Work Text:
Patience regretted it as soon as she reached out to him over the radio, even before he had a chance to respond. But what choice did she have?
“Deputy. How pleasant to hear from you. Have you decided to Confess?”
She practically snarled in response to his smarmy tone. “Cut the crap, John. I need to meet with you. In person.”
“Of course, my dear. You know exactly where to find my Gate.”
“Alone.”
She rolled her eyes as John broadcast his laugh over the radio. “Now why would I agree to something like that?”
Patience sighed. She knew it wouldn’t be that easy. She knew she’d have to give him a significant advantage in order to make him agree. But she needed to meet with him. Despite what he said, there was no way she could simply walk up to his bunker without ending up riddled with bullets.
“Because I’m willing to meet you unarmed. And I am not expecting you to extend the same courtesy.”
“Hmm… Well, that’s certainly intriguing.” She could hear the slimy smile in his voice. “But how am I supposed to know this isn’t a trap? That you won’t bring a bunch of your little resistance friends along with you?”
A fair enough question. But one she’d thought of and had a workaround for.
“I’m in the valley. Nowhere is more than a twenty minute drive from anywhere else. You choose the location and give me a twenty minute warning and I’ll meet you there.” She pauses before adding, “Please. It’s important.”
There was a long silence from his end before his reply crackled through the handheld radio.
“Alright. Consider this your twenty minute warning.”
John rattled off coordinates and she agreed without pause. In the end it had only taken her ten minutes to get there, and she arrived before him. It was a clearing in the woods, just off the road. A relatively unused road, but easily accessible. Nothing but dried pine needles and sharp rocks on the cool, packed earth.
She didn’t want to know how John knew about this place. But she could imagine.
She heard his approach before she saw him. He stepped into the clearing in his signature dumbass coat, sunglasses perched atop his head as if it weren’t long past sundown. God, he was so fucking pretentious. She was sure he had his handgun strapped to his side, yet he still carried an AR-C in his hands. She’d almost be flattered he found her so formidable if she didn’t find it so obnoxious.
John stepped into the moonlight, but Patience stayed at the treeline, ready to duck behind a thick trunk at a moment’s notice. She cleared her throat to alert him to her presence in the trees. He grinned ominously in her direction.
“Step out of the shadows, my dear. How am I supposed to know you’re truly alone and unarmed? Why don’t you step out slowly with your hands up, hm?”
Patience hesitated before speaking. “I can come out, but I have something in my arms.”
“Then set it down,” he said harshly, clearly losing his hold over his temper.
“…I’d really rather prefer not to.”
“Just come out,” he said as he raised his rifle in her direction.
She sighed and slept out slowly, telling herself over and over in her head that it was fine, that he wouldn’t shoot. He wouldn’t shoot, he wouldn’t shoot, he wouldn’t shoot…
She expected something else. A gasp, wide eyes, a double take, something. Instead, as she stepped out of the shadows, he simply raised an eyebrow, lowered his rifle, and asked, “Is that yours?”
And something about how casually the question was posed pissed her off so thoroughly that she snapped at him in response, “No. I got him at fucking Bed, Bath, & Beyond.”
He laughed blithely at that, gesturing at the squirming infant in her arms. “He, is it? Does he have a name?”
Patience sighed. “James.”
John smiles smugly. “And I take it little James here is the reason my men have had such sparse sightings of you over the past, what has it been, nine months?”
She scowled at him. “He’s a month old.”
He smiled and crossed his arms in an adopted posture of perfect ease. She noticed his eyes carefully scan the tree line behind her, probably checking for signs of more people, as if he still thought this was a trap. Patience bristled in offense.
“I wouldn’t bring my child to an ambush, John.”
“One can never be too sure…”
She stood in angry silence, rocking the baby in her arms.
“Well, if this isn’t an ambush, then what is it?”
“I need help.”
“What kind of help?”
“Medical help. For James.”
“Is he ill?” John asked calmly, like he was asking for the time. Like this wasn’t about her son’s life. She wanted to tear him limb from limb, and may well have done it if she wasn’t desperate for his help.
She spoke tersely. “He needs medicine.”
“And why should I help with that?”
“Because you have stolen all the medical supplies. You’ve kidnapped all the doctors-“
“Saved them.”
“And because he is an innocent child who needs your help.”
John shrugged. “I’m not in the habit of letting enemies into my Gate. That would hardly be prudent, strategically. Now, I could take your child and get him the care he needs...”
“No,” she said adamantly. “I am not letting you take him from me.”
He smiled as if chagrined. “Then there’s nothing I can do.”
“Bullshit.”
“Maybe. Perhaps it’s better to say there’s nothing I will do.”
Patience spoke with all the fire of the protective mother she was. “Wrong. You will help him.”
“And why would I do that?”
Patience had rehearsed this conversation in her head. She’d thought through every possible response he could have and what she’d say in return. But now, in the moment, all she could think about was the baby in her arms, much too warm, a fever taking over his tiny body. She wasn’t concerned with how much she’d have to give up. All she wanted was her baby to be ok.
So, she offered John the most she had.
“Because I’m willing to turn coat.”
John smiled, a cheshire grin. “Now, that certainly is intriguing.”
“So, you’ll help him?”
“Not so fast, Deputy.”
The glee was evident in his voice, and it infuriated her. James’ fever was getting worse and worse, and she was overcome with a desperate urgency to do something, anything, to fix it. So, John’s blasé attitude and insistence on taking his time was almost physically painful to her.
He smiled smugly. “First, we need to hash out what exactly this means.”
“What it means?” Patience shifted James to her other arm, impatient. “It means I’ll be a damn Peggie. Now can we go get my son to a doctor?”
“Patience, dear Patience.”
He smiled at the small joke at the same time she rolled her eyes.
“John-“
“I am not letting you into my Gate until we discuss this.”
She clutched her child to her breast, but nodded. Patience had no cards here, and she knew it.
John slung his rifle back over his shoulder and clasped his hands behind his back, slowly pacing back and forth with comfortable ease. “I’d expect information. Everything you have.”
She gritted her teeth but nodded once, tensely.
He grinned. “That includes names, locations, firepower, any upcoming plans you know of. Of course, I’d like the Whitetails’ location for my brother, as well.”
Her jaw still angrily clenched, she hissed out, “Fine.”
John laughed easily as walked up to her. “So quick to betray your little resistance… Does this little child really mean so much to you?” he taunted.
“Yes. He does.”
If looks could kill…
John held out his arms to take James, and she pushed the child tighter to her chest, taking a quick step back and turning her body half away, shielding her son from him, eyes wild with a mix of fear and anger.
He held his hands up in a motion of surrender. “I just wanted to see what’s wrong with him.”
“He has a fever.”
John scoffed. “That’s it?”
Patience really considered slapping him. She imagined it- how it would feel when her hand made contact with his stupid face, the resounding clap of noise, the look of shock and outrage on his face… Instead, she took a deep breath, and spoke as calmly as she could, though her anger was obvious.
“He’s had a fever for days now. Nothing is working. He’s not sleeping or eating well, and he won’t stop crying, and baby aspirin isn’t-“ She took a shuddering breath and blinked rapidly to disperse the tears that were threatening to well up. “Something is wrong. He’s sick, or has an infection, or something. He needs a doctor.”
“He’ll see one. Shortly.”
“Now.”
His face was stony, taunting and ease gone. “He’ll see a doctor when I say he can. We aren’t done talking.”
“John. I will do anything. Do you understand? I will join the cult, I will betray the resistance, and I will do whatever else you want on top of that. Please. Just let him see a doctor.”
His eyes narrowed as he looked her over. His gaze was contemplative, considering. She looked down. Holding his eye contact while he looked at her like that was too difficult, almost intimate. Patience wasn’t sure what he saw when he looked at her like that, but whatever it was clearly met with his approval. Probably sheer, pathetic desperation.
“Alright. Let’s go.”
He turned and walked out of the clearing, and she followed closely after only a moment of stunned hesitation. He walked them out to his truck, parked on the side of the road. He even opened the door for her. As she settled in the passenger seat, she held James close to her breast, one hand cradling his head, as if she could take the place of a car seat.
“Please drive carefully.”
John scoffed as he started up the truck, its obnoxiously bright LED headlights springing to life and illuminating the dark Montana road. “Relax, Deputy. I have a vested interest in getting you and your spawn back to my Gate in one piece.”
“Don’t call him that.” But her words were half-hearted. Her real concern was in his alleged ‘vested interest.’ Because whatever he wanted from her wouldn’t be good.
As they drove westward on the gravel road, John finally spoke, asking the question she’d hoped he wouldn’t.
“Where’s the kid’s father?”
“He doesn’t have one,” she tersely replied.
“Really? Immaculate conception? That’s what you’re going with?”
“Oh, fuck off. You know what I mean.”
“One, you are not going to talk to me like that anymore. You want your boy to see a doctor, you treat me with respect. Understood?”
She clenched her jaw in anger. “Yes.”
“Two, you clearly didn’t make that baby on your own. There was a man involved in at least the one part. Where is he?”
When Patience opened her mouth to respond, he quickly interjected, “Politely.”
She huffed but trimmed the curses off her answer. “I don’t know.”
John scoffed. “Figures. Found out you were pregnant and ran for the hills? Good guy. You clearly have great taste in men.”
“That is not what happened.”
“Oh no? Then why isn’t he here with you both right now?”
She did not answer.
“Who is he?”
Again, she answered him with only silence.
“I will pull this truck over, drag you and that brat out by your hair, and leave you without hope of medical care. Answer me.”
She swallowed heavily. But she had to reply. He had her over a barrel. And they both knew it.
“I don’t know.”
“What? What don’t you know?”
“I don’t know who he is,” she reluctantly admitted.
John surprised her by laughing aloud at that. “You don’t know who the father of your own child is? Not even a guess?”
“…No.”
“My, my, dear, you certainly must have been busy,” he laughed. “I suppose I should have expected as much from a sinner like yourself.”
Patience turned her glare out the passenger side window, and John let her. The rest of the short drive took place in silence, save the occasional fussing from the baby. She expected him to grow irritated at it, but he didn’t seem to mind, not reacting at all.
Passing through the checkpoint on the mountain road up to John’s bunker had her so tense that she held her baby so tightly he cried at being squished and pinched. Of course, with John driving, they passed through the checkpoint quickly and easily, while Patience shushed and soothed the crying infant quietly, whispering to him.
“Oh, baby, mommy’s sorry. It’s ok, sweet boy, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” She noticed John’s pleased little smirk at her reaction, though he kept his eyes on the road.
Actually arriving at the bunker was much the same, Patience tense and protective at the sight of all the armed soldiers. She stuck close to John’s side, fully aware that the fact she was travelling with this sadistic monster was the only thing stopping her, and probably her child, from being killed on sight. She walked silently beside him as they descended staircase after never-ending staircase, then took so many twists and turns through the halls that she couldn’t be sure he wasn’t taking them on a longer, more circuitous route just to make sure she couldn’t find her way back out without him.
John’s arrival in the medical bay was met with a flurry of activity, medical staff and guards alike rushing up to him, checking that he was well. She rolled her eyes. If this was how they treated him, she didn’t even want to imagine the greeting they’d give the ‘Father.’
But to his credit, not that she wanted to give him any, John was quick to take action, setting the doctors to descend on her instead, explaining the problem was a fevered infant in need of care. She very reluctantly surrendered James to the doctor after explaining, in great detail, everything that was wrong and the timeline of his symptoms and failed attempts at treatment. But, when she tried to follow the doctor and her son back behind the double doors, John’s hand on her wrist stopped her.
“Not so fast, my dear,” he said with a dark smile. “He’s getting the care he needs. Now it’s time for you to uphold your end of the bargain.”
“But I need-“
“No. What you need is to do what you’re told for once in your sinful life. Follow me.”
She met his own disdainful look with a fiery gaze. “If anything happens to him, I will kill you, myself, and every other man, woman, and child in this godforsaken bunker.”
He simply laughed at her threat. “See? This is why I was so certain your sin was wrath. Until today, of course. It could very well be lust, couldn’t it? Your Confession should prove very illuminating.”
Her face paled slightly at the mention of Confessing. It was bad enough, she imagined, to be tortured. It was another thing entirely to willingly sit herself down and let it happen. But she spit out an angry response, nonetheless.
“There is nothing wrong with having casual sex.”
He smiled. “Of course there is. But sinners like you often cling to your sins. Like it or not, your days of whoring around are over. Now, come with me. Cooperate. Or you will never see your son again.”
He turned and walked out, trusting his threat would work. Which, of course, it did. She followed him, knowing he could easily do it. And not just now. At any time. She could tell him everything she knew about the resistance. She could Confess and Atone and be the most devout, pathetic Peggie that ever was. But the second she displeased him, no matter when it happened – days, weeks, even years down the line, he could take James away from her. And who would stop him? Who would take her side over that of their beloved herald?
He led her not to the creepy torture chamber she’d escaped from once before, but to a small room with little more than a bed and table.
“We’ll get a crib in here for the kid, if he doesn’t need to stay in the medical center.”
This was meant to be her room, then. Her cell, more like.
“Meals are communal in the mess. Shared bathrooms down the hall. Women’s and family on the left, men’s on the right.”
She silently nodded. He grinned. He knew she was afraid. It was obvious. He knew she would do as he said. And he was clearly loving it.
He took a pad of paper and set it on the table with a pen. “Sit. Write. Everything you have on the resistance. And don’t you dare leave anything out.”
She grit her teeth but didn’t argue. Patience sat and wrote. Betrayed her cause, her friends. Everything he asked for and a few things he didn’t even think to. Because this was bigger than the resistance, bigger than her friends, than herself, than her morals. This was for her child. And she’d do anything for James.
She wrote and wrote, page after page, while John stood in the doorway, arms crossed and staring her down the entire time. Her hand began to cramp, but she kept writing. She wrote the names of everyone she knew. She gave him a detailed list of upcoming planned ambushes and raids. She scribbled down the coordinates of the Wolf’s Den, mapped out a back way into the jail, and listed everywhere resistance members would regularly meet and plan, from the Spread Eagle to 8-Bit.
A lot of good people were going to die because of these pages. But Patience wrote anyway.
Finally done, she handed the list to John, searing hatred in her eyes. He didn’t seem to notice or care. He simply rifled through the pages, eyes darting back and forth as he scanned them, his expression unreadable.
“This is everything?”
“Yes,” she growled out the word like a curse.
“And this is all true?”
“Yes.”
“Because if it’s not-“
“I know.”
“Good,” he smiled.
“And did you tell your little resistance friends that you were coming here?”
She shook her head no, expression falling as his grin widened. She hadn’t told anyone. She had been afraid they would try to stop her. She didn’t expect anyone else to prioritize the life of her baby over the entire resistance. But now she could see how much more damning the intel she’d given him was as a result. If she’d told them, if she’d even just left a note, they could change their upcoming plans. They could find new meeting spots. They could make sure the information she had wasn’t good anymore. But she hadn’t. And so they had no idea what was coming for them.
“Very good.”
John turned to leave without another word, but she stopped him, a hand boldly fisting in the fabric of his stupid, too-small vest. “Wait!”
He turned to face her, an eyebrow raised at her audacity.
“What happens now? What about James?”
He scoffed and rolled his eyes, like she was little more than an annoyance. And she probably was, in his eyes. She had nothing more to give him.
But he turned back, once again leaning against the doorframe. “What happens with James is up to the doctors. He may have to stay under their care for a bit, or he may be well enough to be back with you by morning. It depends on what his diagnosis and treatment entail.”
Patience nodded, relieved. There was no plan to take him from her, at least for now.
“As for you,” John continued, waving the papers as he spoke, “that depends on if this information checks out.”
“It will.”
“I certainly hope so. Once this information is verified, you will Confess. Assuming you successfully Confess and Atone-“
“And what if I don’t?” she interrupted.
A flash of anger crossed his face, warning in his voice. “Are you refusing me?”
She shook her head no, rapidly, quick to appease him, so different from how she was treating him just hours ago. “No. No, I just mean… not everyone survives. Not everyone makes it through the Confession. What happens to James if I- if I die?”
He smiled softly, reassured that she was falling into line. “Ah, I see. Well, if that were to happen, then James would be given to a good, devout family. He would be entrusted to loving parents who would raise him in the Father’s light.”
She didn’t love that, of course, but it was probably the best she could hope for in these circumstances.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about that, though. You do seem more sinful than most, but you’re also a very strong woman. Besides, I have a vested interest in keeping you alive and saving your soul.”
That was the second time he’d said that, ‘vested interest.’ He’d said it in the truck as well, she’d noticed.
“And what exactly does that mean?”
“It means that should you succeed in abandoning your sinful ways, I plan to keep you as my own.”
He said it matter-of-factly, and Patience felt her face scrunch up in disgust. “What, like a toy?”
John glared, responding in a mixture of anger and exasperation. “No, you degenerate Jezebel, not like a toy! I am a man of God! Not everyone is as lustful and lacking in impulse control as you. Don’t think to compare myself to you, whoring yourself around to the extent you don’t even know where your child came from-“
“That is not what happened!”
“Excuse me? What do you mean that’s not what happened? Did you lie to me? Do you, in fact, know you sired your bastard child?”
“No, but-“
“I knew it. You’re nothing more than-“
“I was unconscious.”
She’s not sure why she admitted it. It really didn’t matter what John thought of her. He was nothing more than a holier-than-thou hypocrite. Patience had read the Book of Joseph; if anyone had spent a significant amount of time ‘whoring around’ it wasn’t her. And it’s not like it mattered either way. People could sleep with whoever they wanted, whenever they wanted, however they wanted, as far as she was concerned.
But at the same time, she wanted him to shut the hell up about it. James’ conception was obviously not a favorite topic of hers, and being mocked about it was pressing her buttons, whether she cared to admit it or not.
And he’d find out eventually. She knew that her supposed lust would be a topic he pressed her on during her impending torture session. And she doubted she’d be able to keep her mouth shut when under the blade of someone who’s spent over a decade torturing secrets out of people. No, she’d certainly be telling him sooner or later. At least now, it was of her own volition, rather than being forced out of her.
“I was unconscious.”
Fuck, she’d never told anyone this. And now she was telling John Goddamned Seed of all people.
“Unconscious? As in…?”
She scoffed. He could torture, maim, and kill, but he couldn’t say the word rape?
“As in I hijacked one of the cult supply trucks. I drove it a decent distance away, then pulled it over. I needed to pop the back, see what was in there, so I’d know where to take it. I was hoping it was food or weapons or something I could use for the resistance, you know?”
He nodded for her to go on.
“But, of course, when I opened it up, it was just bliss. It was packed full of those big plastic drums of bliss oil. But one of them had cracked and leaked all over the truck. I passed out from the fumes. I don’t know how long I was out, but when I woke up, I had been pulled a ways away from the truck, down into a field, out of view of the road.”
Her tone was surprisingly steady, emotionless.
“And you’re certain that’s when you got pregnant?”
Her even tone broke as she sarcastically snapped at him. “Well, the last time I had sex was over a year ago, and I woke up with my pants down and some guy’s jizz leaking out of me, so, yeah, pretty sure.”
John winced. At the vulgar language or at the actual incident, she couldn’t tell.
“I see…”
“Yeah.”
“I’m sorry that happened to you.”
“Fuck off.”
“I told you not to speak to me like that anymore,” he sternly said.
She clenched her jaw tightly, but kept any subsequent comments to herself.
“I’m certainly not going to tolerate that kind of disrespect when you’re mine.”
Patience crossed her arms and huffed in frustration.
“Not mine like a toy, as you so crassly put it. But mine, like a wife.”
Now it was her turn to raise a single eyebrow in disbelief. But John held up a hand, silencing her before she could speak.
“Save your protests. I know exactly what they’d be, and I don’t care. I don’t care that we don’t like each other. I don’t care that we are enemies. In fact, I’d say that makes this all the sweeter.”
“You sure there’s enough room in a marriage for you, me, and your ego?”
“Yes, I’ll admit it would feed my ego to make the figurehead of the resistance my own little wife. It would be quite the blow to them. Or to whatever’s left of them, after I use the intel you’ve given me.”
She scowled.
“This is what I want, and so this is how it will be.”
“And what about the fact I’m ‘damaged goods?’” she spit out.
“That a very un-generous perspective on being taken advantage of. And in any case, we all have pasts. You’ll be getting a clean start after your Atonement.”
She rolled her eyes at his bullshit, brainwashed cult logic.
“And what about James?”
“James is exactly why you’ll agree to this. If you’re to be my wife, he will be my son. He could grow up here, sharing this tiny room with you, living off your allotted rations, being known as the Deputy’s bastard. Or her could grow up safe and protected, wanting for nothing, as the son of the valley’s beloved herald. Certainly a better choice; I’m sure a mother would agree.”
She glared as he smirked, and fantasized about ripping the facial hair off his smarmy fucking face.
“I’ll see you tomorrow for your Confession, dear.”