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Rook had always known there was something rotten inside of her. Something wrong. It was like a disease- an ugly, violent thing that infected everything she touched. Always lurking just beneath her skin.
Festering.
She had even let John try to cut it away once. Hadn’t so much as flinched as he carved big angry letters across the length of her chest. WRATH.
A wasted effort.
John couldn’t save her-- no one could. Because in the end, it was just…her. Born broken. Wires crossed.
Damned.
“We are officially in Peggie country,” Hudson’s voice crackled over the radio.
Rook sighed.
Perhaps this was her punishment.
“How much farther?” Marshal Burke asked. He turned to Sheriff Whitehorse. One…two…
“Far enough for us to turn around,” he answered. Three.
Rook closed her eyes.
82 times and it always started the same way. 82 times she had woken up in the same damn helicopter and listened to the same fucking conversation. Do it. Don’t do it. Do it.
82 times.
“They’re dangerous.”
“You scared Sheriff?”
Rook shut her eyes harder. A tightness welled in her chest. She wished they’d shut up.
They never shut up.
Just more bickering and heavy sighs and reluctant orders. And then, just when she could take it no more, like perfect clockwork, the Sheriff would sigh.
“We’re here.”
We’re here.
Rook’s eyes snapped open.
“Keep your weapons holstered and let me take the lead,” the Sheriff glanced behind him at Hudson and Pratt. “Maybe we’ll get out of here in one piece.”
Rook looked away.
They wouldn’t. Not this time.
Mud shifted under her boots as she left the helicopter. A Peggie sneered and then there was the soft whoosh of a flamethrower. Right on cue. She quickened her pace- didn’t bother to wait for the others.
This time was hers.
The 82nd fucking time.
She was halfway across the compound by the time Hudson called her name.
“Rook!”
She moved faster.
“Rook, stop!”
Smoke burned at the back of her throat, choking and familiar. She was close now.
“Be gone!”
A Peggie with a thick beard pointed a stick at her. She remembered him, remembered the sound he had made when he died.
“Rook!” Sheriff Whitehorse yelled.
She turned a corner and the church appeared. Waiting for her. The sounds of singing grew louder and louder until at last she was in front of the door.
She hesitated. Her fingers trembled, hovering outstretched towards the handle. A thin wood door and she’d be inside. One door. She took a deep breath.
No one had ever accused her of being a coward.
She gripped the handle tight and pulled.
“What the hell Rook?” A harsh hand wrenched her back. “When I tell you to stop, you damn well stop!”
Sheriff Whitehorse glowered down at her, fingers twisting into her bicep. He was panting heavily, as if he had been running. Panic surged up her spine. They would not keep her away. Her fingers clenched into a fist. Not this time.
“Get your people under control!”
The Marshal hissed. He reached for the door and the Sheriff dropped her arm. A small sliver of light peaked out from inside. Her lips parted and she took a step forward.
“Wait!” The Sheriff pushed a hand against the door and the light disappeared. He glared at the Marshal, then Rook.
“We do this quietly.”
There was another pointed look in her direction. A pause. Her jaw hardened.
And then finally-finally, she was inside.
And staring at Joseph Seed.
He was always the first thing she saw in the church. Every. Time. Bent over the altar, spewing scripture- illuminated as if he was some kind of a fucking saint. His smile would sharpen and a mob of Peggies would swell around them.
His voice made her skin itch.
“They will come, try to take our way of life…”
Joseph’s gaze swept over the crowd, landed on her.
“-Try to take me from you!”
The Peggies swarmed up in response, gnashing their teeth and snarling.
“We will not let them!”
Joseph’s voice seemed to rattle off the walls of the church now. Fever pitched. Wild.
“Joseph Seed!”
The Marshal approached the altar, brandishing a warrant like a weapon. Fool. Joseph just laughed. She blinked up at him.
Sometimes, Rook wondered if maybe Joseph knew. If he knew that they were stuck in a perpetual loop. That they’d done this already.
That they would do it again.
He stepped towards her and his mouth stretched into something ugly. She bit her tongue to keep from baring teeth back.
Maybe he was just crazy.
“Cuff him Rook!”
Joseph’s hands came forward, palms up in a mimicry of surrender. John appeared behind him.
“God will not let you-”
“No!”
Rook snapped. She couldn’t bear to hear it again. She didn’t want to hear about God anymore. He had forgotten about her a long time ago.
82 times.
“Rook…” The Sheriff shifted uneasily behind her.
82 fucking times. She closed her eyes, took a shallow breath. When she opened them, Joseph was staring down at her.
“No,” she repeated, a faint frown pulling at her brow. “He won’t let us take you.”
But here we are again. And again.
Joseph’s chest hitched and she couldn’t stop the little laugh that escaped. The great father-- caught off guard. His mouth twisted, hands drifting down to his sides. She lifted her gaze over his shoulder.
Jacob.
Her knees buckled. Jacob. His eyes were hard, glittering in the moonlit church. She shuddered.
Her gaze shifted back to Joseph. Blood pounded in her ears.
“But I’m not here to arrest you Joseph.”
She pushed passed him. A flurry of angry shouts erupted. Faith giggled.
“What the hell is she doing Sheriff!” The Marshal shouted.
Something selfish.
Her eyes locked on Jacob’s boots. Peggies curled in behind her, cutting off her allies. Now or never. Her eyes snapped up and her throat clenched.
Jacob Seed-- just as she remembered him.
His gaze sharpened under her stare and his smile turned feral. She could almost imagine him baring fangs at her. Threatening. Challenging.
She smiled softly. Then, slowly, she closed the little remaining distance between them. Step by step. She didn’t stop until she was right in front of him, close enough to see the tiny specks of gold in his blue eyes.
Her head titled back and she could feel the warmth radiating off of his body.
“Jacob,” her voice came out too breathless- gave too much away.
He smirked at that, twisted his head down to the side. Curious.
And it hurt-oh god it hurt.
Her heart ached and she imagined ripping it out- stomping on it until it was a bloody red mess.
“You don’t remember me,” she breathed, licked her lips.
Jacob’s eyes flickered down, then slowly back up. Rook shivered and his smile widened.
“We haven’t met sweetheart…” he drawled. She swayed at the sound of his voice. Familiar. The last time she heard it, he’d been dying.
“Oh no,” he chuckled, dark and low. “I think I’d remember you.”
Her expression twisted- soured- because that was the problem. He wouldn’t. He never did.
She drew a shuttered breath. It didn’t matter.
Her hand came out and landed gently against his chest. Jacob hissed and his back snapped straight. Someone gasped. Then silence. So thick it clung over the whole church.
She closed her eyes. Shivered. Her fingers twitched.
She wondered how far she’d get before Jacob tried to kill her.
She didn’t care.
Her eyes fluttered open- caught on the silver of his dog tags. There had been so much blood. She trailed a finger over them, the metal cool beneath her touch. Her hand flattened against his chest, curled into his shirt. Felt his muscles shift and coil beneath her touch. Warm.
And alive- so very alive. He was alive again.
Her fingers grazed against the edge of his beard. Over his bottom lip. Along the path of a scar. So many scars. He swallowed.
“I miss you,” she whispered even though he wouldn’t understand. A sob rose in her throat, ugly and raw. She wouldn’t let the resistance take him again. Never.
And then someone was shouting—no screaming.
“ROOKIE!” The Marshal’s voice crashed down on her.
There was a violent shuffle behind her, Joseph’s harsh whisper, then the Sheriff’s furious curses.
And Jacob recoiled, staggered back. Confused and then angry, oh so angry. His hands yanked her forward on a growl, tightened around her wrists hard enough to hurt. And then tighter.
“What are you playing at-” his lips curled back into a mocking smile. “Sweetheart?”
And her heart broke.
Rook spat back, almost screamed. 82 damn times. 10 years. She’d tried everything. She killed Joseph, his family. Jacob. She’d begged and prayed and fought and given up. She’d atoned. She’d wiped out the entire resistance. She’d loved him.
She loved him.
And none of it ever fucking mattered.
Tears stung the back of her eyes, clouded her vision. None of it mattered.
She shook her head and rose up on her toes, her lips inches from his. It didn’t matter- but she’d tell him anyway.
“I love you.”
His eyes widened and she kissed him then. Hard and desperate and wild. Kissed him because she couldn’t take it any longer, couldn’t stand to see his shock and confusion and awe. Her tongue swept over his bottom lip and Jacob shuddered against her. Then growled. His hands settled on her hips, started to push her back. His mouth lifted from hers, just long enough for a curse and then he was pulling her back. Her lips parted in surprise and his tongue swept into her mouth.
And for a second, Rook didn’t care that he didn’t remember her or even that she’d wake up in that helicopter again. Because he was alive. And Safe. And that was enough.
And then a hand jerked her back and ripped her away from him.
“What the fuck rookie!”
Burke. She crashed back into his chest, snarled. NO! His arms tightened around her with a curse. Joseph shouted, his hand came out- as if to actually help- but then her vision tipped and they were falling back onto the ground.
Her head snapped back, hit the ground with a smack. A wave of nausea. Peggies shouted around her. She tried to stand, to get away, but the Marshal’s gripped tightened. He hissed in her ear, ordered her to stop.
No. No. NO!
She twisted against his hold, slammed the heel of her hand into his nose. Blood poured out. A strangled curse.
Let me go!
His fist came up, caught her by the side of the head. Once, twice. She winced, saw stars. Fuck you. With a snarl, she turned and bit into his arm. Dug her teeth in hard. The Marshal howled and the copper taste of blood filled her mouth.
And then,
Jacob roared.