Cabin Wife

by Mov_14

Summary:

Laura Lee just wanted Jackie to do something. Jackie just wanted to be useful. Neither of them expected she’d wake up three days later to Akilah asking if she could “stay up late tonight” like Jackie’s her actual mom.

Notes:

Set somewhere in late Season 1 timeline, no bear, no pit girl, but plenty of awkward domestic wilderness hijinks. Jackie is trying, bless her heart.

(I AM SO SORRY FOR EVERYONE WHO CAME FROM THE ORPHAN ACCOUNT, I THOUGHT IT WAS STUPID GRAHHHH COME BACK 💔)

Chapter 1

The thing about being captain of a state-champion soccer team is that in New Jersey, that means something. It’s a crown. A scepter. People listen to you.
The thing about being captain of a soccer team in the wilderness is that no one gives a shit.
By day fourteen, Jackie Taylor has realized she is… not an asset here. She’s not hunting, she’s not chopping wood, and she’s definitely not trudging out into the dark to pee behind a tree like some kind of animal.
Shauna, when pressed, tries to sound diplomatic.

“You’re great at… organizing morale.”

Which is Shauna-code for: just don’t get in the way.

Laura Lee doesn’t like the tension. She can feel it every time Mari sighs extra loudly when Jackie asks where the matches are, or when Van “accidentally” hands her an empty bucket.

So one afternoon, while everyone else is out gathering wood or setting snares, Laura Lee sits next to Jackie by the cold fireplace.

“I think you just need a job,”

Laura Lee says. Jackie blinks.

“Like… wilderness LinkedIn?”

“Cooking. Cleaning. Stuff we need to keep camp running.”

Jackie thinks about it. She’s not squeamish about laundry per se—she’s squeamish about laundry in a cabin that smells like damp socks and trauma. Still… she’s bored enough to try.

And it turns out… Jackie’s good at it. Like, frighteningly good. Dinner is hot. Beds are made. The cabin floor is swept. She starts folding blankets in tight hotel squares. She teaches Akilah how to slice vegetables without losing a thumb. She mends socks. She alphabetizes the spice tins.

By day three, people are just… handing her things.

“Jackie, can you fix my sleeve?”

“Jackie, can you make sure the fire stays lit until we get back?”

“Jackie, can you talk to Javi? He won’t eat unless someone sits with him.”

It’s not until the night Javi falls asleep on her shoulder and Akilah calls her “Mom” that Jackie realizes something has gone horribly sideways.

She corners Laura Lee the next morning.

“I think I’ve been domestically promoted without my consent.”

Laura Lee blinks.

“To… what?”

“Cabin Wife. Possibly Cabin Mom.”

Laura Lee tries not to laugh—she really does—but Jackie’s serious face cracks her composure.

“Okay, maybe you’re just… approachable now.”

Jackie glares.

“Approachable is for librarians and flight attendants. Not me.”

It only gets weirder.

Van calls her “boss” but in the kitchen voice, not the captain voice. Mari leaves her little “grocery lists” in the form of sticks and berries on the table. Travis thanks her for “holding down the fort” like she’s his 1950s housewife.
Shauna, somehow, is the only one who doesn’t notice—probably because she’s busy avoiding her own mess of feelings. Coach Ben notices, but keeps sipping his tea like he’s watching a live-action sitcom from the corner.

Finally, after Akilah asks if they can “have pancakes for breakfast tomorrow,” Jackie drags Laura Lee outside for a strategy meeting.

“You have to help me. This is your fault.”

“How is it my fault?”

“You’re the one who put me on this job track! Now they’re all looking at me like I should be knitting them sweaters and tucking them in at night.”

Laura Lee tilts her head.

“Is that so bad?”

“Yes! I used to be cool!”

Jackie snaps.

“I was a leader. A captain. I can’t be… Cabin Mom.”

There’s a long pause. The wind whistles through the trees. Somewhere inside, someone calls her name to help stir the stew.

Laura Lee smiles.

“Maybe you’re still a leader. Just a different kind.”

Jackie thinks about that for a long moment. She still rolls her eyes, because God forbid she admit Laura Lee’s right. But when she goes back inside, she does it anyway—she stirs the stew, shoos Javi away from the hot pot, and tells Akilah they’ll talk about pancakes tomorrow.

If this is what survival looks like for her… maybe she can live with it.

Even if she is Cabin Mom.

Chapter 2: Pancake Diplomacy

Summary:

Jackie agrees to make pancakes. Unfortunately, the wilderness didn’t get the memo about maple syrup, spatulas, or flour that isn’t 75% mystery lumps.

Jackie wakes up to Akilah hovering over her like some kind of breakfast ghost.

“Morning! Are we still having pancakes?”

 

Jackie blinks blearily. Her first thought is why is it so cold in here? Her second thought is right… Cabin Mom.

“Sure,” Jackie says, because she’s an idiot.

 

---

The problem, Jackie quickly realizes, is that “making pancakes” here is nothing like the nice Saturday mornings she remembers from back home, where you could just open a box and add water.

Problem one: The flour has a weird smell. Mari swears it’s fine. Jackie is unconvinced.

Problem two: No frying pan. Only a warped cast iron skillet that looks like it’s survived a war.

Problem three: No syrup. Not even honey. Just… melted snow water and a vague promise from Laura Lee that “we can improvise.”

 

---

By the time Nat and Travis wander in from hunting duty, the cabin smells faintly like burnt dreams. Jackie is crouched over the skillet, flipping what can only be described as “breakfast frisbees.”

“Is this… edible?”

Nat asks, peering into the pan.

“Define edible,” Jackie mutters.

 

Akilah, bless her, gamely takes a bite and chews for a long, thoughtful moment.

“It’s… crunchy.”

“It’s supposed to be fluffy!”

Jackie protests.

“I think the flour’s attacking me.”

 

---

And then, somehow, it turns into a thing.

Javi sits at the table, stacking the pancakes into a tower. Mari starts a betting pool over whether Jackie can make one without burning it. Travis claims he’s “helping” by poking the batter with a stick. Shauna walks in, looks at the chaos, and just walks back out.

Laura Lee is the only one who tries to keep things on track.

“Okay, maybe if we add more snow water—”

“We are NOT making pancake soup.”

 

---

Eventually, they end up with a small pile of vaguely round, vaguely cooked pancakes. Everyone gets a piece.

“They’re… not bad,”

Van says with her mouth full.

“You’re lying to make me feel better.”

“Obviously.”

 

Even so, everyone eats. Because, well, it’s food. And because Jackie made it, and apparently that means something now.

 

---

That night, Jackie finds a folded note under her blanket.

Thanks for breakfast — Javi

 

She stares at it for a long time. She’s not sure if she’s proud or annoyed or both.

When she tells Laura Lee about it, Laura just smiles.

“See? You’re a leader.”

“I’m a short-order cook.”

“Same thing out here.”

 

Jackie rolls her eyes. But she keeps the note anyway.

Chapter 3: Best Friend Tax

Summary:

Shauna notices how much of Jackie’s time is swallowed by “cabin wife” duties. She tells herself it’s annoying. But the more she watches, the more she realizes it feels like something else.

Notes:

This honestly started as a joke, lmao

The thing about Jackie’s new “job” is that apparently it’s a full-time position.

Shauna doesn’t mean to keep track, but she does. She can’t help it. She notices how Jackie is always—always—doing something for someone.

“Jackie, can you fix this?”

“Jackie, Javi won’t eat unless you sit with him.”

“Jackie, my blanket’s drafty—”

Jackie does it. Every time. Not with enthusiasm, exactly, but with this stubborn determination that makes Shauna want to shake her and tell her to stop.

And every time Shauna catches herself feeling that way, she bites down hard on the inside of her cheek.

Because… why does she care?

The first time Shauna feels the jealousy bloom, it’s small.

Javi is curled up against Jackie on the cabin floor, his head tucked under her chin like she’s his sister, or maybe even his mom. Jackie absently runs her hand through his hair, focused on mending one of his socks.

Shauna stares too long. Long enough that when Jackie glances up and catches her eye, Shauna snaps her gaze away like she wasn’t just—what? Staring at Jackie holding someone else close?

She tells herself it’s nothing.

The second time, Akilah interrupts them.

Shauna and Jackie are finally—finally—sitting together, half-whispering about some stupid inside joke from school that no one else would understand. It feels almost normal, like the cabin walls aren’t pressing in, like the snow outside isn’t waiting to swallow them whole.

And then Akilah plops down right next to Jackie, holding up a knife.

“Jackie, can you show me again how to cut carrots without slicing my thumb off?”

Shauna is halfway through saying she’s busy before she stops herself. Jackie’s already taken the knife, already shifted into “Cabin Mom” mode, already forgetting the thread of the conversation.

Shauna swallows the sudden heat in her chest.

By the time Mari starts leaving “grocery lists” on the table—little piles of berries and sticks with scribbled notes—Shauna is simmering.

She tries to frame it as annoyance. Jackie’s letting them walk all over her. Jackie’s wasting time. Jackie’s acting like she’s their… housewife or something.

But deep down, Shauna knows it’s not about that.

It’s about the fact that Jackie isn’t hers anymore. Not fully.

One evening, the feeling boils over.

The cabin is loud—Van and Mari bickering, Travis poking at the fire, Laura Lee trying to read something from the Bible while no one listens. Jackie is at the center of it, dividing up bowls of stew like it’s her sacred duty.

When she finally sits down, it’s next to Javi, who immediately leans against her. Jackie smiles faintly and adjusts her blanket so it covers him too.

And something in Shauna just—snaps.

“Do you ever get tired of it?” she blurts.

Jackie blinks at her.

“Of what?”

“Being everyone’s… I don’t know. Babysitter. Maid. Mom.”

The words come out sharper than she intends.

The cabin goes a little quieter. Tai raises an eyebrow. Van smirks like she's in on some joke nobody else knows about, Tai responds by elbowing her to stop.

Jackie’s face tightens.

“Well, someone has to keep things from falling apart,”

Jackie says coolly.

“Yeah, but it’s like—you let them treat you like you’re… like you’re not even—”

Shauna cuts herself off. She doesn’t even know what she’s trying to say. Not without saying too much.

“Like I’m what?”

Jackie demands.

Shauna’s mouth goes dry. Her pulse is hammering in her ears.

Like you’re not mine anymore.

But she can’t say that.

So instead she mutters,

“Like you’re not you.”

--

 

Later that night, Jackie corners her outside. The air bites cold; their breath fogs between them.

“What was that about?”

Jackie asks. Her voice is sharp, but underneath it there’s hurt.

Shauna stares at the snow, at the endless dark beyond the treeline.

Shauna can’t explain it—not the ache in her chest when Jackie laughs with Akilah, not the way she grits her teeth when Javi curls up against her. So she shakes her head, helpless.

“I don’t know,” she whispers.

Jackie studies her for a long moment. Then, softer:

“Maybe you do.”

Shauna looks up at her, startled. Jackie’s face is unreadable in the moonlight, but her eyes linger, searching.

And Shauna feels that heat again, the one she can’t name, the one that tastes like jealousy but burns like something else.

Notes:

I'm a sucker for some JackieShauna...