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You Have To Go (Stay, Oh God, Please Stay)
Rated T for swearing and just general sam-ness. Pairing: F!Deputy/Eli Palmer Characters: Sam Rook (F!Deputy), Eli Palmer, Seed Family mentioned, Jacob Seed mentioned.
“I need you to stop trusting me.”
Easter Holiday
Rated T for cursing, Sam, and general violence (mentioned) but that's just par for the course.
There’s a lull in cult activity around Easter.
Sam almost felt bad giving them something to do but she and Jess weren’t exactly the religious type. Or the type to celebrate while people were still disappearing and dying and turning up absolutely deranged if they managed to survive. So they continued liberating parts of the Whitetail Mountains— until Jess broke her arm and Sam sprained her ankle. It wasn’t their fault Jacob didn’t agree with their hobby of blowing up little weapon stockades or that he’d set judges on him for such a little thing. They’d run out of ammo and were working on running out of adrenaline when they’d been cornered at the top of the waterfall. Sparing only a moment to give each other despairing glances before Jess and Sam did what they had to.
In which Yeeting a Flare at a Wolverine Ends up Being A Bad Idea Mostly
The first time Sam woke up at the Wolf’s Den she remembered thinking Tammy Barnes was a smart woman and everyone else she chose to interact with (Eli) needed to take a page out of Tammy’s very suspicious book. Sam wasn’t to be trusted. Not anymore, maybe not ever. She was reliable sure. Sam could admit she had some damn redeeming qualities, she wasn’t entirely self loathing. But at the end of the day even she knew her brain was a hellscape before the whole conditioning shit. But now? There were some thoughts in her head so disturbing she would never know whether or not they were actually hers.
Eli, almost thankfully, chose to ignore every single red flag Sam waved around in his face from the moment he laid eyes on her forward. Otherwise she would be bleeding out in the forest by herself with only a fat diabetic bear to care for her and not bleeding out on the cot Eli dumped her on so he could at the very least, stop the bleeding and stitch her up. A lucky gal indeed.
“I’ve seen you walk off almost impossible hits,” Eli grunted, “and yet it’s a fucking wolverine that takes you down? One you goaded by the way.”
“Kicking a girl while she’s down I see,” Sam flinched when Eli pressed down a little too hard. For all she pretended to be tough and indestructible she was still human, and liable to reckless behavior. So maybe she shouldn’t have shot a flare directly at a wolverine. Miraculously it was leaving her the hell alone before she decided death by wolverine was a fun way to go. Of course, she was wrong. Whoever said Sam Rook was smart needed to have a five second conversation with her.
“I wouldn’t have believed it if we hadn’t seen it on the security tape,” Eli muttered. Mostly he was pissed off. Sam was injured and for the moment was no longer useful to the resistance. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“That I could take it. Stupid wolverine—”
“Stupid you, Sam, you gave me a fucking heart attack when you didn’t get back up.”
“Aw,” Sam grinned at him. She lifted her head a bit to get a good look at him. He was staring intently at the work his hands were doing. She remembered this as well.
When she first woke up she was greeted with Eli’s face. With those pretty pretty eyes, brow furrowing in worry. She found the beard suited him well, something she usually wouldn’t care for. And when she finally got a look at him in action... christ almighty, she’d had better things to do but ogle at him using that bow of his. Now those incredibly focused eyes and precise hands were focused on her. She wanted to do something about it but she doubted Eli would reciprocate. She forgot the joke she was going to make. Something sinister that she knew would fire Eli up.
“You shouldn’t worry about me Palmer, I always come out on top.”
“Yeah when you’re opponent is dead on top isn’t always that far away. I quite like you when you’re alive and not dying.” There was tension in his voice that made her so incredibly curious. She wanted to poke and prod and pull, she could. It would be so easy, she used to do it all the time. A little smile here, a little touch there. A comment, a compliment, an innocuous conversation with someone who didn’t know she wanted anything from them. But the thought of manipulating Eli into revealing something important, something he’s not willing to share left a taste in her mouth so putrid she didn’t even want to think about it anymore.
She doesn’t know how Jakey wants her to kill Eli when he’s her biggest weakness. There’s a lot she’s willing to do for the man patching her up, she would rather Jacob killed her than hurt Eli.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sam grunted entirely unaffected. “Can’t save the county if I’m dead.”
“Is that what you think I’m saying when I ask you not die?” Eli asked incredulously. No, but Sam can’t handle the truth of what he’s asking of her. She doesn’t answer. “Sam—“
“You done?” She interrupted. Forced herself to sit up only to be stopped by the same two hands that fixed her up. He lets his grip on her loosen. Free’s up one of his hands to guide her head toward his own from beneath her chin. Forces her to have nowhere else to look but directly at him. His eyes searching for an answer Sam doesn’t want to give.
“Hey,” Eli said sternly soft, “look at me.”
It’s not order or a demand but a request. See what I have to offer. So she does. His eyes, as always, are gentle. Sam wonders what she has to do to get that same cold calculating stare she knows he’s capable of. It’s nothing like Tammy who makes her feel like a child all over again. Or Wheaty who wants to ask a million questions but doesn’t want to push her away. Excitement at every little thing she deems him worthy of knowing about her. It’s gentle. Like she’s a delicate little thing.
Eli Palmer looks at her like he already knows everything he needs to know and it scares her that he might.
“You are not a tool for me to use, you aren’t disposable. I want you alive Sam because I—“
God bless Sharky Boshaw. Who Sam forgot she brought along with her and left at the Wolf’s Den while she went out for a quick breather with the damn bear.
“Deputy? Dep! You alive in there? Heard ya got mauled by a wolverine again. Just wanted make sure you were fine. Can’t have the second half of this buddy cop movie dyin’ before the climax.”
“You’re not a cop,” Sam said plainly. She half wanted to kill him and half want to ignore him in favor of getting Eli back in her personal space. He’s the fire and she’s the moth.
Sam stood up with a grunt and limped over to where the door was locked. Moving her right leg exacerbated the wound across her abdomen but she’d be damn if she let it show too much. She pulled the door open and moved around to let Sharky in.
“Aww, dep. don’t ruin my fun,” Sharky teased. He didn’t move to help her only because he knows she won’t accept it and only make her injuries worse. For all he joked Sam knew he was really worried.
“I don’t want you going out and poking the bear while you’re injured,” Eli told her, “I’ll tie you to that bed and keep a guard if you even try to leave the den before being cleared.”
“Kinky!” Sharky crowed, “just how you like ‘em, dep.”
Sam’s face heated up at the comment and while she knew she couldn’t chase after Sharky lest Eli go through on his promise, she glared at his retreating self.
“Fuck off, Boshaw,” Sam called after him as Eli chuckled behind her. Guided her slowly back to the bed for her to rest.
“If you’re not here when I come back I’m taking a leaf out of Jacob’s book and sending a search party after you.”
Sam scrunched her nose in distaste the comparison. Eli was nothing like that little bitch.
“Don’t get your little boxer briefs in a bunch. I’ll be here.”
shitty work in progress? maybe this way I’ll be motivated to finish it
“John was right about one thing, Jacob. My sin is wrath. Wrath paved the way here. Wrath is what let me kill and kill and kill for years. I was born dripping in it… but I won’t. I want this war to end. Be it with a bullet inbetween my eyes or you in a fucking cage.”
I Titled This “Oh Man. Oh Jeeze.” In Google Docs.
I wrote this last night while hung over and sleep deprived at midnight so. Have fun.
“Hey John?” Sam panted. Her back was pressed against a tree and she wondered how far she actually ran. It felt like her lungs were going to burst. Or her limbs were going to fall off. And with Jacob’s judges chased after her through the woods it’s a miracle she’s gotten this far to feel like that. Thank whoever lorded above that she found that cabin with the dirt bike or the judges would have had a tasty Sam Steak for dinner.
Though if Sam were being honest, she was much too skinny to be a good meal. The being-starved-in-a-cage diet did wonders for her figure. 10/10 would recommend.
“Deputy,” John sang, “why do you grace me with your lovely voice?”
Sam took a deep breath, she could hear the wolves howling not that far from and she continued.
Sam knew they wouldn’t follow her into the valley. She was sure the next road out of the forest was John territory. Eli would have a fucking heart attack when he got news of what she did. Though by now he’ll probably be more relieved she’s alive.
Right. John. “Oh man,” Sam said into the radio, “this is a little embarrassing really.”
That seemed to catch John’s full attention. Sam was almost there. She was so close. She could even hear the ghost of Sharky’s music to signal he was close by. Sam was glad she thought of that little nugget. Calling Sharky for a getaway vehicle after disappearing for a week was probably the smartest damn thing she’s done.
“Is that so Deputy? Have you finally decided to finish your confession?” John asked.
She almost felt bad. Almost. “Oh jeeze, Johnny, this is so awkward. But I need a favor.”
“A. Favor?”
“Yes,” Sam slowed down to catch her breath, she made sure John heard all of it. From the way her breath hitched to the way the little ‘yes’ dragged down in pitch at the end. “I need you.”
She paused not taking her finger off the talk button so that he and everyone else listening in (Jacob) could hear her. Without interrupting with a sermon.
“I need you to tell Jacob I’m breaking up with him,” she said. Finally, Sam saw the dirt road and a very familiar ZZT drive by. It stopped abruptly and reversed. “It was nice while it lasted. But. Look. He has his kinks and I have my kinks and they just don't. Match. Up. You see he wants to keep me in a cage and I want to shoot him in the foot or the penis— Both. Both is good.”
So while building Sam’s personality a while ago I wrote down some prompt-like sentences to help get into her mindset and. Here are some of my favorites:
“Pastor Jerome never needed to take his shirt off to exude Big Dick Energy.”
“Sam didn’t have the patience for men that didn’t understand the power of No.”
“Her step father was a man of many words and many actions. All of his words were bullshit and, well, Sam took care of his actions right quick”
“Sam Rook has only ever loved one man and he’s dead, so who cares?”
“Don’t McFucking Shoot!”
Promises, Promises
They’re floating in a lake under the Montana sky, hands grasped tight, their fingers digging into each others skin. Sam was aware that beneath them the moonlight hit the bottom of the lake. Illuminating the bottom of an already crystal clear bottom. She’s aware that in the past four months this was the most calm she’s experienced And she’s aware that Eli was unequivocally responsible for that calm. That the way she could feel his pulse by simply grasping tighter. And that, although the water was chilly as all fuck, she felt so very warm.
She was wearing her usual tactical pants, which earlier in the week had suffered a rip about the length of the swipe of a very angry wolverine, now mended and very wet. Her tank top was a ratty one that she usually wore under her deputy uniform shirt which lay next to her equally ratty boots at the lakeshore. Beside them were Eli’s jacket and boots and most of their equipment. As there was a knife or two Sam refused to take off her person as they’ve proven essential during times of turmoil.
But that wasn’t the part that she cared about. No. It was the way Eli looked under the moonlight. A small smile gracing his lips, the only indication of its existing being the laugh lines around his eyes ever just slightly deepening.
“What’re you thinking about that’s got you so happy?” Sam asked quietly.
“I’ve never seen you so relaxed,” he explained, “it’s nice. This is a nice moment.”
“Montana’s been doing a crappy job of letting me relax.”
“You ever think about the future Sam?” Eli asked suddenly. When Sam eyed him from the corner she saw he stared up at the moon with a far away feeling. Like he was looking past the moon instead.
“Most of the time I ain’t think I got a future, Palmer,” Sam said. She threw herself into danger so often and so recklessly she was genuinely surprised she could even afford to be there. Floating in that lake next to him and holding on like it might be the last time she’d be able to. To be fair. It might be.
“You shouldn’t think like that,” Eli said. He sounded upset. The timber of his voice shaking. It shifted her footing. Her understanding of Eli Palmer.
“Shouldn’t start setting myself up for disappointment now,” Sam said with a forced smile. She didn’t want to think about the future. Or about Eli. Or about anything. She still can help herself though, “do you? Think about the future I mean.”
“All the time,” Eli said, “I need to. Otherwise. What am I fighting for, y’know?”
Others, she wanted to say, I fight for others. Never myself, that’s useless. She waited.
“I think about moving back down to the valley, y’know? Towns gonna need a handy man once everything is said and done. People will be rebuilding homes. I can help with that. I’d be closer to the sheriffs department too. I don’t know, we could. Go for drinks more often that way.”
“Every Sunday after church,” Sam said jokingly. She hadn’t attended a mass in a very long time. She didn’t plan to after this. Thinking about religion left a sour taste in her mouth nowadays.
“Whenever you want.” Eli said. His tone was too easy. Too forced. She knew what he was asking. Stay, for the love God please stay here. With me.
“We could even go hunting,” Sam suggested airily, “Sharky mentioned somethin’ about using a flame thrower to get fish got, we could always let ‘im at it supervised.”
She brought Sharky to make him laugh but what she wanted to do was promise him that she would stay. The best she could do, though, was give him plans for the future.
