Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Time seemed to stop when the news came. The Deputy, Rook, was dead. The world might as well have ended right then and there. What story continues on without its hero? A story in which Staci was now trapped in, the pages endlessly blank as they turn.

The men and women of the Veteran's Centre cheer and celebrate. Jacob looked proud, if a bit miffed that he hadn't been the one to take down Rook. No, that honor and fault was John's, after having chased Rook off of a cliff. Granted, it hadn't been the Baptist's intention to do so, and Joseph had been disappointed in such an outcome. But the brother was forgiven, and the Father of Eden's Gate told them all to continue on. To prepare for the Collapse, as it was still coming.

The minor setback didn't stop Jacob from boasting, leaning close to Staci's ear, as he stood still. Staci's eyes stared far off into the distance, looking at nothing. He appeared truly haunted, unflinching as Jacob spoke.

“The herd has been culled, all is how it should be. The weak have been eliminated. Maybe you'll be next.” he hums, although there is now real threat to his words. Just a reminder, that if someone like Rook could be taken down, Staci didn't stand a chance. Staci doesn't answer him, still in a state of going through the motions. Nothing matters anymore. He's already dead. Maybe he died when the helicopter came down in a blaze.

Jacob seems bothered by his lack of a reaction, but ultimately shrugs it off. Allows him to grieve. He can permit a bit of mercy, after all it is a day of celebration. Which is why he also allows Staci to leave, as he heads to the room he has been occupying. The merriment becomes foggy in his ears, like he is underwater, drowning away once he shuts the door behind himself. He lets himself collapse back, sliding down against the cool steel surface, to hold himself tightly. His body shivers as he takes in a shaky breath, allowing himself to sob.
“Rook… I'm so sorry. I was too weak” he cries, shaking and heaving. He thinks of Rook's confident smile, unable to believe it's truly gone. One of the things that had kept him sane was believing he'd one day see it again.

Rook, his coworker, his friend, the guy who honestly could make you feel like you mattered. The only one who would be able to save them. The poster boy of a hero, a legend. Gone.

He lets himself cry, away from prying eyes and mocking sneers. Away from where Jacob could see him, coo at him with a malicious grin. He'd comfort him, but not in earnest. Pet his hair like he's a dog, shush him quietly with a ‘it's alright, Peaches. I'm all you have left’. He doesn't need to hear it. He doesn't want to. Because a part of him would believe him, and he won't allow that.

Something broke in Staci that night. Something inside him died. He's been weak but now he actually felt it. Was ashamed of it. It's ironic that despite all of Jacob's trials, it was Rook's death that made him truly wash away all the fear. He'll be the perfect soldier now, but not because of Jacob. Because of Rook.

He wishes to fight. And honestly, not because it is the right thing to do. Not because of the Resistance. He just… wants to take down everything. Burn it all. Wants to live in peace amongst the ashes. For Rook's memory… he's willing to try. Lifting up his head from his arms, staring angrily into the darkness, cheeks stained with his tears. He would be patient. Slowly build himself up, while making sure he doesn't raise suspicion.

He'll be the meek and quiet Staci Pratt, trying to stay out of the way, keep himself small. Beaten down to be loyal, while hiding these newfound fangs. He'll be good. But you can't keep a wild animal caged for long.

----------

Staci keeps up the routine and charade, perhaps a bit more broken than jittery and nervous. He hasn't stepped out of line, and if he makes a mistake, he quietly gives a ‘Sorry, sir. Won't happen again’. He still behaves flustered and scurries when the peggies jeer at him, asking him who he's gonna cry out for now that Rook is gone. If he could, he wouldn't hesitate on breaking their nose and stabbing them in the gut with their own knife. He wouldn't even flinch. But for now, he'll behave.

Jacob has noticed his shift, although Staci doesn't think he's aware of how far he's changed. Staci has been careful with his crafted image. Let him believe his spirit is crushed. The trials are slightly more difficult than before. In a whole different way. He fights and shoots the hallucinated soldiers within the fever dream that Jacob Seed has constructed. He's gotten faster, because he doesn't hesitate anymore. He's not quite sure how to feel about it, and that is what makes it harder.

After returning to the conscious world, he's sweaty and rattled. He is strapped down to a chair, with Jacob seed standing in front of him, arms crossed. Studying him.
The moment he remembers where he truly is, he takes on the weak persona he's cultivated. He doesn't meet Jacob's eyes, swallowing dry and trying to sit up straight.

“You did well, this time. You have been improving.” Jacob comments approvingly, although there is a curiosity behind it. Staci does his best to look as meek as he can, nodding his head.
“Thank you, sir.” he answers, well aware of how Jacob always expects one.

To his surprise however, Jacob takes his chin, not with brute force, but stoic and firm, as he lifts Staci's gaze up to meet him.
“You've been awfully quiet lately, Pratt. I wouldn't mind if it didn't feel like I'm being followed around by a ghost. I need strong soldiers, not cannon fodder.” Jacob states, with a raised brow, not letting go of his chin. A part of him panics inside, wondering if Jacob saw through his ruse and is testing him.

He keeps that panic at bay, his throat feeling dry.
“I-... I apologise, sir. I just… don't have much to say.” he replies, in a way which isn't far from the truth. Jacob chuckles, seemingly finding something amusing about it.
“Not like I really have you around for conversations. Still, try not to look like someone kicked your puppy, or I might have to double your trials. That'll keep you active, won't it?” he lets go of his chin. The grin Jacob gives him has too much of an edge to it, trying to scare him. Staci lowers his gaze down, like a whimpering dog. Plays his part.
“Yes sir…”

----------

Early winter has arrived.

It's almost like a miracle how the perfect opportunity fell onto his lap. With Jacob elsewhere, attending to some outpost, and leaving Staci behind to oversee things. He's been around enough, gained some length to his leash. An obedient dog guarding the home for its master. But Staci is no dog.

Jacob being away isn't enough of a reason for him to leave. The one element on his side is the weather.
A snowstorm.

A weather that keeps the peggies busy, distracted. No one wants to be caught outside, and no one thinks anyone is crazy enough to go out willingly into it. But Staci lost his sanity a long time ago. And a snowstorm is perfect to cover up his tracks, buy himself some time.

He starts off the day with the usual routine. Waking up, walking around the facility with a clipboard, taking notes as he's accompanied by a guard in lieu of Jacob's absence. He mentions needing to visit the supply room to take down the stock for Jacob. The guard doesn't even blink, opening up the door and letting Staci in. Even though Jacob never ordered him to do so. He wears a bored expression as he goes through everything, writing it down, while mentally taking note of what he'll need for himself. After exiting, he continues on with the day.

He keeps it up until nightfall, as he's being escorted to his room. He turns to the guard handing over the clipboard so that he can take it to Jacob's room, as is usual. But as soon as the guard turns his back, mentally expecting Staci to go into his room for the night, his mouth is covered. And before he can react, the pen Staci had been using all day is jammed right into his throat. With the shock of it all, he manages to pull the guard into his room before he spills blood in the hallway. Holds him tight, as he spasms and tries to break free, but soon stops fighting, fading away.

Staci drops him down, picking up the clipboard and closes the door behind them. While he's not happy about killing someone, he doesn't allow himself to worry.
Not even as he mutters “You were too weak” at the lifeless body. He can't think about what that says about himself. He doesn't have time.

He goes through the pockets quickly to get the keys. He grabs his hand gun, knowing that while he won't be using it now, it's good for later. Finally, he takes the coat he's wearing. It's a bit big, but he'll need all the cover he can get. And now comes the hard part.

Inhaling and exhaling as he's facing the door, trying to calm his nerves. He can feel his heart pumping, but knows it's already too late for him to regret his decision.
He opens the door, keeping a clear mindset about following his path. He has a few close calls with some wandering peggies, but most have retired for the night, so the halls are empty. He gets to the supply room eventually, packing up the essentials into one of the backpacks. He's gone hiking before, but never has he had to concentrate so hard on packing things in order to survive.

Once he gets the backpack on himself, it's time for the last piece of the plan.
The absolute distraction. He calmly takes a lighter, burning up some of the more flammable things left in the supply room. It feels cathartic to see the flames slowly growing, enveloping the shelves. It almost makes him want to stay and be engulfed by it as well.
“Fuck you Jacob.” Staci mumbles to himself, satisfied with his farewell present. And then the fire alarm begins blaring. Right on time.

Staci makes a hasty run out of the room, and into the hallways as the facility begins to be filled with shouts and confusion. As he hears footsteps approaching, he shucks off the backpack behind some crates, running up to the peggies.
“The storage room is on fire! Get buckets and fill them with snow! Hurry!” he barks orders, and in the midst of chaos the peggies don't question him, following his directions.
No one even noticed Staci wearing a coat that was a size too big for him.

Once they're distracted, Staci grabs his backpack again, making his way to a side exit, unlocking it with the keys. The cool air and snow feels absolutely refreshing, Staci taking a moment to savour it. He can still hear voices yelling over the alarm, everyone now awake yet so oblivious about Staci's involvement. It's almost a shame that he won't be seeing Jacob's face once he realizes what he has done.

He hops the fence, with no one there to spot him doing so, and lands into the fresh snow. Its hard to see in the storm, but he knows the way into the forest. Though before leaving he flings the keys somewhere opposite of his direction. A last fuck you, doubting they'll find the keys for awhile. Maybe in the spring.

For now, Staci is a free man, even as he traverses into the woods, knowing he can't stop. His pace may be slow, but he has to keep going. Keep creating distance. Get as far as he fucking can. He keeps moving, wading through the snow, shielding his face from the storm. He might die out here but better here than in a cage. Better as a free man than an obedient dog. It's the least he can do for Rook.

The storm eventually dies out, Staci feeling absolutely exhausted, and lost as he's simply kept moving ahead. He only knows for how long once the sun begins to rise. It feels almost magical, seeing the light hitting the snow. Makes him forget all the horror and heartache he's felt. Even if it is only for this moment, this moment belongs to him alone.

----------

After a few days, his radio came to life, startling him. Even with this distance, hearing Jacob's voice sets his nerves on edge.

“There are men in this world, who do not know their place.” There's a tension to Jacob's voice. As if he's keeping down something dangerous, his tone low and intimidating. Staci feels his breath hitch, as he slowly turns up the volume of his radio, unable to do anything but listen.

“They deny their purpose, fight against the inevitable. Dogs who bite hands that feed it, get put down. Would be a shame to do so. Even a disobedient dog can be taught to heel. As long as it's willing to come home. Willing to submit.” He feels his heart racing in his chest, frozen in place. He exhales, reminding himself that Jacob isn't there. That he's far away. He has a head start. Has a chance to be free. He keeps telling himself that, even after Jacob ends his broadcast with “Come back home, Peaches. It's where you belong.”

----------

Surviving in the wilderness wasn't going to be easy, he was already plenty aware of it. It didn't help with how paranoid he felt. Looking over his shoulders, expecting Jacob to suddenly be there. He took short rests, trying to make sure he left little behind.

He takes shelter in caves, and ones he makes with a tarp. He doesn't dare to use any cabins he comes across. They could be marked on a map and be checked by peggies. He doesn't get the luxury of living comfortably. Right now all he has to do is survive. Survive the elements, the wildlife… Jacob.

As he's in another small cave, the radio perks up again, this time Staci is too tired to even be startled by it.

“I will admit. What you did was… resourceful. Cowardly, but resourceful. And now, you've managed to stay away the longest time for yourself. Remember during the first days, when I let you try your luck? Let you ‘escape’, by giving you a 10 minute head start?” Jacob speaks with such a smooth and assured tone, as if he and Staci were having a casual conversation. Staci recalls that day. When he was still scared for his life, running until his lungs burned, desperate to escape.
“Remember how it took me less than 10 minutes to drag you back?” He does. It hurts his ego, even if he should know better. “This time, it's been longer. But eventually, I will find you. I will drag you back, kicking and screaming. I will put you in your place, remind you where you belong. You can't run forever, Peaches. I will always find you.”

Staci sits there in silence, leaning his head back against the rock wall of the cave. Jacob’s words echoing in his mind, as he closes his eyes to let himself sleep.

----------

After weeks, Staci receives the final broadcast from Jacob, as he's sitting on the edge of a cliff, admiring the snowy landscape. He's calm as he turns up the radio, not taking his eyes away from the scenery.

“The weak can not survive without the strong. They have their place, their purpose, but if they do not follow it, they perish. An iron hand is needed, in order to keep the world from spiraling into madness. To make sure what survives will be strong enough to continue living. You will serve no purpose believing your freedom will provide you sanctuary.’’ Jacob’s voice this time is calm and direct. It’s impersonal, providing no familiarity, only being factual. Yet there was something desperate about it.

What Staci does next is stupid. Reckless. But he is absolutely serene at that moment, stoically picking up the radio, turning it on from his end. He's letting him know he's still within reach of the broadcast signal. But he speaks nonetheless.
“Jacob.” There's a moment of continued silence, before an answer crackles back. “Where are you?”

Staci can't help but smirk for a bit. At how low and forceful Jacob is as he asks him that, no, demands to know. There is an unspoken threat to his tone.
He gives a pause, just enough to annoy Jacob a bit, before he answers.
“Where you'll never find me. Where no one will. You say I'm weak, and… maybe I am. But, I don't need anyone anymore. I don't need you.” It's strange, he's never talked so calmly to Jacob before. He had barely ever talked to him to begin with. And now there is such ease to his words, and he doesn't feel afraid. He feels…. Liberated.

“Good bye, Jacob.” he ends his call, and chucks the radio down the cliff, not caring to hear Jacob's response. After all, he already said it. He doesn't need him anymore.

He stands up, picking up his rifle, humming ‘Only You’ to himself as he goes off to find himself something to hunt.

Chapter Text

As spring arrives in Hope County, the snow is melting away and Staci has grown a decent beard for himself. It's thicker and fuller in comparison to how it was before. He had attempted to shave it down on occasion, but let it be eventually after finding it not worth the effort. Besides, it kept his face warm throughout the winter. His hair is much longer now, which has been more of a hindrance, having to tie it back to keep out of the way. Strands still seem to always find a way to fall out.

He's not always been so lucky during his hunts and scavenging, but when it came to how often he ate, it had been more or less similar to his time at the Veterans Center. At least out here if he went hungry it was because he had failed to catch something, instead of someone cruelly starving him on purpose.

One time he had even managed to take down an entire bear. It had been a close call, the scars on his arm now a constant reminder, and he did his best to avoid any other future encounters with them. He became more efficient as time went on, improving his skills every day. He can feel himself having grown stronger. No longer was he just surviving, he was thriving.

And now he's eager to get back to working on continuing Rook's legacy.

He hadn't gotten in contact with the Resistance or… anyone really. It had been a lonely winter, but Staci kept being too paranoid about getting involved. It was better for him to lay low, gather his strength. He's still a bit hesitant, but hiding out in the wilderness was getting old.

Which is why he ransacks and stays in an abandoned cabin finally. He allows himself to take comfort in an intact shelter, and to get cleaned properly in a shower. Water and a washcloth does the trick most times but nothing beats a warm shower. He could honestly cry from happiness as he stood beneath the spray.

Not to mention the canned food he finds in the cabinets. Rabbit meat tastes better but not having to skin and cut his food is an unappreciated commodity. He also finds some cigarettes in one of the drawers. They’re old but they’ll do. He had initially quit smoking back when he became a Deputy, but things obviously changed. It just felt comforting to take a drag of smoke. It was mundane and ordinary, and such a feeling was rare in the world he lived in.

He stays the night there, allowing himself to enjoy the comfort of the mattress. He doesn’t allow himself to get too cozy, a loaded gun resting next to his hand. His mind rarely could quiet down when he awaited sleep in silence. Too often would he think back to Jacob, whether it was the physical or psychological torture he had endured. Thinking about those blue eyes that would pierce his soul, always being the last thing he would imagine. Perhaps because he had convinced himself they would be the last thing he ever saw before his death.

He sleeps through the night without any incident, and heads out once the sun begins to rise.

----------

He leaves the familiarity of the wilderness to make his way back towards civilization. He isn’t sure what he’ll find honestly. For all he knows he could be the last person alive anymore. He pushes down such daunting thoughts, assuring himself that he’s seen aircrafts flying above him from time to time.

When he's near a lake, his prayers are answered by the raised voices he hears. Which also means he goes into high alert, crouching down as he sneaks to investigate. He spots what seems like two peggies at a dock, hovering over someone on their knees while tied up. Staci moves in a bit closer, hiding behind a tree.

“Please- I don't know anything-” The kneeling man's words are cut off by a punch to the face. With the way he was looking, it clearly hadn’t been the first strike either.
‘’Shut up you heathen scum! We know you’ve been moving fuel between places. You sinners do not deserve resources that rightfully belong to the Father. Now tell us where you’ve been getting it from.’’ The peggy threatens, holding the man by the collar of his sweater.

Staci takes the moment to take out his hunting rifle, moving slowly to not be noticed. When he checks, he sees he's got five bullets left. It’s the best he could have considering how sparing he had been about using them.

Perhaps for this situation, he can be less sparing.

The deputy loads the rifle, taking a better stance to keep himself steady. He looks through the scope, aiming at the peggy standing a bit further from the other two. The gunshot silences the shouting, the peggy collapsing dead as he bleeds from his skull.
‘’What the fuck-’’ his companion reacts immediately, taking out his own gun.

The man isn’t smart enough to get to cover, or even take the civilian as a hostage. It makes Staci huff with distaste. What a waste of air. He takes his aim and shoots, taking down the other peggy.

It had been quick and easy, but Staci doesn’t disregard the situation completely. Mistakes can always happen, and things can turn instantly against him. He’ll keep reminding himself that, in order not to find himself getting eaten alive by the wolves of this world. He can’t let his guard down.

Which is why for a moment he's tempted to just leave immediately, but his conscience convinces him enough to go over to the poor man. The civilian is surprised to see Staci coming from the woods, relieved once the ropes binding his wrists are cut.

He places the rifle to his back with its holster, standing there awkwardly for a moment. This was the first person he has spoken to in months after all. He's a bit out of practice.
“You alright?” he asks, his voice slightly hoarse from not using it.
“Y-Yeah, thanks for saving me. Thought I was done for.” The man nods his head, still quite shaken up by the ordeal. He’s beaten up a fair bit, but his injuries didn’t look too concerning. Staci silently takes out his map, unfolding and holding it out to the man.
“Mind pointing out where we are exactly?” He questions. Keeping track of his exact whereabouts has been difficult while living in the wilderness and walking around so much. The other man seems confused by this request but points out where they are currently. He's further out than he thought. No longer in Jacob’s territory.

He puts the map away, considering his options for a moment. He takes out his pack of old cigarettes, offering one to the man who politely declines with just a slight shake of his head.

“Fall’s End. Is it still held by the Resistance?” Staci asks next, placing the cigarette between his lips and lights the end.
“Huh? Uh… Yeah, barely. You've been gone or something?” The man asks, regarding Staci's demeanor. He takes in a lungful of smoke, using it as an excuse to consider his words more carefully. He's not sure how much he should be sharing quite yet.
“Or something.” Is what he ends up with, and thankfully the man doesn't question him any further about it.

Staci helps out a bit more by carrying canisters of fuel to the man's truck, tying down a tarp over the precious cargo.
“I can give you a lift if you want.” The man offers, pointing his thumb back at the vehicle.
Staci thinks it over, but ends up shaking his head after a second. He's been alone for too long and sitting in a truck with a stranger seemed too exhausting for him. “Thanks but I'll get there on my own.”

“You sure?” The man pushes slightly, genuinely wanting to help Staci out. But when he receives another dismissal, he nods and turns to his truck to grab something from his backpack.
“Well, take this with you. Ain't much but it's the least I can do.” The man insists, handing over a can to Staci. He turns it in his hand, glancing at the label. Canned Peaches.

He lets out an amused huff.

----------

It takes him a few days to get to Fall's End. It was strange seeing the place he grew up in looking so desolate and war torn. A barricade was the newest addition, blocking access to most of the surrounding roads. He calmly walks in the middle of the asphalt pavement, raising his hands up once he's spotted by patrolling locals. Aiming their own rifles in caution, they call out orders to him, which Staci follows in compliance. He gets down to his knees, placing his hands to the back of his head, as he waits for them to approach him.

The two guards don't get far in their questioning, before a familiar voice speaks up behind them. “Holy shit… Staci?!”

When they look over to the voice, Staci is surprised to see Deputy Joey Hudson, and even more so when Sheriff Earl Whitehorse himself is not far behind her. They both looked utterly shocked and stunned, staring at him as if they're seeing a ghost. Hudson has newer scars on her face, and Whitehorse while looking regal as ever, has clear signs of sleepless nights.

He dares to slowly stand back up, as Hudson approaches him, Staci giving her an exhausted yet sheepish smile.
“Hey Joey.” He barely gets the words out before she jumps in with a sudden and tight hug. He lets out a shaky breath, his weary bones knowing it had been so long since he had hugged anyone.

She eases up after a moment, stepping back with her hands still holding his arms, as if afraid of letting him go. She's smiling painfully, shaking her head with overwhelming emotions. She wipes the tears forming in her eyes.
“Holy shit- I can't believe my goddamn eyes. Look at you. You're here alive and you have a full grown fucking beard.” Her laugh, despite being broken, felt so good to hear. It made him realize how much he had actually missed her.

“How about we continue this discussion inside.” Whitehorse steps in, as pleased as Hudson was, although much better at keeping his composure. He pats Staci's shoulder as they walk, giving it a firm yet friendly squeeze.
“I'm happy to see you again, Deputy Pratt.” He tells him with a genuine smile, Staci returning the gesture.
“Happy to be here, Sheriff.”

----------

“So, you've been living out in the woods for months, surviving on scavenging and hunting. You gone full Bear Grylls there, Stace?” Hudson teases, nudging him with her elbow as they sit at the bar counter of the Spread Eagle. Staci huffs bashfully, shrugging his shoulders.
“Yeah well, managed to avoid drinking my own piss so there's that.” It earns him a fair amount of laughs.

The Spread Eagle was certainly lively, many having shown up just to see the prodigal deputy who had returned to their midst. It's a bit overwhelming to go from living in isolation to being in a room full of people, but they all seem welcoming and it does feel mostly good to not be alone.

He drinks beer from a bottle, it was his second already, lowering it down with a satisfied and long exhale. It wasn't his favorite type of beer but it tasted like nectar of the Gods to a man who had been MIA for so long. He could die happy, right then and there.

“Good to see you're in high spirits. Can't imagine it has been easy for you.” The Sheriff hummed with a sympathetic look to his facial features, no doubt still feeling responsible for all that had happened.
“I doubt it has been easy for any of us.” Staci counters, hoping to alleviate any regrets they felt. He carried plenty himself already. “So uh, can you catch me up a bit?”

Hudson nods, taking charge of telling how things had been.
“Rook saved me from John's Ranch. It wasn't long before he…” She trails off a bit, all three knowing exactly why. They had lost a coworker and dear friend, the absence still lingering with them. Staci reached over to squeeze Hudson's arm to gently console.
“I miss him too” He stated quietly, to which she nodded in agreement.
“We all do. It's been hard without him in many ways. We barely managed not to completely fuck things over when he was gone. Winter slowed us down but it did so for the peggies too. Felt weird.” Her brows furrow while recalling back to that time. “Like we were at a standstill for a while. Everyone was on edge, waiting for something to happen, but nothing did. Didn't have to worry about bliss that much either. That's why we managed to save Whitehorse too.” She gestures over to the Sheriff with her beer, the man tipping his hat to show his gratitude.

Staci glanced back over to the him, hesitant to ask about what was left unsaid.
“What about the Marshal? Burke.” He tentatively asked, but the shake of Whitehorse’s head was enough of an answer.
“Too far gone due to the bliss.” He explained briefly. Staci hadn't liked the marshal that much, some nights even blaming the man for all that had happened. But he didn't deserve to end up like that, and he had to show respect to his fellow man of law enforcement.

‘’You got a cigarette?” He asks them both, feeling the need to take off the edge.
‘’Since when do you smoke?’’ Hudson retorts, arms crossed as she's leaning against the counter.
‘’Since I grew out the beard.’’ Staci shrugs his shoulders, flashing an almost apologetic smile for the return of his bad habit.
“Here, Sugar.” The bartender, Mary May Fairgrave, offered, holding an open pack for him to take from. He gave a quick thanks to her, accepting one.

He went through his pocket to take out his lighter, as Hudson was now the one mentally preparing to ask him a loaded question.
“...why didn't you come looking for us?” She finally asked, clearly having been bothering her ever since they were reunited. It makes Staci pause, unsure how truthful he could be. He didn't want to hurt them, but neither did he wish to dismiss their right to a proper answer. He uses the few seconds he has to think while he puts his lighter away and exhales the smoke. The pause lingers, before he's able to finally speak up.
“I wasn't strong enough.” He admits his shameful truth, his voice heavy and gravelly. “To fight. To face you. To deal with Rook's death. When I escaped, all I could do was keep running. All I could do… was survive.”

The guilt he carried was… something he couldn't describe, as the feelings he felt conflicted with the choices he made. How he had basically run away not just from Eden's Gate but from the Resistance as well. He had chosen to be selfish, to ignore the rest of the burning world around him. To focus on his own needs. He couldn't find it in him to apologize for it all. Because he knows he would have always made the same choice again, which makes him feel worse.

A warm hand on his shoulder brings him out of his self-loathing thoughts, prompting him to look at Whitehorse, who smiled softly yet earnestly.
“We're glad you're here now, son.” He assures, Hudson nodding in quiet agreement, punching his arm a bit to lessen the tension. He doesn't deserve their forgiveness, but Staci can't help but feel appreciative. He'll do his best to make it up to them for the rest of his life.

“So you spent a winter around the mountains and wilderness?” The Sheriff continues on, changing the topic as he sips his own drink. “Rather impressive. Maybe you should get in touch with Eli.”
Staci's brows lower with confusion, looking over to him.
“You mean Eli Palmer? The leader of the Whitetail Militia?” He asks for clarification, a name he knows has been mentioned before, but frustratingly can't remember all the details.
“Yeah, we've been in contact with him on occasion.” Hudson confirms, taking Staci's half of a cigarette to take a drag for herself. His face twists and darkens, as he feels echoes of Jacob Seed's words rattling in his skull. Like a viper slithering and waiting to strike.

He shakes away the nauseating thoughts.
“Not sure that's a good idea. Not for a while at least, I'm uh… still trying to settle in with being back here, yknow?” He excuses, taking back the rest of the cigarette when Hudson offers it to him. He didn't want to concern them with how much of Jacob Seed was still inside his head. He wasn't sure himself, which kept Staci paranoid with thoughts about there being some unseen trigger planted in his brain. That at any point he could snap.

“Just something to consider.” Whitehorse concluded, not pushing the issue any further.
“For now, let's find you somewhere to settle in for the night. I'm sure you're tired from your travels.” It was a thoughtful observation, Staci readily agreeing with it, the exhaustion constantly clinging to him like smoke. Despite this, he already knew he would be later laying in bed with a gun next to him, while falling asleep to blue eyes that hunted him into his dreams.

Chapter Text

Having a proper base he could return to and other people he could rely on certainly aided significantly in Staci's continued recovery. He was able to eat each day, along with getting to sleep more consistently. Even if the quality of the sleep varied some nights. Taking care of himself more efficiently meant he was in better shape to help with their cause.

He starts off small. Assisting the Resistance around Fall's End, taking out peggies, liberating areas from the clutches of Eden's Gate. His hunting rifle continues to be his favoured companion, keeping himself out of sight. It felt good to be in action again. Most days he kept to himself, having been so used to working alone that to him it was more natural.

On days like this however, Staci could truly see the benefit of being a part of a team.

“Weird how he's always dressed up like he owns a bar somewhere, y'know?” His current mission companion, Sharky, comments as he's peering at John Seed with a pair of binoculars from a safe distance. The youngest Seed brother was preparing to perform yet another delusional speech. The whole charade was going to be broadcasted on camera, John Seed's smug face plastered on any screen that still worked, along to a crowd of peggies watching him live.

“At least he's wearing a shirt.” Staci hums in reply, using the scope of his rifle to watch with Sharky. A shame they were too far for him to be able to shoot accurately. To get rid of the one person that had been responsible for Rook's death. Of course, he didn't solely blame John for the incident. Not when he knew the entire family played a part in it. Had they never come to Hope County, they wouldn't all be in this war.

For now, what Staci had prepared for today was going to be more… memorable.

It was ironic to be working with Sharky Boshaw of all people, considering what type of a nuisance he had been for the Sheriff's Department. Staci had once even arrested him for masturbating out in public in his car. The man had been even brazen enough to ask if he could finish in the squad car instead. But the Deputy had to admit, Sharky's talents were proving to be quite useful in this new era.

“Alright, looks like they've started. Let's get things ready.” They didn't have much of a plan that they were working off of, aside from ruining John Seed's day, and sending a message to everyone who was watching. Then there was the aspect of trying out how beneficial hooking up a remote control to a car would be. Especially one that was decked out with fireworks and explosives.

Sharky walked over to their pet project, patting the hood of the vehicle like a salesman.
“I've named her Roxanne's Blazing Titty Machine.” He lovingly stated, quite proud and pleased with himself.
“Sure, let's go with that.” Staci nodded neutrally without a fight, not even daring to ask who the fuck Roxanne was. He's learned too many things about Sharky these days, and they could never be forgotten no matter how much Staci tried.

They do a double check on everything before the Deputy takes his place with the makeshift remote control. When Staci turns on the engine, Sharky lights up one of the fuses, and then books it over to where they have a clear view of what was to come.

John Seed's ramblings had reached the most intense and passionate part, the peggies watching in awe, before it was all interrupted by a high pitched whistle like sound. The moment they turned their heads to look was when they saw a firework rocket flying straight at them. It explodes with a flurry of colours and lights, sparkling and cracking in splendor, instantly making the scene erupt with chaos. John is shouting orders over the explosions, yelling and the musical car horn. The vehicle was carrying a fair amount, as it drove full speed at them.

Staci felt like a kid playing a video game, giddily controlling the car, chasing John around especially. The Baptist managed to evade him however, although a firecracker did manage to make him jump and scramble, Sharky unable to hold back his laughter, sounding like an absolute madman.

And then the car exploded.

It hadn't been a part of their plan, but in hindsight they should've expected it to happen. And it was glorious. A great powerful blaze that had peggies thrown by the impact, making them all scatter into their trucks. They hauled out of there fast, running away like frightened chickens.
“Shit, I didn't get a turn.” Sharky complained like a petulant child, Staci reaching over to pat his back, as they watched the burning wreck.
“Rest in peace Roxanne's Blazing Titty Machine.” The Deputy saluted.

They dont waste time to make their way down to inspect the damage, seeing if there was anything worth taking or salvageable.

Staci walked over to watch the car, placing his hands on his hips.
“Yep. She's a goner. Guess we'll have to build a new one.”
“She went out in a blaze of glory. Seeing John Seed shit his pants made the whole thing worth it.” Sharky chuckled, giving a blown off piece of the car a good smooch, holding it tightly to his chest like a prize. “Wonder if-... Oh shit- Pratt---”

Staci turned to look at his companion, quirked brow following where he was pointing to, and then he saw it. The camera that had been used to broadcast John's sermon was laying forgotten on its side a few feet away from them. By some miracle or joke from God it was unharmed despite the destruction that had occurred around it. And the red light on it told only one thing.

It was still broadcasting live, and had captured both of them. Right at that moment, all eyes in Hope County were on them.

Including those of Jacob Seed's.

Staci was petrified, having stopped breathing as if it would somehow turn him invisible. The angle of the camera was low and tilted, but they were in frame of it nonetheless. Had passed by it a fair amount of times when they were looking around. Staci could almost feel those intense eyes watching him.

He takes in a lungful of air, exhaling to gain back some control, calm down nerves. He was going to be found out eventually, might as well make the most out of it.
“Sharky, pick it up for me will ya? Face it towards me.” He instructs, which the pyromaniac doesn't question for even a second.
“You got it. I directed a porno once, so you're in good hands.” He informs, going over to grab the camera. He hoists it up, and gives Staci a thumbs up once he's in frame.

He takes out a cigarette tin with a slight tremor to his hand, placing one between his lips before fishing out the lighter. Curses are muttered as he struggles to get it to work, eventually lighting the end to take a long drag. He fills his lungs with smoke, mentally ridding the rest of his anxieties, exhaling out as he turns to the camera.

“So. Guess you all weren't expecting to see me, huh? Or I guess most of you don't even know who I am.” He shrugs his shoulders, tapping away the ash, feeling rather awkward with the situation. He wasn't much for public speaking, especially to a whole county filled with gun firing maniacs and religious nut jobs.
“Names Staci Pratt. Deputy Staci Pratt. And personally, Im real fucking tired of everything wrong in Hope County. All of this Eden's Gate Bullshit. The Seeds. I know one of them pretty personally, and have a message for him:” He points at the camera. He's being reckless and stupid, but he's gained the momentum and confidence to see this to the end.

“Fuck you Jacob Seed. My only regret is not knowing whether or not I successfully burned down most of your Veterans Center. Maybe I'll figure it out one day. Hunt down one of your men, make him squeal.” He places the cigarette between his lips, so he can free up his hands to take out his rifle.
“You thought I was just a dog on a leash. Thought I'd come back with a tail between my legs. Well, Cupcake, I'm not a dog. I'm a goddamn wolf, ready to take down your ass. You can't cage me.”

Staci lifts up the rifle, cigarette ash falling onto it as he takes another drag. Breathe in… Aim…
“Because I'm strong.” And shoot.

The bullet breaks through the lens of the camera, Sharky dropping the whole thing.
“Shit! That could've hit me!” He objects, Staci calmly placing his rifle against his own shoulder, as he removes the cigarette.
“In this world, only the strongest survive.”

----------

“What have you done?!” Is how he's immediately greeted when he returns to Fall's End, Mary May being the one to approach him.
“What-” Staci acts clueless, although could guess that it was his and Sharky's stunt that was being met with disapproval.
“Jacob Seed.” Mary May punctuates the name, the name he's all too familiar with. “He's been seen in John's territory. Him, along with a squad of men and a pack of Judges.”

This makes Staci pause. He knew that Jacob would be furious about his reappearance, but to already be out searching for him and in person? He hadn't considered that.

“Heh… shit, guess I really pissed him off” Staci laughs nervously, scratching his beard as he's unsure on what to say. Mary May sighs, rubbing her face to ease the tension, before looking at him.
“You be careful out there, Staci Pratt. We'd hate to lose you so soon again.” She warns him, before moving along.

Once she's out of sight, Staci lets out a shaky breath, slumping back into a chair. His heart is pounding so loud in his chest that he can feel it in his ears. After having been in hiding for so long, he feels absolutely exposed with danger lurking somewhere unseen. He was absolutely fucked.

But why does a part of him feel so thrilled?

----------

The next day he hears an unexpected message on the radio from an even more unexpected source. John Seed himself, the Baptist. He switches the radio to another channel, only to find out it was being broadcasted there as well. The peggies sure knew how to be clever at times.
‘’Do not be fooled by those who mock us with flashy tricks. They are children, throwing tantrums and destroying what they wish to possess. Cowards who are afraid of saying Yes, afraid of dedicating themselves to a higher purpose. Clinging to their sins, for they know of nothing else. Do not follow the foolish dog, who ran away from the shepherd, for you will only suffocate in his smoke.’’

Apparently John has switched his usual preaching for one dedicated solely at Staci. He figures he better put a stop to it or else they would all be subjected to hearing another mindless and hypocritical rant for the next hour. He picked up the radio at his belt, holding the call button down as he responded mildly annoyed with a: “Do you mind John, I'm trying to listen to my tunes.”

There's silence, one that drags long enough that it makes Staci wonder if the battery had just run out. But of course such peace is short lived.
“Deputy Pratt.’’ John’s smooth voice finally answers, holding back whatever outrage he must have been feeling. ‘’How considerate of you to take this chance to talk to me directly, instead of hiding away like a snake in the grass, poisoning everything you touch.’’

‘’Snakes are venomous, not poisonous.’’ Staci is unable to hold himself back from commenting, although John chooses to ignore it, continuing on with his speech.
‘’You are absolutely riddled with sin, that it will take much effort to wash it off you. To cleanse you thoroughly. Were it up to me, I would hold you down beneath the water, let it fill your lungs until your sins have no room within you. I would fill you with absolution.’’ Staci squints at his radio, unsure of the tone of this call, as it was teetering on something sexual rather than menacing. Although it was more effective in making him feel unsettled.

‘’However, it is not my calling. So ordains the Father, regardless of how tempted I am. Perhaps, we will cross paths regardless. But you… You already know who will be the one to guide you to Eden. Who holds your leash.’’ John’s voice melts into something mocking, gleeful even. It gets under Staci’s skin, especially as he knows who he’s referring to. How he can’t escape from being associated with the Herald of Whitetail Mountains. No matter how much he’s rebuilt himself.

‘’I belong to no one.’’ He briefly rebuffs, keeping it short and sharp, with no room for argument. John merely hums in return, considering, but not convinced. He leaves Staci with one last message:
“I'll give your regards to Jacob. I do hope to make your acquaintance soon, Deputy Pratt, if he doesn't find you first.”

Chapter Text

A week goes by without any incident, aside from a few close calls of almost running into some peggies. Staci hasn't seen or heard from Jacob yet, but with every minute that passes he instinctively knows he's heading towards the inevitable. As if there is some unseen clock, counting down to it. It keeps him constantly anxious.

However, the heavy rain has currently been the biggest nuisance in Staci's life. He had to wait in a cabin for it to ease into a minor drizzle, only able to leave at sunset. Once he's walking outside again, he takes out his radio and switches to a familiar channel.
“Hey Pastor Jerome, I managed to fix the signal tower.” He reports in, waiting for only a moment before he receives a reply.
“Great work Deputy! It will be an important asset to our cause. Are you heading back to Fall's End?” the mildly static voice of the Pastor asks. Staci takes a look at the sky, covered by clouds as light rain continues to fall, already enough of an answer for him.
“It's getting too dark to travel that far in this weather. I'll walk about halfway and stay the night somewhere.”

“Alright. Safe travels Deputy Pratt, may God watch over you.” Pastor Jerome wishes him. The man could at times have a dramatic flair with how ambitiously religious he was, but Staci didn’t mind it, especially whenever he compared it to how Joseph Seed behaved.
“You as well.” He returns the well wishes, placing the radio back to his hip.

The hood of his jacket was doing well to keep himself mostly dry, but his time walking outside was something he wanted to keep as short as possible. Darkness had already settled in, making things even more uncomfortable to navigate through. He could vaguely recall a cabin he saw while on his way to the tower…

His attention was brought to a high pitched whistle like sound, seeing a flare shot into the sky, illuminating the forest in a red hue. It wasn’t shot far from where he was located, Staci could easily make his way over in a matter of minutes. But the real question was, should he?
“Shit.” He curses under his breath, aware that there was no way of knowing who exactly was signaling for help. But if it was a Resistance member or a civilian, Staci couldn’t waste even a second. He begins running towards the direction of where the signal had been shot from, his footsteps splashing in the various shallow puddles. Once he’s closer to the approximate location, he takes out his trusted hunting rifle, moving in cautiously.

But the further Staci gets, the more on edge he begins to feel. There are no signs of a fight, or cries for help. No lights, no sounds. Absolutely nothing. It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He stops where he is, attempting to listen. The only thing loud at that moment was his own heart beat.

Another signal flare is shot into the air, and to Staci’s shock and horror, it was shot right by where he was. Time itself felt like it slowed down, making him hyper aware of every single detail of this moment. The forest being illuminated by a red glow once more, exposing the darkened silhouette that Staci would forever be able to recognize. Standing there like a menacing shadow, as if pulled straight from his nightmares. His own personal bogeyman.

Jacob Seed.

Right as the light of the flare is snuffed out completely, Staci raises his rifle and shoots. The shadow disappeared into the darkness, making him unsure if he had actually hit it, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to stick around to find out.

‘’Fuck!’’ He curses in panic, running faster than he had ever run before. He knew better than to blindly go head on against the Herald of Whitetails. He creates as much distance between them as he can, all while his mind scrambles to think of a plan to survive. The ground is unstable, and he can barely see where he is going. He ducks behind a tree, quieting his breathing down as if his life depended on it. Maybe it did.

He has to remind himself that this time was different. That he was stronger, and better prepared, fully aware of what Jacob was capable of. That he himself was now someone Jacob wouldn’t be expecting, and that was the biggest advantage on his side. He closes his eyes, listening beyond the rain and the rustling of the forest. Listening until he finally heard something out of place.

He moves from behind the tree, and with one swift maneuver shoots at the direction of the noise. However there is no pained scream or grunt, nor a man standing hunched over with a bullet in him. There is absolutely nothing, which terrifies him to the core.

His mistake costs him greatly, as a split second later he is rushed against by Jacob Seed. Staci manages to take the impact fairly well, tuning in immediately to his fighting instincts. They both take a hold of his rifle, trying to pull it away from the other's grasp. Jacob is the one who manages to rip it from his hands and hit Staci’s face with the end of the gun. He stumbles back against a tree, Jacob wasting no time to press the rifle against Staci’s throat to suffocate him.

‘’Hello Peaches.’’ Jacob mockingly greets, a wide and wild grin on his lips. Staci chokes and struggles for air, before placing his hands on the rifle so that he can pull his legs up to kick Jacob off of him.
‘’Hey yourself Cupcake.’’ He croaks back, coughing after freeing himself.

He attempts to shoot him again, Jacob barely managing to knock the barrel away, redirecting the shot into the forest. He pulls the gun from his grasp, throwing it into the bushes, leaving himself open for Staci to land a solid punch to his face. They both resort to using their fists in this one on one encounter. Jacob had more experience than him in combat, but Staci was using all he had picked up these past few months. Where he lacks in strength he makes up for it in agility, managing to dodge Jacobs attacks.

Adrenaline pumps in his veins, fueling his every move. He has fought troupes of peggies and wild animals, yet right now with Jacob it felt like a real fight. A chance to prove himself.

Staci’s fist lands into Jacob’s grasp, the man pulling the Deputy over to smash his elbow into his face. Despite the disorientation and the spots in his eyes, Staci succeeds in kicking the back of Jacob’s leg in a way to have him collapse. Unfortunately Jacob took a hold of his coat, having them both fall into the wet and muddy earth. They roll on the ground like two wild wolves, snarling and lashing at each other.

When Jacob gets on top, the Deputy beneath him raises his arms to block his incoming strikes. Eventually Staci manages to grab one of Jacob’s arms, pulling him down to throw him off his balance. He uses all of his strength to throw the man off of him, quickly reversing their positions. Before Jacob can do anything to retaliate, Staci’s hand moves fast to his belt, and with a blink of an eye is suddenly holding a knife up to Jacob's throat.

It stops them both in their tracks, panting heavily, hearts racing in their chests. They’re both exhausted, wet and covered in mud, staring only at each other. Jacob lets out a humoured huff, unphased by the knife at his jugular.
‘’Not bad, Pratt. Seems you’ve learned a thing or two while you were away.’’ He praises in a low and pleased voice, Staci pressing the blade in more to silence him.
‘’Shut the fuck up, Seed. I’m in charge now.’’ The Deputy states firmly, annoyed as Jacob merely chuckles in reply. Jacob’s hands place onto Staci’s thighs, holding them, but attempting nothing else.
‘’Well then, what are you waiting for?’’ Jacob egged him on, boldly tilting his own chin up more, Staci feeling his own breath hitch. ‘’Cull the herd.’’

This was it, his chance to be free. His chance to finally end this nightmare.

His hand is shaking as he holds the knife, putting pressure against Jacob’s skin, a red line forming along the edge. Just one broad slash. That’s all it would take. His heart is racing like crazy, feeling on the verge of a panic attack. His knife stagnates, as if an invisible force was holding him back.

No longer will he be in the shadow of Jacob Seed.
But… who will he be, without him?

With great agony and pain, Staci pulls the knife away. His teeth grit in anger, trembling with fury.
‘’Fuck- God damn you. Damn you! Why, whY, WHY!?!’’ He cries out and curses brokenly. He’s overcome with feelings of shame and guilt for not being able to do it. Of how Jacob Seed was entangled in every inch of his mind. Afraid of a world without Jacob Seed, more than one with him. It disgusts and enrages him to his core.

His head falls back, laughing at the sky like a madman, whiplashing through various emotions at once. He was a failure of a man who couldn't kill the one who had been tormenting him. He stared empty at the night’s sky, at the rain, everything shutting down inside him. He didn't laugh or cry, feeling only numbness to it all, his face bearing an emotionless expression. Maybe it was better that Rook was dead, so that he couldn’t see Staci like this. Weak.

Jacob showed no concern to witnessing this. He’s seen his fair share of men breaking down in various ways before. Logically he felt relieved to be alive but irrationality complained louder with disappointment. How Staci had proven himself weak, and needed to be culled. And yet all he saw in Staci… was something promising.

He grabs the wrist of the hand holding the knife, pulling and toppling Staci to the ground, straddling him. To his annoyance, it was a simple thing to do, as Staci had lost all of his will to fight. His will to live. And Jacob couldn’t have that. He wouldn't allow it.

‘’Staci… Stay with me. Don’t hide away in that head of yours.’’ He coos and coaxes, taking the knife from him with little force, examining it with mild curiosity. Subconsciously Staci was expecting him to drive that knife into his chest, waiting to die after failing to kill Jacob Seed. And he would do nothing to stop it, believing it was what he deserved.

But what he didn’t expect was Jacob leaning down to press his face against Staci’s neck, inhaling deeply. Taking in his scent to remember it after so long, finding it so familiar. A warm tone mixed with the smell of earth. Jacob’s breath felt hot against his rain cold skin.

It brings Staci back from his dissociation, his senses lighting on fire. The moisture of the ground clinging to his clothes. The taste of dirt and blood in his mouth. Jacob’s weight on top of him.
‘’When I saw you on the screen, I couldn’t believe it. Thought you had died out in the wilderness during the winter. But then there you were. Confident. Strong. Daring to challenge me, when you used to cower at the mere sight of me.’’ He layers his praise with heated kisses along his neck, biting even, making Staci squirm beneath him.
‘’Jacob-’’ His voice fails to object, his mind a jumbled mess with this foreign side of Jacob Seed, unable to comprehend this situation. A side that created such warmth within Staci, despite knowing how wrong it was. Jacob eases from his neck, lifting his head up to look Staci in the eyes, holding an expression of reverence.
“I always saw you had potential… just didn't know you could surpass it like this.”

Staci doesn't get a chance to respond before Jacob closes the gap between them, lips pressed against his with such heated and ravenous passion. Alarms blare in his mind, his body going into overdrive. He struggles underneath, his wrists held in place against the ground. His legs kick and flail uselessly against the muddy ground, only managing to nudge Jacob slightly in place. His head is spinning with vertigo, gasping for air whenever their lips parted for a moment before Jacob was smothering him again.

It's been so long since he's been kissed, and never like this. It's aggressive, dominating and overpowering. He doesn't feel the cold of the rain anymore, his body burning up while pressed against Jacob's.

“I will make you stronger, Staci. Mold you into something ferocious. You will never hesitate again.’’ Jacob promises between demanding kisses. It feels strange to hear him using his first name. Makes Staci want to tear off his tongue. So he bites down.

It instantly has Jacob back off, tasting his own blood in his mouth, as Staci glares at him. Unfortunately to the Deputy he had managed only to nick the tip of his tongue. It's enough to sober Jacob up, after he had been as if possessed by the heat of the moment. Very rarely did he lose control like that. He huffs, a crooked and irritated smirk on his lips.
“You haven't lost that fight in you. Good. We can work with that.”

He gets off of him, standing up while Staci crawls backwards further away from him. He sits upright but remains where he was, watching Jacob’s every move. The Deputy feels a gnawing sense of regret creeping in, voices telling him he should have taken his chance. His own conscience blaming him for wasting the opportunity, but reminding himself of another.
Of the small handgun he had tucked away in his coat.

“You've come a long way from the sniveling whelp of a man I met all those months ago. You've done well. But there's still much work to be done with you, Staci Pratt.” Jacob states factually, his voice calm and even. As he's speaking, Staci's hand is moving the slowest he is capable of, in order to not be caught.
“And you believe you're the one to guide me?” He provokes Jacob, to keep him talking and distracted. Almost there. Jacob indulges him with a smooth and stoic grin.
“Only me.”

Staci’s hand moves swiftly inside his coat, grabbing the handgun to right his wrongs. To fix what he had failed. He takes it out in a faction of a second, pulling back the trigger.

A shot rings out.
A moment passes.

But Jacob Seed stands there unphased, while Staci's vision begins to become spotty, obstructed by firefly like fragments. Actual lights begin to appear, ones coming from flashlights. He turns to look back, seeing a peggie lowering their gun, after having successfully shot Staci in the shoulder with a bliss bullet.

“I already told you, Peaches.” Jacob's voice echoes in the distance, as more of his men come out of the shadows. He feels himself getting drowsy, a second later realizing he was now laying against the ground, staring up at the sky. Jacob appears in his line of sight, everything else blurring away. Staci stares only at him, at those eyes that had been haunting him in his dreams, as darkness itself consumes all of his senses.

“I will always find you, and take you back to where you belong.”

Chapter Text

His vision returns languidly like he's underwater, and the more it clears up, the more it dawns on him how he's in a much too familiar nightmare. Hearing crying and screaming around him, echoed by vicious barks while the sky is obscured by metal bars. The sunlight peeking between the rows was too bright, his hand unable to effectively shield his eyes from it. He's in the goddamn cage again. Like he had never left in the first place.

Except this time he wasn't the same Staci.
Or, that's what he had kept telling himself. But the events of the night before plague and laugh at him, making him want to bite his own head off. The humiliation of having failed to kill Jacob Seed. How Staci could still recall the way his lips had felt against his own, lingering like a scar. He'll sooner die than become weak and pathetic again.

When he took a better look around, the Deputy came to the realization that he wasn't at the Veterans Center. It looked like a completely different outpost, smaller yet still had quite the set up with the individual cages that held various prisoners in them. He even recognised one of them as a Resistance fighter, the young woman looking surprised at seeing Staci there.

He gets up from the ground, rolling his neck and shoulders to ease the pains and aches of the night before. The fight had left his face with a bruised eye and some scratches, but at least his nose wasn't broken this time. He preferred not to gain more breathing problems.

He unabashedly strips his flannel shirt off, his jacket already having been confiscated from him, before jumping to a metal bar above. The guards jolt with surprise, believing this to be some sort of attempt to escape, before they freeze to watch with confusion and disbelief at what he was doing. Staci pulls himself up as much as he's able, holds, then slowly lowers down, repeating this pattern over and over. He pays no attention to the gawking, and neither does anyone dare say something. He's been working out every morning for awhile now, and he's not going to let all this imprisonment bullshit disrupt his routine.

He keeps going, getting all that pent up frustration out by building up a sweat. He drowns out the memory of last night with determination and fury, ignoring the burn he feels in his muscles. This time things will be different. This time--
“You should be saving that energy, Peaches.” Staci doesn't need to even look to know who is talking to him. Not when it's the same voice he was trying to ignore in his head.
“Oh no, what will you do, Cupcake? Leave me locked up in the cold and starve me for days?” He huffs in an annoyed and mocking tone, grunting as he pulls himself up again. Jacob stood with a stoic and authoritative manner, hands folded neatly behind him as two peggie guards stood at his side. He hadn’t wasted time in checking the other prisoners, and had instead walked straight to Staci’s cage as soon as his eyes had locked onto the man.

“You're more irritated than usual.” Jacob hums curiously, as if he's trying to analyze this unfamiliar side of Staci. This raw and erratic side, that was both unpredictable and thrilling.
“You mean than I used to be. This *is* my usual now. Being a pain in the ass.” The Deputy counters back full force, lacking the former fear of upsetting the Herald of Whitetails. It made some of the prisoners and guards nervous, knowing the consequences for those who dared to speak to Jacob in such a way, and yet Staci hadn’t hesitated for even a moment.
“That so? ‘Reckon we'll just have to retrain you to behave again.” His captor dismisses without concern, confident in his own statement. As if Staci was something he could fix as he pleased. It pissed him off immensely.

Staci drops down from the bars, panting, shaking the dull pain from his hands as he approaches the side where Jacob is standing. There’s a thin layer of sweat on his warm flushed skin, Jacob’s fingers twitching unseen behind his back.
“Jacob, we've gone through this song and dance already. I'd rather not waste time with your brainwashing bullshit.” Staci argues with an exasperated sigh, wiping the sweat from his brow with the back of his arm. Jacob smiles at him, mocking and disingenuous.
“I've trained you before, Pratt. I see no waste of time when the progress you’ve made is clear. You should be thanking me for how far you've come.” He states calmly, being no attempt to persuade him. It was something Jacob truly believed to be fact.

Staci’s eyes narrow dangerously at him, his hands moving meticulously up to hold the metal bars between them tightly.
“I became strong on my own. I didn't need you.” He insists with his tone low, a sharp edge woven into his words. Thrilled by his reaction, it only further encouraged Jacob’s taunting, a toothy grin widening on his lips.
“You didn't? And do you truly believe I had no influence over that? That you weren't using what I gave you? What I taught you? You may have gone through your evolution alone, but I created that cocoon surrounding you.“ The more he spoke, the deeper it clung to Staci’s skin, a storm brewing deep beneath the surface. The anger he felt for the audacity of Jaboc’s claims. The unsettling doubts that he could feel lingering in the corners of his mind. About how much truth was there behind Jacob’s words.

Jacob takes a step forward, unconcerned with the enraged beast he was provoking.
“And let’s not forget last night” He unashamedly adds slyly, making it sound nearly lecherous. Leaning in closer to Staci, making it intimate and private between only the two of them. Staci can feel his warm breath as Jacob speaks to him;
“If you were really as strong as you claim to be, you wouldn't have hesitated about killing me.”

Staci spits directly in Jacob’s face in response, a peggie immediately stepping into action when Jacob leans back. He reels the rifle up in order to knock the Deputy away with the end of the gun, but Staci proved himself faster. When the gun came down, he barely moved to the side to dodge so he can pull the cultist against the bars, grabbing the back of his neck. It all happens in a mere flash of a second. Staci pounces in to sink his teeth into his ear, the guard screaming in pain and horror. Staci holds the struggling man firmly in place, as others witness him rip off a piece like a ravaged wolf.

He steps back, mercifully allowing the peggie to escape, as he holds his injured ear in agony. Staci starts chewing, it's unpleasant and disgusting, with soft crunching of cartilage. But he keeps chewing, staring directly at Jacob who hasn't moved at all. Prisoners are whistling and cheering, the guards shouting as they try to get the situation under control, but the world around them might as well no longer exist.

He swallows, and Staci could swear he sees Jacob mirror him, throat bobbing in mimic. He looks absolutely ravenous, like he could eat Staci alive.
“Guess you don't need to feed me today. So leave me the fuck alone.” Staci growls in warning, turning his back to him to jump onto the bars, before continuing where he left off with his pull ups. He can feel Jacob continue staring at him, Staci ignoring that burning gaze, before he finally walks away from the yard without a word.

----------

Later that day, Staci is dragged inside the outpost's building. He's tied down to a chair in one of the rooms, a projector sitting cold and unused, although Staci knew what type of images were held inside it.
“You truly are a rabid dog, Peaches. Going so far as to bite someone.” Jacob starts off his usual monologue, idly circling around the room, with Staci already fed up with it.
“Pot. Kettle.” Is all he says in return to rebuff, his tone unamused, which earns a low chuckle from Jacob.

He stops in front of him, looking at him with that odd look of reverence.
“You really are different to how you used to be, if you no longer have qualms about cannibalism.” He hums with a tone of fascination. Staci raises his head up defiantly, meeting Jacob’s gaze without fear as he states darkly;
“I didn't think of it as cannibalism, because he wasn't my equal.”

Staci isn’t sure where such words came from, and how unbothered he felt by what he had done. Has he really been through such hell that something like eating an ear doesn’t phase him anymore? That is what unnerves him. Jacob looking all too proud and pleased especially didn’t sit right with him, wanting to claw that smug smile off his face. Tear it off with his teeth-

But even while bound, he was aware of how exactly to take advantage of the situation. How to attack where it hurts. After all, he knew the scars that Jacob bore as if they were his own.

He leans back in his chair, tilting his head.
“Unlike you with… what was his name again? Miller?” Staci pries with a sharp edge, Jacob's face turning stone cold at the mentioned name. Staci could already recall every detail of the disturbing story. Jacob only told it once to him, but that alone had been enough to haunt him. Certainly gave him fucked up nightmares for awhile. Ones where he found himself devoured.

Staci chuckles shamelessly, making Jacob aware of how much he had already exposed with his reaction.
“Good ol’ Miller. Your fellow soldier, good friend and the one person you could trust when times got tough. They got really tough at the end, didn’t they?’’ He sighs near wistfully, before tutting disapprovingly. “And yet, when it was either you, or him, you were the one who ultimately made that choice. You chose to survive. You decided your life was more valuable than his, despite him being your equal.”

Each word slices thinly along Jacob’s nerves, the Deputy pouring venom into every syllable. It was the same story that Jacob had willingly told before, yet when Staci was the one to do it, it became twisted and littered with judgement. Staci leans in forward, speaking in a low and despising tone, hiding none of the contempt he felt.

“You believe what you did to Miller made you strong, but in reality Jacob, you ate him because you were weak. Because you were too scared to die like a man.”

Staci’s head gets violently knocked back to the side when Jacob’s fist came into contact with his face, to silence him. He grunts from the familiar pain, lifting his head again after a moment. He nurses his lip by sucking on it, tasting the copper from this newly gained wound. Jacob stares wordlessly, breathing heavily as his fists are clenched at his side. Staci wonders if he’s planning to punch him again, but eventually the Herald composes himself.

“Let's continue where we left off.” He calmly moves on pointedly, ignoring completely what had just happened in favour of taking a hold of an all too familiar music box. Staci curses under his breath at the sight of it, as Jacob unhurriedly winds it up. He holds it out to Staci, and opens the lid to fill the room with the haunting melody of Only You.

Staci closes his eyes, instinctively trying to lean away even if he knew that he couldn't escape it. As the song continued to play, he waited for the world around him to collapse. To fall into a hellish hallucination where he ran around mindlessly shooting and killing people with no rhyme or reason.

But nothing came.

He opens his eyes, too stunned with confusion to do anything else than blink, Jacob closing the music box once he noticed something was off. Staci slowly turns his head to look at him, the man staring back with an equally stunned look. Jacob Seed, the Herald of Whitetails, looked utterly speechless. Staci couldn't hold back his smile of shock and disbelief as the realization hit him.

“Well, well, well. Ain't that a son of a bitch?” A wicked chuckle rumbled from his chest, unable to hold himself back. He could see every muscle on Jacob’s body tightening, shaking with anger. Staci leaned forward in his chair, his head tilting to the side.
“Your music box has lost its edge.” He says in a hushed tone, as if speaking a secret out loud.

He then leans back, laughing openly, which must have been unsettling to hear for the guards outside, only used to hearing screams of terror. Jacob slams the music box down hard, exhaling a shaky breath through his nose as he runs his hand through his ginger hair. He's clearly been thrown off guard, which greatly unsettles and irritates him, Staci reveling in it.

Jacob paces around the room as Staci continues to laugh to his heart's content, feeling utterly triumphant from this unexpected turn of events.
“Aw, no need to be so upset, Cupcake. Your song was sweet and all, but maybe it’s time for change. How about some Johnny Cash instead?” He mockingly suggests. It feels absolutely ridiculous and absurd to be this elated, not even remembering when was the last time he had laughed so much. But what was there truly for him to do? The world was fucked, and all he could do was laugh and hope Rook was laughing with him in the after life.

But as he begins to settle down, he realises he can no longer see his captor, and how silent the room had fallen. Yet he can feel his presence, his instincts screaming at him that Jacob was still in the room. Standing right behind him. When Staci swallows, he can audibly hear it in the deathly quiet room.

Then the lights turned off.

Sitting in darkness he feels the atmosphere, dread building up inside, like smoke filling up one's lungs. A pair of hands coming down to his shoulders makes him jolt slightly in his seat, Jacob leaning down right next to his ear.
“We'll just have to try different methods to tame you”

The light from the projector was startling and unsettling, as it came to life to display the familiar photographs of wolves savagely tearing apart their prey.

The hands on his shoulders slowly drag along his neck, slithering down against his shirt. Staci tries to move away from his touches but is unable to escape from his reach, the ropes around his wrists and ankles keeping him trapped.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Staci grumbles annoyed and confused, squirming in his chair. Jacob’s hands felt scalding, as if everywhere they touched left a phantom mark on him.
“Positive reinforcement.” Jacob's voice against his ear answers with a low timbre.

Staci snorts incredulously, cynical over the entire situation.
“Are you trying to condition me into getting all hot and bothered whenever I see a wolf?” He sneers ‘’It’s fucking weird Ja- Fuck-’’ He gasps low as a hand slips inside his shirt to touch his skin directly. It's been so long since someone touched him, and truly never like this. He despises how the person touching him now was Jacob and he despises how good it feels. That each touch made his body hum with pleasure. He grits his teeth in an attempt to gain composure.

He is given mercy when those hands remove themselves, but only to begin unhurriedly working on Staci’s belt. The realisation makes Staci thrash and struggle as much as he is able to, but Jacob was unrelenting and methodical.
“You said it yourself. You are the wolf. What I'm trying to teach you, is to take pleasure in killing. In proving yourself stronger.” Jacob’s tone is patient and composed, clearly displaying how in control he was. Once he has undone Staci’s belt he unzips his jeans, pulling down the material.
“Stop-” Staci hisses, but he chokes on any other words of objection once a rough palm presses against his groin. Jacob’s hand rubs over the thin fabric of Staci’s boxers, able to tell how Staci’s cock was filling up beneath it. The ropes creak as Staci strains against them, the coarse fiber digging into his wrists. He is seething at how his abdomen burns with lust, and at how he wanted to move his hips to chase such delicious friction.

He tries to lean forward, to fold over himself, however Jacob merely yanks him to sit upright. His free hand remains around Staci’s throat, to keep him sitting there, feeling every vibration when Staci groans with unwanted pleasure. The way Staci’s breath hitches when he finally pushed down his clothes just enough to expose his hard cock into the cool air. Jacob takes a moment to appraise Staci’s appearance, enjoying immensely how dishevelled he looked in this state.
“Focus, Peaches.’’ He chides playfully, giving his cheek gentle taps to keep his attention.

Jacob spits in his scarred and calloused hand before wrapping it around Staci’s cock, making the Deputy gasp at the touch. Jacob gives an experimental stroke, watching Staci’s every reaction. His bloody lip hangs open with each heavy breath and moan that Jacob is able to tease out of him. Staci stares forward at the portrayal of wolves showcased by the projector in hopes of seeing such vicious displays would kill his arousal. But every image is met with Jacob stroking him firmly, making it impossible for Staci to focus or disassociate. The violence and carnage that should repulse him begin to mix with strange and confused thoughts. How he can practically feel his teeth sinking into his prey. His own blood from his lip makes the experience more surreal.

“It feels good, doesn’t it? To know you are strong. I can feel your cock twitch in my hand whenever you think about it.” Jacob’s breath is hot against his ear, making Staci shiver and squirm.
“Fuck- Y-You--” He bites out a curse, stubbornly closing his eyes by force. But while he can turn away from the images, he can’t ignore Jacob whispering filthily into his ear. Or the slick lewd sounds of his flesh being stroked, and the shameful noises he made.
“You can deny and hide away in that head of yours, Staci, but your body knows what it wants. What it needs. We are slaves to our instincts, knowing only how to eat, sleep, fuck and kill.” Hearing Jacob speak in such a vulgar and crude way was messing with Staci’s head, his senses getting all mixed up with what was appropriate. Jacob’s thumb brushes along the tip of Staci’s cock in a way that makes his quiver. Jacob was his tormentor, captor and warden. He was the man who he loathes with his every being, and yet was the one making him feel absolutely insane with desire.

Jacob wasn’t fairing any better than Staci, feeling himself hard and aching within his own pants, yet ignored his own needs. His hand was moving up and down in a smooth and steady rhythm, forcing Staci to fail at keeping down his voice. His mouth looks absolutely inviting and tantalising, Jacob being unable to resist pressing in two fingers. The digits press against Staci’s tongue, sliding along the wet texture to reach the back of his throat. This alerts Staci of the intrusion, the last shreds of his clear mind able to sink his teeth down.

Despite the pain, the defiance makes Jacob grin widely, adoring the burning glare Staci was giving him as his mouth was coated with Jacob’s blood.
“You are absolutely perfect, Staci” He praises breathlessly, rewarding him by speeding up the hand stroking him. He watches as Staci’s eyes glaze over, getting swept away with the heat that was building up fast in his loins. His moans are muffled by the fingers in his mouth, becoming more frantic and needy.

Right as he was approaching the edge, Jacob leans down to his ear, biting it harshly. The pain mixes in with the pleasure like a spark, having Staci climax with such intensity, spilling onto Jacob’s hand. His senses are overwhelmed with being aware of every single touch, his body surrendering to the throes of ecstasy. It was unlike anything Staci had ever experienced.

The injured fingers are removed from his mouth, leaving a bloody trail of saliva running down the side of his chin, Staci coughing and catching his breath. Jacob removes himself completely, Staci subconsciously noticing the absence of his warmth. The Deputy’s head falls back, panting with his face flushed and sweaty. He feels both sated and enraged, shame leaving him with the feeling of regret.

His wrists sting from the ropes, and his exposed skin feels cold with humiliation. Jacob steps into view, a rag in his hand as he’s wiping off Staci’s cum. There’s an obvious bulge in Jacob’s pants which he does not acknowledge in any form. He looks absolutely stoic and unperturbed, letting Staci fester in the knowledge of how untouchable he was.

“Did you ever stop to think that maybe the music box doesn't work anymore, because you don't need it?” He offhandedly asks, focusing on his own hands rather than Staci. “Because you are already exactly how I want you to be?”

He places the rag away, this time looking at Staci, who heatedly refuses to return the look, quietly seething. The back of his hair is grabbed, lifting his head towards Jacob. When he refuses to look up, he is jostled enough to make the message clear. That there was no escaping this. He lifts his gaze, meeting those sharp blue eyes.

“You belong here, by my side. Only I can control you, Staci. Only me.”