point. Teagan wanted nothing more than to break down at that moment, to be held. Or to throw her fists in his chest, to scream and cry about all Jacob’s misgivings.

Before he can spill his honeyed words and corrupt Teagan’s thoughts, she tries to get to her feet, “I’m still going..”

“Teagan,” but she was quicker than the heavy man, and Teagan lunged away from him.

And when he reached for her bloodied wrist, Teagan was ahead of Jacob this time. Her scarred hand landed across Jacob’s, and her slap was hard enough for him to release her so she could break for his truck keys.

With every breath, fiber, and energy, Teagan ran for the keys. Her hand slammed down on the dark wood table just on top of them.

Before Teagan could make her break, she turned, and the deputy dropped the keys.

Jacob was before her; she underestimated how fast he was. And when Teagan’s dark eyes met Jacob’s, she felt a sudden eruption of excruciating and burning pain. Her side screamed in agony as she looked down at her soaked red shirt.

Blood. And a red handle sticking out of her side.

Jacob’s face was again so monotonous and even disappointed.

Her hands shook frantically and a terrible cry slipped out, “What the fuck?” Teagan could barely get the words out before she stumbled back.

She was weeping and sobbing from the searing pain from her stab wound when she hunched over John’s shoulder entry table, falling down to the ground. Pulling the light table and its contents with her.

Jacob leans down to her, his hands on her back and pushing her curls aside.

Running his hands on her back like a parent soothing an ill child, he told her sternly, “I’m sorry, Teagan, this is the only way I can stop you right now.” His tone is deep, gentle, and still so formal, “You’d kill me. You’d kill John. If.. he’s not dead yet.”

With another pained whimper, Teagan shook her head at this betrayal.

The lies, and now this. She should’ve stayed home. God, she wished she did.

“Do not take it out. You’ll bleed out. I promise, honey, I’ll be right back, and we will fix this.” Jacob again tried to be some comfort as she sobbed and cried.

When he put his hands on Teagan’s shoulders to roll her to her back, a deafening popping sound broke through the deputy’s crying, and Jacob fell back.

On his back, groaning in pain over his own wound. Teagan shot him in the belly. She was slick enough to grab Jacob’s gun and turn it on him.

That was a mistake on his part. Leaving his loaded weapon out like that.

Swearing quietly as Teagan watched him. She was still on the ground, on her stomach. Her own blood stained her shirt from the blade in her side. But she shivered in agony and kept in silent sobs while she dropped the gun.

Jacob went on saying shit and goddamn it to the heavens before he tried to pull himself up on a nearby recliner. But stumbled forward, just in front of his bloodied woman.

Whimpering softly as she pulled the blade out, Teagan gritted her teeth when she felt the pain grow more searing. And peeked up when she heard Jacob scold her, “Why the fuck… did you do that?”

“You left me no choice..” she took a minute to catch her breath and hold her bleeding side.

The wounded soldier gritted his teeth and groaned behind them, “I told you.. I told you not to touch that knife,” he tried to attempt to crawl, painfully and smearing blood onto John’s pretty floors.

A look of shame overcame Teagan’s flushed face when she realized Jacob was making his way to her.

Now, she could feel a sense of urgency when he said, “You’ll bleed out..”

If he was showing Teagan meant something, this was not the time. Not when she had foolishly walked blindly with a cult and shot her boyfriend. After he stabbed her to subdue her.

Her unruly and wild curls tickled her cheeks when she shook her face when he made it to her. On his belly and bleeding out just like she, Jacob let out a shuddering sigh when he grabbed at her. Gripping the fabric on her shoulder to pull her closer when he told her, “You wanted to leave. Now you should go.”

Teagan felt his forehead against hers while she choked back her painful sob, “Jacob…”

She wasn’t sure if she had the strength to walk out now. Not only with Jacob stabbing her, a betrayal, but Teagan even dealing her own damage and hurting him.

Betrayals and possibly the pain she felt sent a wave of terrible emotions over her. And she felt defeated.

“I’m so stupid,” Teagan said, “I.. don’t think I can make it out..”

Jacob’s hazed eyes snapped from her crying eyes to her lips, “Yeah, you can. Because I can’t protect you if you don’t.”

Once she heard his words, Teagan ceased her weeping and listened when he told her, “If I pass out before you, I can’t protect you from my brothers.. they’ll want more blood for this..” he groaned deeply as his grip on her shirt tightened and even dug his forehead into hers. Teagan could smell him, his usual woodsy air mixed with the smell of copper.

Teagan was so sorry, and she wanted to tell him. But then she remembered the church and John’s game and Jacob being compliant. She hated him, or that's what she could keep telling herself.

“Go. Maybe you’ll get to Rye’s place.. or Fall’s End but go now. I need to check on John..”

Concerned still for her man, she asked, “And what about you? I shot you, Jacob..”

And a slight hint of his smug and stupid grin she loved dearly showed when he told her, “Gonna take more than a gut shot to kill me, honey. You’ll get it right next time,” and with that, Jacob released her before rolling in his side. Stumbling and pulling himself to his feet with a deep and painful sigh. Jacob was tired or worse as he held his bleeding belly and struggled to the kitchen. To his baby brother.

The deputy did the same, whimpered, and cursed everything when she pushed herself up and out of the lovers’ pool of blood.

After retrieving the keys she dropped earlier, she struggled but reached for the tipped over table she pulled down earlier. Teagan told herself she was stronger than this and better as she stood up.

Hunched to the side, the deputy put as much pressure as possible on her wound. Kicking away all of the white bound books with a haunting Eden’s Gate cross stamped out of her way, Teagan hurried for the door.

Never had she been so grateful to feel the warm sun on her skin and the wind on her cheeks as she wobbled to Jacob’s truck.

She wondered if Jacob was okay but needed to leave before more cultists joined their heralds. Or before the brothers could call them there.

Maybe it was fear, adrenaline, or loss of blood, but as Teagan turned the key, she felt her face grow cold. Her body shivered as she put the truck in drive and stepped on the gas.

The poor, broken woman felt a fog over her, spots here and there as she tried to focus and get to help. Nick Rye maybe, or anyone at this point.

It might not have mattered as she felt more tired, her body feeling heavy as she felt her mind go a bit. She was bleeding out and on the verge of letting go. Dying.

The deputy couldn’t go, I can’t go now! Teagan keeps telling herself to wake up, but it does nothing.

She thought of Jacob, and wondered if he thought of her before everything went dark and cold.

The last thing she heard was a car horn. The horn didn’t stop, it was deafening. But only for a bit before it went silent and cold.

#ripping this bandaid off #happy belated anniversary to sad fic 😭I love them #they're so in love #everything’s fine #x: be my victim #jacob x teagan #oc: teagan reyes #fic: hanged man #jacob seed x female deputy

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