Chapter Text
Eleanor Rook took a deep breath in as she looked at herself in the dusty, cracked mirror.
The same image she saw every day stared back at her. Her eyes, the same ones as always, stared back at her. Her skin was ashy and wane, the skin underneath her eyes dark and sagging from nights of little to no sleep, thin green veins webbing across her eyelids until she was more ghoul than human. Her hair had more grey in it than she realised - she'd probably have to dye them. Maybe blonde would work.
Eleanor brought a hand up, slow and sluggish, and traced along the thing, bright pink line underneath her left cheek. A reminder, one she wished she didn’t have. Her reflection copied her, matching the blank expression down to the twitch of her dark brow.
Her hand dropped down to the badge that stood proud on her chest, bright against the dark green over-shirt. The County Sheriff’s Department didn’t have the kind of funding to throw around for vanity, so the uniform Eleanor had gotten was a one-size-fits-some and fit her looser in some areas and tighter in others. But that didn’t matter, didn’t even cross her mind really as she stared at the twinkling badge that proclaimed she upheld the law. A bonafide deputy of Hope County.
There was a pang in her chest. Eleanor wished, above all else, that her parents were around so they could see her now. Her father would have cried and yelled at them if they mentioned it. Her mother -
A shrill beeping began and Eleanor rushed to turn the alarm off on her phone. She had kept that in case she overslept. That hadn’t been an issue at all, in fact, Eleanor hadn’t gotten any sleep.
With a cursory check to make sure her hair was secure in the hasty bun she had thrown it into, Eleanor turned and walked out of her dorm room.
It was a temporary solution until she had ended her probationary period at the Department and could afford adequate lodging. She had gone house hunting yesterday after she’d arrived and had her eye on a few key pieces of land.
The one that had stolen her heart was a little cabin by the Henbane River that had a criminally low rent and a beautiful view of everything that the County had to offer. And with the low rent, Eleanor would be able to save enough for a decent car, which was great considering how far away the cabin was from just about everything - the Department included.
A conversation from a long time back surfaced in her mind as Eleanor began the walk from her dorm to the police department. Of Earl Whitehorse and her parents, many, many years back. Of Hope County and it’s infinite beauty. And as Eleanor cast a look around, she believed him. Her parents never could visit the County for vacation and Eleanor realised how much they had missed out on.
The walk was a short one and she had only just been starting to properly immerse herself in the natural beauty all around her, the chirping of the birds and the gentle rustling of the trees, when the doors of the department were before her and she found her legs had stopped working just outside them.
“Come on, Rook,” she muttered to herself when her legs continued to disobey her, “You’ve got this. You’ve managed worse.”
It was a small blessing no one was around to witness her momentary cowardice.
Eleanor took a deep breath in and took her first steps into her first ever Department.
The precinct was a lot smaller than any of the ones her father had worked in, but the layout was familiar enough considering how much time she had spent in them during her youth. Eleanor checked herself in with a kid, older woman named Nancy who was also the dispatch caller. Just like her father had done everyday up until his retirement.
With her presence duly noted, she turned around, ready to find her desk amongst the conglomeration of others in the bullpit. Her own bullpit, where she’d be familiar with everyone and their inane gossip.
Turning her eyes this way and that, Eleanor’s sense promptly abandoned her and her legs froze once more.
“Well, if it isn’t Eleanor Rook. The last time I saw you, you were just a little tike. When did you get so big?”
She was supposed to smile then. Her lips moved and she hoped it didn’t look like a grimace, “Hi, Uncle Earl.”
Earl gave her a brief, tight, warm, comforting hug before letting her go and clapping her once on the shoulder. He had a massive smile on his face - one his ever-impressive mustache wasn’t able to hide and a twinkle in his eye that Eleanor had sorely missed over the many years they had been apart.
Earl had shown up to the funeral, but that day had been a blur for Eleanor. The preparations and the will and the legalities. He had helped out as much as he could, offering her emotional support while he was there, but he had a job as a Sheriff and he hadn’t been able to hang around forever. Eleanor had been a legal adult when they passed, but she was still far too young. Earl had done his best, she would never say he hadn’t. But it just wasn’t the same when he was hundreds of miles away.
“How’s your heart doing?”
His heart attack following his messy divorce three years after her parent’s demise had been scary but Eleanor had been preoccupied abroad at the time and hadn’t been able to help him. She found that to be a recurring theme in her life - she was never around for people when they needed her.
“Just fine, Chickadee.” His smile dropped into something bittersweet, “Well, I can’t even call you “Chickadee” anymore, now can I?”
“Not unless you want me to report you for harassment. That term is outdated, Sheriff, get with the times.”
Whitehorse’s expression dropped comically as they both turned to face a shaggy haired man with a smug looking smile on his face.
“Ellie, this is Staci Pratt, your partner.”
He held his hand out, “You can just call me Staci.”
She took it.
“Rook.”
“I haven’t called anyone that in a long time,” Whitehorse murmured.
Eleanor understood. It had been something she had debated about with herself for a while. But ultimately, she understood that she had to do it. For herself. And her father.
“I want to carry dad’s name on, carry on his legacy I guess.”
“He’d be real proud of you, Chick- Deputy. Old bastard wouldn’t shut up about how happy he was anytime I called when you said you were going to follow in his footsteps. Half our conversations was just him boasting about you, I swear to God.”
The smile that was spreading across Eleanor’s face was genuine and painful.
Staci cleared his throat.
“This is heartwarming, it really is, but you’re monopolising my partner, Whitehorse, and I don’t appreciate it.” Staci winked over at her, “Come on, Probie, I’ll give you a tour of the place.”
“Mind yourself, Pratt,” Whitehorse called as Staci led the way back up the steps, Eleanor in reluctant tow.
Instead of taking her on a tour of the department, Staci made his way out of the precinct and towards the car park. When Eleanor asked, he simply said it was a tradition to treat the new Rookie to a cup of coffee. And it wasn’t until they were strapped in and cruising down the quiet roads of Helena that he began to speak properly.
“So,” he said, his tone cheery, “Seems like you and Whitehorse know each other.”
“He was my dad’s partner quite a few years back. Before he transferred to Hope County and became Sheriff. He was “Uncle Earl” to me most my life, but now looks like he’s going to be “Sheriff”.”
“That’s pretty sweet. Where’s your dad now? Retired? Or still working the field?”
“He’s dead.”
Silence.
Staci swallowed audibly, his voice small, “Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“Ah, uh, shit.”
“It’s fine. I - well, it’s fine.”
“I’m sorry - shit I must have sounded like an absolute asshole earlier.” He turned to look at her, his mouth pulled back into a grimace, “Which is fair cause - damn me and my big mouth.”
“It’s fine,” Eleanor repeated, “Though yeah, you really did, I won’t lie. I was almost worried for a second.”
He let out a weak, awkward laugh, glancing over at her once.
“Yeah, that’s totally fair. But don’t worry, I swear, I can be annoying but I’m not like an actual asshole. I’m not racist or sexist or elitist or whatever other ist there is. Scout’s honour.”
She grinned at that. No, she didn’t think he was.
“So, hey uh,” He cleared his throat, “quick topic change. Why Montana of all places? We aren’t exactly popular for much aside from the mountains and the animals. And maybe the prepper fenatics.”
It had been a question Eleanor had asked herself as well throughout her trip towards Montana. Was she running away again? Or running towards something? She wasn’t sure just yet.
“A fresh start.”
“Is that so? Well, Rook, if there’s any place that could offer you one hell of a fresh start, it’s here. This state - this county? You won’t regret coming here.”
Eleanor - Rook - cracked a smile as they parked near a small diner and Staci got out.
“No,” she said to herself, almost starting to believe it, “I don’t think I will.”