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#mark is so ethel cain coded to me
crismakesstuff · 2 months
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I Am The Face Of Love’s
RAGE
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thelightsandtheroses · 4 months
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six. even the iron still fears the rot
Your Hand In Mine | Joel Miller x female reader.
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Chapter summary: the past comes back to haunt you leading to a drastic decision. Chapter warnings: angst, discussions and flashbacks to descriptions of cults, religion and cult behaviour, past emotional abuse, love bombing and manipulation, the cult leader is a dangerous person, one instance of physical violence, guilt, PTSD , there is the very briefest allusion to homophobia (not direct), flashbacks, discussions of death and canon typical violence, passing mention of being an orphan, breakups, reference to pregnancy (reader is a single mother).  Reader has a backstory but no physical descriptors. Word Count: 4.4k Notes -This is a big chapter, beginning a plot I have had planned for a long time and that I was so nervous about. I must thank the lovely @joelsgreys encouraged and supported me to write this idea from the start. The chapter title is from Ptolemaea by Ethel Cain (who can you believe I only discovered last week?!) Also I changed the image aesthetic a bit as I've loved seeing some other fics with this sort of three pic moodboard recently.
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“We need to talk about the Junction.”
In seven words, Beau and Sean have swept away every sense of security, of hope, of foolish optimism from you.
None of you speak as you unlock the library with shaking, sweaty hands. It takes three attempts to put the key in the lock, you can hear a strange sound, almost like an injured animal in the distance. The three of you walk in.
You lean against the wall, shutting your eyes as you try and centre yourself before you can look at your best friends’ faces.
“What’s happened?” you ask finally. "Why are you bringing up the past?"
Now is not then, you tell yourself. You are not that person anymore - you are a mother, you are stronger, more resilient. You repaired your cracks with gold. You are whole, you are different, you are you.
The Junction has no idea what they’re facing. If they’re here. If this is happening.
Sean reaches into his pocket and produces a small piece of paper. There’s a design on it, simple but familiar.
“Tommy and Joel found this less than five miles away on patrol. It was carved onto a tree.”
“Carved?”
“Yeah, so they took a sketch of it. They were asking around the Tipsy Bison about it, wondered if had seen the symbol before - knew it wasn’t Fireflies or FEDRA, guess it worried them. They showed it to me,” Beau says flatly. “I wondered if it was them, so I went straight to Sean. He said - he said it was, or he thinks it is. We need you to confirm it though.”
“It’s them, isn’t it?” Sean asks, his voice soft and eyes desperate for you to say no, to stop this nightmare in its tracks.
You can’t say it. You can only nod, meeting your best friend’s heartbroken eyes reluctantly.
“Scouting symbol,” you say quietly. ‘He designed it as a code but he designed a lot of things like that, I didn’t expect much  would come of it at the time. I guess -” You pause. “If they’re nearby then it sounds they lost the settlement and have been moving around. I can’t remember exactly what the symbol was meant to mean, but it was definitely for scouting, or to mark - to mark something.”
You thought you would have more time. Time to build something with Joel, to watch Gabriel become the man you know he will be. You had started to hope, to dream.
Dreaming has always been dangerous.
You’ve been on borrowed time for seventeen years.
You expected to panic, to feel more anxious or upset. You had thought you’d sob, fall apart on the floor like you have before, burn with the agony of it all. There’s ice running through you instead and a cool detachment. You don’t recognise your voice, don’t recognise your body. You’re gone, an observer watching a stranger so far away from reality.
“How soon can we get ammo, get supplies?” you ask.
“You can’t think we’re going to outrun this, sweetheart. Not when they’re less than five miles away,” Beau says, shaking his head.
“We’re fucked,” Sean whispers, “less than five miles this morning, they could be - shit. We can’t even run, can we? We’re fucked.” He looks down at his hands, rakes his hands over his hair.
Your past has finally come back to haunt you.
You should have just told Gabriel the truth about his father.  You should have told him where you took him away from.
You should have told him a lot of things.
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2004
“We are at a moment right now where the only thing we can do is change. The old ways failed us; we let our hate, our differences, our selfishness dictate our lives and we have all paid a price for this. In our loss, in their names, we stand at a junction and we have a choice right now. Will you listen to me? Will we move forward together and carve a new path, take the route to peace and away from the horrors we have seen?”
The world’s changed a lot in the last six months. Pandemics, death, a whole new dictionary where abbreviations like FEDRA, QZs mean something now and some many words have become redundant. There’s been a lot of death. Survival, that feels like the best outcome right now, living feels like something impossible.
They’ll find a cure soon. The smartest people left in the world are working on it.
They’ll find a cure soon.  This can’t go on like this forever.
They’ll find a cure soon. There’s no other option.
One day in a year or two, you’ll look back on this with Sean and giggle. Do you remember the winter of 2003? Do you remember when we had to live in a QZ and when mushrooms became sinister for a short time? It’ll be something to tell your grandchildren, huddled around a fire and after a long and normal life. You’ll go back to cinemas and dinner at restaurants, to finally getting broadband installed, to a future. There will be scars, of course, but society will move on before you’ve even recognised those.
Humanity will survive, it will endure this. You have to believe that.
There are rumours though - rumours of life in and outside the QZ being lawless, of the loss of society, that humanity isn’t thriving right now.
You had different plans for this year. You didn’t expect to be in a small one bedroomed apartment with Sean. You didn’t expect to be an orphan - or an assumed one at least. Maybe they’re still alive. You hope they are, hope their flight made it to their location, that Cordyceps isn’t so bad over there. You wonder what their lives are like - a two-week vacation that’s turned into months. You’ll laugh about this with them one day.
You live in denial because it’s easier. Because one day this will be all a bad memory. You’ll be back on the path towards the life and career you were working towards, and the months spent picking up shifts in a laundromat and community kitchen to live in a run-down building will soon be a distant memory.
You meet him on a Tuesday. You’re at the laundromat and reading a battered library book, enjoying this rare moment when you’re alone,  when he walks in.
There’s something about him that immediately commands your attention. He’s tall, muscular and carries himself with confidence.
“Hi,” he says, noticing you watching him.  “Haven’t seen you before.”
You nod, placing your book down quietly. “There’s only one dryer working, I’m afraid.” You’re not sure if there’ll ever be more than one dryer working at this point - there’s a shortage of parts and tumble dryers are hardly a priority right now. The one working dryer will just become a Frankenstein of other machine parts, of hope and duct tape until it finally dies. Maybe there will be a cure by then though.
“That’s no worry. I’m Ethan,” the man replies with a faint smile.
You say your name in response and he repeats it like he’s trying to store it in his memory. You feel exposed, perceived in a way you hadn’t anticipated.
You suspect though. You suspect that somehow an axis has marginally tilted, a change has occurred.
You don’t believe in love at first sight. Life isn’t like a movie after all, or if it is, then right now it’s only a horror film. You don’t believe that you can just fall someone instantly. Or you didn’t.
It’s magnetic, his energy, his charisma. You love how his voice sounds, the way his hair falls slightly into piercing eyes. He speaks with care, looks at you like he really cares what you think to his words. He reminds you of the men you’d fantasise about meeting while in college. You thought you’d just wander into a coffee shop on your way to your next seminar and there he’d be.
Even here in a dingy and dirty laundromat, you feel those butterflies.
You’re sure you’ve never met anyone like him before and you have a sense that you will never meet anyone else like him.
You have no idea how right you are.
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“Is it a church thing? Really?” Sean asks, taking a gulp of water before leaning against the kitchen sink. “I thought you said after your parents -”
“I don’t think it’s really religious,” you say, “Ethan told me it was more about a sense of self than anything theistic. It’s like a support group from what he said.”
“Thought you hated therapy.”
“Yeah, well, then the world ended.”
“Touché. Can’t you go alone?”
“I could, but I don’t want to,” you say, a teasing smile as you meet your best friend’s eyes.  “I want you to meet Ethan. Tell me what you think.”
You need Sean to meet Ethan because it feels like Ethan could be important. You want Sean to like him, to approve of him. You need to him to.
“I don’t know, hon, it sounds - I don’t know what it’s about.”
“Sean, it’s just a workshop, what harm could it possibly do?”
Sean cocks an eyebrow and sighs. “Fine, we’ll check it out. How bad can it be?”
Famous last words.
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“The Junction is here. Humanity has failed in our mission, but it isn’t all lost. We can start afresh, become something better. Every one of us in this room has hope, has what is needed to rebuild our world to save us. The threats of cordyceps, of violence cannot stand in our way …  we must not let these evil forces win.”
It starts so slowly. You become friends as he frequents the launderette more and more. You get to know each other..
You’re not what sure to expect from his workshops but his words are compelling. He makes sense. What he says is rational - until it strays into something else, but it’s still got that root of logic. He’s just stressed, you reason, more people are talking about the workshops.
You fall for him.
He brings you a bunch of roses to the laundrette. Roses.
You haven’t seen roses since the outbreak, you’re not sure anyone has ever bought you flowers like this. You have no idea how he’s got them, but he’s got them for you.
He’s so smart, so compassionate and it’s more than that, he really listens to you. Falling in love with Ethan is the easiest thing in the world.  You hadn’t spent much time dating before the outbreak, had been too afraid in the immediate aftermath. You think Ethan might be the first man you’ve ever fallen in love with.
He starts to invite to sit with him at his workshops, places an arm around you when you speak in sessions. You swell with pride because out of everyone, he’s chosen you.
So you drag Sean to more workshops, you bring friends from your apartment building. You want more people to hear Ethan because he’s changed your life. What else could he do for people?
Time passes. Ethan’s language starts to change again. It’s starting to shift from collective processing of the trauma, the unceasing horror of the last year to something different. It’s less about you all and more about Ethan, about his visions and him. Ethan knows the way through the Junction.
He’ll lead you all through.
It’s your fault really, what happens next. You set everything in motion. You’re almost mugged on the way home from the launderette one night. His next workshop talks about the pain of this post-cordyceps world, of the way FEDRA encourages lawlessness to steer us from the right path, towards evil and ruin.
He says that the QZ is actively fighting against you all need to do. It is fighting for the wrong turn at the next junction. That can’t happen. You can’t raise a family here, make a life, not when society continues to fall apart in front of you. You’re scared walking to your apartment at night now, so you think he must be right. There’s the possibility of something better with him.
So when Ethan says maybe it’s time to leave the QZ, you think he might be right. Of course you’d go with him, where else could you go? You beg Sean to come with you, you’re terrified he’ll die when the QZ falls otherwise.
That’s another mistake.
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2005
“The thing is, it’s not about cordyceps. Not really. That was only the vehicle to lead us here, to show me the way forward. We must build afresh here. I have been spoken to and I know this - this community is the only way humanity survives. I will lead us to ensure that humanity is not lost. We had to leave the QZ because the agents of chaos and evil were there, they knew what we needed to do, they knew my mission. We have a chance here. We have a chance here to grow and survive and thrive. This is my mission, our collective goal. The Junction will succeed where FEDRA failed, where the old ways. I received a message; we’re heeding it by being here. The hard work is being done now. The Junction is the future.”
The Junction move to what was once a gated community many miles outside of the QZ. It’s self-sufficient to a point, with high walls, generators, and access to facilities. In some ways,  it’s almost like a miniature QZ- it’s better though.
 A former resident suggested the location to Ethan and he said he knew right there and then it was where you all need to be. He said it was a sign; that he was told everyone needed to be there.
It’s going to be idyllic. That’s what he’s promised. It’s what you believe.
You love him.
You marry Ethan on a summer’s day to the entire Junction as witnesses. You are so in love, you don’t see the looming clouds, the storm ahead. It’s a whirlwind romance, a sign of hope in this terrifying world. Your relationship, he tells you, is a symbol for all of his followers, it’s the lynchpin to keep your community together.
You read through his notes, they’re less like inspirational words and more like sermons now, but he says that’s fine. He says he’s spoken to the Divine . It’s his duty, his destiny. It’s yours to help him too.
You believe he is a good man. It’s your responsibility to help him lead everyone through this mess.
You love him.
When you’re in love you can excuse things though. Those subtle language shifts: we to I, debates on decisions to instructions, the focus on how you represent him as opposed to how you feel, what you want.
The pressure starts to constrict around your neck just a little. It’s all becoming too much, you’re not Ethan, you don’t know how to be a leader, or a leader’s wife.
You take every note he offers in the spirit of self-improvement , tweak every behaviour to get things right. Ethan needs this from you.
The Junction needs this from you.
You need to do better.
You love him.
And if you notice the way Sean’s brow furrows every time you speak or see him now, the way he shakes his head sometimes, or the way he opens his mouth but doesn’t seem able to say the words he wants to,  you put it aside. He’s struggling to adjust - that’s all.
It has to work here.  If it doesn’t, you know you will die outside the Junction, that the QZs will already be falling. Ethan tells you he’s heard on the radio numerous have already fallen. You can’t find the same messages on the radio when you try alone though. You believe him though.
You’re the last stand for humanity.
This is the only way.
Ethan is your only option.
You are so in love with him.
Time passes. There’s a bad harvest, the seeds don’t take. Ethan says, it’s a sign the group’s faith is false, that they are somehow poisoning the group. Ethan becomes obsessed with the fact he needs to root the traitor out.
You’re not allowed to proof-read his speeches anymore, not involved in his congregation. He won’t discuss his beliefs, his visions with you.
You are in love with him though.
His eyes on you feel searching, scathing, and sinister.
You start to feel scared; a twisting sense of sickness and fear that perhaps this, this isn’t going to be okay. This isn’t just an intentional community, is it?
You have doubts about Ethan too, about the glint in his eyes, about the way he sometimes talks about Sean or other congregants, about you. 
He doesn’t like you leaving the house these days because you keep saying the wrong things, keep unintentionally undermining his views. You stop answering the door to Sean, you listen to old radio broadcasts and wish you could be a better wife. A better believer.
After one sermon, he breaks the radio by throwing it against the living room wall. Your world becomes so much smaller again.
The doubts are getting louder now. Maybe the Junction is … no, that word belongs in movies and tv shows, in a time that’s long since passed. However, maybe it’s not what you thought. Maybe Ethan’s not what you thought.
It’s just … you really do love him, right?
“Is it you?” Ethan asks, eyes wild and desperate. You’re not sure what’s happened; one second you’re in your kitchen, sitting at the table and talking to him and now you can feel the cold wall against your back, Ethan’s hot breath so close to you, the feel of his hand on your hair. “Are you the reason why? Are you the reason why this is falling apart? You don’t believe, do you? It’s you, it’s you. You’re a curse, you’re a goddamned curse.” “Of course I believe, of course I do.” “You’re lying.” He’s right about that. Ethan is not who you thought. The Junction is dangerous. You need to leave. You know this now. You don’t want to die here.  You don’t want Sean to die here either; you bought him into this mess, the two of you need to leave this place soon.  Alive.
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Jackson, WY, 2024
There isn’t much of a choice. You need suppliers, weapons, a plan before you can even think about leaving Jackson.
Beau’s right - this isn’t something you can outrun. It isn’t as simple as it used to be. Gabriel’s too old to be told he’s going on an adventure and cheerfully tag along without question - it was hard enough getting him to leave Kansas.
There’s Joel too, Ellie … you don’t know what to tell them.
You know that Jackson isn’t safe with the looming threat of the Junction. You’ve built a life here; a home and you want to protect that.
Besides they could already be here, you think, mentally running through every trader or newcomer you remember seeing in recent weeks.
“Is everything okay?” Gabriel asks softly, sitting next to you on the faded couch. “Beau and Sean seem … tense.”
“They’re fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
Gabriel frowns, looks away.
You could tell him. He’s sixteen. You could tell him the truth. He wants the truth.
You can barely live with it though; barely live with your own part in it all. You proofread his sermons. You want to give him a father that’s safe, a memory of a good man. Not a deranged, dangerous cult leader.
The air is thick with smoke. You can hear the flames consuming the wooden building, can hear people yelling in the distance. Your distraction failed. There’s a gun in your hands, aiming at him. You can’t stop shaking. “Just - just let us leave,” you say desperately. “You’re my wife.” “Ethan -” “You’re pregnant, you think I didn’t know?” Your panic heightens. This is the reason you’ve been desperate to escape with Sean, to find somewhere else ... you didn’t think he knew. “I won’t let you go like this. I won’t let you take a child from me.  My child. They’re going to - when he’s born, everything will be okay again.” No. Ethan cannot be in your child’s life. You cannot raise a child in a cult. You raise your hands once more and pull the trigger.
“You know I love you, right?” you ask your son.
“Mum,” he groans, sounding out every syllable - the epitome of a teenager, ”Of course I know that.”
“Good, I’d do anything for you, kid.”
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 Love.
It’s a strange word; a weapon, a revelation, a lullaby. You grew up with messages about soulmates, about princesses finding their Prince Charming and happy-ever-afters. The world changed; those views were exposed for their naïveté more than ever. It became a dream. Something for other people, not you. Then you met Ethan and love became real, tangible. Dangerous.
You didn’t want that type of love again. Relationships were casual, you kept detached, held something back.
Then Joel stole your goddamn bench and ruined everything.
You feel an ache in your stomach as you watch him working on the porch of an empty house. The mailbox says it belonged to the Bensons, you wonder where they are, what became of them, who will move to this house one day.
“How is it?” you call.
Joel looks up and over at you, a smile widening.
You want to drink in every detail of Joel, commit every freckle, the feel of his fingers on your skin, the sound of his voice as he talks to you, the way he looks when he wakes up … every single part of him.
“Hi,” he says lowly, wincing slightly as he stands up. “It’s in pretty good shape actually - just the porch here needs some work.”
“Wow,” you say, aimlessly swinging your hands as you move closer to him.
“How’s the library been?”
“I wasn’t there today,” you say, honestly, “I had to help Sean.” Not that either of you achieved much. You were in the greenhouses and spent most of your day planning, panicking, and pacifying your anxieties.
There were no immediate solutions to the situation you’d found yourselves in so none of you slept much last night as the worry permeated your mind. Except for Gabriel, perhaps - your beautiful son, the reason you needed a better plan.
Well, there are other reasons too.
Joel touches your shoulder gently. “You okay, sweetheart? You look -”
“Don’t, don’t you finish that sentence, darling,” you say in your breeziest voice.
Joel frowns slightly, furrows his brow.
“How’s Ellie?” you ask, desperate to get this conversation back on track.
“She’s good. Gabriel?”
“I think he has a girlfriend,” you admit, giving yourself just a moment of normality. “Or boyfriend. I think he’s dating, regardless.”
“Oh yeah?”
“Uh huh, he’s got the signs.” It pulls at your heart; your son won’t want to leave Jackson. He’s building a life here. A decent one.
You were starting to do the same.
“I am not looking forward to that with Ellie,” Joel admits.
You raise an eyebrow. “Really? You’re worried?”
“Who doesn’t worry?”
“Touché.”
“So, what’d I owe the pleasure of this visit to?” he asks, honey sweet as he slips his hands around your waste, leans close to you, his lips on the edge of your collarbone. “not that it isn’t a highlight of my day.”
“Just wanted to say hello.” You feel the heat of his breath as he chuckles, kissing you briefly.
He smells like soap and the outdoors. There’s a lingering hint of mint, of firewood too.
“That works for me.”
He guides you against the wall and as he works his way up your neck, to your jaw, mumbling sweet nothings against your skin, you wish it could be different.
You want to stay here in this moment, or at least you want to stay here with Joel right now.
They could already be on their way.
“Joel -”I love you.
The words hang in the air, unspoken but clear. He must know, surely?
“Yeah?” he asks, looking at you carefully.
“I don’t think this is working anymore.”
You know you shouldn’t look at him, but you owe him this at least.
His face crumples; confusion, shock, uncertainty. You watch how he works through every moment before shaping his expression into something blank, a look you haven’t seen him wear before.
“Why?” he asks gruffly.
“I just think we need to pause things.”
“Is it because of what happened with Ellie?”
“No, no, not at all,” you say in a panic, remembering the stern conversation you’d had after Ellie’s suspicious accident.
Joel is in the kitchen with his arms folded, flannel rolled up to his elbows and his  scarred, tanned skin exposed. “Total honesty […] that goes both ways, sweetheart.”
Joel was right and he deserves honesty, he deserves someone who can tell him their truths, but you can’t. Not yet.
Not when Gabriel doesn’t know, not when you fear the inevitable judgment on Joel’s face. You helped him edit his sermons, you married him, you didn’t see it until it was too late. Ignorance doesn’t excuse complicity to you though.
You need to protect Ellie too, protect Joel, protect Jackson as well as your family. The Junction would be so dangerous to them - they’re an invasive species, they see something habitable and they would take it over, spread the rot from inside. They might already be doing that.
You can’t be with Joel right now. You just can’t.
A thousand words sit at your lips; you will yourself to give him some sort of explanation, some sort of better parting. When you’re dead, he’ll remember this. maybe it’s better this way. You ruin yourself to him now so he doesn’t have to mourn you, so you’re not another loss or excuse to shut his heart away. You are committing a kindness to him and incomparable damage to yourself because you do love him. You do, you love him in a way that terrifies and soothes you all at once. You feel like it’s been years and decades but maybe Joel is the right person for you at last.
You will not damn him to mourn another lost love though.
This is a kindness.
“I’m sorry,” you say flatly and you step off the porch and away from him, unable to look back in case he disappears.
It’s for him, it’s for him, you’re doing this for him, for Ellie, for Gabriel, for Sean and Beau. This pain is your penance.
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