Chapter Text
There was something distinctly chilling about being in the Whitetails at dusk. The air seemed to become thicker as the night drew closer. Everything becoming eerily silent, save for the crunching of leaves under your boots and the wind rustling through the tall pines above you. The many animals that would be seen during the day appeared to vanish with the setting sun. Something in the forest would shift, become darker, almost malevolent.
She's running, Boomer hot at her heels as something chases them through the undergrowth. A bone-chilling howl echoes off the mountains around them, coming from no discernible direction from what she can tell. Why are they being chased? Well, it all started when Eli convinced her that she should do a stake-out on the Veterans Center. A horrible decision, in hindsight. Aren't they all, though.
Apparently, there were rumors that Jacob was having the 'Judge Drug' tested on animals other than wolves. Eli thinks they may have created something they shouldn't have. A monster. Whatever it was, it must have escaped. People were being slaughtered, cultists and resistance members alike. Torn apart in ways they'd never seen before. She needed to find out what the creature was and whether or not they created more of them.
Everything was going well at first. If by well, she meant boring. Jacob wasn't even in his fortress, all she could see were a few Peggies moving supplies around.
By nightfall things became...strange. It started with the feeling of being watched. Swearing that she saw movement in the corner of her vision. Feeling like something was circling around them, staying in the darkness just out of her sight. Boomer growling at every snapping twig and moving bush. Catching the sight of a pair of antlers, and reassuring both Boomer and herself, “It's only a deer.”
Then came the pant-huffing sound that was awfully familiar. If only she had known what waited in the shadows, then they wouldn't have been in that situation to begin with. That's neither here nor there, however, what's done is done.
The fern branches swat at her thighs as she practically flies through them, panting from both exertion and mind numbing fear. She has no idea what's chasing them through the night and she doesn't feel like slowing down to find out. Whatever it was, it was heavy, trampling down everything in it's path.
As she sprints, the frigid air feels like needle pricks on her face. She isn't sure how much longer she can go for. Luckily, she can spot lights ahead of her. A cabin maybe? Relief floods her system at the thought. They can hide in there until morning. At least during the day they'll be on equal footing.
Definitely a cabin, she confirms once she's close enough. She hurries onto the porch and looks over her shoulder to see- nothing. Where's Boomer? She turns around fully and desperately searches the darkness in front of her, ears straining to hear the sound of paws hitting the frozen ground. She hears nothing except the wailing wind and the banging of the cabin's window shutters.
The icy grip of panic rises within her just as a scream pierces the air. Her head swings to the side, eyes wild. That sounded like a man. She's off the porch and running before she can even think about it, police training setting in. More pained wails echo around her, making the hair on the back of her neck stand. She curses, almost tripping over a tree root in her haste.
She finally stumbles into a clearing. She can barely make out a shape on the ground and warily comes closer. It's a body laying with it's back to her. Rook swallows and grabs the person's shoulder to roll them over.
She throws herself back with a gag at the sight. It's one of Jacob's soldiers, going by the red and black uniform and the Eden symbol. The man has a gaping hole in his chest where his lungs and heart should be and three deep claw marks on both sides of his head. The skin is ripped enough for the face to be completely unrecognizable. She feels bile starting to rise up and takes a shuddering breath in.
What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck.
Her ears register the sound of voices and she startles. Can't catch a fucking break tonight. The voices are steadily getting closer so she stands up on shaky legs to hide behind a tree. Three men rush into the clearing. One of them makes her suck in a breath. Jacob. He has two of his Chosen with him and they all look more than a little tense.
All of their weapons are drawn, two bows and a red hand gun. They go over and prod at the body. Both of the soldiers immediately start freaking out. All she hears from Jacob is a muttered, “Shit.”
Abruptly, Jacob rounds on his men, a disgusted scowl twisting his features. “You are soldiers! You will not stand here in front of me and whimper like children! Fear is for the weak.”
The last part is said in such a deep growl that she feels it in her chest. He stares his men down for a moment before adding, “It's just a goddamn bear. Pull yourselves together.”
She holds in a snort. A bear, Jacob. Really? Something tore that guys ribs open like a pair of cabinet doors and ate his organs! What kind of fucking bear did that?!
She is getting real sick of his Darwinist bullshit as well. Fear is what keeps you sharp. It keeps you from making stupid decisions that get you killed. Hypocritical asshole. She bets he didn't believe half the shit that came out of his own mouth.
Didn't he realize that he was creating killing machines? Soldiers that can murder children without hesitation. Impale men and women on the side of the road while they're still breathing. Listen to their begging and crying without so much as a wince. Yes, she's sure those soldiers will make great spouses/parents after the 'collapse'.
She contemplates whether or not she should run but quickly dismisses the thought. She's tired. Her lungs are still burning from earlier. There's no way she would be able to outrun all three of them. The best chance she has is to stay completely still until they- SNAP!
She glances down and sees a broken twig. Sweet mother of fucking Christ! All three men turn towards her in sync. It would be comical if her heart wasn't trying to escape through her chest. Confusion mars Jacob's face for a split second, then recognition sets in when his eyes find hers. She groans internally at having to run again. There's no way she was going back in that cage. What's up with him sticking people in dog kennels, anyway?...Maybe it's a kink.
She shakes that thought away and takes off towards the cabin at a break-neck speed. She doesn't even bother to see if she's being followed. It didn't matter because she hears Jacob yelling behind her.
“No! The two of you keep looking for the others. I'll handle this myself!”
The others? Some of his men are missing? This is turning into a nightmare. There's a man-eating monster hunting her. A Judge experiment gone wrong is also probably hunting her. To put a cherry on top of the shit-show sundae, she can't find her fucking dog either. She is so ready for the night to be over. Get to the cabin. She tells herself. Lock herself in and cross her fingers that whatever's out there takes care of Jacob for her. That's two regions she won't have to deal with anymore.
The memory of Faith's body floating face-down in the river shrouds her vision and she shakes her head to clear it. Faith made her choice. She was too far gone to accept help from anyone.
Afterward, she can remember Whitehorse squeezing her shoulder in that fatherly way of his.
“You can't save everyone, Rook.” He had soothed. “I know that you would try to save that whole family if you could.” She had scoffed. Save the Seeds? The thought alone was ridiculous. The Sheriff wouldn't be deterred, though.
“You can give me that look all you want but I know you.” Maybe he was right, to an extent. She can admit that much.
She would much rather arrest the brothers than be forced to kill them. Killing. It does something to people. Changes them. Most would think that just because you're killing horrible individuals that it would be easy. Wouldn't take a toll on you. She knows first-hand what bullshit that is. She's woken up far too many times in a cold-sweat, the slack faces of dead Peggies still flashing before her eyes.
Even now she runs instead of facing Jacob. Not because she's afraid of him. She is, but that's not the point. She runs because she knows that if he did tried to kill her she wouldn't have a choice. More blood to add to her hands. Another face to haunt her dreams. The image of Jacob dead before her with a bullet in his head brings no satisfaction. Only bitterness. How many people have to die, Joseph? Would he truly let her kill his whole family rather than stop this reign of terror? Something tells her that he would. He's too blinded by his own vision that he fails to see what is right in front of him.
Rook becomes increasingly unsettled by the fact that she can't hear Jacob behind her. She knows he's there, though. Can almost feel his stifling presence like a weight on her back. She can finally see the lights of the cabin in the distance and wills her burning legs to keep moving. She reaches the porch and flings herself to the top of the stairs. A large forearm loops around her middle. Damn, he's fast for a big guy.
She yelps as she's yanked back hard enough to throw her body to the cold packed ground. She lands on her back with the wind knocked out of her. There isn't much air in her lungs to begin with after all that running and her chest screams in protest. She wheezes while looking up at Jacob's face. He's seething. It was like the anger came off of him in waves.
Oh, boy. It seems like some of that careful control of his finally snapped. She also can't help but notice that, unlike her, he had barely broken a sweat. What is he, a Terminator or something? She blinks up at him, disbelievingly.
His hand goes for the gun strapped to his thigh and she doesn't hesitate. She kicks him hard in the knee and he falls with a pained grunt. She would try to run but he'd shoot her if she tried to get to the door. While he's down, she grabs his wrist, keeping the gun wielding hand away from her as she tackles him bodily onto his back. Her sweet moment of victory doesn't last long. His blue eyes are wide with cold fury and he snarls at her. Next thing she knows, the gun is dropped and she's being flipped.
A large hand pins her wrist to the forest floor, grip tight enough to bruise. Her breath leaves her in a huff. Rook reaches blindly in the direction the gun fell and he snatches that hand up and pins it down as well.
She becomes fully aware of the scene they must make. Her knees straddling his hips. His lower half pressing her into the ground. He has both of her hands pinned above her head while he looms above her. Their faces are barely a couple inches apart and she can feel the heat of him through her jeans.
Her neck flushes hotly, much to her annoyance. He smells like a goddamn forest fire. All smoke and pine. His eyes seemed to be searching hers for something and his drawling voice breaks the tense silence.
“What are you doing out here, Deputy?”
A question that she had been asking herself the whole night. The use of her title almost makes her roll her eyes. Most people say it out of respect. He manages to make it sound like he's humoring her. Like she's a child playing dress up instead of an actual police officer. She wills her voice not to waver as she answers.
“I thought I'd take a little late-night stroll. You know? Get some fresh air.” He's less than amused by her sarcasm. She risks a taunting smirk and his eyes narrow ever so slightly. She was treading very dangerously. Self-preservation? Never met her.
"A Stroll...This close to the Vet Center?" His head tilts. " Somehow I doubt that.” An imitation of a smile graces his lips. Then it's gone as if she'd imagined it.
She has to remind herself to breathe. If he can just not look at her so that she can actually think, that would be great. She wonders if he was always this intense or if he had perfected it over the years. She smiles inwardly at an image of a child with a mop of wavy red hair mean mugging anyone who dared look his way. She can admit to herself that out of the three brothers she found Jacob the most...interesting? That isn't really the right word. She's drawn to him in a way that she couldn't explain if she tried.
Did he just say something? She wasn't paying attention. Yeah, because you're still staring at his lips. She blinks and forces her eyes up. He's still watching her with a stony expression but now there's a strange glint in his eyes. Great, he noticed.
“Well?” He says.
“Well, what?” Fake it 'til you make it.
He fixes her with a hard stare and his voice crawls over her skin. “Were...you...spying?”
She doesn't say anything. She doesn't have to. A slow smile starts at the corners of his mouth, not reaching his eyes.
“Spying for Eli, huh? Well ain't that sweet. Maybe you were even planning to get your little buddy out too?” The smile fell. “Tell me, Darlin'. How's it feel to be the errand girl for the Whitetails?”
It's her turn to be angry. “I'm just doing my job.”
He huffs humorlessly. “Your job? Is it your job to run around looking for vinyls for a pimple-faced teenager?...No? Well, I'm sure you were just doing your job when you were watching me in the mornings, right?”
Her eyes widen and he chuckles darkly. “Yeah, I know about that.”
His weight presses down fuller on her abdomen and she swallows back a groan. “I also know that you've been spying on me for a good while...A few weeks in fact. Why is that, I wonder.”
His gaze turns calculating. She doesn't like the direction that this was heading. She can't even explain to herself why she kept coming back to watch him. This isn't the only time she had come by the Veteran Center. This is just the first time that she had been asked to. The real first time was around three weeks ago. She just wanted to confirm whether or not he actually lived there.
The next couple times were her trying to get up the nerve to just take him out. She could have. She had him right in the cross-hairs of her rifle. All she had to do was pull the trigger, but...she didn't. She just watched. Watched and soaked up information about the 'monster in the mountains'. And now there were two of them.
“Y'know-” He keeps talking conversationally, oblivious to her growing anxiety. “-if I didn't know any better I would almost think that you- Fuck!”
A furry blur slams into Jacob's side, knocking him off of her. She gasps and sits up. Boomer! Her dog has his mouth clamped on Jacob's pant-leg and is tugging viciously. Jacob growls and grabs hold of Boomer's collar, yanking him off and holding his snapping jaws at arms length. Her heart plummets when his hand reaches for the gun he dropped. She's faster, she snatches hers out of her holster and levels it at him.
“Shoot him and you die.” She threatens, voice calmer than she felt. Jacob looks at the gun in her hand as if he's debating whether or not she would actually take the shot. She would. She definitely would when it comes to those she loves.
He apparently comes to a decision. “Call him off and I won't have to.”
“Boomer! Leave it!” Her dog immediately lets go and turns to her, head cocked in confusion.
Another very furry and much larger shape slams into Boomer like a truck. The force sends her dog rolling to the other side of the yard, unmoving. She's too shocked to scream. A pungent sweetness fills her nose that she had come to associate with the smell of bliss. The creature is tall, eight feet on it's hind-legs at least. It's fur is mottled gray and white with course, long hairs. It's massive body is almost bear-shaped but sharper. Leaner, like it's starving. It swings its head around to look at them and her heart pounds in her ears. The head is huge like a bears but it has pointed ears instead of rounded. What the fuck did they make? A wolf-bear hybrid? It's milky- blissed out eyes watch them intelligently. Dread is settling heavy in her chest. This is it, this is how she dies. Thanks, Jake.
The creature takes half a step forward and is suddenly stumbling with the weight of something hitting it's back. The...Werebear? Swipes a hairy arm around with an inhuman roar, trying to get at whatever attacked it. Boomer jumps back snarling and snapping, avoiding the creatures clawed hands. Her brave boy launches himself at it, knocking both of them into the underbrush. She can hear the brutal sound of two predators fighting, then a series of loud yips. Rook shoots up like a bullet to help her dog and is grabbed around the waist before she can get farther than a couple feet. Jacob starts dragging her towards the cabin.
“Let me go, Sasquatch!”
She tries kicking him but he's ready and easily avoids it. He flings the cabin door open and harshly shoves her inside. She barely manages not to fall to the ground with the momentum.
After locking the door behind himself he whirls around to face her only for her to throw herself forward, causing both of them to stumble back. She's on the verge of a panic attack. She has to get outside. She has to help Boomer. That thing is going to kill her dog! Jacob spins her around and slams her into the door, head smacking against the wood with a 'thunk.' Stars swirl in her vision as he shouts at her.
“You're gonna get us both killed over fucking dog! A dog, deputy!" Tears fill her eyes and she blinks them away angrily. He isn't just a dog. He's her family.
She spits venomously, “Get out of my way, Seed.”
Jacob blinks and then barks a cruel laugh. “Fine. Be my guest, sweetheart. With you dead, that's one less thing for me to deal with.” His grin is mocking and she shoves down the urge to punch him.
He graciously lets her go and steps back. She promptly unlocks the door and pulls it open, taking off without a backwards glance. She can hear the door slam shut behind her. She stops when she gets to the treeline. What now?
She starts by looking in the direction that they were fighting in. She weaves through the trees and comes out at a gravel road. Her hand clenches when she notices a splash of crimson on the small rocks. That fucking...science experiment- hurt her dog. She follows the blood trail, intently searching the area around her.
She halts when she can't see anymore drops of blood. Only another small puddle of it. What? A drop of red falls into the puddle and she gasps. A low whine has her looking up. Her dog is in a tree. A fucking tree. Her stomach drops at the sight. He's, thankfully, still alive but he has a large gash on his flank. Did the Judge put him up there?!
She has no time to dwell on that terrifying thought. She has to act fast or her dog wasn't going to make it. She scurries up the branches and wraps an arm around him, settling him against her chest. Boomer keens in pain and she shushes him gently. She carefully maneuvers back down. As soon as her feet hit the ground she shoulders off her jacket and ties it around the dog, murmuring soothing things all the while. A tingle goes down her spine and she instinctively looks up. White eyes glow at her from the bushes.
A bears chuffling breaths has her pulse picking up, it's followed by a rumbling growl. It's a fucking trap! She tightens her arms around her dog and runs as fast as her legs would carry her. This creature is a lot smarter than she gave it credit for. It knew that she would come after her dog. It knew how to lure her out and corner her. Not today, demon bear. She soon has the cabin in her sights and she isn't letting anything stop her from getting there. She feels a claw rip the back of her shirt and can't stop the cry that leaves her mouth.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A gunshot rings out and she hears a snarl behind her. She looks over her shoulder quickly to see the creature lumbering back into the trees. She's surprised see Jacob on the cabin's porch. He has his handgun pointed at where the thing disappeared. She thought for sure that there would be a fight for him to let her back in the cabin. Instead he had actually saved her. He only did it because Joseph has 'plans for you.' She reminds herself bitterly.
“Get inside!” He orders her. Normally, she would have snapped at him for that. Now, though, she has other things to worry about.
She carries her dog through the door, barely hearing Jacob close it behind them. She sets her dog down the kitchen table and runs to the sink. She looks underneath for some kind of trauma kit. Hunting cabins like this one usually had one under there. A flash of red catches her eye and she grabs it. She finds a bottle of moonshine and takes that as well. Thank god for rednecks. She rushes back to the table Boomer is laying on. Her dog is struggling to get up and she pushes him down firmly but gently. His eyes are terrified. She rubs his neck and pressed her cheek against his.
“You're alright.” She soothes. “I've got you. But you need to hold still so I can do this.”
Her voice causes Boomer to settle slightly. His calm won't last long, she knew. She has to do this before she loses the nerve. Rook unties her blood soaked jacket and throws it to the side. With a deep breath she pops the top on the moonshine and pours a generous amount onto the wound. The effect is instantaneous.
Boomer starts thrashing in her grip, letting loose an agonized wail. Her throat closes and her heart clenches. Oh god, he will never forgive her. Tears stream freely down her face as she attempts to hold him down. The wound is deep. She needed to stitch it but she knows she can’t do it by herself. A scarred hand grabs her wrist, startling her. Jacob had come up behind her and she hadn't even heard him. Sneaky bastard.
“Stop. He's not going to let you stitch that. You're only gonna to get yourself bit.”
His condescension only pissed her off. “You got a better idea, asshole?” Instead of answering he pulls out a bliss dart, waving it in front of her face. Absolutely not.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“You're not turning my dog into a fucking judge, Seed!”
He sighs wearily as if he's dealing with a toddler. “It's only a sedative. It won't do that.”
Rook glares back defiantly, knowing that she didn't have another option. He was right. He knew it too because he didn't wait for her to answer. His hands are gentle as he sticks the dart into the cattle dogs side. Boomer had calmed down considerably while they argued. He was becoming too tired to fight and only twitched in response to the sting.
Jacob ran his large hands through Boomer's hair in a way that would be considered comforting. Holy shit. Jacob Seed likes dogs. The man in question is looking at her funny. Did I say that out loud?
“Who do you think trains all the dogs for the Project, deputy?...John?”
Rook snorts. Hah! Un-fucking-likely. John wouldn't sully his designer clothes with dog hair and dog drool. Jacobs lips twitch slightly before his walls are shoved back up.
“He's down. Should stay that way for an hour or two.”
Right. She rifles through the trauma kit for the stitching supplies. The Deputy attempts to prepare the needle at steadily as she can but her hands are shaking pretty badly. Fucking nerves.
“Ain't no wonder you got such shitty aim, let me do it.” He snatches the needle out of her hands before she can form a scathing retort.
He's quick and efficient. She'll give him that. She can't help but watch him silently as he works with a single minded focus. She winces in sympathy every time the needle goes through skin, glad her dog isn't awake for this.
Jacob Seed is an enigma. She doesn't know if she wants to kill him or fuck-not kill him. Just being here in the same room has her skin tingling in anticipation for a fight. The fact that he hadn't demanded that she give him her weapons hadn't escaped her notice. She can still kill him right here. Be done with all of it.
“That's as good as it's gonna get.” Jacob says, shaking her from her half-hearted plotting. “Lost a good bit of blood but he'll live.” He was done. She bends over to look at his work, her arm brushing Jacob's stomach. Something cold and hard suddenly presses against her temple and she freezes. Gun barrel.
“Your weapons, officer. If you don't mind.” Of course she fucking minds.
“Not a chance, Seed. How do I know you won't just kill me.”
“You don't think I've had numerous opportunities before this?”
He has a point there. He needs her alive, he had already said that much. A thought crosses her mind and she speaks without thinking. She really needs to see someone about that faulty brain-to-mouth filter.
“If you aren't going to kill me, what's stopping me from just taking out my gun and shooting you right here.”
Jacob presses his own gun harder against the side of her head in response and his voice sends a shiver down her spine. “If I have no choice but to defend myself, I'm sure Joe would understand.”
She gulps, weighing her options. There weren't many. She can hand over her weapons and stay in here with less-subtle Charles Manson or she can take her chances with the Friendly Neighborhood Judge outside. Fuck me. Better to stick with the devil she knows. She holds up a hand in surrender and pulls her gun out slowly so that he won't misinterpret her actions. He takes it and gestures towards her hip.
“The throwing knives, too. I know you got some so don't try to bullshit me.”
Damn, there goes her plans for stabbing him in his sleep. She hands those over as well. The rest of her weapons were left behind at the stake-out camp. He pulls his gun away from her head and walks off, presumably to find somewhere to hide her stuff. She watches him walk away sourly. Asshole.
She moves her dog from the table down to the rug underneath it. Now he wouldn't fall when he woke up, at least. She stands and mindlessly grabs the bottle of moonshine off the table, tossing back a mouthful without pause. Holy shit, that burns!
She lapses into a coughing fit that has Jacob coming back into the room. He smothers what could have passed as a laugh. A genuine one that has her flushing in embarrassment.
“Give me that. You ain’t old enough.” He snags it out of her hands while she gapes. Ex-fucking-scuse me? His next comment has her nearly choking again. “Your mom ever teach you not to touch other people's things?”
What?! She looks closer around the cabin. The wolf pelts on the bed across the room. The military memorabilia. The crackling fire in the, frankly, luxurious fireplace. The hardwood floors. The familiar family portrait above the mantle. Shit, there was an 'honest to god', bear skin rug right out of a cheesy lumberjack porno. This wasn't just a convenient hunting cabin that she stumbled upon. This was Jacob Seed's hunting cabin.
She watches Jacob take a swig of the bottle in his hands. He must have taken off his military jacket at some point. He's wearing a gray t-shirt that fits his form well. She scowls.
“Isn't there some kind of cult ban on that stuff?”
Jacob shrugs. “That's why I only drink it here.” The slight smirk he sends her makes her stomach flutter. Down girl.
“'Sides, what Joseph don't know won't hurt him.”
This was getting into awfully flirty territory where she was concerned. Did he hit his head at some point or something? She reaches out for the bottle and he pulls it out of her reach.
“You ain't learned your lesson the first time, Honey?” She wants to wipe that self-satisfied smirk right off his scarred face. He's only distracting her from the shit show they just went through.
“You wanna tell me what the hell that thing was, Seed? Or are we just gonna pretend I didn't see it?”
He looks like he would very much like her to drop the subject, body lining up with tension. "Bear, probably. It ain't nothin' you need to worry your pretty little head about." Probably!?
“What the fuck does that mean!?”
He doesn't answer. She shoves him and he barely budges, making her angrier. "You know what? Fuck you! I almost died tonight. My dog almost died tonight. I deserve to know what that thing is!"
She's panting, hand still on his chest where she pushed him. His chest is hot under her palm and she can feel it rise and fall with his breathing. He looks like he's at war with himself, trying to get control of something inside him.
A deep sigh makes his beard shift. His eyes close and he grudgingly admits, “I don't know what it is. I had my scientists start making new Judges out of other predators. Figured they'd be stronger. Bears. Cougars.” He tapped the table with his fingers, something she'd seen John do as well. Nervous habit. “Next thing I know, I get a call in the middle of the night. One of the new Judges escaped.” He waves a hand. “Slaughtered it's way right out of the lab.”
Making Judges was obviously not all they were doing. They must have been messing with something right under Jacob's nose. But why?
“You saw that thing, same as I did." She says. "I've seen enough bears in my life to know, that definitely wasn't one.” She took a breath. “D'you think they were messing with genes? Dna and stuff?”
A lengthy pause. “It's possible.”
She scoffs. 'Possible', he says. "You really expect me to believe they made this thing without you knowing about it?”
“I expect you, to stay the fuck out of my affairs, but here we are.”
She has to laugh. Is he serious? “Your Affair is eating people! My people! You're making your business my business!”
Jacob's face twitches in irritation. “I'm handling it.”
She manages to snatch the bottle from his hands this time and takes another drink. Her lip curls in disgust but she soldiers on. “You call this-,” She gestures with the bottle around the cabin they're hiding in, “-Handling it?!” Jacob remains unfazed.
“I have four patrols tracking-”
“Four dead patrols, maybe.” She quips, causing his jaw to clench.
She sighs and removes the hand that was still on his chest for some reason.
“Look,” she starts. “I don't know why you wont admit you fucked up royally, and honestly, I don't care. Bottom line? Whatever the hell you guys made is out there murdering citizens. We need to come up with a game plan or something because, clearly-” She leans in closer to his face. “You can't handle it by yourself, Seed.”
...Was that too far? That may have been too far. You really want to die tonight, don't ya, Rook.