Archive of Our Own ^beta

It was 9 PM, and the farmer still wasn't home. Sam, being married to said farmer for about a year now, was use to the farmer crawling in bed just before 2 AM. However, there must have been something in the autumn air or perhaps it was a full moon, that turned the locked door in the basement corner into a magnet. 

He felt drawn to it, like never before. The farmer had warned Sam to not go into the room, for there would be dire consequences. He wouldn't like what he saw there. Apparently the farmer didn't enjoy the room either, always seeming stressed and muttering to themself when exiting. 

But after a year, Sam had to get into that room. What was in there that could be so bad?

Of course, Sam respected the farmer's privacy. yet there was apart of him that felt betrayed that his partner didn't trust him. Sam had confided in them about his anxiety about the band and performing in front of people, his worry about his father and having to lie to Vincent, not knowing if his father would ever return. So, why couldn't the farmer do the same?

There were too many unanswered questions Sam had to not investigate. It took him all of summer to figure out where the farmer stored the heavy key to the room. In the fish tank, next to the sea urchins because of course the farmer knew Sam would be too distracted by the cute little hat on it to notice the key. Then, on another night similar to this dreary one, Sam managed to grab the key and have Abigail create a mold for the key. The hardest part was convincing Clint to cast the key without telling the farmer. Sam had to promise Clint that he would talk to Emily on Clint's behalf, but Sam had forgotten to due to the suspense gnawing at his stomach.

Finally, Sam stood in front of the heavy wooden door. The casks humming as they age whatever artisan good the farmer decided to place in them. Probably a bit of everything, around this time the farmer would go on tangents about beating Pierre at the festival and that Pierre was most likely cheating and using their products anyway. Most of the time Sam would zone out due to hearing the farmer rage for so long.

Sam carefully placed the key in the lock and twisted, releasing a loud click. With clammy hands and a deep breath, Sam pushed open the door. Sam's eyes widen as he examined the room. Nothing could prepare him for what he saw. It was like some sort of dark ritual.

Along the wall, every single bachelor and bachelorette had portraits hanging above different colored chests that matched their portrait. Shane, Harvey, Elliott, Sebastian, Alex, Sam, Haley, Emily, Leah, Maru, Penny, Abigail, even some weird monster was there. 

Sam took a shaky step towards the brown chest under his portrait. His fingers clenched the clasp. He hesitated. Should he do this? It's one thing to take a quick peak in a room, it's another to go snooping. But it's his portrait, he has the right to know what's inside, right?

The chest opened with a large creak. Sam closed his eyes, still not ready to see the contents. After hyping himself up by singing lyrics to his band's song, he slowly peeled open his eyes. His shoulders slumped. What was this?

Inside were all his favorite items: pizza, cactus fruit, tigers eye, and maple bars. Stacks and stacks of them. The farmer only gave him two presents a week, why would they need all these items?

He decided to take a peak at the portrait next to his: Sebastian. Inside the dark gray chests were Sebastian's favorite items. Sam looked in all the chests and each chest had dozens of a person's favorite items.

"What is this?" He asked a loud.

"Something you weren't meant to see."

Sam whipped around, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. There the farmer was, covered in slime and Yoba knows what. Bandages cover their arms and legs, but other than that the farmer only seems sadden.

Sam, somehow finding little courage, gulped, "Why do you have all this stuff?"

The farmer shrugged, "Just a little side project I have."

"Like the doves?"

The farmer frowned, "This is nothing like the doves."

Sam's eyes flickered between the farmer and the portraits. Despite being forbidden, this room didn't seem to hold any trouble, just eeriness and secrets that Sam knows the farmer won't share.

"Let's go to bed." The farmer cooed, "In the morning, we can sort this out."

Sam nodded, finally able to accept he was going to get some answers. He followed the farmer into their bedroom and crawled into bed. He waited patiently for the farmer to get cleaned up, petting their dog Marshal as he waited. Thirty minutes later, the farmer crawled into Sam's arms. 

They placed a gentle kiss on his cheek, "It'll all be okay I promise."

Sam hummed in response. As he drifted off into a peaceful slumber, he failed to notice the silent tears of the farmer.

THE NEXT MORNING

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"Sam! You're going to be late for work!" Jodi yelled through the door as she always did when Sam slept in.

Sam groaned and stretched. He glanced at his guitar. Maybe he would play a song for the farmer, but first he would have to replace the strings. Hopefully, he would remember. to write it on his wrist