Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Two pairs of footsteps echoed through the trees, barely camouflaged by the gently blowing breeze. Red and orange leaves fell from above, like harmless flames from the creaking branches of the trees.

“I bet it’s the cold. It’s the cold ain’t it?” Ollie asked, jumping up and catching a leaf out of the air.

The blonde’s companion merely grunted, not seeming to have heard the inquiry, or more likely not wanting to answer at all.

“Kinda funny though, yer usually pissed ‘bout the winter comin’, but not this kinda pissed.” Ollie continued on as the chapel came into view.

Ollie continued to ramble on as they crossed the bridge over the stream and approached the chapel. The chapel door creaked open as the bandits unofficial leader stepped out with a blanket draped over his shoulders. “Didya get it?” Shane asked drowsily.

“Naw” Ollie shrugged, seemingly not caring about how Shane’s expression went from tired to nearly having a stroke.

“ARE YOU-” Shane stuttered looking between the blonde knife wielder and the Marked Man himself. “Not again…” Shane hissed, running a hand down his face. “What happened?” he demanded.

“We got spotted, I tried to take the shot but I missed,” Sawyer spoke.

Shane pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration, “what the hell is it with you and screwing up marks this close to winter?!”

Ollie piped up, “I think it’s cause of the cold”

“Ya think?” Shane deadpanned as Sawyer threw the blonde a withering look. Shane sighed, “it’s fine. As long as we actually GET a mark before the first snow starts we should be fine.” Shane poked a finger up at Sawyer, “do not screw the next one up…”

Sawyer huffed and swatted Shane’s hand out of his face and walked around him into the chapel. It was barely warm inside, something Ollie immediately complained about.
“It’s freezin’ in here!” the blonde griped, “yeh no shit, why do think I have this??” Shane bit back, smacking Ollie in the face with his blanket.

Ollie then proceeded to attempt to grab the blanket from Shane resulting in a ridiculous tug of war act.

 “You’ve gotta be kidding me” Sawyer growled, “the firewood’s all out.”

“Uh yeah” Shane spoke, voice strained as he tried to get the blonde to let go of his blanket.

“And you didn’t get any from outside?” Sawyer deadpanned,
“not my job” Shane hissed, “Ollie would you quit this bullshit?!”

Sawyer narrowed his eyes at the man before turning and walking out of the chapel.

Closing the door behind him, Sawyer relished in the silence that greeted him as he walked around back towards the shed where they kept the spare firewood. Why Shane didn’t even bother to get it himself when he was so so cold was beyond him.

Sawyer was reaching for the door handle of the shed when something in the corner of his vision caught his attention. He whipped his head to the side, one hand going for the revolver on his hip as he locked eyes with a girl hiding just within the tree line.

What..?

It took Sawyer a moment to realize he still had his left hand on the handle of his revolver. He slowly raised his hands up to show he meant no harm. However, the kid had other plans as her green eyes widened and she bolted back into the trees in ablur of red hair.

“Hey wait!” Sawyer shouted, running after her.

Every running step sent pain pulsing through his bad knee until he slowed to a stop. Only then did he realize that there were no foot prints on the ground besides his own. He followed his trail back to the chapel and looked around where he’d seen the girl. Not footprints. “oh, for fucks sake” Sawyer grumbled, running a hand down his face.

Lack of sleep must be affecting him again, making him see things, though vividly seeing someone right in his field of view was a first.

He went into the shed and grabbed an armful of firewood and walked back into the chapel.

“the hell took ya so long?” Shane spoke as Sawyer walked in. “Thought I saw someone lurkin’ ‘round our place.” Sawyer muttered.

“Was there?” Shane asked warily as Dusty walked out of her room.

“Naw, there weren’t even tracks in the dirt” Sawyer spoke.

“Fate’s sake, when was the last time you’d slept? ‘R at least napped?” Shane groaned in exasperation.

“Dunno” the marked Man replied.

Shane sighed, “I’ll take watch tonight, you hit the sack and nap or somethin’. That must have been why you missed yer shot today.”

Sawyer threw a glare in Shane’s direction but said nothing.

He tried to sleep that night, really tried, but he couldn’t.

Chapter Text

For two weeks Sawyer eyed the tree line with suspicion. There were no tracks in the soil, so it couldn’t have been real… right?

Him and Ollie had gone out for another mark that day, at least it went well this time. Shane was no longer anxious, for now. Sawyer took watch for the night and everyone else went to sleep. He was the only one awake in the chapel.

It was always quiet at night, save for when a demon strays too close or walks right over them, but those moments were rare.

Sawyer rubbed a thumb over the strap of the rifle he’d slung over his shoulder as he sat up straighter on the pew he was sitting on.

As the hours dragged on, he’d gotten up a few times to walk around to ease his bad knee, walking past the boarded up windows, occasionally peering between the planks of wood to see outside into the gloom.

He was about to sit back down, but convinced himself to take a few more steps, peek through the next window, and then sit on the pew to wallow in his mental misery again. He narrowed his eyes against the soft moonlight that trickled through trees when he saw the silhouette of a person sneaking around the chapel in the bushes.

Sawyer gritted his teeth and marched towards the door, carefully swinging it open and stepped out into the cold night. He immediately regretted not throwing his jacket on as the cold air acted like needle pricks on his skin as he walked down the stairs.

He looked around before spotting the slight movement in the bushes. It took only a few long strides for him to get there. He reached into the bushes and grabbed the lurker’s arm and hauled them out into the open.

Sawyer’s eyes widened when he realized it was the girl he’d seen two weeks ago, the one he’d chased after and assumed wasn’t real, “Hey! Lemme go!” she snapped, making an attempt to twist her arm out of his grip.

“Who are you?! Why’re you lurking ‘round our place?” Sawyer snapped, loosening his grip but not letting go just yet.
“I said let me go!” the girl shouted, “SHUT UP, there are demons out here!” Sawyer hissed in a hushed tone.
“NO SHIT” the girl bit back.

Sawyer sighed, “What do you want from us?” he asked and the girl glared at him.

“This is the second time I saw you ‘round here” he pointed out, “yer lucky you didn’t get shot yet.”

She looked away, still upset and refusing to answer.

“How did you get out in the sticks anyway?”

That question seemed to catch her attention, as she gave him a quizzical look, “Whaddya mean by that?”
“I mean how’d ya get into the sticks” Sawyer spoke, gesturing to her clothes, “y’don’t look like you live out here”
The girl snarled and tried to yank her arm out of his hand with no success, “What?! I can’t live out here an’ have nice things?!”

“Quiet,” Sawyer hissed, “And no, y’can’t keep things lookin’ that clean out here, ever.”

“Well if I ain’t from the sticks, the hell does it look like I come from?!” she snapped.

“That colony to the North,” Sawyer spoke. The girl rolled her eyes, “I ain’t from that stinkin’ place. I was born out here”
“Then you should know y’shouldn’t be outside after dark” Sawyer spoke,
“Yer out here” the girl pointed out, “cause yer lurkin’ around my place” Sawyer threw back.

The girl stuck her tongue out at him, causing Sawyer to chuckle. When was the last time he did that?

“I know the lay of the land ‘round here, there ain’t nowhere nearby that you could be holed up,” Sawyer spoke, finally releasing her arm, “Daylight’s gonna show soon though, can’t be more than half a turn till all the demons fade away.”

The girl rubbed at her arm, kicking stones as Sawyer turned to go back into the chapel. “Where are ya goin?” she asked, following after him.

“still dark,” he spoke simply, “’s too cold” he added under a hushed breath.
He heard the girl snicker at his remark as he reached the door he’d left ajar and walked in. He turned and noticed the girl standing on the porch, seeming hesitant to come in.

“You can come in y’know” he spoke.
“Naw, I’m good out here” she spoke sheepishly.
“Hell naw, if I’m cold I know yer cold, yer tiny” he spoke, grabbing his jacket, and upon spotting Shane’s blanket forgotten on a pew, snatched that too.

“I ain’t tiny!” the girl snapped,

“SHH!” Sawyer hissed, “my friends r’still asleep. here” he said handing her the blanket.
The girl looked at it nervously, seemingly unsure whether or not to take it.

“It ain’t gonna bite you” Sawyer spoke.

The girl reached out and hesitantly touched the cloth with her fingertips before grabbing with both hands.

“Thanks…” she spoke as she draped it around her shoulders and sat down on the stairs.
Sawyer shrugged the rifle off his shoulder and slipped his jacket on before going to lean against the doorway.

“So, how long have you been around here?” Sawyer asked and the girl shrugged.
“I dunno anymore,” the girl spoke, a strange haunted tone taking over her voice, “maybe a coupla months?”
Sawyer hummed, “you plannin’ to leave for the winter?”

“Dunno if I can” the girl replied.
“Why’s that?” Sawyer asked and girl shrugged and said nothing.

Daylight soon began to peek over the treetops. As the crackling sound of the demons leaving the sticks alone till the next night echoed through the trees, the girl stood up and held out the blanket to Sawyer.
“I should get goin now” she spoke as he slowly reached out and took the cloth from her hand.

“this early? It’s the ass crack of dawn” Sawyer spoke.

“Yeah, I’ll be okay” the girl spoke, “thank you for talking with me though,” she said before she turned and bolted down the stairs.

Sawyer watched her go as the door to Shane and Dusty’s room creaked open, “Sawyer? What the hell’re you doin standing in the door like that? Yer letting the cold air in.”

Sawyer rolled his eyes with a huff as he walked into the chapel and shut the door behind him.

Chapter Text

“Go to sleep you stubborn bastard” Sawyer snarled from where he was standing, looking out of the window.

“Naw, no way” Shane argued, “You really think that girl showin’ up ‘round here, stalking our place ain’t tied up with someone back in Shiloh? You said it yerself she looked too tidy to NOT have come from the colony.”

“So, what?” Sawyer snapped, “you gonna capture her? interrogate her?”
“Ask her questions is all” Shane pointed out, “Like how she found us, why  she’s still lingering round here, and if we hafta chase her off”

“She’s a kid Shane” Sawyer snapped, deciding to just glare out the window.
“Yeah? You an’ Ollie were “kids” too y’know” Shane bit back and Sawyer slowly turned his head towards him, “Be careful there” the Marked Man warned in a tone that made Shane sit up a little straighter.

Shane huffed and turned back to the fire while Sawyer lingered close to the window.

Hours passed and soon Shane fell asleep, slumping over on the pew he was in while Sawyer remained vigilant near the window.

As soon as he spotted the girl carefully making her way out of the tree line and walk towards the porch, Sawyer quietly walked to the door, opened it and stepped outside.
“Yer back” he spoke when the girl walked up the steps.

She furrowed her eyebrows, “you saw me comin?”
“From the window, y’ain’t as sneaky as you think you are” Sawyer spoke and the girl wrinkled up her nose.

They both sat on the steps in silence, listening to the nighttime din of the sticks. “So,” Sawyer began, catching the girl’s attention, “you gonna tell me yer name or can I just keep callin’ you tiny?”

“I ain’t tiny” the girl spoke defiantly.

“small fry then” Sawyer offered,

“I ain’t that either!” she hissed and Sawyer chuckled.

“How’s about pipsqueak?” he added,

“It’s Sid!” the girl snapped at him, despite the fact she was smiling, “my name’s Sid.”
“I’m Sawyer” he spoke and the girl, Sid, tilted her head in thought.

“That’s a cool name” she spoke.

“Y’think so?” Sawyer asked

“Yeah” Sid replied, picking up a stick and drawing in the ground with it.

Silence fell between them, each huffed breath condensing in a puff of white, a sign of the winter coming in. Sawyer furrowed his brows, usually it would be another couple of weeks before that happened, winter must be coming early this year.

“What’s up?” Sid’s voice cut through his thoughts.

Sawyer was silent for a moment before leaning back, “winter’s comin’ early this year, usually means it’s gonna be hella cold.”

Sid pressed her lips into a slanted line, “okay…?”

“Y’don’t hafta be out here all winter,” He spoke, “the demons are bad enough in good weather, the thick snow clouds means they won’t disappear ‘til late in the day and come back earlier in the evenin’.”

Sid frowned and was silent for a long moment.

“It’ll be safe, and lots’a blankets” Sawyer added and Sid smiled.

“What about yer buddies?” she asked.

“One of ‘em may want to ask you a lotta questions,” Sawyer admitted, “like how ya found us and why yer still lurkin’”

“Hmm” Sid grunted, her expression turning solemn. Sawyer watched her for a long moment, seeing the cogs turning in her mind as though for some fate forsaken reason she considering not taking up the offer on what might be their worst winter yet.

“I think I’ll be fine.” Sid replied, not meeting his gaze.

“Y’sure?” Sawyer asked and the girl nodded.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his gloved hand. A brush of cold early winter air had his pulling his jacket closer around himself. “Can ya at least tell me where ya live ‘round here then? In case ya need any help ‘r to bring ya food?” he asked.

He ran his hands down his face as he waited for the girl to answer.

“Sawyer, what the hell are you doin’ out here?”

Sawyer turned and looked over his shoulder at the chapel door, seeing Shane bundled up in a blanket, looking right back at him like he just insulted the Highway Man. Sawyer glanced back to the space beside him on the steps.

Sid was gone.

Chapter Text

“Maybe Shane showin’ up scared her off?” Ollie piped up, though his words didn’t quite carry to Sawyer’s ears where he stood looking out of the chapel windows.

“Doubt it, might be the snow.” Dusty countered before turning to Sawyer, “Y’did say she wasn’t wearing winter clothing right?”

Sawyer didn’t answer, still looking out the window at the snow gently coming down from above, blanketing the barren ground in a freezing cushion of white. It’s been three weeks since he last saw Sid, two weeks since the first snow, one and a half weeks since he’d slept properly.

“Sawyer?”

He jolted, having not heard Dusty come up so close. “Fuckin’ hell, Dusty.” He hissed, “what?”

“You look like shit,” she spoke, crossing her arms, the blanket on her shoulders shifting a bit.

Sawyer rolled his eyes, “oh, do I?” he scoffed, turning back to the window

He felt Dusty put a hand on his arm, the shorter woman gently turning him back towards her, “how about this,” she began, “you take the night and actually fuckin’ sleep and I’ll stay up and watch for the kid fer you.”

Sawyer raised an eyebrow, unconvinced.

“I won’t fall asleep if that’s what yer worried about.” She spoke.

Sawyer held her gaze, “Naw, ‘m not tired anyways.”

“You only say that when yer tired.” Ollie spoke, the lack of a slight mocking or joking tone in his voice was lost on the taller man who kept his gaze fixed outside.

Several long minutes went by with Sawyer stubbornly glaring out the window, Dusty standing next to him as if her very presence would be the straw that breaks the camel’s back, hoping Sawyer would faint from exhaustion like he always does. Ollie uncharacteristically watched them both with a concerned look on his face for once as Shane, who was sat next to the blonde, pressed his hands into his temples.

Finally, Shane blew out a forced sigh and stood up, Ollie’s attention snapping to him immediately. “Sawyer.” Shane started, his voice sharp, “get away from the damn window.”

Sawyer glanced at Shane from the corner of his eye, a movement only Dusty would be able to catch from her vicinity to him.

“Oh for Fate’s sake…” Shane hissed when Sawyer didn’t move.

“Look.” Dusty huffed, moving so that she see Sawyer’s face, “No one else’s gonna say it – more like Shane doesn’t want to for a good reason – so I will.”

“Have you ever considered that the girl wasn’t… really here?”

To anyone who didn’t know him well enough, it would have seemed like Sawyer hadn’t heard Dusty’s words. But he did. It felt like the temperature in the chapel dropped a several degrees as Dusty stepped back, prepared to take whatever words Sawyer would roar at the four walls and roof of their makeshift home. It was normal after all, yelling was normal for them. At least Dusty knew Sawyer wouldn’t raise a hand against her, and she was confident she could handle him if he dared to try.

“Y’think I’m crazy.” Sawyer spoke, a low chilling tone.

Dusty grimaced, Shane suppressed a scoff and the look on Ollie’s face could break hearts.

“Of course not!” Ollie exclaimed, “it’s just… we know when yer not sleepin’ right, and the mark before our most recent one kinda bothered you and-”

“Y’think I’m just makin’ this up?!” Sawyer shouted as he whirled around, Ollie’s mouth snapping shut.

“No…” Ollie replied, his words seemingly bouncing off Sawyer’s both tired and angered expression.

“I’m gonna be honest with you,” Shane spoke up, redirecting Sawyer’s dangerous gaze to him, “this is the worst off we’ve seen you yet.”

“I don’t want ta hear yer two pennies in this you sunnuvabitch!” Sawyer snarled.

“Didja really think we haven’t picked up on yer pattern?” Shane asked, “Yer fine for a while and then you just crash, you don’t sleep, hell, how much have you been eatin’ this month? Bet yer appetite kicked the bucket too didn’t it?”

Sawyer responded with a scowl that even had Dusty backing up a step. Shane just scoffed, “yeah, don’t think you can fool me, pal. I’ve spotted you putting some of yer gruel back in the pot.”

“There is a fucken KID out there and winter came EARLY DAMMIT” Sawyer snapped.

“Sawyer, the last two times you’ve said that kid was around here I haven’t found any footprints.” Shane stated.

“I grabbed her out of the damn bushes, I gave the damn blanket and she put it on!!” Sawyer desperately reasoned.

“You didn’t even hear her leave this last time-”

“I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP!” Sawyer bellowed.

Silence fell over the chapel, broken by Sawyer’s ragged breaths and Ollie picking at the wood of the pew he was sitting on. Shane and Sawyer were caught in a glaring match, Dusty caught between leaving them to haggle it out on their own and breaking it up before they went from words to blows.

Luckily Shane backed off before Dusty began to suspect Sawyer was going to lunge at the other man, “Just, sleep, please for Fate’s sake.” Shane muttered, pinching the bridge of his nose as he sat back down next to Ollie. Dusty watched as Sawyer narrowed his eyes and clenched his jaw before going back to his spot by the window, ignoring them more than ever. Dusty sighed, pulling the blankets around her tighter as she walked over to the pew Shane and Ollie were on.

Chapter Text

Red eyes threatened and tried to see through the blizzard that whipped into him. When he turned around, looking in all directions, it was just white, white, white, white…

“Help me”

He whipped around, searching for the voice, that familiar voice. Just white, white, white…

“Help me…”

He knows that voice.

“Hurry!”

“SID?!” Sawyer shouted into the white. He stumbled around, the cold snaking up his limbs like a disease.

“I am Sid… Where are you?”

“I don’t know!” Sawyer shouted, his heart hammering in his chest, what if she can’t hear him?, “Stay put and I’ll follow yer voice!”

“Please don’t go, please find me…”

“I WILL!” Sawyer shouted. Suddenly it was like hands grabbed his arms and legs. He slammed into the snow and his limbs refused to work right. “NO! SID!”

“Please find me, don’t leave me like this…”

“WAIT!”

…

Sawyer shot up from where he was laying huddled on the floor with the others. Their argument had of course raised tensions, but not wanting to freeze to death had won over pettiness, and sleeping in their own rooms was a no go with how cold it was. Ollie grumbled from where he was half draped over Sawyer’s legs but didn’t wake up as the taller man gathered his bearings. Sawyer ran a hand through his hair as he tried to get his breathing under control. He grabbed the blanket draped over him and viciously threw it off as if the cloth item had been strangling him in his sleep.

“I guess we can re-add nightmares to yer list.” Shane spoke next to him.

Sawyer turned his head to his left, where Shane leant next to him with Dusty out cold on his shoulder. “you shut the fuck up.” Sawyer hissed dangerously, “howdya even get me down here?”

“Easy.” Shane shrugged, “we waited for you to pass out and me and Dusty dragged you over next to the burnin’ pit. Just like every time you’d pull this shit in the winter.”

“I ain’t pullin’ any shit.” Sawyer growled and to his irritation Shane shushed him.

“Whatever” Shane whispered, “just go back to sleep.”

“And hibernate in here while Sid freezes to death?” Sawyer snapped.

Shane huffed and shut his eyes, “it’s late, there’s demons out and yer drained, not to mention that it’s fuckin’ cold and our winter clothes are shit. Just go back to sleep.”

On top of Sawyer came a harrumph, “y’know things have gone to hell when Shane’s bein’ responsible” Ollie mumbled.

Shane narrowed his eyes at the blonde, “Naw” he bit back, “Things have gone to hell if you’re responsible.”

“Shane is right about one thing,” Dusty chimed in, “shut up and go to sleep.”

Sawyer grit his teeth, leaning back against the coarse rock of the burning pit as he crossed his arms. The chapel was eerily quiet save for the sounds of his companion’s breathing and bellowing wind from outside. Sawyer eyed the door, from his position on the floor.

“Would ya not?” Shane hissed in a whisper.

Sawyer ignored him and kept staring at the door.

“Y’know, we have a really good reason to keep ya here.” Shane spoke.

“Oh do you?” Sawyer grumbled.

“Yeah, cause you go we’ll all freeze to death, and the  you’ll freeze to death.” Shane shrugged.

“Naw, you’ll be fine.” Sawyer growled, finally standing up.

“Why??” Ollie protested as Sawyer crawled out from under him. The taller man ignored him as he retrieved his coat and walked back up to the window. White stretched on for as far as he could see. His breath fogged up the window, blurring his view of the blizzard beyond, but he didn’t care. Sid as somewhere out there, and everything in him screamed that she was real and in trouble. The others could doubt him all they want, hell, they could call him crazy, but he knew what he’d seen, what he’d felt when he grabbed her arm, when he handed her that damn blanket. He turned from the door and reached for the doorknob.

“Sawyer, for Fate’s sake,” Shane’s voice cut through the silence, low but sharp, “you’re gonna get us all killed if you go out there now.”

Sawyer didn’t turn around. His hand gripped the cool metal until it creaked. “Ain’t your call,” he muttered.

“It damn well is,” Shane snapped, sitting up straighter as the blanket slipped off his shoulders. “You think you’re the only one who’s worried in all this? Fine. But you go out in that storm, you’re not just risking your own neck. You’re leaving us to deal with the fallout when you don’t come back.”

Ollie stirred, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. “She’s got a point, y’know,” he mumbled. “Demons love a good blizzard. They’ll be out there, waitin’. You go chasin’ ghosts, you’re gonna end up one.”

“She ain’t a ghost,” Sawyer growled, finally turning to face them. His red eyes burned in the dim light of the fire pit, the mark on his neck itching like it always did when his temper flared enough. “I saw her. I talked to her. She was real, dammit.”

“Sawyer,” Dusty said, her voice softer than usual, “We ain’t sayin’ you’re wrong. But Shane’s right about one thing, this storm’s a killer. Even if that girl’s out there, you won’t find her in this. Not tonight.”

Sawyer’s jaw clenched, grinding his teeth together so hard that it hurt. He wanted to scream, to tear the door off its hinges and charge into the snow just to prove them wrong. But deep down, a small, nagging part of him, the part that wasn’t fueled by his exhaustion and desperation to do something other than what Shane’s deal with the Highway man called for, knew they weren’t entirely off the mark. The Sticks were bad enough in daylight, at night, in a blizzard, with demons prowling? It was suicide.

Still, the image of Sid’s green eyes wide with fear haunted him. Her voice in his dream, pleading for help, echoed in his skull. He couldn’t shake it. Wouldn’t.

“Fine,” he said at last, the word bitter on his tongue. “I’ll wait ‘til morning. But if she’s out there, and something happens to her ‘cause I sat here twiddlin’ my thumbs, that’s on all of you.”

Shane rolled his eyes but didn’t argue further, sinking back against the pew with a grunt. Ollie gave Sawyer a sympathetic look, but it was Dusty who stood up and crossed the room to him.

“C’mon, big guy,” she said, nudging his arm. “At least sit by the fire pit. You’re makin’ me cold just lookin’ at you.”

Sawyer didn’t move at first, his gaze flicking back to the window. But Dusty’s hand stayed on his arm, firm but not forceful, and after a moment, he relented, letting her guide him back to the fire pit. He dropped onto the floor with a heavy thud, his bad knee protesting as he stretched it out.

The chapel fell quiet again, save for the crackle of the fire and the distant wail of the storm. Ollie was already dozing off again, his head lolling against Sawyer’s shoulder. Shane, for his part, stared into the chapel wall, his expression unreadable. Dusty sat cross-legged back beside Shane, her pink hair catching the firelight as she fiddled with the edge of her blanket.

“You really think she’s out there, don’t you?” Dusty asked after a long pause, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sawyer didn’t look at her. “I know she is.”

Dusty nodded, her usual bravado replaced by something softer, almost thoughtful. “Then we’ll look for her tomorrow. All of us. Deal?”

Sawyer’s eyes flicked to her, searching for any hint of mockery. Finding none, he gave a curt nod. “Deal.”

Chapter Text

Morning crawled through the thick cloud cover, the blizzard easing into a steady snowfall that blanketed the Sticks in an eerie calm. The demons would be gone by now, retreated to whatever cursed corners they hid in during the day. Sawyer was already up, pacing the chapel like a caged animal, his coat slung over his shoulders and his revolvers holstered at his hips.

Shane has just barely stood up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. “You’re really doin’ this, huh?”

“Damn right I am,” Sawyer said, checking the chamber of one of his revolvers. “You comin’ or not?”

Shane sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Yeah, yeah. But if we freeze our asses off and find nothin’, I’m blamin’ you.”

Ollie was next to stir, stretching dramatically. “Mornin’ already? Feels like I just blinked,” he groaned, scratching at his blonde mop of hair. “So, we huntin’ for this kid or what? Bet she’s faster than a demon in a dust storm.”

“Shut it, Ollie,” Sawyer muttered, his voice low but lacking its usual venom. He was already at the door, peering through the slats of the boarded-up window. The snow had slowed, but the ground was a thick white sheet, unbroken except for the faint tracks of some critter that’d braved the cold. No human footprints. No Sid.

Dusty pulled her blanket tighter, her pink hair sticking out at odd angles from sleep. “If we’re doin’ this, we do it smart,” she said as she stood up “No runnin’ off half-cocked, Sawyer. We stick together, check the perimeter, and don’t go chasin’ shadows past the stream. Demons might be gone for now, but they’ll be back by dusk.”

Shane snorted, grabbing his own coat from a nearby pew. “Yeah, and if we don’t find her quick, we’re back here before the snow buries us. I ain’t haulin’ your frozen corpse back, Sawyer.”

“Like you’d even be able to manage that,” Dusty quipped.

Sawyer ignored him, pushing the chapel door open. The cold hit like a slap, biting at his exposed skin as he pulled his scarf tighter around his face. He stepped onto the porch, scanning the tree line. The Sticks were quiet, the kind of quiet that made your skin crawl, like the world was holding its breath. He squinted against the pale light, searching for any sign of movement, a flash of red hair, a scuff in the snow.

Ollie bounded out after him, twirling a knife between his fingers like it was a toy. “Bet she’s holed up somewhere cozy. Maybe a cave? Or one of them old hunter shacks? Y’know, the ones with the creepy skulls hangin’ on the walls ‘n’ stuff?”

“Focus, Ollie,” Dusty snapped, stepping out as she fitted her brass knuckles over her hands. “Kid’s smart if she’s survived out here alone. She’s gotta have a hideout nearby. Sawyer, you said she was by the shed once? Let’s start there.”

Shane trudged out last, muttering under his breath about “damn fools” and “freezin’ for nothin’.” But he followed, his hand resting on the shotgun slung over his shoulder, eyes sharp despite his grumbling.

The group made their way around the chapel, boots crunching through the snow. Sawyer led the way, his limp more pronounced in the cold. The shed came into view, its rusted hinges creaking as a gust of wind rattled the door. He crouched by the spot where he’d first seen Sid, his gloved hand brushing the snow aside. Nothing. No footprints, no signs of disturbance. Just like before.

“Fate’s sake,” Sawyer muttered, standing and rubbing his neck where the mark burned faintly. “She was here.”

Shane crossed his arms, his breath puffing out in white clouds. “Or you’re seein’ things again. You sure you ain’t just—”

“Don’t,” Sawyer cut him off, his voice a low growl. “I know what I saw.”

Dusty knelt beside him, inspecting the ground. “No tracks don’t mean nothin’,” she said, her tone practical. “Snow’s fresh. Coulda covered her steps. Or she’s light enough not to leave much of a mark. Kid’s small, right?”

“Tiny,” Sawyer said, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips before it faded. “Called her that. Pissed her off.”

Ollie snorted, flipping his knife into the air and catching it. “Sounds like my kinda kid. Bet she’s got a mouth on her, too.”

“Let’s spread out,” Dusty said, standing and brushing snow off her knees. “Sawyer, you and Ollie take the tree line to the east. Shane and I’ll check west toward the stream. Meet back here in an hour. No heroics, got it?”

Sawyer nodded, already moving toward the trees, his revolver in hand. Ollie fell into step beside him, humming a tuneless song under his breath. The forest was a maze of bare branches and snow-dusted pines, the air thick with the scent of frost and distant decay. Sawyer’s eyes darted from shadow to shadow, his heart thudding with a mix of hope and dread. Sid’s voice from his dream echoed in his mind, “Please find me, don’t leave me like this…”

“You really think she’s real, huh?” Ollie asked, his usual cheer tempered by a rare seriousness. “I mean, I ain’t doubtin’ you, but… y’know. Shane’s got a point. You ain’t been right lately.”

Sawyer didn’t answer right away, his boots sinking into the snow as he scanned the ground. “She’s real,” he said finally, his voice rough. “Grabbed her arm. Felt her. She ain’t some damn hallucination.”

Ollie nodded, twirling his knife again. “Alright. I believe ya. Just… don’t go losin’ it out here, yeah? We need you in one piece.”

Sawyer grunted, his attention caught by a faint snap of a twig deeper in the trees. He froze, raising a hand to silence Ollie. The blonde stopped mid-step, his knife stilling in his hand. Sawyer’s eyes narrowed, locking onto a patch of underbrush where the branches quivered, just slightly.

“Sid?” he called, his voice low but carrying through the quiet. No answer. He took a step forward, his bad knee protesting, and parted the branches with his revolver. Nothing but snow and shadows.

Ollie crept up beside him, peering into the gloom. “Demon?” he whispered, his grip tightening on his knife.

“Naw,” Sawyer said, though his hand stayed on his gun. “Demons don’t sneak like that. Too bold.” He stepped back, scanning the area again. “She’s here. I know it.”

They pressed on, checking every hollow and cluster of trees, but the forest gave them nothing. No tracks, no signs, no Sid. The hour passed too quickly, and soon they were trudging back to the shed, where Dusty and Shane were already waiting.

“Anything?” Dusty asked.

Sawyer shook his head, frustration clawing at his chest. “Nothin’. You?”

Shane kicked at a pile of snow. “Same. Stream’s half-frozen, but no sign of her. No camps, no shelters. If she’s out here, she’s a damn ghost.”

“She ain’t a ghost,” Sawyer snapped. He turned away, staring into the trees as if he could will Sid to appear.

Dusty put a hand on his shoulder, her touch firm but gentle. “We’ll keep lookin’, Sawyer. Every day if we gotta. But you need to eat, sleep, and not freeze your ass off out here. She’s smart, like you said. She’s survivin’ somehow.”

Sawyer didn’t respond, his eyes fixed on the horizon where the snow was starting to pick up again. The weight of his exhaustion pressed down on him, mingling with the guilt that had been gnawing at him since he first saw Sid. He didn’t know why she mattered so much, why she had burrowed into his head. Maybe it was because she reminded him of someone. Or maybe it was just that, for once, he wanted to save someone instead of just surviving.

“C’mon,” Dusty said, tugging at his arm. “Back inside. We’ll try again tomorrow.”

Sawyer grit his teeth, turning around slightly and casting final look out across the bare white landscape. Then he saw it.

“Aw, fuckin’ dammit!” Shane snapped as he caught his foot on a stone that was hidden by the snow, nearly toppling forwards and falling face first if Dusty hadn’t stepped away from Sawyer and caught him. “This is why I hate bein’ out here in snow!” Shane griped while Ollie snickered at him.

“Don’t worry, we’ll be inside soon.” Dusty reassured him.

Too late did they realize that something had grabbed Sawyer’s attention. Too late did they notice him take that first step towards the bridge.

Chapter Text

Every running step sent a jolt of pain up his leg. By the time the others called out to him in alarm, he was already too far away to really make out what they were saying, not like that would change his mind.

All it took for him to go running was seeing that shock of red hair, a pale face looking at their group from the tree line across the bridge. “Please find me…”

In more tolerable seasons, the Sticks were hell to navigate. Multiple times he and Ollie had gotten lost and stayed out way past dark, resulting in them dragging their half dead asses back to chapel either half mauled, digested, or covered in demon blood. Now, the snow made the Sticks unnavigable. Sawyer still ran on, hoping to see something, anything.

He skidded to a stop, his knee protesting as he whipped his head around to look for any sign of the girl.

A twig snapped to his left, and he spun, revolver raised. Nothing but a low branch swaying in the wind. His heart hammered in his chest as his lungs heaved. He lowered the gun slightly, his eyes darting to every shadow, every flicker of movement. “Sid!” he called, his voice hoarse. “It’s me! Sawyer! Come out, kid!”

He just almost missed it, but he spotted movement between the trees. Red.

Sawyer took off running again. Changing direction each time he’d spot the girl fleeing, and for some reason… it felt like she was leading him somewhere. “Don’t leave me like this…”

His lungs started to burn and his limbs grew numb. No, I can’t stop now. “Sid! Stop, it’s me!” He shouted into the cold. He could hear the others catching up now, he couldn’t let them stop him. He snarled and bolted again, running with everything he had through the winding trees and knee high snow.

He burst out of the tree line so suddenly he startled himself. Before he knew it, his legs were going out from under him as he fell backwards onto the ice, the impact driving the air from his lungs. He laid there for a long moment, panting as the tried to get air into his body and give his muscles time to recover. Heard snow shift on the opposite side of the frozen pond. Sawyer shot upright, one hand gripping a revolver as he aimed it at the source of the sound only for his heart to freeze in his chest.

Sid was standing there, hands clasped to her chest as she looked at him with an odd expression.

“Sid…” Sawyer spoke, the name lost to frozen air.

Sid turned away from him, looking into the trees behind her before casting him a brief glance, a glance of uncertainty and… guilt?

“Wait,” Sawyer spoke, reaching a hand out to her.

She turned and ran back into the forest. Sawyer scrambled to his feet, awkwardly hobbling to the other side of the frozen pond and taking off in a sprint as soon as his feet found stable ground. He heard the others discover the pond behind him just as he left, Shane and Dusty cursing up a storm as Ollie cried out in shock. They’ll be fine… They’d catch up or they wouldn’t. He wasn’t stopping.

He kept running until the forest opened up into a small clearing. Sawyer skidded to a halt, his boots sliding on a patch of ice hidden beneath the snow. His knee buckled, and he caught himself against a tree, panting heavily. His eyes scanned the clearing, searching for any sign of Sid. The snow was undisturbed, no footprints, no broken branches, nothing. But he’d seen her. She’d been right ahead of him, he could have sworn it.

“Sid!” he shouted, his voice cracking in the cold. “Where are ya, kid? I ain’t leavin’ without you!”

A faint rustle came from the far side of the clearing, where the trees grew denser, their branches heavy with snow. Sawyer straightened, his revolver still in hand, and limped toward the sound. His heart thudded against his ribs, each beat a mix of hope and dread. What if Shane was right? What if he was losing it? No. He shook the thought away. He’d felt her arm, heard her voice, seen the way she’d clutched that blanket. She was real. She had to be.

He heard the others coming closer, their chattering voices clear through the cold air. He had just stepped into a tight space between the trees when saw the dilapidated shack nestled in an illogical place to build such a thing. He quickly strode over to it, bursting through the door which pitifully collapsed into a pile of detached planks on the floor. He cast his eyes about the one room in shack, falling on a darkened corner and he froze. He didn’t know how to register it at first as confusion, denial and horror dawned on him. The revolver fell from his numb fingers as he backed up into the wall behind him slid down to the ground, the rotten wood walls protesting from his weight.

A long moment later the others burst through the doorway, their footsteps crunching on the broken planks. Dusty was the first to see it, her sharp intake of breath cutting through the silence like a knife. “Fate’s sake…” she muttered, her brass knuckles glinting in the dim light as she instinctively stepped closer to Sawyer.

Ollie froze mid-step, his knife slipping from his fingers and clattering to the floor. “Oh, hell…” he breathed, glancing to Sawyer before he looked back. “That’s… that’s her, ain’t it?”

Shane lingered in the doorway, his shotgun lowered, his face unreadable but pale. “Sawyer,” he said, his voice low, careful, like he was talking to a cornered animal. “You… you okay?”

Sawyer didn’t answer. His eyes were fixed on dead ahead, his mind racing to piece together the impossible.

Chapter Text

He had seen her.

Talked to her.

Felt her arm in his grip.

She’d taken the blanket, sat on the steps, snapped at him for calling her tiny.

How could she be here, like this?

The word clawed at his throat, but he couldn’t say it. Wouldn’t.

Sawyer’s back pressed against the splintered wall, his breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps as his eyes locked onto the small, crumpled form in the corner. Sid. Her red hair was unmistakable. Her green eyes, once bright and defiant, stared blankly at the ceiling, unseeing. Her skin was pale, too pale, tinged with a sickly gray that made Sawyer’s stomach lurch. A thin layer of frost clung to her clothes, clothes that used to be clean, too clean for the Sticks, just as he’d said, now worn and tattered.

Dusty crouched beside him, her hand hovering over his shoulder before settling there. “Sawyer,” she said, her voice steady despite the tremor in her eyes. “You couldn’t’ve known.”

“I saw her,” he croaked, his voice barely audible. “She was real. I talked to her, Dusty. She was here.”

Dusty’s jaw tightened, and she exchanged a glance with Shane. Ollie shifted uncomfortably, picking up his knife but holding it limply, like he didn’t know what to do with his hands. “Maybe… maybe she was, y’know, before…” Ollie started, then trailed off, wincing at his own words.

Shane stepped forward, his boots crunching on the debris. “Sawyer, listen to me,” he said, his tone sharper now, trying to pull Sawyer back from the edge. “You ain’t crazy. But this…” He gestured toward Sid’s body, his hand shaking slightly. “This ain’t right. She’s been gone a while. Look at her. That ain’t fresh.”

Sawyer’s head snapped up, his red eyes blazing with a mix of grief and fury. “Don’t you fuckin’ tell me what I saw!” he roared, shoving himself to his feet despite the pain in his knee. He stumbled toward Sid’s body, his hands clenched into fists. “I felt her, Shane! I gave her your damn blanket! She was alive!”

Shane held up his hands, stepping back. “Alright, alright, I hear ya,” he said, his voice softening. “But we gotta figure this out. If you saw her, talked to her… maybe there’s somethin’ else goin’ on here.”

“Like what?” Sawyer snapped, his voice cracking. “You think I’m seein’ ghosts now? You think that’s it?”

“Maybe, I don’t know!” Shane shot back, his own frustration bubbling over. “But you’re standin’ here, losin’ it over a kid who’s been dead longer than you’ve been seein’ her. So yeah, maybe it’s ghosts or maybe it’s just demons playin’ tricks like they always do. Or maybe you’re so damn tired you’re seein’ what you wanna see.”

Sawyer lunged forward, grabbing Shane by the collar and slamming him against the wall. The shack groaned under the impact, dust and splinters raining down. “You callin’ me a liar?” Sawyer growled, his face inches from Shane’s.

Dusty was on her feet in an instant, wedging herself between them. “Enough!” she barked, shoving Sawyer back. “Both of you, knock it off! This ain’t helpin’ her, and it ain’t helpin’ us.”

Sawyer staggered back, his chest heaving. Shane straightened, brushing off his coat, his eyes still locked on Sawyer. Ollie stood off to the side, his knife twirling nervously in his hand, his eyes darting between Sid’s body and his friends.

Dusty turned to Sawyer, her expression hard but not unkind. “We believe you saw somethin’,” she said. “But right now, we gotta deal with what’s in front of us. This kid… she’s gone. We need to figure out what happened to her. And why you’re seein’ her.“

Sawyer’s gaze dropped back to Sid’s body, his anger draining away, leaving only a hollow ache in its place. He limped closer, kneeling beside her despite the pain shooting through his knee. Her clothes were obviously tattered now, not the pristine outfit he’d seen her in before. A thin scar ran across her cheek, one he hadn’t noticed in their encounters. Her hands were curled into fists, like she’d been fighting something, or someone, until the end.

“She was scared,” Sawyer muttered, his voice barely a whisper. “In my dream… she kept sayin’, ‘Find me. Don’t leave me like this.’”

Ollie swallowed hard, his voice small. “Maybe… maybe she’s tryin’ to tell you somethin’. Like, unfinished business or whatever.”

Shane snorted, but there was no venom in it. “Don’t start with that ghost story crap, Ollie.”

“It ain’t crap,” Sawyer said quietly, his eyes still on Sid. “She led me here. I saw her, out by the pond, then here. She wanted me to find her.”

Dusty knelt beside him, her hand resting lightly on his arm. “Then we’ll figure out why,” she said. “But we can’t do it here, not in this storm. We need to get back to the chapel, get warm, and think this through. Maybe… maybe there’s somethin’ about this place, or her, that’s got answers.”

Sawyer didn’t move at first, his eyes fixed on Sid’s face. The guilt was crushing, a weight that pressed down on his chest until he could barely breathe. If he’d found her sooner, if he’d pushed harder, ignored Shane’s doubts, maybe she’d still be alive. Maybe.

“C’mon, Sawyer,” Dusty said, her voice gentle but firm. “We’ll come back for her. Give her a proper burial, yeah? But we gotta move now.”

Sawyer nodded slowly, his throat tight. He reached out, hesitating, then gently closed Sid’s eyes. “I’m sorry, kid,” he whispered. “I’ll figure this out. I promise.”

He stood, his bad knee nearly giving out, but Dusty caught his arm, steadying him. Shane stepped forward, slinging his shotgun over his shoulder. “Let’s move,” he said, his voice gruff but lacking its usual edge. “Before we all freeze.”

Ollie lingered a moment longer, staring at Sid’s body with a mix of sadness and unease. “She don’t deserve to be left like this,” he said softly.

Dusty froze for a moment before turning to a dresser that looked as sad as the rest of the shack. She rummaged around in it for a moment before producing a grey sheet of cloth which she used to cover the girl’s body for the time being.

The group trudged back through the snow, the weight of what they’d found pressing down on each of them like the storm itself. Sawyer’s mind churned, replaying every moment he’d seen Sid, every word she’d said. She had been real to him—solid, alive. But now, the truth lay in the corner of that shack, undeniable and merciless. Was she a ghost? A trick of his exhausted mind? Or something the Sticks had hidden from them all along?

Back at the chapel, they gathered around the fire pit in silence. The flames threw long shadows across the walls, but none of the warmth reached Sawyer. He sat apart, staring into the fire, his hands knotted into fists. No one spoke at first; there was nothing left to say.

Dusty finally shifted, pulling her blanket tighter around her shoulders. “She don’t deserve to be left like that,” she murmured. Her voice was soft, stripped of its usual sharpness.

Ollie nodded, his knife limp in his hand for once. “Yeah. Not out there in the snow.”

Shane let out a long breath, rubbing his face with both hands before resting his elbows on his knees. “We’ll deal with it tomorrow. Give her a grave. That’s all we can do.”

No one argued.

Sawyer didn’t move, didn’t look away from the flames. Sid’s face lingered in the firelight, her voice echoing in his mind. Please find me. Don’t leave me like this. Help me.

Chapter Text

The next day they’d gone back to the shack with shovels.

The snow had ceased falling for a moment as Sawyer led the way back to the shack. Dusty, Shane, and Ollie followed, their shovels slung over their shoulders, faces grim under the weight of what they were about to do.

The shack came into view, its sagging roof barely holding under the accumulating snow. The broken door still lay in splinters on the ground, a reminder of yesterday’s discovery. Sawyer paused at the threshold, his breath puffing out in white clouds as he stared at the corner where they’d found Sid. The grey sheet Dusty had draped over her body was still there, now dusted with frost, blending into the shadows like a forgotten ghost.

“Let’s do this quick,” Shane muttered, his voice rough as he adjusted his grip on the shovel. “Storm might get worse when it starts up again. Don’t wanna be out here when the demons come back.”

Dusty nodded as she pulled the sheet back. Sid’s face was just as Sawyer remembered, pale, gray, her red hair stark against the cold. Her green eyes were closed now, thanks to Sawyer’s final act of kindness, but the sight still hit him like a punch to the gut. He clenched his jaw, forcing himself to look away as he grabbed his shovel and stepped outside.

They chose a spot just beyond the shack, under a gnarled oak tree that stood like a sentinel against the blizzard. The ground was frozen and  unyielding, but they dug in silence, the only sounds the scrape of metal against earth and the howl of the wind. Sawyer’s hands blistered beneath his gloves, but he didn’t stop. This was for Sid. She deserved this much, at least.

Ollie, usually the first to crack a joke, was quiet, his knifes tucked away as he worked alongside the others. His face was pale, his eyes darting to the tree line every few minutes, as if expecting something, or someone, to emerge from the snow. Shane kept his head down, his shovel biting into the. Dusty worked steadily, her pink hair tucked under a scarf, her expression unreadable but focused.

When the hole was deep enough, Sawyer went back into the shack alone. He knelt beside Sid, carefully wrapping the sheet around her small frame. She was so light, too light, and the realization made his throat tighten. He carried her out to the grave, the others stepping back to give him space. Gently, he lowered her into the earth, the sheet catching the snow as it settled.

Filling in the grave somehow felt more agonizing than digging it, the others standing awkwardly afterwards as Ollie used one of his knives to mark the tree before he stepped away. Sawyer lingered the longest, his eyes fixed on the grave as the others turned away. The snow had started again and was falling faster until the grave was nearly invisible, swallowed by the white.

Back at the chapel, Sawyer took up his post by the window, his eyes scanning the tree line around the chapel for any sign of her. The snow was a blur now, the world beyond the glass a shapeless void. He knew she wouldn’t be there, but he couldn’t stop looking. Not yet. The others didn’t try to pull him away this time, letting him keep his vigil in silence.

Two days later, the exhaustion finally won. Sawyer’s body gave out again, his tired form slumping against the window where he’d pulled up a lone pew so he could keep watch. He didn’t fight it this time, letting the darkness pull him under. In his dream, he was in a flowering meadow, vibrant with colors that shouldn’t exist in the Sticks. It was spring, the air warm and sweet, even though he knew it was midwinter. He stood alone in the field, the grass swaying gently around him, dotted with wildflowers that glowed under a soft sun as his eyes darted around in confusion. What is this?

A voice drifted on the breeze, so faint it could have been the wind itself. “You found me.”

Sawyer’s head snapped up, his heart racing as he searched the meadow. “Sid?” he called, but there was no answer, just the rustle of leaves and the hum of insects. He turned in circles, his eyes scanning every blade of grass, every shadow, but he was alone. The voice came again, softer this time, a whisper that carried a strange peace. “Thank you.”

He woke with a start, his breath ragged, the chapel’s dim firelight casting long shadows across the room. The others were asleep, their soft snores mingling with the crackle of the fire. Sawyer sat up, running a hand through his hair, the echo of Sid’s voice still lingering in his mind. He didn’t know if it was real, if she’d somehow reached him, or if it was just his tired brain giving him what he needed to hear. But for the first time in weeks, the weight on his chest felt a little lighter.

He looked out the window one last time. The snow had stopped, the tree line stark against the pale sky. No red hair, no green eyes, no Sid. Just the Sticks, cold and unforgiving. Sawyer let out a long breath, closing his eyes as he leaned back against the pew, the ache in his chest easing just enough to let him breathe. Sid was gone, but her voice in the meadow lingered, a quiet promise that he’d done what he could, and maybe, just maybe, that was enough to let her rest.