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carnivalcarriondiscarded · 9 months

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heya, i have to wake up in three hours but! here's another lil human au snippet! ft. lightly implied Laughingstock! disclaimer i am so so tired so don't come at me for typos or strangely worded sentences or missing info <3

Before heading home, Eddie swings by a charming little store he’s been to once or twice before. He usually goes to the chain store by his house, but he doesn’t feel like dealing with the hustle and bustle and the endless aisles. This little store is quiet, nice, and strangely has everything anyone could need.

The lot is mostly empty at this hour, so Eddie claims a spot right at the front. As with the other times, the windows are littered with displays and stickers - half off on this, sale on that. Eddie enters Howdy’s Place with the chime of the door’s shopkeeper’s bell. He’ll get what he needs and get out, quick and easy and peacefu-

Boisterous laughter slams into Eddie like a hammer, so sudden that he jumps in place. An employee stocking cans nearby glances weirdly at him. Eddie clears his throat and hurries into the nearest aisle as the laughter tapers off. The silence barely lasts a second before loud chatter starts up. It’s too fast and muffled for Eddie to understand, but he can pick out two distinct voices - one deep, one less so but still decidedly masculine.

Eddie tries to tune it out as he gathers what he needs. Toothpaste, some paper towels, shampoo. For the hell of it, he nabs a box of classic bran muffins from the spacious food section. He lingers for a moment, enjoying how far-away the conversation seems at the other corner of the store. Unfortunately, theft is illegal, so Eddie is forced to move towards the noise.

A strange thing about the store - it’s a combination general store, antique shop, and diner, complete with a miniature gift shop separating the two. One long checkout counter stretches from the open store area, behind the gift shop, and into the diner, where the conversation is coming from. An interesting setup, but an understandable one. It allows anyone behind the counter to move fluidly between customers and sections.

As Eddie approaches, the conversation becomes slightly clearer.

“-said, no wonder you didn’t get her number!” the deeper voice barks, and the two dissolve into that almost-too-loud laughter again.

As it tapers off, the other voice says, “Sounds like a real charmer! But really, you oughta be careful, Barn. One of these days someone’s gonna throw a right hook at ya.”

Eddie’s eyebrows shoot up. A transatlantic accent? He hasn’t heard that anywhere outside of real old movies and a queen he once knew. It sounds natural too, like the man was born to sound like he belongs on a 1920s radio show. It nudges something in the back of Eddie’s mind. He’s started to get really sick of that nudge.

“Oh, this guy did.”

“No kidding? I don’t see a shiner.”

“Well, yeah. I went left.”

Both of them laugh again, and Eddie feels a tiny tug at the corner of his mouth. That wasn’t funny enough to garner an actual laugh in his opinion, but it wasn’t unfunny.

Eddie steps up to the counter and quietly puts his acquired items on it, not wanting to interrupt. He chances a glance to the side - walking space in front of the counter’s length lets him see right down into the diner.

A large man with dyed-blue hair and an interesting fashion sense is at the bar, talking to an employee leaning against the other side. The employee doesn’t really catch Eddie’s gaze, but the other man… Eddie swears he’s seen him before. He studies him from the corner of his eye, not wanting to be rude but unable to mind his business.

“Our bouncer didn’t even get a chance at the action - the idiot knocked himself out tryin’ a second swing!” The customer says. His deep voice, wavering with humor, only adds to the sense of familiarity. Metal glints in his right ear. Eddie knows this man from somewhere.

The employee shakes his head, tutting. His busy hands polish a vintage pitcher. “I swear, you get all the crazies.”

“Makes for a good story, though.” The customer takes a sip from his tall milkshake and scoffs. “Though if it wasn’t all well-ending, amusing bull, I doubt I’d be so tolerant.”

Minutes drag by as the two keep talking. Eddie goes from patiently waiting to awkwardly trying to get the employees attention. If only there was someone else behind the counter, but the only other staff member is elsewhere, likely still stocking shelves.

The two men are too absorbed in their little world, even though both are facing Eddie’s way. The customer has both elbows on the counter, one of them bent to prop up his chin. The employee has his hip leaned against the edge as they chat. They’re obviously very familiar with each other, and clearly deeply enjoy each other's company.

Still - and Eddie is sorry to say, but it’s bad customer service. He’s not in a rush, but he’d still like to be on his way home. He could be fishing out the complex keys right now. He checks his phone - he’s been here for nearly fifteen minutes. Picking out the items took less than five.

Eddie sighs, staring at the various cigarette packs displayed behind the counter. He’s never seen the appeal in smoking, but as the laughter starts up again, he almost wishes he did. He’s going to treat himself to a very long shower once he gets home.

The store’s other employee walks behind the counter, carrying a box. Eddie lights up. Finally - she pointedly clears her throat and heads into the back.

The constant conversation stalls for the barest moment, and he looks over. The customer grins at him for a second - lord he’s handsome - before turning that grin towards his friend.

“You’re losin’ your touch, Howds,” he teases, bringing his shake straw to his lips.

“I resent that statement. You’re just distracting.”

“Lil’ me? Distracting? C’mon, you can just tell me I’m pretty to my face. I’ll take it like a champ, I swear!”

“Ha, good try.” The employee sets the pitcher down and starts to mosey in Eddie’s direction. “Your ego is big enough for the both of us as is. One more compliment and your head’ll pop like a balloon.”

“Well, given that most balloons don’t really pop, they just kinda deflate slowly-”

“Sorry for the wait!” the employee says loudly in a glaringly obvious customer service tone. He stops in front of Eddie with a cardboard smile. At the other end of the counter, the familiar man snickers and hides his grin behind his drink. “I trust you found everything you did - and didn’t! - need.”

Eddie just stares up at him for a moment. At six-one, Eddie hasn’t felt small in a very long time. He usually stands at least a full inch above other people. This employee - Howdy, his name tag states - has several more on him.

“Uh, y-yes, I uh, I did,” Eddie stammers, glancing at his items.

“Wonderful! And again, my sincerest apologies for the delay. My friend makes a game out of keeping me from my job.” Howdy shoots his ‘friend’ a glare with enough heat in it to make an ice cube sweat.

“No worries.”

Howdy scans the items at an almost frightening speed. Beep, into a paper bag. Beep, in. Beep, beep - “Oh, no.”

“What?” Eddie says, dread plucking at his ribs as Howdy holds the bran muffins and shakes his head. “Is there somethin’ wrong?”

“Indeed there is! You’re making a mistake with these. They’re absolutely horrible, I tell ya - and bad for you, too!” Howdy tuts and puts the box to the side. “No, no, you don’t want those.”

“I… don’t?”

“Not if you knew better! Lucky for you, I’m here to set you straight. What you need is-” he snaps his fingers, “Barnaby, be a pal and-”

“Already on it,” ‘Barnaby’ says, appearing next to Eddie.

If Eddie weren’t already paralyzed, he’d jump right out of his skin from how Barnaby towers over him. He has to be a scant inch or so shorter than Howdy, but he still makes Eddie feel tiny. Unfortunately, Barnaby is even more handsome up close.

“Here ya go.” Barnaby hands a plastic container to Howdy and taps it, smiling lazily down at Eddie. “I’d take his advice on this one. Those bran-named muffins may sound fancy, but they’re pretty crumby! You want muffins of quality. Real breadwinners!

Eddie can’t help a soft laugh. “Breadwinners, heh, that’s a good one.”

“Are you selling these or am I?” Howdy says, raising a bushy eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m just doin’ what you asked! I’m bein’ a pal.”

“And I - I’m sorry," Eddie interjects, "but you’re awfully familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

“Eh, I’ve been around, but uh… you ever been to [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE]?”

Howdy clears his throat. “I’m trying to make a sale here, Barn. You can flirt on your own dime when you’re not costing me mine.”

“Didja know your nose gets redder when you’re jealous?”

Howdy rolls his eyes and shoves Barnaby in the diner’s direction. Barnaby goes with a hearty snicker. Despite the joke, Eddie thinks it has some merit as Howdy scans the final item and rings him up, considerably frostier than before.

Belatedly, Eddie realizes that he didn’t actually agree to the different muffins. Too late now. “Say, what kind of muffins are those?”

“Poppyseed-lemon.”

Eddie relaxes - that is a lot better than boring bran. “Y’know, my mother loved poppyseed-lemon muffins.”

“Did she now,” Howdy drawls.

“Like you wouldn’t believe! If baking was so much as mentioned, she’d jump right on houndin’ us to whip some up for her, or send us to go buy some. We’d never even get a taste! They’d be gone the moment they hit the air, I tell ya.” Eddie chuckles. “Took me a while to understand what all the fuss is about, but man was she right. They are good!”

“Uh-huh. Well, we have a fresh batch delivered every morning. They’re not the same type every time, mind you, but I can promise that they’re all of the highest quality.”

“Breadwinners, right?” Eddie jokes. Howdy doesn’t blink, but Barnaby snorts. He’ll take it. “I might have to come by more often, if that’s the case! Thank you kindly, sir.”

“Mhm, have a good day.” Howdy hands him the bag and strides away without a glance. The dismissal is clear as day. “Say, Barn, did you hear about the racket one of those cult crackpots stirred up at our dear friend’s tearoom?”

Eddie doesn’t catch the tail-end of the sentence as he hurries away, but he frowns. Cult? What cult? There’s a cult? He certainly didn’t hear of one before moving here, and none of his background checks had turned up anything of the sort. He hopes it was just a figure of speech.

The door chimes again as Eddie leaves. It isn’t until he’s in his car that the embarrassment of that whole exchange catches up with him. If he had a nickel for every time he’d made a fool of himself in front of a gorgeous, strangely familiar man, he’d have three nickels. At the rate he’s going, he’ll either be rich, or he’ll have to move.

Eddie subtly tries to peek around the store’s window displays from the safety of his car. He catches a scant glimpse of blue hair - come to think of it, it’s a similar shade to Wally’s. But where Wally’s had, to Eddie’s memory, been uniformly dyed right down to his eyebrows, Barnaby’s rich brown roots were obvious. His beard and eyebrows weren’t dyed, either.

As Eddie relaxes back into his seat, he re-reads at the store’s name. The color drains from his face and he barely restrains himself from slamming his forehead against the steering wheel.

Oh, of course. Of course he made a fool of himself in front of the owner. Eddie can never come back here again. And it was such a nice store…

#wait wym this is almost 2k words what the Fuck!#ok! the writing gods blessed me tonight i guess!#anyway slight context -#in my mind there's a whole Plot and stuff for this au #where it starts off with eddie running into The Group™️ and meeting them mostly separately #before they all meet up and go 'hey yeah you guys ran into eddie from high school too? cool. he's ours now'#and forcibly drag eddie into their little Circle #wh modern human au #snippets from the bog #also sorry about the [INSERT GAY BAR NAME HERE] lmfao i cant come up with one atm #i want it to be wh-related and Clever #but i am not very clever on a good day and this has been a bad one! and again! im tired!#i. dont know how to tag this. whatever! if you see it you see it!#ok im going to sleep. for a whopping three hours before my alarm goes off. *less than three. Sigh.#i always do this! its like 'oh i have to wake up early tomorrow! lets not sleep at all! im feeling so creative!'#gonna go think about this au's laughingstock as i drift to sleep #FOR THREE. HOURS.#have i mentioned the three hours????

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inafieldofdaisies · 8 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @socially-awkward-skeleton

This week we're circling back to the main WIP through a snippet featuring Cal, Sabrina and her defense of John. *oof* Leslie needs a hug too, for real.

"Drop the weapon and turn around, I won't ask twice." This voice… Sabrina complied, crouching down slowly, one hand discarding her weapon on the ground while the other used the opportunity to pull out her throwing knife out of its holster. "Now turn around.", the gun poked her between her shoulder blades again, and she willed her heart to slow down, refused to let panic overtake her with her life on the line. She stood back up and spun around, in one swift move the blade was at the neck of the man holding her at gunpoint, giving her a leverage after being snuck on. "Technically, you did ask twice, you mo-", the words died in her mouth the second her eyes registered who standing in front of her. "Gray?", Calahan muttered in disbelief as he reached out, removing her cap, "It's you. You… WHAT THE HELL?" "Kid.", Sabrina withdrew her hand, shock washing over her at the realization how close she had been to injuring him and before she could react he had her enveloped in a hug, "You're okay. Thank fuck." Hartley held her at an arm length, eyes full of concern as he examined her all over to confirm his words. "I'm fine, Cal. Seriously.", she let out a relieved laugh as she sheathed her knife and bent back down to pick up her gun, "I should be the one asking if you're okay, I almost stabbed you in your carotid." "Not gonna lie, that was kind of hot.", the remark was followed by one of his usual winks.

Low whimpers behind her paired with paws scratching against metal snapped her back to reality, erasing the smile off her face, "We have to get Boomer out." One carefully aimed shot was all it took for the lock to give way, and Boomer wasted no time, rushing at her and almost knocking her to the ground the second she raised up the door of the cage. "Hey, Boom.", Sabrina crouched down and stroked him on the head, "At least you made it… for once, not everything was in vain." "I can't believe you're here. That you're actually okay. Fuck.", the way his voice shook took her aback, and she couldn't help but send a worried look over her shoulder, finding him staring at her like she would vanish if he lets her out of his sight. Eyes ran over his his denim jacket that had seen better days with a couple of faded crimson stains seeped into the light material, making her hope none the blood was his. A sniper rifle was strapped to his back, his weapon of choice he had used to take out all the Peggies around them shortly before her arrival and save her the trouble of having to face John's men. Now freed, Boomer had quieted down, standing close to her and watching the younger Deputy in anticipation, tail wagging slightly. "Who's a good boy?", he bent down, taking his turn to greet Boomer, then he turned to Sabrina, "Let's go inside, I have so many questions and so much to catch you up on." She winced, "I doubt you'd like anything I would tell you…" Calahan was the first to cross into Rae-Rae's home, his features twisting into a deep frown at the bullet holes marring the walls and doors, and the way the Peggies had wasted no time rummaging through the woman's belongings, strewing anything they hadn't deemed of use to the Project all over the place.

"Ryan?", Sabrina hollered, rushing to search each room, checking underneath the beds and any hiding spot big enough to conceal Rae-Rae's boy. Cal shook his head, "I don't think he's in here, Gray. Haven't see anyone aside from the Peggies and you. When I got to my spot, Rae-Rae was already dead." "Fuck." "Yeah, things are bad, but now that you're here, there's hope. You were always the voice of reason, keeping me in check…", he furrowed his brows, "I thought John Seed had caught you, Gray, that it's just me from all us not in the Seeds' clutches." Sabrina took a seat on the couch, while Boomer rested his head against her knee, the heartbroken look in his dark eyes making her wonder if he was aware of his beloved owner's fate. Her chest felt heavy and she dreaded having to break the news to Calahan as he paced around the living room, almost wearing a trail in Rae-Rae's carpet. "Cal, I-" "I kept hoping you'd meet up with me that goddamned morning, so many times I looked back, telling myself I would see you emerge from the shadows", his voice choked up, and he blinked rapidly before taking a deep breath, "I thought I lost you, Gray. First I feared you haven't managed to get away, then everyone kept telling me you probably died to a trigger happy Peggie… But I knew better, I felt it."

"Calahan.", Sabrina stopped him, "I didn't escape. Not really… I made it out of the helicopter, managed to crawl away with my head spinning like crazy, then John was there, looming over me with this victorious smirk like he'd finally brought a game to an end…" Something about the way she had said his name, caused Hartley to pause his pacing, "That bastard." "I tried to shoot him, Cal, but only ended up passing out at his feet." "So it was you on that road with him. I received intel about a sighting of you, with John Seed. I couldn't wrap my head around it… why you'd be there." She nodded, "I woke up in an empty cell at his bunker, kid. Ended up being escorted to a torture room-" Calahan's eyes shone with fury, "Did he lay a hand on you? First Hudson, now you, I swear, I'm doing my own version of a Cleansing the moment I see him." "Joey? What's happened to her?" He remained silent, heading for Rae-Rae's TV and turning it on as he said, "It might be better to see it with your own eyes. He's taking matters beyond what you call 'tasteless advertisement', Gray." John's face appeared on the screen, his piercing blue gaze making her shiver through the recording the same way it did in person anytime he would aim it her way. But this was another side of John, before her was the man that was the face of the Project, his act carefully crafted to lure you in, fool into false pretense of security and acceptance. Staring at him was like going for a swim in a the calmest of waters, submerging fully only to encounter the shark that was lurking beneath the surface all along. She used to naively joke about his billboards, about how bizarre his old broadcasts were. All that now felt like it was thousand years away, belonging in a simpler times.

"Even the Father knows deeply of sin. It's a poison,", the outfit he wore was the same one he had on as she sat in his horror movie worthy room, his plane jacket that she had seen in his office bearing a familiar dark stain, her blood. Somewhere along the way before their confrontation where she had figured out his identity, he had taken his time to film a new broadcast, even more chilling than any of his previous ones. He spoke of the "Power of Yes" in the same matter-of-fact, cheery tone he used in his address that was blasting outside the house. Then Joey appeared on screen and Sabrina choked back a sob at her state: the duct tape stuck on her mouth, mascara covered cheeks, fresh injuries that didn't seem to be from the crash alone. "No.", her eyes brimmed with tears like Hudson's, pain shooting through her heart as she faced the ugliness of reality. "He's been playing this on a loop all over the region. Calls me daily, taunting me about Hudson, my impending 'Cleansing' and how I'd be joining her soon so he can save my soul.", Cal muttered, fidgeting with his zippo lighter. Sabrina knew the clicks of it brought him comfort, helped him to keep his anger in check anytime it would reach a dangerous point. "I'm so sorry." "I watched that damned broadcast so many times, looking for you, hoping I've missed you in the crowd, praying I didn't because of what it would mean. I suspected he must have you after the way he stared at you in Joseph's church." "Stared at me how?", she asked in confusion, her time at the Compound feeling like a blur, as if covered in a fine layer of mist she couldn't quite push through. "Like you were his next meal.", Hartley gritted out.

"Cal." "What happened, Gray? Because I'm so lost and I need you to tell me Mary May ain't right to worry you've turned or have been playing us all along, working for Joseph." "You think we're safe in here? There's a lot to cover, kid." "As safe as we'd be in Holland Valley while John Seed is still breathing." "I just need you to remain calm and listen, okay? Promise me you will." Calahan rubbed at the stubble covering his jaw, "I will do my best. Can't promise my fist won't go through any walls, I'm barely holding it together here." As if sensing her unease, Boomer raised his head to glance at her, offering her silent support, "One of his men tied me to a chair, there was a table full of tools, hinting torture was next on the menu. I grabbed a knife, cut myself free, but the damned door was locked, Cal." Sabrina shivered as she recalled the long wait until John had finally shown up, how she had imagined any possible outcome and never making it to her sister. "I waited what felt like hours until John appeared, I was planning on killing him, I truly did. He stood between me escaping that bunker and getting back to Savannah." Calahan's eyes shifted to hers in panic, making Sabrina add, "She's okay, kid." "Thank God. I avoided your cabin, knowing the trouble it would bring to her and Ms. Darcy. Why isn't he dead, Gray?"

She took a deep breath, mentally preparing herself for Hartley to look at her like she's lost it after her next words. The truth sets you free, right? It certainly had with John… she was freer than most people in the Valley, it seemed. Or safer at least. "I've been having visions since I can remember, Cal. Glimpses… of the future, oftentimes I wouldn't be able to even place them or they'd be useless as seeing someone have a stupid, mundane conversation. This is the part where you tell me it's impossible? That I'm certified.", she let out a humorless laugh. Calahan shook his head as he finally sat down next to her, "You saw something at the church, didn't you? It why you hesistated to arrest the fucker. You were so damn pale." "I got a vision of the crash, how they were taking away the others. I tried to help, but-" "We didn't listen. Fuck. I'm so sorry, Gray." "I'm used to it by now. It's more surprising when people believe me.", she gave him a sad smile, "So anyway, John comes in, starts talking about how much he knows about me, how I'd confess all my secrets to him. Turns out telling him he won't be getting shit from me is the wrong thing to say, he lost it and got all up in my face, and all I could picture was slashing his throat, leaving him to bleed out. But then I saw his tattoos…" Hartley had grown restless the more she spoke, flicking his lighter open and closed at an alarming rate, the sound echoing as her words died down. Sabrina reached out, stopping the haunted movement, palm covering his hand.

"Throughout the years, I've seen a lot of things, there was something that remained a constant, a man, I could never quite see his face, Cal, but his tattoos are practically embedded in my mind by now." "No way. Those ugly ass scribbles he has going on?" Sabrina nodded, "It was his tattoos I was seeing all this time and it stopped me, made me doubt if I'd succeed at killing him, if it won't make things worse for me." Calahan had a strange look on his face, "Why?" "Because none of the visions involving him had taken place yet, which meant he would live." "This is… Jesus.", he shoved his free hand in his jacket pocket, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and lit one quickly, taking a deep pull before muttering, "Forgive me, Rae-Rae." "I know. He asked me what I've seen at the church, suspecting something had happened. I came up with a plan… to use his curiosity, his hubris to my advantage. I needed to 'confess'." "Gray, that shit means nothing, those damned broadcasts about confessing your sins, confessing doesn't get you-" "Not my 'sins', kid, but about my ability, that I could be of use to him. I couldn't try to be a hero, I had to get back to my sister alive. And it worked… eventually he brought me to his office, and we made a deal for him to bring me to Savannah in exchange of knowledge." "You joined them?", Calahan's voice was cold, distant. "I didn't join anything. I offered him my notebooks where I kept notes of my past visions, he could have them all for all I cared. He met Savannah and I-I managed to convince him to not bring us back to that hellhole. She's at his ranch right now, I sneaked out because I saw a vision of Rae-Rae, hoped I'd be able to warn her.", tears were threatening to escape, to spill out like her words had, "But I was too late."

"This is insane. A deal?", he pushed off the couch, returning to pacing, concern mixing with his anger as he swiveled to face her, "How can you trust him? He fucking had you tied to a chair!" Sabrina bit her lip, "I know how it sounds, trust me. But it's the only choice I had and still have." "We can get her, Gray. Right fucking now. Have Savannah in Fall's End before John knows what hit him." "And then hide or constantly be on the run with him pissed off because I've broken our deal and fled?" His blue eyes darkened as he took another drag of his cigarette, "I told you I'd kill him, now feels like the perfect time. Bet it would be hard for him seek revenge when he's dead." The thought of the man she had looked for all these years getting killed by another that had become like family to her threatened to split her heart in two, "He's just one head of the snake, Joseph is the one pulling all the strings." The edge to his words chilled her to the bone, "I will see how old Joe likes it when I personally deliver his brother's corpse at his church's doors, no hiding behind a warrant or upholding the peace this time around. I'm torching the whole place to the ground, like they did with the Sheriff's. What I should have done long time ago, really." Something darker, haunting, filled with regret lurked behind his last remark. "No."

Sabrina got up too, trying to keep panic out of her voice, knowing it won't do her any good in her attempt to make him see reason, to stop him from rushing headfirst into his own demise and taking someone she cared for down with him. "You can't kill him." His laugh was void of any humor, "Can't? Or you don't want me to? Because take one look outside and what Joseph turned us all into - killers." "We can use him, make him see.", she steeled her gaze, "He's not too far gone." Or at least she hoped it was true, holding onto every moment they had shared that told her as much. "The guy that ties people to chairs in his bunker and carves sins into them ain't too far gone?", Calahan seemed less than convinced as he searched for something he could put his cigarette out on, finally dropping it into a half-empty cup of coffee. The same one Rae-Rae probably hadn't gotten the chance to finish when John's men had stormed her property, set on seeing their mission through. Carving? What the fuck are you doing, John? She avoided asking what he meant by it, sensing a landmine in hiding. "He's not-" "He's not what?", there was a disbelief in his tone when he cut her off. "I know it makes no difference, but he's not tying people up himself." "Great, so he's entitled on top of being a violent psycho. Must be all that money… fucking attorneys."

"Cal.", Sabrina pinched the bridge of her nose, watching him open and close Rae-Rae's cabinets on another hunt for God knew what, "Can you please just sit down, you're making me jittery as hell." "There you are.", he exlaimed as he pulled out a liquor bottle out of one of the cupboards, downing a drink before pouring himself another and walking back to the couch with the glass clutched in his hand like a lifeline, "Don't look at me like that. It ain't early for a drink now. And even if it was… I'd say the circumstances excuse it." "I'm not-,", she shook her head, "I'm worried about you, kid. Have you eaten-" Calahan walked over and pulled her into his embrace with his free hand, the scent of smoke wrapping around her like his arm did, "You're something else, you now that? You're basically a hostage and worrying about me eating." He pulled back, offering her a small smile, "Back to the 'John can be redeemed' argument now that I've gotten my dose of liquor courage. And look, I haven't even punched anything yet." She lowered herself back onto the couch, gaze focuse on Rae-Rae's backyard through one of the living room windows when Hartley took his previous seat next to her. "He hasn't 'carved' anything into me." A groan ripped free from his chest, "Yet." "There's a different side to him, one I'm willing to fight for." "You mean different than that?", Calahan pointed at the now muted TV playing John's broadcast on a neverending loop. "Yeah."

"In what way?", curiosity shone in his blue eyes. "He helped me make breakfast. He was worried about me when I got hurt and kept us out of that bunker." Hartley whistled, making Boomer's ears perk up as he remained curled up by the couch, "Romantic. Leslie can also make breakfast, you know? And better yet, he's not part of a cult." Sabrina blinked at the sudden mention of her ex-partner, the squeak of the front door as it swung open, making both of them jump from their sitting position and point their guns at whoever had decided to try sneaking up on them. "Cal, you in here?" It was as if time stood still where she stared at the man that filled up the entryway of Rae-Rae's house. Where she told herself what she was witnessing was impossible. Then one simple word sprung her into action. "Rina?" Sabrina was rounding the couch the second her nickname rolled off his lips, and Leslie set off towards her too, meeting her halfway. An arm snaked around her waist, the other holding a shotgun while her hands clutched at his leather jacket. "What are you doing here?", the question was met with his laughter, and she couldn't help but blink back another wave of tears that wanted to escape. "What do you think?", she pulled out of his embrace, her eyes meeting his, "I came to see you."

A fake cough sounded behind them, "Just reminding you two I'm here in case a make-out session ensues…" Sabrina spun on her heel, "Why didn't you tell me, kid?" "You found her.", Leslie chimed in at the same time. "Sure, I will take the credit.", Calahan raised his glass and took a generous sip, "Now, sit down, chief. Gray was in the middle of telling me all about John Seed's 'sweet side'." Parish complied, perching himself on one of the armrests of the couch while she stared at the two of them, shock coursing through her system. "John? Sweet?", he frowned as he patted the empty space next to him, and Sabrina shuffled over reluctantly, "Why were you two talking about that fucker?" Calahan left his glass at the coffee table that was moved away from her usual spot by the couch and lit up another cigarette, "Well, well, well, fuck me, if things ain't about to get interesting. The next couple of minutes consisted of her catching Leslie up on the attempted escape, her short stay at the bunker and finally coming clean about her visions. "So this is how you knew Kim will be having a baby girl?", Parish asked as he accepted the drink Hartley had poured for him, "Why didn't you tell me, Rina?" "I was afraid…", she muttered slowly, gaze glued to the intricate pattern on the carpet below her feet, "that you would look at me differently or worse, not believe me at all."

His hand came to rest on top of hers, "You know me better than that." "I do." "And John… is the 'mystery man'? You two haven't met before you moved here." She nodded and offered him a sad smile. "You're certain it's him?" "I am." Leslie rubbed at his lip, a telltale sign he was deep in thought, whispering a quiet, "Fuck." Calahan was sitting down on the floor a few feet away from them, cross legged, stroking Boomer's head as the canine snuggled against his knee, "Speaking of Johnny… how are your breakfast making skills, chief?" Sabrina's eyes widened, "Don't start." A wicked grin was pointed her way, hinting at his intentions, "Can't do. Tell me, Gray, have you noticed perhaps that Leslie here looks like a certain someone?" It was Leslie's turn to send him a look of warning, "Cal. I do not." "He practically can be John's double, unfortunate fate considering the current state of the County." She crossed her arms over her chest, "Les looks nothing like John." The words won a grateful smile from Parish, "Thank you, Rina." "Tell that to all the folks I had to stop from killing him,", Calahan paused, "you're welcome by the way." Her face twisted in concern, "People have been threatening you?" "It's fine. Nothing I can't handle." "Wouldn't call it fine.", Calahan argued, "But my point is… you have a perfect John candidate, Sabrina, sitting right next to you."

Parish finally brought the glass he'd been holding up to his lips, "We're not going there." "Absolutely not going there.", Sabrina repeated for good measure. "You sure?", Hartley cocked his head to the side, "He's also taller than good old Johnny, has a voice that doesn't grate my ears, especially when he says 'Deputy'." She rolled her eyes, "I happen to like his voice, thank you very much." The moment the words left her mouth, she wanted to slap a hand over it, especially with how his lips twisted into a devilish smirk, "You sure about that? Check back with me when it turns out he chants 'Yes' over and over when he comes…", his voice pitched in an attempt to mimic John's, something she wished to unhear, "'Yes, Deputy. I'm so close. YES. YES. YES.'" By then Leslie's glass was empty, and she was tempted to pour herself a drink as well, "Cal." "What? You two think he doesn't? I'd go as far as to bet on it. Bastard sure loves the word." "I really don't want to visualize my best friend in bed with another man." Sabrina hitched her thumb towards him, "Exactly." Calahan chuckled darkly, "Though luck, chief. Your best friend has been seeing it for years." "Calahan!" "Look at me,", he pointed at his eyes, "and tell me you haven't, not once, seen a vision of Johnny in a compromising position. The noisy part of me wants to know, you know… but then when I think more about it, I feel like puking."

"I haven't.", she retorted quickly, cheeks heating up at the lie. "Liar." "Drop it, Calahan." "The more you deny it, the less I believe it's all innocent, Gray. How R-rated did it get, though?" All he got as reply was silence. "Fucking ew. That bad?", his first covered his mouth, before he muttered to himself, "Johnny must have some hidden moves." "Calahan." Leslie cleared his throat, running a hand over his face in exasperation, "Can we change the subject?" "Sure.", Calahan said with a nonchalant shrug, "I can just circle to it later. Now that I have you here, Leslie, maybe you could get it through her skull that she can't be staying with him at his ranch. Deal of protection and spicy visions be damned." "Where have you been staying, kid?", Sabrina uttered out. He scrunched his nose, "Mary May's couch, turns out my cabin has an cult infestation problem, thankfully Zorro held the fort until I arrived. Haven't slept that well with people getting snatched and killed left and right…" "Exactly. I can't risk Savannah's life. You know how they say, 'Better the devil I know, that the one I don't'? John's that. A safer alternative than the unknown." "How safe of an option is he really, Rina?"

Calahan chimed in, pulling out his lighter again, watching the small flame dancing before he extinguished it, "I just can't imagine you and Savannah under the same roof with that bastard." "He's actually different around her. It's kind of scary how easy he switches roles. From this,", she gestured to the TV, "to a man that carries me to bed because he refuses to let me sleep outside. 'Can't let a bear eat me.', he said." "Have you though even for a second he might be playing you. Trying to lure you in, so you join the fucking cult." "I won't. And I don't think he is…" Hartley rolled his eyes, sending a pleading look towards Leslie who remained awfully quiet, "For fuck's sake. Help me over here, Parish." "He hasn't told Joseph about me, Calahan. He's keeping it a secret, keeping my visions a secret." "Or he's lying, and they're both laughing at how trusting you are." "No." "How can you be sure?", he scoffed, "The bastard is a master manipulator, a sleazy lawyer that stole half the County's land for the goddamned Project and had Whitehorse shaking in his boots, and you… are next on his to-do list. Literally too, I guess." "That was something Joseph put him up to. Me… if he really knew about my visions, I'd be dead by now. Even John couldn't deny it." "Good old Joseph, oh, how he'd lose his mind if he learns 'God' has been showing visions of his brother fornicating to someone else, he'd probably die from the shock before I have the chance to kill him.", he narrowed his eyes, a look of disgust passing over his features again. "Can you please stop talking about me and him in that way?" Leslie spoke up for the first time in forever, "Dito."

"Sorry, Gray. But I'm still trying to wrap my head around the fact you like the guy… with his weird fashion sense, questionable siblings and, I don't know, the giant knock-off of the Hollywood sign he had them Peggies built for him." "You're forgetting the billboards." "Thanks, chief. Billboard, broadcasts,", Calahan blew the flame of his lighter, watching it come to life again, "posters of his face all around his bunker, I'm being told by trusted sources. That true?" "Yeah. I saw a couple." His eyes lit up all of sudden, "Oakley bet me $50 a while back that he has a sex room in the ranch." "Are you for real?" "As serious as me promising I'd be setting his 'YES' sign on fire and taking selfies underneath it, perfect lighting and all that. So, does he?" "As far as I know… no?" "Not a definitive answer then?" Leslie got up without a word and walked out into the backyard, the two watching him as sat onto the picnic table there with his back to them. Calahan released a laugh, "I think he had enough of me." "You think?" "Now it's just us…", he lowered his voice, "Those visions… was Johnny that good, promise I won't tell a soul?" "Focus." "Yes or no?"

Tagging, @poisonedtruth @direwombat @adelaidedrubman @josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @trench-rot @g0dspeeed @madparadoxum @purplehairsecretlair @aceghosts @shegetsburned @jillvalentinesday @nightbloodbix @wrathfulrook @florbelles @corvosattano @voidika @theelderhazelnut @chazz-anova @clicheantagonist @cassietrn @stacispratt @simplegenius042 @thesingularityseries @eclecticwildflowers @dumbassdep and anyone that would like to share a wip ❤️

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