Chapter Text
Dutch wasn’t at all surprised when the deputy clambered down the ladder of his bunker in a cold sweat. She was wide-eyed, like a doe in front of headlights, and deep purple bags hung beneath the lids. It was apparent she had not slept peacefully the previous night. “I’m afraid I might’ve made a horrible mistake,” her hoarse whisper reached the old man as he sat hunched before his radio.
“Yah think?” he managed to splutter, gesturing to the frantic cacophony of voices pouring from the radio speakers. Among them were Eli Palmer, Pastor Jerome, and even Mary May screeching in the background. “After all the work yah did for the resistance,” he silenced the chatter through the airwaves and shook his head lightly, “Sparing the Seeds? My God, Rook.”
Her head dipped low, hanging with immediate shame at her folly. “I just couldn’t do it,” she barely managed to whisper out. “I tried, but…” Burying her face in her palms, she choked out a tiny sob, “What was I supposed to do?! They told me all those stories about their past! How could I when they might have a chance to-?” The rest was cut off by another cry of despair.
Dutch watched carefully, quietly, as if he didn’t quite know how to react. Finally, he settled with a slightly agitated grunt and rose from his chair. A thumb and forefinger pressed into his eyes, rubbing harshly. For sure he was annoyed as all hell but, right now, what the deputy needed was comforting. Placing a calloused hand atop her shaking shoulder, he muttered gently, “It’s alright. Everything’s gonna be just fine. You stay here as long as you need. Think about things and I’ll keep a close eye on their movements for yah.”
Steadily, a beam rose across her features and she began to settle at the sound of his kind and reassuring words. Perhaps she really had chosen the right place to come to in this time of confusion. At least, it felt that way in the moment. Only an hour or so had passed and the two were just beginning to settle in for the night when a soft crackling kicked up from the once silent radio.
“Dep…? Where…you, Dep…?” The broken string of questions came out in an eerily familiar tone, setting a small flame blazing in her stomach. She knew that voice well, especially the way it sounded over the airwaves.
“Sweet child…only want…word…” And then there was another in a slightly different but equally familiar tone.
At this point, Rook’s blood had gone cold, turning to icicles in her veins. Theywere searching for her. She could only stand there, dumbfounded as the shock pierced her system. Dutch was no different, casting a concerned look in her direction before fiddling with the device so everything came in clearer.
A gruff chuckling poured from the final brother, his words as plain as day. “I guess our kitten decided she didn’t want to play anymore.”
Jacob. She knew it was him though the atrocious nickname was something entirely new.
A hiss silenced him and the Father spoke up, as calm and collected as ever. “My sweet child, I know that you are listening and I have to say…I’m surprised!” a soft but musical laugh crackled sharply, “I did not foresee this strange turn of events. It’s very naughty of you to change the rules of the game like that so suddenly but I’m nothing if not willing,” he paused to draw in a breath and she was sure that airy, smug grin of his was in its full effect. “Why don’t come on back to us? It’s no fair game unless you play as well.”
The Baptist cooed next, hardly seeming to be able to wait for his brother to finish speaking. “Yes! Come out of hiding, dearest.” An eagerness laced his rigid tone like a coiling snake. “I promise, things will be different this time, but only if you come to me in person.”
“Calm yourself, John,” Joseph warned lightly, “We wouldn’t want to scare off our new family member, now would we?”
A garbled scoff spilled from the speakers as Jacob cut in. “And what’s wrong with that? A bit of fear never hurt anyone!” He cackled, a boorish and unmannerly noise that sent a bolt of lightning straight to her knees.
She could feel them buckling under the weight of his suggestion and Dutch had to dive to catch her elbow. Grabbing on roughly, he managed to steady her swaying body. Her brain felt like it was swimming through murky water. What on earth had she done by sparing them?
“That is utter nonsense!” John sneered, clearly disgusted by the brutish man’s declaration. “Rook should be treated like a princess! Only the finest of things, personal flights in my best planes, silk sheets, designer dresses…” He seemed to lose himself in a dream-like trance, the thoughts overtaking anything else.
“You’ve got it all wrong, pal,” The ginger haired hulk of a man sniggered with the confidence of a wolf preying on a wounded rabbit. “My kitten is a fighter. She isn’t weak. I’m sure she’d enjoy surviving out in nature, on the mountains, far more than your nerdy plane obsession.”
“Whoever said she was your kitten?” he shot back, obviously in full wrath mode. “And my interests are not nerdy! I have a very refined taste and I just know that-!”
A snap from the middle brother cut him off mid-sentence. “That is enough you two!” Joseph chastised in a low, dangerous growl. “Bickering fruitlessly won’t solve any of your problems.” he paused before adding almost inaudibly, “Besides, I know for a fact the little lamb would enjoy a stroll through the Bliss gardens with me the best.”
“Oh ho ho! I see how it is!” John’s sarcasm swelled as high as he dared against the Father. All of their voices sounded at once and it seemed their argument was heating up but static was drowning them out. It was impossible to make sense of the all out brawl with everything in such discord.
The shouting faded out as the signal was lost entirely and the two bunker mates were suddenly plunged into a discomforting silence. A heaviness seemed to blanket the space and, thankfully, Dutch decided to speak up first.
“Christ, kid!” He slapped a palm to his forehead, rubbing in complete bewilderment. “It looks like you’ve gotten yourself in some deep shit with the Seeds! I’ve never seen ‘em act that way. The hell did you do??”
All the color had drained from her face and she trained wide pupils on the perturbed man. “I don’t know.” A million thoughts raced around inside her head but no conclusive ideas were met. It was true the brothers had always acted strange around her, despite her actions constantly hindering the Project. Countless of cultists had been murdered, her own hands soaked in their blood. That in and of itself should’ve been undeniably irredeemable but, apparently, it was not. Those Seed brothers sure were something else. She hated to admit it, but, they impressed her time and time again and it would be a lie to say she never thought sweetly of them. As sickening as it was, it was the ugly truth that plagued her mind like a dark curse.
Before any more of the situation could be discussed, the device sparked to life once more, catching their attention effectively.
“Oh, deputy,” John sang out in amusement, saccharine playfulness thick in his voice like honey, “Why don’t you answer us? I think you’ll be overjoyed to hear what we’ve decided!”
Rook and Dutch shared a startled look before continuing to listen.
Joseph hummed softly, the slight tune of Amazing Grace catching hold of him before melting away. “I’m very sorry you had to hear all of that. I don’t know what came over us! The solution was simple all along.” he resumed humming peacefully, having cleared every bit of turmoil between his brothers. “I quite like this new game you’ve introduced us too, little lamb.”
“Get on with it,” Jacob grunted impatiently, perhaps still clinging to a bit of bitterness from the squabble before.
The Father didn’t miss a beat, drawling onwards in that aura of tranquility he so often carried. “We will each make our own preparations. Jacob in the Whitetail Mountains, John in Holland Valley, and I in the Henbane River and then you will choose. Your home has always been with us, so I believe we will all be happy with whatever you decide.”
“Don’t make us wait too long,” John piped in urgently, not even bothering to mask the intense need harbored in his voice. “Because if you do…”
“We’ll just hafta come and get yah, kitten…”