#Scott Donovan's letter always makes me cry... idk why; it's just ugh

[inafieldofdaisies]

WIP Sunday | Tagging @adelaidedrubman @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @euryalex @strafethesesinners @detectivelokis @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @neverthesameneveranother @wrathfulrook @jacobsneed @voidika @harmonyowl @strangefable @schoute and anyone with something to share <3

This weekend we're boarding the angst train, folks. First up, you're getting a snippet from Chapter 11 where John is going through it, followed by a little something from Calahan (from a different chapter), that simply pulled at my heart and I had to share it. <3

When breakfast was finished John retreated to his bedroom, taking a seat at the mahogany desk and opening one of Sabrina's notebooks to the page he'd been on before going downstairs that morning. The night before, sleep had refused to come after his encounter with Sabrina, so he had slipped back into methodically reading through her entries. What started as a routine search for clues that could help the Project evolved into selfish anticipation of finally finding anything written down about himself. He frowned as he flipped back to the first page of the notebook he was holding. Ironically enough, he had almost skipped that one because he had deemed it too outdated based on the year she had scribbled on the front. At the end, curiosity and fear of missing anything crucial about her had gotten the best of him, especially when he was faced by the idea the notebook was going to offer him insight into Sabrina's life when she was around Savannah's age. Upon opening it, a handwritten note had caught his eye and pushed him to do something absolutely impulsive.

July, 2002 Monkey, I know sometimes you feel like your visions are a curse, especially when people refuse to heed our warnings. I promise I will do my hardest to remind you every day that they're far from it, that there's a meaning to your gift, a reason why you're facing so much darkness. When doubt creeps in, think of everyone that we have managed to help so far and the hope you've given them. It's the same hope I felt from the moment I held you in my arms when you were born. A conviction you will make the world a better place by simply existing in it.

John had finally gotten an answer what made the Deputy so set on caring for others to the point she overlooked her own well-being, where her determination and willingness to help came from. He had no doubt who the messy writing on the page belonged to. Her father. Sabrina had called him a good man, and after reading his letter, John could see where she was coming from and how the man's love shone in the words he had written for her. After this discovery his room had felt suffocating, too small. Before he knew what he was doing, he'd jumped into his truck, telling himself he was going for a drive. It would help clear my head. Put some space between us. The moment he found himself on the empty dark roads illuminated only by his headlights, he just couldn't shake the thoughts of Sabrina off. His pesky conscience reminded him of how he had made her wait for him for hours simply because he couldn't trust himself around her. The drive with no direction had ended up with a destination. Her cabin. The home he had forced her and her sister to abandon. As he had pushed open the front door, memories of entering the house not so long ago returned to him, reminding him of his foolish belief that burying himself in work would fix anything. Wordlessly, he had walked through each room until he had found himself in her kitchen, his eyes stopping at the fridge adorned by mementos. Amongst the few polaroids hanging on it, there was one of young Sabrina with what he assumed was her father. His hand had reached on his own accord, removing the picture before shoving it in his jacket. He had left after that, driving back to the ranch, the whole time refusing to read too much into his actions. Just a silent thank you for saving my life. So I don't feel beholden for what she did on the road. That's all.

He blamed his lack of sleep for his nonexistent self-control that morning. The second he had entered the kitchen all his eyes could focus on were her bare shoulder and the way the thin T-shirt clung to her lithe body. He refused to allow himself to think about the butterfly tattoo and smooth skin his lips earned for. Nor about the outline of her- No. Things had only gotten worse after that. The notebook entries were getting to him, revealing things about her when she herself was guarding her secrets. He couldn't help but wonder how she had coped with the visions for so long, especially when from the sounds of it, the only person that believed her was her father. The man's letter combined with the worried look in her eyes as she questioned him about Darcy Harris and the others had caused him to cross a line. To reach out and touch her, offer comfort. Instead of giving the polaroid to her directly and having her question his reasons for doing it, he had decided to tuck it in the notebook prepared for her, hoping Sabrina would find it on her own eventually. At breakfast, he had watched her closely, trying to figure out if she had made that discovery, and judging by her lack of reaction, she hadn't yet.

A knock on his door pulled him out of his thoughts before they could drag him down further. "Yes?" John heard a giggle before it opened, then Savannah's head poked into the room with a huge smile aimed his way. "Delivery. Your lunch is here." She entered promptly, carrying a plate in her hands that she set on the desk next to one of the piles of notebooks. "Whatcha doing, John?", she asked, raising on her tiptoes in attempt to glance over his shoulder at the page he was reading. "Work stuff, Savi.", he responed, closing the notebook before she could recognize her sister's handwriting. He turned in his chair to look at her as she leaned against the desk. "Work? Rin-Rin said you're a lawyer?" "Yes, I am." As her face scrunched in contemplation, John imagined her brain trying to select which question to throw at him first, then she eventually asked "Is it boring?" Amusement took over him at her directness before he replied, "No. There's always something new to deal with. What made you think that?" "Oh, Rin-Rin said it is." That made him laugh, "Did she now?" Savannah nodded, "Annnd, do you help bad people?" Depends who you ask, child. When he didn't respond right away, she added, "Rin-Rin always told me it's why she became a detective, because they help people while lawyers sometimes have to defend bad guys." John nodded, "I believe I'm helping people, too, Savi." Savannah smiled at his words. "And your sister-" Sabrina calling out her name cut him off, ruining his chance at finding out more from the one person that was most likely to respond to his questions with nothing but the truth. "Ohh, I have to go, John.", she hurried over to the door, "I'm going outside to play.", suddenly she stopped, turning back as a realization hit her, her voice taking on another note of excitement, "Ah, I can't believe I forgot! When will you show me your plane?" "Soon." "Sav?", Sabrina's voice was now on the second floor, making Savannah utter out, "Bye, John." before closing the door. He could barely make out the two of them talking quietly in the hallway, then silence took over the upstairs area as their voices faded away. John got up from his chair with a tired sigh and made his way over to the set of windows in the bedroom. Just stretching my legs. Letting some fresh air in. The poor excuse seemed enough as he opened the door that led onto the balcony.

On an ordinary day, before Sabrina had turned his world upside down, he would have been in a middle of a Confession by then. Tirelessly working on uncovering the sins of whoever was meant to sit in his chair. Instead, he had lunch waiting on him and was watching Sabrina place down a blanket in a shaded spot on the grass before sitting down. A smile appeared on her face at Savannah running around on the lawn, her sister's laughter carrying inside. He knew what Joseph would tell him if he was brave enough to come clean about what he had done, "They're a distraction, Brother. You can't allow this to continue." John forced his attention back to where it needed to be, spending another hour buried in Sabrina's notes when all he craved was to go outside and join them. To selfishly steal a couple of minutes for himself. When he finally took a break, he decided he could use the time to do make daily call to Deputy Hartley while he had no one around to eavesdrop. He picked up the receiver, "Deputy, are you ready to be free of your sins?" He wasn't surprised by the silence that greeted him. It was the usual reply got from the Sinner, followed by curses and empty threats that made him wonder what potential his brother saw in the man. Still, Joseph finds him worthy and he's never wrong about what the Project needs. "Hudson here is feeling a bit lonely. The sooner you get cleansed, the quicker you'd join her in my Gate." That did it. "Fucker, cut the bullshit, this is getting old. When you finally find the guts to face me, I won't be the one getting cleansed and tortured. Where is Sabrina?" John stared at the receiver, trying to control his anger at Hartley's tone and the way he had said Sabrina's name. The question left his mouth before he could stop it, "Why? What is she to you, Sinner?" A dark laugh came through a few seconds later, "Does little Johnny have a crush? You're not worthy of breathing the same air she does, bastard. What she is to me is none of your DAMN business." In a flash his hands sent all the contents on his desk flying to the ground, the neat stacks of Sabrina's notebooks tipped over while the empty plate shattered against the hardwood floor. He was tired. Tired of suppressing the urges. Tired of his temper reaching a boiling point anytime he dealt with Hartley. Tired of forcing a smile and having to tolerate that Sinner while he did his best at hindering John's efforts at preparing for the Collapse. Tired of not even knowing what Hartley was to Sabrina and why Joseph placed his interest in him to begin with. "I have to love them, Joseph? HE'S NOT WORTHY! He's not.", the words escaped his lips in frustration and he felt relieved he was alone at the ranch, that nobody was witnessing his meltdown. Especially not you, Deputy.

You like me, Angel. Too bad you refuse to admit it. But in a way Calahan was glad about [Mary May] faking disinterest. He told himself it was for the best, that it would be an unwanted complication in the middle of a holy war, that the last thing he needed was to fall for anyone and he was certain with her it would be unavoidable and as natural as breathing. The biggest trouble I can ever get myself into.