Handprints
Handprints: A Far Cry 5 Fanfiction, soulmate AU.
Relationship: Eli Palmer x Gender Neutral!Deputy
Rating: All ages!
Summary: Rook has spent the last few days reflecting on themself and their relationship with Eli. When he wakes up after almost dying by their hand they don’t know how to act.
Warnings: Oh boy! Attempted murder, wound mention, blood, self loathing, angst galore.
Word Count: 1,363
Author’s Note: Well, it’s been a while. Today (aug 30th) is my birthday so I decided to give myself a little present (the sweet feeling of accomplishment) by finishing this Eli fic. As per usual I strayed a bit, but I’m over all very pleased! I hope y’all enjoy and can forgive me for my absence.
It’s on the fourth day of sitting and watching their friend waste away in a makeshift hospital bed that his eyes finally open. Jacob Seed has been dead for over three days now, and without his ever looming presence the mountains are quiet. Too quiet. Without the background hum of the Whitetails planning their next move the bunker is eerily silent, it’s a stark contrast to how full of life the den had been a mere week ago.
The others won’t speak to Rook, they instead shoot suspicious glances their way and murmur behind closed doors, trying not to yell at Tammy as they ask if it’s the best idea to leave Eli with them. They don’t say it outright, but the Deputy knows what they mean. They’re asking if it’s safe to leave a still recovering Eli vulnerable under the watch of the person who tried to kill him In the same room as a murderer. The Whitetails don’t say it, they can’t seem to get the words out, but Rook hears the unspoken words as if they’d yelled them through a megaphone. They have to fight the urge to flinch and cower every time they hear the whispers start, because a large part of them agrees. It’s foolish for the Whitetails to allow them in the same room as Eli. But a smaller part of them murmurs in the back of their mind that if anyone tried to take them from his side they’d slit their throat without hesitation. That's what they've become, a killer. That's what Jacob had made them into, hell that's what Hope County had turned them into. As soon as they stepped foot on the cursed Montana soil their destiny had been set. Jacob Seed hadn't made them a killer, they'd done that themselves, he'd simply honed their skills. Of course, Eli wouldn’t have been their first kill, nor their last. With all that was happening in Hope County they knew that the day they’d put their gun down was far off, but that didn’t stop them from praying every day for the bloodshed to end. Eli had opened their eyes, before meeting him they’d become close to becoming a blank slate of themselves, their only ambition in life to kill whoever stood in front of them. But Eli, with his soft words of worry and constant comforting presence had broken through the fog and saved them. In return, they’d attempted to kill him. They’d spent the last few days in this room that had once been Wheaty’s, this room that was now only a step above a morgue. Rook’s arms looked like they'd gotten into a disagreement with a cat, covered in angry raised marks from where they’d tried to claw the vaguely hand shaped blob from their forearm. They didn’t deserve it. As soon as his sleep clouded eyes landed on them they prepared to bolt, the look on understanding on his face felt suffocating. The worry they saw clear as day in his eyes made the heavy feeling of guilt press on their chest until they couldn’t breathe, instead settling on staring at him and hoping if they didn’t breathe or move he’d look away and they could escape. “Hey, Deputy.” His voice was raspy from neglect and without thinking they grabbed a water bottle and moved to his side. They unscrewed the cap and help the bottle tenderly to his lips, taking care not to jostle him too much as he gulped the liquid. They took care to make sure he didn't choke, it wouldn't do for the great leader of the Whitetail Militia to die from drinking water with too much zest. “Thanks,” He let out a small chuckle, “Always takin’ care of me.” He winced as the words pulled at the still healing wound on his chest. They’d shot him. That was hardly taking care of him, but Eli was ever the optimist and he loved making people laugh. Even while recovering from a gunshot wound he was trying to take care of them, it makes them feel sick. Rook opens their mouth to reply but found themselves cut off by Tammy speaking from the doorway, “Eli, shit, you’re awake.” She sounds relieved and Rook echoes the sentiment. “Just a quick nap.” He grinned and nodded at Tammy, asking her to leave. She took the hint and nodded, because that's how the militia functioned. They didn't need words, they understood each other, Rook didn't fit in with them, which made them feel all the more guilty for Eli's kindness when taking them in. Tammy backed out of the room, but not before reminding the Deputy that Eli needed his bandages changed. She shot them a harsh look that a week ago would have made them wince, instead they took it in stride. They'd gotten used to it in the last few days. ‘A quick nap’ the words rang in their mind. They could have lost him, he could have closed his eyes and never opened them again. Yet as always he was joking, doing his best to ease the tension and soothe their worries. It was such an Eli move that it made their heart clench. Without a word, because they worried if they dare open their mouth they’d shout at him for being so casual, they gathered the supplies to change his bandages. They’d scream at him until their lungs gave out, demanding to know why he could even stomach looking at them after what they’d done to him. His eyes held that same understanding twinkle as he watched Rook move about the small space, they hated it. They didn’t deserve his friendship. There was silence in the room as the Deputy gingerly started to peel away his bandages, once they'd uncovered the wound they sucked in a sharp breath. They’d seen it every day since the attempt on his life, they hadn’t left his side since killing Jacob, but it wasn’t the wound that knocked the breath out of them. After four days of changes the bandages they should have gotten used to seeing the pink hand print over the marred skin, almost like someone had slapped his wound. They tried to play off their reaction but Eli had caught it. As they turned away to grab something Eli’s hand caught their arm, gently placing his hand over the handprint on their forearm. Despite the cloth barrier of their shirt preventing his hand from touching their skin a jolt of electricity burned through them, once more taking their breath away. A memory of kind eyes holding onto them as he cut their binds flashed before their eyes. “How do you know?” Their voice was small, terrified. They’d avoided touching Eli after they realized what the mark on their arm meant. Rook had avoided it until they couldn’t anymore, until they saw him bleeding out on the floor and reacted on instinct. He shrugged in response, wincing as the motion pulled on his wound. “Didn’t need the mark to know.” His calloused hands found their chin moving with a gentleness a man as grizzled as him shouldn't possess, coaxing their eyes to meet his. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but the adoration in his gaze was unmistakable. He was looking at them like he loved them and it scared them to death. “Eli,” They started, fully intending to pull away and run for the hills, never heard from again. His shaky sigh rooted them in their spot. “Stay.” The vulnerability in his eyes cut them to their core and all Rook could do was answer with a slow nod. That was as much of a confession of love as either of them could handle right now. All thoughts of running drained from their body, they’d stay by Eli’s side for as long as he wanted them. Who were they kidding? Even if he ever stopped wanting them, they couldn’t leave. He was their soulmate and they were his, they'd never needed a mark to know that. They knew it from the moment their eyes had met, they’d stay by his side until the end of their days.