Chapter Text
The problem starts when Dr. Charles Lindsey comes up with a formula that will absolutely, guaranteed, without a shadow of a doubt neutralize the Bliss.
It doesn’t.
And Rook ends up spilling half of it down his shirt where it drips under the waistband of his jeans and makes him decidedly uncomfortable for the hour or so it takes to get another set of clothes. Then Dr. Charles Lindsey calls him about a better formula that will work this time, he swears.
It does.
Rook sprays it on a small group of Bliss flowers and is genuinely surprised when he gets closer and the world stays normal. No sparkles or fireworks or urges to jump off the hulking statue of The Father to see if he can fly. But there are a lot of flowers and Rook is only one man. So he gets a crop duster, does his best not to crash it, and blankets the entire Henbane region, and most of the valley and the mountains with enough of the neutralizer to really fuck over the Seeds.
So maybe the problem really starts with Rook following through with the first idea that came into his head instead of waiting to find out if there were any side effects.
Which there are.
Of course there are.
Things start to get weird. Like, excessively weird, in a way that’s unusual for even Hope fucking County. The kind of weird where a wild-haired, crazy-eyed, bearded Peggie drags Rook in by the lapels of his cool new leather jacket that he stole from a dead guy, and licks at his mouth in an uncomfortable facsimile of a kiss. It’s the very specific kind of weird that not only is Rook unable to deal with, he flat out refuses to try.
His escape plan involves leaving the jacket behind which honestly ruins his day worse than the wet kiss from an unwashed Peggie.
And maybe Rook could account for the Peggie’s behaviour because of how he’s a fucking Peggie and all of them are some kind of crazy or brainwashed or high as a kite on Bliss, but it happens again. This time with a relatively sane couple members of the resistance. And Rook is actually into the idea at first, all soft breasts and sweet mouth at his front, and hard lines and dragging teeth behind him, but it turns from an interesting if sudden moment of fun in the woods, to a fight over his affections. Which he has none. He barely knows them except for an occasional hello in passing.
So that’s not great. Rook doesn’t know what to do about it either since his usual plans almost exclusively involve explosives or a bear. Sometimes both and also a cougar. He can maybe fix the thing with the Peggie like that, but he’s pretty sure he’d get in trouble for sending a bear after anyone from the resistance.
He gets about halfway to Fall’s End when a car driving by makes a sharp swerve into a ditch and the driver comes limping out toward him. Not a Peggie but looking no less crazy. “I have to have you,” he says. “Please, I must have you. Please. No one else can. Please. No one else.”
“Uh, no, I’m good, thanks,” Rook says, reconsidering his earlier plan of explosives.
“I want all of you. Please, I need to have you.”
The guy is clearly injured from driving his fucking car off the road and it’s still technically Rook’s job to take care of things like that. So he knocks the man out, drags him to the nearest ATV, and drives them both the rest of the way to Fall’s End.
Things don’t really get worse from there, but they certainly don’t get any better.
Mary May isn’t usually so affectionate and Jerome has never once shown the inclination to proposition anyone before. Especially not inside the church by means of listing all the things he can do to Rook if he’s just allowed. If Rook will let him.
Rook will the fuck not.
So clearly this is a thing that’s happening now. Something all tied up and about Rook like he’s a prize to be won. And fucked. Or lusted after, maybe is more accurate. The guy in the truck just wanted to keep him which is somehow uncomfortably weirder than just wanting to bend him over and show him a good time. Like what Mary May had offered.
Rook gets the hell out of Fall’s End after that, needing to put some real distance between himself and other people. It’s one thing for a Peggie to kiss him, another thing for random people to proposition him, but something else entirely for his friends to do it. Because he’s pretty sure they weren’t interested a day ago.
“Deputy, do you want to tell me why two of my guards got into a fight over you?” John’s voice is a tight control of barely suppressed anger that crackles in the radio.
“Nope.” Rook will happily tell John not a damn thing. Even if he did have an answer as to why he was suddenly the hottest thing in Hope County.
There’s a click of the radio on and off, repeating, like John is trying to wring Rook’s neck through the plastic. “If you have done something—“ it clicks on and off, snaps of clenched teeth and frustration in the static.
“Done a lot of things,” Rook says because there is only so long he can sit by and listen to John be wrathful in his direction. “Set things on fire, killed things, found some fireworks I’m still deciding what to do with. Fair warning and all.” Current idea involves finding out when John is asleep and setting them off on his roof.
“You—“ The radio makes a sad creaking noise and when John speaks again his voice is overlaid with a grate of broken metal. “You are testing me. I will not… fall into sin over you.”
“Thanks?” Not that Rook is intentionally doing anything test related to John. Mostly he just prefers to stay in the valley due to its low Judge and Bliss content. And maybe because none of the other Seeds are as easily taunted as John. All that wrath and madness makes for a great backdrop to Rook’s explosions.
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I don’t know,” Rook replies, getting comfortable. “I feel pretty flattered here, if I’m being honest with you.”
There’s a creaking noise, a bite of John’s voice, and then a pop! as all the sound cuts off from John’s end of the line. That should give Rook forty minutes, maybe an hour of peace. He uses the time to scrub his skin of any possible trace of the Bliss neutralizer. He’s hopeful, but not optimistic, that the problem will be solved that easily.
Of course there’s no time to test this theory when he’s met by two Peggies just standing outside the bathroom of Rook’s borrowed house, waiting for him.
“Can I at least get dressed first?”
Both Peggies have cloth wrapped over their nose and mouth like Rook is some kind of contagious. The taller of the two looks over to where Rook’s clothes are, then back to Rook raising and lowering his rifle. The shorter one sways forward, reaching a hand out to touch him, then violently jerks his hand back down and swats at his friend.
“You spread sin,” the taller one spits.
“Hey, you’re the one who— ow. Fuck.” They didn’t even shoot him with a Bliss bullet. The shorter Peggie just fucking stabbed him with a needle full of the Bliss like an asshole—
Rook wakes up somewhere dark. He can hear shouting. A lot of shouting, and then two quick gunshots, a stern tone biting out words, and then heavy footsteps on the stairs. The room is flooded with light revealing John Seed and an expensively decorated bedroom.
“Is this your bedroom? You brought me here?” Of all the places Rook expected to end up this one wasn’t at the top of his list.
John flips a light on and Rook would honestly be impressed with how nice the place looks if it belonged to almost anyone else. “Do you have any idea how much trouble you are?”
“I want to say none?”
“First,” John continues like Rook hadn’t spoken. “One of the men I sent after you tried to… express his lust for you.“
“What the fuck.”
“So the man I sent with him corrected the problem.”
“Let me guess, he killed him and left him on the side of the road as an example.”
John’s jaw clenches tight. “Must you interrupt me.”
“Sorry,” Rook shrugs. “Thought we were having a conversation.”
“We’re not.”
Rook waves his hands in his best so continue gesture with both wrists tied together. “But did he—“
“Yes, the man was killed and left as an example of sin to the faithful.”
They silently stare at each other like John expects him to have more commentary, but Rook just nods. He really can’t work up the sympathy for a dead Peggie.
Eventually John does continue. “Secondly, one of my guards tried to pay me to have you.” He’s clearly offended by that, but Rook would bet money it’s not for the same reason Rook is. “They refused to understand that some things can’t be bought.” Which likely isn’t a compliment, but Rook is going to take it as one. That also explains the shouting and the gunshots, unless that’s an everyday occurrence at John Seed’s ranch. It might actually be. “And all of this because you did something to the Bliss.”
“I did not,” Rook lies.
John pulls a face that is flatly unconvinced. “You were seen.”
Which is fair. “That’s fair.”
“Why did you think that was a good idea?”
Rook opens his mouth to answer, then closes it to think. Did he ever consider it a good idea or was it just something he was told to do. “The lying or—“
“The Bliss.” There’s a vein in John’s forehead that looks ready to burst. That can’t be healthy.
“Why did I want to neutralize your mind controlling, hallucinogenic flowers? Well gosh, John, I simply have no idea.” As fun as John is to torment, Rook is starting to get annoyed. Why is he being punished for trying to do something about the cult’s bullshit?
“Is this fun for you?”
Rook sighs frustration. “It’s really not.” There had been a moment, just a single moment in Fall’s End, before he realised it was the Bliss talking, that he thought he was going to get something nice. Something just for him to keep safe in his heart. Being an oftentimes one man army takes its toll after a while. “Are the restraints necessary?”
John’s arms fold over his chest. “I’m still deciding.”
Rook groans, tipping his head against the back of the chair. “Can you stop being an asshole for once? I’m not planning to go anywhere,” he says honestly. “You aren’t aggressively trying to fuck me so you’re kind of my best bet right now.” Which really says a lot about the kind of day Rook is having. John Seed should never be anyone's safer option.
“You are endlessly frustrating,” John says through steel clenched teeth. “I brought you here to help you. I have only ever tried to help you.”
“You tried to drown me.”
“That—“ John exhales, fists clenching and then slowly releasing on another deep breath. “That was wrong of me, I apologise. I shouldn’t have… projected my own sins onto you.”
Rook was not expecting that and it kind of leaves him at a loss. Is this something he’s supposed to forgive John for? Because Rook only has the one experience with someone trying to drown him, but he really hated it more than most other attempts on his life. Not as bad as having to dodge a grenade but still in the top three worst ways he’s almost been killed. Being shot at from a plane while taking a leak in some bushes remains the worst for the foreseeable future.
“So, the restraints?”
John sighs and pulls a knife from his pocket. “You promise you won’t try anything?”
“What am I going to do? If you haven’t noticed I’m naked, I have no weapons, and you just shot one of your guards for trying to buy me. I don’t even know what that means.”
John doesn’t move, still several feet away holding up the knife.
“Fuck, yes, I promise. Happy?”
“Ecstatic,” John mutters flatly, sliding the knife right between Rook’s wrists and pulling up with a practised ease. Definitely not his first time with a bound captive, but a little surprising that he may have released someone before.
Rook rubs at his wrists where they’ve chafed under the coarse rope. “Well, thanks,” he says. Somehow it was less awkward when he was still tied up. Now he’s just a naked guy in his enemy’s bedroom, hiding from other, dirtier enemies. “So how are you not affected? I’d heard that you Seeds are immune to the Bliss, but I figured—“ he shrugs.
“We’re not immune,” John says, pulling open a drawer and tossing a pair of sweatpants at Rook’s lap. “We’re resistant.”
“So you’re feeling the same thing as everyone else?” That’s a little concerning. Rook isn’t sure John is the best case for controlling any urges, specifically toward him. He slides the sweatpants on and carefully steps back, mapping out the exits. Windows, door, bathroom… no great options here.
“I— I’m not going to do anything, deputy,” John says. “Believe me, my only interest in you right now is making you fix what you’ve done.”
And that is both a relief and a problem because Rook hasn’t a single idea on what to do. His one plan involved washing off the formula that got on his skin a hoping for the best. Clearly that plan failed on several unfortunate levels. “Well good luck with that,” he says. “But I wouldn’t even know where to start.”
“What do you mean—“
“I mean it wasn’t my invention. I’m just the…” Rook waves his hand trying to come up with the right descriptor. “Middle man.”
“Of course,” John mutters with that same implication of endlessly frustrating. “Come on, you can’t stay in here all day.”
Maybe not, but Rook is hesitant to leave the relative safety of John’s bedroom for the unknown quantity of Peggies affected by the modified Bliss.
John gets an entire two steps out of the room before he notices that Rook isn’t following. “Anyone who has shown interest in you has been taken to the bunker,” he says. “Currently only a handful remain, but I can’t say I’m too concerned. Your precious Resistance relies too heavily on you to be of any real threat.”
It’s true, but he doesn’t have to say it. Rook is always running around doing everyone’s errands. Destroy this, kill that. He’s good at it, at least. “You’ve been busy.”
“I’ve had to be.” John leads him into a smaller bedroom, flipping the light on and gesturing at the bed. “You can stay here while we clean up your mess.”
“I’d argue that half of it is your mess. You spread the Bliss everywhere, I only tried to stop it.” The bedroom is just as expensively decorated as John’s is, though without the personal touches. “Stay here?”
“Whatever you’ve done has become about you and I can keep you safe here while we figure out how to undo it,” John says. “Unless you want to leave and see what happens with your friends under Bliss control when they get near you.”
“No,” Rook says. That isn’t anything he wants to see, especially knowing he’ll never be able to unsee it. He doesn’t want to put them through that either. Seeing it happen with Mary May and Pastor Jerome was already more than bad enough. He can’t imagine what it’s going to be like from the other side when they come down. “No. Thank you for your… hospitality.” Rook never wanted to rely on John for anything, but the Bliss really does have a way of turning everything upside down.
“You’re welcome.” There’s a pause as John looks around the room possibly searching for anything Rook will be able to use as a weapon. A lot of it, honestly, especially if he wanted to get creative. “Don’t go outside.”
Rook is left alone in John Seed’s fucking guest bedroom with no idea what to do with himself. No television, no radio, and the only books are either cult related or old legal textbooks that Rook has equally no interest in. “Fuck,” he says, grabbing the cult bible and throwing himself onto the bed with its ridiculously high thread count sheets.
*
Turns out that the Book of Joseph is equal parts a depressing insight into the Seeds’ life and a chilling reminder of the sheer depths of their shared delusions.
Rook shuts the book and closes his eyes, dropping it beside him on the bed with a sigh. Too bad there were no clear instructions on how to stop the Seeds from destroying Hope County more than they already have. He gets up, noticing for the first time how dark it’s gotten outside and how hungry he is. The last time he ate was before he got the crop duster to blanket the Bliss in mistakes. Sort of an oh God one flying lesson isn’t enough meal.
The layout of the ranch is a fucking mystery. How many bedrooms, bathrooms, and closets does one man need? Do all of the Seed’s live here when they’re not out doing their cult business? Rook has no idea where Joseph even spends most of his time; he’s always conveniently wherever Rook happens to be.
There are voices coming from further in the house that halt his steps. Rook is not prepared to deal with another lustful Peggie, but the closer he gets the more he recognises who's speaking.
“You really fucked it up this time, huh,” Jacob says when Rook joins them in the living room. He has some kind of sandwich that looks grilled and smells delicious.
Rook’s stomach makes a loudly embarrassing noise.
Joseph stands up, pointing to the chair he’s been sitting in. “Please sit,” he says, disappearing into the kitchen.
Rook sits, idly noticing how everyone else is fully dressed and he’s only in the sweats John gave him. Well, Joseph isn’t wearing a shirt so that’s a little better. “I think the solution to this problem is to destroy the Bliss,” he tells them in case anyone was unclear on his position regarding the Bliss or the cult or most problems.
“You didn’t do anything to the Bliss,” Faith says.
“What?” Rook distinctly remembers standing in some not at all hallucinogenic Bliss flowers.
“Couldn’t even get that right,” Jacob says and John snorts, trying to cover it when Joseph comes back into the room carrying a plate that he hands to Rook.
“Jacob,” Joseph chides softly, taking a seat on the sofa between John and Faith. “We have reason to believe that what you did wasn’t to the flowers, but the people. The Bliss is unchanged.”
“It can’t help the people who need it most,” Faith adds looking the most unhappy that Rook has ever seen her.
Rook takes a bite of his sandwich and chews thoughtfully. “So instead of making them mindless drones it just makes them horny?”
“Not exactly.” Jacob shifts, pulling a radio from his belt, clicking it on and flipping through the channels. All of them resistance, all of them about Rook.
Never once has anyone tried to look for him when he was only missing a few hours. There have been long stretches of days, a few times weeks where no one has asked on his whereabouts. That’s fine, he’s used to it. But the fact that he was in Fall’s End only this morning and now he’s search and rescue topic number one is concerning.
“And it isn’t only lust they’re feeling,” Joseph says.
“The ones I sent to the bunker have become violent at being denied you,” John says.
“My angels are unaffected,” Faith says, curling her legs up onto the sofa. “They may be the only ones in the Henbane who are.”
This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Rook was trying to fix things, not make everything worse. The Bliss was at least avoidable to some degree, especially in the valley and the mountains, but he took that away. He took away that option, even if it was a mistake. “I was trying to help…”
“We are all trying to help, Rook,” Joseph says. “Even when things do not go as planned, we will still do our best to help as many as we can.”
“That’s…” Rook is about to agree with Joseph Seed and he’s not sure if he’s prepared for it. “Yeah, you’re right. Just… tell me what I need to do to fix this.”
“Begin by telling us how you did this,” Joseph says.
Rook chews unhappily at the last bits of his sandwich, putting his thoughts in order. “Dr. Charles Lindsey, the veterinarian, has been studying the Bliss and he thought he came up with a solution to neutralize it.”
Faith makes a curious sound and leans forward. “I know him,” she says. “I didn’t know he was doing that.”
“I think it was a recent idea?” Rook shrugs. It’s not really a habit of his to keep up with what the rest of The Resistance are doing in case they try to give him more work. There’s no reason they can’t find someone else to do their dirty work, but they don’t and Rook has a hard time saying no to anyone. They’re always so hopeful that he’ll somehow fix all of their problems. Which, until recently, he has been.
“Anyway,” he continues, “I sprayed the formula on some Bliss and it didn’t work and I got more of it on me than the flowers so I thought that was it. But this morning he called me again saying he had fixed the problem and I had to try again. So I did. And I thought it worked so I—“
“Stole a crop duster and sprayed everyone?” John supplies, looking somewhere between amused and annoyed. It must be nice for him not to be the fuck up for once.
Which Rook doesn’t say because he’s not an asshole. And also because he’s surrounded be the rest of the Seed family who probably wouldn’t like if he did. “Yeah,” he says. “Impressive for only my second time flying, I thought.” He’d actually been proud of himself for about an hour before everything went tits up.
“That was your second time?” John asks.
Rook wonders if he should remind him that his first time involved stealing back Nick’s plane. “Only other time I’ve flown a plane was when I got Nick Rye’s back for him.” He grins so wide that it hurts, staring John right in the eyes. “You remember that, John? When I flew Nick’s plane out of here?”
“Yes.” John’s teeth grind together hard enough that Rook can practically hear it.
Joseph sighs, drawing his attention away from John. “It would be best if we could cooperate for the time being,” he says. “We’re not your enemy, Rook.” Which is a load of horseshit, but for now the Seeds are all he has. Damn.
Rook bites his tongue from any more attempts to antagonize John. At least until his family leaves. There just isn’t a lot else to do at the ranch. “Okay, you’re right.”
“Guess he’s not an idiot after all,” Jacob mutters, collecting the empty plates and leaving for the kitchen. There’s the sound of water and the clink of ceramic and Rook realises that Jacob is washing the dishes.
Rook cranes his neck, trying to see it. He can’t even conjure up a fucking picture. The Seeds aren’t supposed to do normal people things, they’re just meant to exist menacingly while preaching about the end of the world. This is the weirdest thing that’s happened in Hope County yet and he can’t see it. He’s halfway out of his chair when Joseph speaks again, clearly aware of what’s going on in Rook’s head.
“Would you happen to know what was in the formula?”
It could be a dozen different things that he’s been asked to get over the last week alone. From tree sap to fish bladders, Rook has delivered on all of it. “Maybe?” No telling which things were used or what ingredients Lindsey already had on hand than Rook wasn’t told about. “Right before he asked me to test the first batch Lindsey had me bring him some frogs.”
“Frogs?” Faith asks.
Rook shrugs. It wasn’t really a big deal at the time so he didn’t bother to ask.
“Is there anything else that you may know?” Joseph’s eyebrows are almost imperceptibly pinched. Like he’s growing desperate and frustrated, but doesn’t want anyone to know. Well, if Rook noticed his siblings sure as hell have.
“No,” Rook lies. It’s a bad call, he knows it’s a bad call, but he can’t give up the one place he’s kept secret from everyone. A small, broken down camper right at the edge of the valley where Rook can get some rest without anyone finding him, or hunting him, or demanding his time and energy. He’s not ready to give that up, especially not to the Seeds.
After he’s spilled the first batch of the test neutralizer, he’d gone back there to change. Leaving behind both the soiled clothes and the not quite empty bottle. He’ll just… sneak out later and retrieve it. The Seeds won’t need to know a damn thing about where Rook goes to get away from all of this.
“Allright,” Joseph says, standing. “We will do what we can, for now.”
Faith stands too, Following after Joseph. “You’ll see,” she whispers, brushing her fingers along Rook’s arm, “what we can do together.”
“You’re lying,” John hisses as soon as they’re alone.
“I am not.”
“You are. You’re hiding something from us.”
Rook is tired. “And if I am, what will you do about it? Want to carve liar into me, John?”
“You made us the enemy,” John says. “We would have accepted you without condition. This was your choice.” He leaves the same way Joseph and Faith did.
“Fuck.” Rook hates this. Everything he touch breaks and he’s starting to wear thin. Physically, emotionally. He fucking feels bad for pissing off John again.
Jacob is standing in in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest. Shirt pulled tight across muscles that could probably rip Rook’s head from his shoulders.
So Rook doesn’t say anything to the condescending amusement playing over Jacob’s face. Because first of all he’s not a child and he does know how to control himself, but mostly because the Seeds are still very dangerous people. Even if they want to work with him right now That doesn’t mean things won’t go back to normal as soon as this gets cleared up.
Rook goes back to his room angry and frustrated at this entire situation, but mostly at himself.
*
In the morning Rook wakes up for the second time in as many days in John Seed’s house. At the very least he was in a bed this time, but maybe that makes it worse. Because it’s a nice bed and Rook slept like the dead. No concern at all for the other occupants of the house or the fact that there were Peggies right outside. All he did was lock the door, fall into the bed, and sleep. It might have even been the best night’s rest he’s had in months.
Who could have known that the secret to not starting every day more tired than the last was to screw over everyone else.
Actually, that makes an unfortunate kind of sense.
“Rook? Are you awake?” Joseph knocks on the door and he briefly considers pretending that he’s not.
But he has to at least try to get along. And Joseph is somehow the least likely to make him regret unlocking the door. Much as it is literally all his fault in the first place. Leader of the cult and all. “Yeah, hold on,” Rook calls, sliding out of bed and back into the pajama pants. The door unlocks with a click.
“Did you get enough sleep?” Joseph asks, genuine concern in his voice. It’s always unnerving how he does seem to actually care about people. Some people. A small group that Rook has been included in for months with or without his consent.
“I did, yeah.” Rook eyes the dufflebag Joseph is holding. “Do you want to come in?”
“No,” Joseph says. “Faith and I will be leaving for the conservatory. We’re hoping to find answers there before matters get any worse.”
“Have they gotten worse?”
Joseph’s mouth pulls tight. “For now it’s nothing we can’t handle.”
“Joseph—“
“Rook,” Joseph says, reaching out to place a hand on his neck. “I do not blame you for doing what you believed was right.”
That somehow does make Rook feel a little better. At least there is one person who doesn’t blame him, even if Rook blames himself. “Thank you,” he says sincerely.
“Here.” Joseph holds up the duffle bag. “John asked me to bring these for you.”
It’s full of clothes. Not Rook’s clothes specifically, but his size nonetheless. And his leather jacket is folded on top. “How did you—“
“John guessed your size,” Joseph says. “And as for the jacket I believe it was one of John’s guards who had taken it.”
Rook is at a complete loss for words. So far Rook has been an asshole to John every chance he gets and John has given him protection from his own people, a place to stay, and now clothes to wear. “Thank you,” he says. “For bringing this.”
Joseph places a hand over his where he’s gripping the straps of the bag. “You should thank John. I know how he can be, but he does have a good heart. Sometimes he just has trouble showing it.”
“I’ll…” Rook sighs. “I’ll thank him when I see him.”
“Please do,” Joseph says, stepping back. “Jacob will be staying here as well. Most of his people are—“
“Too brainwashed to be brainwashed?”
“I know that you disagree with our methods, but I ask that for now you try to understand that we are working together.”
If Rook can keep his damn mouth shut maybe he can avoid pissing off Joseph as well as John. “Yes, you’re right. I’m sorry, it’s just… this situation is getting to me.”
“That is understandable. I do hope we can find a solution quickly,” Joseph says, turning to leave, but pausing just outside the door. He looks over his shoulder at Rook in quiet consideration. “I trust that whatever it is you’re planning to do won’t bring more trouble.” A thin smile plays over his lips. “We should be back in the morning.”
Rook is left dumbfounded, not entirely sure if Joseph is simply extremely perceptive or somehow tapped in to his mind. Both options have horrifying implications for him currently and in the future. A lot of Rook’s plans rely pretty heavily on spontaneity coupled with the fact that no one in the cult has a single clue what he's up to.
He drops back to the bed, wondering if it would be worse if Joseph had simply learned how to read his tells.
*
Either John has disappeared or he’s been avoiding Rook all morning which he’s prepared to accept as a distinct possibility. At one point he does run into Jacob on the stairs, but loses his nerve to ask about John’s whereabouts before ever really trying. Rook wants to make some sort of amends with John, just not at the cost of engaging Jacob in conversation. Easily his least favorite Seed with his horror show music box, his nightmare murder maze, and his contrarily pleasant speaking voice.
All of the Seeds mess with his head in the strangest ways.
So what else is Rook to do but to give up on this task he wasn’t too eager to do in the first place. Oh well, that’s just something he will have to live with. And besides, there is another thing Rook has to do and now, when no one is around to stop him, is as good a time as any.
Rook’s gotten pretty skilled at sneaking into and out of places recently. Like since the helicopter crashed and took his sense of normalcy with it. And while John may have been prepared to keep Rook out there isn’t much in the way of keeping him in. Especially now that most of the guards have been locked away.
For Rook’s safety.
Damn. He really will have to apologise to John eventually.
He slips out of the house unnoticed and gets passed the property line without a single Peggie even suspecting he was outside. Though that may have less to do with Rook’s abilities than the sad fact that Peggies are easy to sneak by.
Getting all the way to the camper is a little more tricky. There isn’t a car nearby and while his hideaway is distressingly close to the ranch, it’s not all that close on foot. If Rook wants to be quick about this then his best bet is to start walking and hope he finds an ATV on the way. Those damn things are everywhere, more than even the wolverines that infest Hope County like a fucking epidemic. Little razor blades of hate and fur.
He walks about twenty minutes before coming to an abandoned ATV and in that entire time he hasn’t seen a single other person. Not one. Not so much as that sound of a car on the road. It’s the quietest the valley has ever been. At least since he’s been here. The air feels still, unnaturally so, like the county is just waiting for the next thing to happen.
Maybe leaving the relative safety of the house was a mistake.
But it’s too late to turn back and what Rook is getting may prove useful.
When he does finally get to the camper an overwhelming sense of relief washes over him. It’s not a home, Rook doesn’t have one here, but it’s the next best thing. He presses in on the broken lock in just the right way to make it release and swing open the door with a creak of rusted hinges. The inside is clean, however. After he’d first found the thing in the woods, clearly uncared for, he had taken the time to clean it up. Turn it into something livable.
Rook is almost tempted to curl up on the the thin mattress and take a nap just to feel like everything hasn’t slid further into Hell because of something he did. But he came here for a reason and the stillness of the valley has set his teeth on edge. It’s all wrong and he needs to fix it. He shoves his clothes into a plastic bag and searches around for the test bottle of neutralizer, unable to remember exactly where he left it.
The bottle has rolled under the one small table there is and Rook reaches for it at the same moment a car pulls up outside, freezing his blood in his veins.
The sound of footsteps over leaves and twigs has him scrambling for the emergency weapons cache he keeps in here. All those extra guns he never uses.
“Rook? Are you in there?” John calls from the other side of the door.
Rook stops loading up a shotgun, setting it down on the bed. Fuck. Fuck. All this work just to be followed. The one place he has for himself now part of John Seed’s knowledge. Part of him wants to wail at the unfairness of it all, but he understands a defeat when it happens. He took a risk and it failed.
“I would have thought I’d notice being followed,” Rook says, opening the door. Jacob is standing at the car, rifle in hand, watching the area with a clear paranoia that is maybe uncalled for.
John pushes past him into the camper. “That’s because you weren’t,” he says. “Did you think I didn’t know about this place? There are only so many times you can come and go from the same area before it becomes suspicious.”
“Then why did you never send anyone to get me?” Rook can’t believe that John wouldn’t use that knowledge to his advantage.
John’s eyes dart from him to the the bed and then settling on the bag with Rook’s dirty clothes. “You left my home alone, I decided to do the same.”
“It’s not my home,” Rook says and specifically does not mention that he had absolutely been planning to take the ranch for the resistance. One big fuck you to John Seed. “But thank you.”
John looks at him, and unreadable expression on his face. “Joseph believes that you are meant to join us.”
Rook is already keenly aware of what Joseph believes about him. “And what about you? What do you believe?”
“Joseph has a way of being right about things.” Which is not really an answer at all, but Rook isn’t going to press that particular point. “Why did you come here?”
“Thought I might have something that could help,” Rook says, holding up the plastic bag. “My clothes that I spilled the neutralizer on and, well, a bottle of the neutralizer itself. I was going to get it without you finding out about this place, but too late for that, I guess.”
“You thought that I would do something to your home if I knew about it?”
“It’s not my—“ Rook grits his teeth and reminds himself to stop being so antagonistic. “Yeah, that is what I thought.”
“I see,” John says, like Rook has said something hurtful. As if his opinions of the Seeds weren’t firmly based on their own actions. It’s not as though he just comes up with irrational reasons to dislike people. “It’s not safe here, we should leave.”
“What? What do you mean?”
“The situation has… escalated since this morning. Your Resistance has become more vocal about finding you.”
Which really doesn’t sound all that dangerous, so either John has a skewed concept of what’s safe or he’s holding back. Both options are likely. “Is that all?”
John hesitates, looking back out the door where Jacob is clearly listening but just as clearly uninterested. “Some have become violent,” he says. “Like those we locked in the bunker, but these people we can’t control.” John lowers his voice a little, a poor attempt to go truly unheard. “Jacob didn’t want you to know. He thinks you’ll do something stupid if you think your friends are in danger.”
Rook is definitely thinking of doing something stupid now that he knows his friends might be in danger.
Jacob sighs, loud enough to be heard over the distance between them. “What exactly do you think will happen to your friends if you go to them and trigger a reaction?” Every line of his face looks unhappy at the idea that he’s the one trying to prevent Rook from getting his friends hurt. “The best thing you can do for them is to keep your distance.”
“Fuck, okay. Fine.” Agreeing with Jacob Seed on anything is really going to haunt him for a long while.
“Now get in the damn car,” Jacob says.
Rook gets in the damn car, though he makes his displeasure at being told what to do loudly known.
“This is who the resistance have pinned their hopes on, huh,” Jacob mutters.
As much as Rook would like to sulk in the backseat, while John and Jacob’s attentions are focused elsewhere, he knows he’s acting much like a petulant child. He knows it, he just doesn’t know how to stop. For once he can’t blame the Seeds for everything and he’s kind of forgotten how to exist any other way. A world made black and white, us versus them, has distorted his perception of how to just be a person.
Things were a lot easier when he didn’t have to face the consequences of his own actions.
The only sound in the car is the Peggie radio station playing their annoyingly catchy devotion. More than once Rook has caught one of their songs stuck in his own head, a side effect of spending so much of his time in Peggie controlled areas. But it’s a little weird to sit there listening to a more stainless version of Joseph’s life with his brothers who must know how it all really happened.
Rook is almost tempted to ask about it, reluctantly curious in spite of himself, but the song ends and turns over to the next. The melody of Jacob’s theme fills the air.
Jacob grunts and shuts the radio off while John huffs amusement. Not exactly the answer to the question Rook had, but an answer nonetheless.
But now the car is silent and that’s somehow worse.
“Are you—“ John starts, gazing at Rook in the sideview mirror. “Is there anything you need?”
“No, the clothes were… thank you. And for getting my jacket back.”
“I wasn’t sure of your size—“
“No,” Rook says, “it was perfect.”
“I see.” John shifts in his seat to get a better view of him. “I’m glad.”
“John.” Jacob pulls one hand from the wheel and places it over John’s knee. Some silent communication that Rook has no hope of understanding, though it does have John turning back around.
“We are not your enemy,” John says quietly, repeating the cult’s favorite phrase in case there’s a chance that Rook will ever believe them.
Not likely.
Rook stares out the window and doesn’t answer.