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inafieldofdaisies · 11 months

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WIP Wednesday | Tagged by @adelaidedrubman <3 | @thesingularityseries @socially-awkward-skeleton @direwombat @euryalex @strafethesesinners @strangefable @nightbloodbix @aceghosts @madparadoxum @g0dspeeed @trench-rot @josephseedismyfather @josephslittledeputy @theelderhazelnut @purplehairsecretlair @jinfromyarikawa @shegetsburned @clicheantagonist @locustandwildhoney @fourlittleseedlings @poisonedtruth @vampireninjabunnies-blog @cassietrn @wrathfulrook @jacobsneed @voidika @harmonyowl @schoute and anyone with something to share <3

This week, I'm treating you all with two snippets: first one is a bonus POV of the confrontation between the unlucky Peggie and Zorro (as part of Chapter 10 because it was floating around in my brain way too vividly not to write it all down; I can picture the whole thing as a cartoon scene and can't help but cackle at poor Owen's fate. Now, I didn't fully snap and write it from Zorro's POV, thought it would have been hilarious.), the second snippet is from Chapter 11 where we go back to John and Sabrina (tension, something, something).

*in my best Julian Slink voice*: Enjoy the show, folks.

obvious warning for the first snippet about descriptions of a racoon attacking a cultist.

"I don't think the Sinner would show up.", Owen muttered as he sat down in one of the old chairs, trading places with William at patrolling the perimeter around the cottage. "We have orders, Owen. Or do you feel like finally facing the fact you ain't cut our for this job?", Constantine smirked at him, lounging back in his seat, clearly enjoying the fact they were faced with another uneventful night shift. Owen was the youngest and most recent recruit between the three of them and the man sitting next to him had spent every waking second in making his life hell since being assigned to work together a few days back. "I know, brother. But don't you want to be out there delivering Sinners to brother John instead of sitting around when the Reaping has begun?" "Are you questioning John's orders?" "No, of course not.", Owen retorted quickly, knowing full well what happened to those that disobeyed the Herald. Constantine only grunted in response, and they sat in silence, watching William do his routine check of the grounds in the distance. Two more of their people were stationed down the road that connected to the property, keeping watch in case the Deputy finally decided to make an appearance at his home. Minutes passed where Owen found himself close to drifting off, overworked from all the long shifts, then a loud noise came from inside the cottage, making him jump in alarm and causing the sleepiness to fully leave his system. "Go check that out, Owen.", Constantine ordered. "Uh-, what if it's the Sinner?" "We're here to capture him, are we not?" "I, just, should I go alone, brother?" "Yes." Constantine was in no mood for arguments, staring at him impatiently and when he saw no movement from the young recruit, he pointed with his thumb behind him, muttering, "Chop-chop, Owen."

Owen couldn't help but think of the stories he had heard about the Deputy taking out every capture party sent his way. He knew he had to follow John's orders because that was the Will of the Father, but it still didn't help the primal fear he experienced at the idea he might come face to face with the one they were tasked to catch. "I will go.", he whispered as he got up and headed for the front door with convinction, the rifle shaking slightly in his hand. Constantine didn't bother with a reply and he wondered if the man would even come to his assistance if something was to go wrong. Owen pushed the door open quietly, his eyes struggling to make anything out in the dark living room, the only illumination came from the porch light and it didn't go too far inside. He stopped at the threshold, listening for any sound and when he came up empty he passed through the doorway with a simple goal in mind: to turn on one of the lamps that he could distinguish as a silhouette ahead of him. The door shut with an unsettling click the second he let go of it to proceed further in and he wondered if it had done it on its own or Constantine was pulling another trick on him. Just as he reached for the switch, he felt something bump into his leg, but he told himself he was just on edge, imagining things. I'm bigger than my fear. Joseph said God will protect us. The words worked at calming his nerves until a sharp pain came in his pinkie as teeth closed around his hand, making him scream out and drop his weapon. He managed to clumsily turn on the light with his other hand and his eyes shifted between his bloodied fingers and a raccoon on the ground, its menacing pose foretelling Owen of more trouble to follow. Shock overtook him as his gaze landed on a bloody piece of sausage at his feet, then moved back to his hand instinctively. No. It wasn't a sausage, but his pinkie. He looked at his hand again, counting his fingers in dread, refusing to believe what he was seeing.

One.Two. Three. Four. No. And no matter how many times he counted, he came up short with one finger.

"OH MY GOD!", Owen shouted, his voice springing the raccoon into action and before he could react the animal launched itself at him, grabbing onto his shoulders. The crazed look in its beady eyes made his blood freeze. Tiny claws dig into his skin through his sweater. "Brother, HELP!", he screamed over and over again as he ran around the room in an attempt to shake off his vicious attacker. Disoriented and in a complete state of terror, he kept spinning in circles and knocking into various pieces of furniture. His feet couldn't stop slipping on the blood gushing from his injured hand, hindering his movements. To his horror, as much as he tried to remove the hellish creature off his body, it continued to hold on with a ravenous look on its small face as it bared its teeth at him. The whole time it produced the most haunting noise Owen had ever heard in his life, it was between a snarl and scream, and he had no doubt it would haunt him in his nightmares. At one point he inevitably stumbled over a chair, finding himself unable to catch his fall since his hands were too busy grabbing at the racoon in desperation to unlatch its claws. The frenzied animal wasted no time when he hit the ground, aiming its attack at his face next and Owen closed his eyes in last last ditch effort to protect his eyes, knowing John would have no use of him if he loses his sight. Save me, Father. God. Anyone. Please.

But no matter how much he prayed, help refused to come and the Devil's pet remained on top of him, nimbling on his long hair, its angry snarling getting closer and closer to his ear. God, it's going to eat me. This isn't how I want to die. "What are you screaming about like a little girl, Owen?", Constantine asked in annoyance, entering the cabin, his sudden appearance making the raccoon finally release its hold on Owen and scurry off towards one of the unlit rooms of the cabin. "It-it bit off my finger. It re-refused to let me go.", Owen stuttered out, holding out his hand, the pain coming to him at once as the adrenaline abandoned him. The sight of his injury and red-hot sensation in his finger made him feel dizzy. Blackness was taking over the corners of his vision quickly and he couldn't understand why Constantine's lips moved but no sound was reaching his ears. "Owen.", was the last thing he heard before he passed out.

"You won't disappoint me, would you, Owen?"Joseph's voice played on repeat in his mind, getting louder and progressively more accusatory as he fought darkness. Those same words were spoken to him on his official acceptance as one of John's Chosen before the Reaping's start. He had felt hope and believed he would be helping the Project to save people's souls, instead he had ended up on cabin watch duty with a partner that hated his guts for no reason. "He's not cut out for this, brother. Can't you see. Defeated by a RACOON.", John's maniacal laughter was deafening and coming from all directions as the racoon's beady eyes and sharp teeth flashed in his memory. "Owen. Owen. Owen.", his name echoed, then he felt a sharp pain in his face. "He won't wake up like that, Constantine.", a voice scolded. "Be my guest then, William. Wake the Sleeping beauty up." The arguing brought him back to reality, the bright light coming from overhead blinding his eyes for a brief second as he forced them open, then they adjusted and took in his two "brothers" looming over him as he laid on the floor. "What happened?", he asked in confusion, then everything came back to him. "You passed out, Owen.", Constantine narrowed his eyes, shaking his head as he muttered, "How did you even make it through your Confession?"

"I bandaged your hand, brother.", William interjected, pulling him to his feet. He eyed him over with concern as he asked, "What happened? Did the Sinner do this? Your face is all scratched up." "Thank you.", he said in a small voice, trying to ignore the blood at his feet and the pain he felt as he stumbled outside, sitting down in one of the chairs again, "It was a-a-a racoon." Constantine let out a guttural laugh, "Oh, mercy me, wait until brother John finds out about this. You couldn't even deal with a racoon? Hope you like roaming in the fields, boy, because you're going to be an Angel soon." "Cut it out, Constantine, or do you feel the need for another Confession?", William sent him warning look as he sat down too, "Show some concern for our brother, will ya." Owen took a deep breath, the throbbing in his hand making him feel nauseous, "I think I need to see a-a doctor." "Our shift isn't over, Owen.", William reminded him quietly, "We can't leave the cabin unattended in case the Sinner shows up. We would have to call this in and it won't end well for you with John." "But-" "You have an issue, take it up with brother Wyatt or John himself.", Constantine gritted out, as he went down the stairs leading off the porch, "I'm going out on patrol next."

The downstairs area was empty, silence ruled over the whole house as she made herself a cup of coffee. She eyed the untouched plate that was still on the table with disappointment and without a second thought she threw away the food, knowing it would hurt Savannah if she finds out when she wakes up that John hadn't eaten the dinner they had prepared. Fresh morning air seeped in through the open window above the sink when she leaned against the counter, holding her almost finished cup of coffee. If she closed her eyes, for a second she could pretend nothing had changed, that Ms. Darcy or Cal would soon knock on the door, stopping by for breakfast. Instead any of that happening, minutes later John finally appeared, entering the kitchen quietly. He was already dressed for the day, wearing a pair of jeans and thin dark sweater with its zipper down, showing off the strange scar on his chest again. "Morning, Deputy.", he muttered as he beelined to the coffee machine. His arm brushed against hers when he grabbed an empty mug from the dish rack and poured coffee into it, not bothering to add any sugar or cream. "Morning.", she responded, her voice was even despite the fact he was standing unnecessary close and his presence that had taken over the room the second he appeared. His eyes darkened, darting to her collarbone, then his hand reached out, fingers grazing her skin as he moved her T-shirt's neckline back into place until it wasn't slipping off her shoulder.

His arm retreated then, but she could still feel its warmth at the place of contact and the way her body reacted to the simplest touch. You're calling this keeping your distance? "Are you feeling like telling me about your tattoo yet?" "What's to tell?" "A lot, Deputy. People usually ink their skin for a reason and what they choose reveals even more about them." "And what if I just got drunk, stumbled into a tattoo parlor and pointed at the first thing I saw as design? What then, John?" "Now, we both know that would be a lie." His gaze remained on hers, the intensity making her clear her throat and blurt out the first thing that came to her mind, in hopes of changing the subject, "I'm going to wash the shirt you gave me and return it-" Amusement flashed in his eyes before he said, "Keep it. But I'm holding you to the promise about my jacket, Deputy. I'd like to wear it again, you know." When he didn't say anything else as he picked up his cup and headed towards the door, no doubt planning to go to the Bunker straight away, Sabrina spoke up. "You promised we'd talk. Are you running off to your "happy place" again?" He shook his head, not bothering to look back at her, "I'm not. I'm going to grab something, I had no idea if you're awake yet with how quiet everything was." John climbed back upstairs as Sabrina took a final sip of her coffee and sat down at the kitchen table, wondering how long he would make her wait on him this time. To her surprise he returned shortly after, placing a black notebook on the table before he took a seat across from her.

Sabrina flipped through it, empty pages greeting her, as he said, "It's for your visions. Whatever comes to you, you write it all down as usual. This time for me." "And if it's nothing of significance? I have no control over what I see or-" "I understand that you can't force them. Just note them down, I will be the one deciding what's important." "Okay.", she sighed.

Deep down, she knew she had an advantage in the situation: the fact he had no way of confirming what she'd actually seen and as result she could in a way control what information he receives. John raised his cup, taking a sip, before saying with a faint smile, "I can sense all the questions bouncing around in that curious mind of yours, Deputy. Shall we get this over with?" I might as well try. "Whitehorse, Joey, Pratt… do you- do you have the others?" His eyes narrowed, making her wonder if she just ruined whatever good mood he was in, "Remember what I told you before?" "That I should worry only about myself?", at his nod, she added, "That's not the type of person I am, John." "They refused to listen to your warnings, Deputy.", his gaze darkened as a frown took over his features, "Then they left you behind for me to find, wounded, if I may say." "After your people made our helicopter crash and-" "Did you even stop to ask yourself why Whitehorse wanted you to arrest my brother. Why he or that arrogant Marshal wouldn't do it instead?" "It's not my place to question his orders." Her words didn't stop him, instead a dark smile appeared on his face, "For years, he chose not to get in our way, "keeping up the peace", he'd call it. But, Sabrina, he was afraid. He knew my brother was right, that there's nothing he could do to stop what's God's Will." "God's Will". There was nothing more she hated than those words, how people hid behind them as they hurt others. She'd seen it so many times. When she said nothing, John continued, probably believing he was getting through to her, "And when "evidence" finally appeared, when old Earl had a warrant, what did he do?"

"Just-" "He put you in the center of everything, Sabrina, basically threw you to the wolves. Did you think he had no idea how an arrest would unfold and what consequences it would bring? You're not that naive, Deputy. Deep down, you know." In a way he was doing what she had tried to do back at the cabin: convince him what he believed was misguided, dangerous. Yet where her words came from a place of concern for him and the people he would hurt in attempts to appease Joseph, here John wanted her to stop asking questions, accept the Project and overlook all the red flags surrounding his brother's ideas. "It wasn't my first arrest, John. I've faced so many criminals, some would make your brother look like a saint. Do you expect me to join the Project and leave all my collegues in Joseph's hands, free to do whatever he decides with them?" "You've been here for what, two months… you owe them nothing, Sabrina, worry about your sister and keeping her safe." Of course you'd say that. "Loyalty isn't determined by time, John. I've made a vow." A vow to her father. To herself. That she would protect people, just like he had done his whole life. Still, Sabrina knew the conversation would lead nowhere, she hadn't expected much anyway. "And Ms. Darcy?" "What about Darcy Harris?", his face was unreadable, the mask refusing to slip even for a second. Sabrina let out a frustrated breath, "Where is she? Locked in that bunker of horrors? I know you two had bad blood." His blue eyes shone at her questions, "My Gate. Are you asking for my alibi, Deputy? And again, you should-" "Worry about myself? NO. You told me to ask questions, I'm doing just that." "They're all where God wants them to be. It's all unfolding according to His plan. That's all you need to know."

"God or Joseph's plan? Because to me, they're two different things." John gave her a warning look, "Sabrina. I'm not getting into this with you." She took a deep breath, knowing she had to be careful how much she pushed, so she kept her silence as her fingers clutched the notebook. "Should I remind you that you're the one that should be providing information according to our deal, not the other way around?" Sabrina fought back a smile at his tone, "I feel like I should have my lawyer present… is this where I demand my one phone call?" John let out a chuckle, "You seem quite capable at negotiations on your own, Deputy." "A compliment? Careful, I might start to think you're impressed by a Sinner." "Impressed?", he licked his lips, "That doesn't seem like the right word to me." "What would you call it then?", the question slipped before she could stop it. "A complete bewitchment.", his intense gaze didn't waver from hers, "When it comes to you, Deputy, I just can't help it. I want to know more." She forced herself to look away, eyes darting up to the window while she attempted to ignore what his tone and the conviction in his words did to her insides. The air grew heavy with tension as he pushed back his chair and stood up, coming to stand next to her, the sudden move making Sabrina scrunch her face in confusion as she stared at him. In a blink, he was cradling her cheek with one hand, the move shocking her not only because of how unexpectedly it happened, but because of the gentleness lurking behind it. "You have no idea about how much danger you are in, do you? You still worry about everyone else but yourself. You're good at pretending, but not good enough to fool me." She tried to keep her emotions in check, but her breath hitched at his next words, his blue eyes pulled her in as his fingers stroked her cheek, "Did you even sleep last night?" She shook her head, hoping his touch would retreat as she did, but it remained, the heat from his palm spreading across her skin as the seconds ticked by. "I'm fine." "I'm not convinced, try again.", that all-too-familiar look was hiding in gaze, holding a dark promise. I have to stop this before you drag me into dangerous waters. "I'm fine.", she repeated, ignoring the giddy sensation she felt as she grabbed his hand and how a part of her wanted to hold his palm to her face, instead of removing it.

John backed away, grabbing his coffee, smirking as he said, "At least you took care of that wound for me. That's progress." Sabrina cleared her throat, moving onto her next question while willing her heart to slow down, "I wanted to ask… What did you mean by staying on the premises? Savannah wanted to go play outside yesterday, but I had no idea what to tell her." "You can go out, Deputy, just don't leave the property or go running off to-", he stopped himself. "Who?" He shook his head, "Nobody." But his face said otherwise, clouded by something she couldn't place. What were you about to say, Seed? "Thank you then.", she mumbled. He turned to the door without replying and was almost out of the kitched when she spoke up again, "Are you headed back there? Will you resort to avoiding me again, now that you've kept your promise?" As much as she tried to ignore the thoughts about what was going down in the bunker, what he was doing… she couldn't, and she swore she'd find a way to stop it. Find a way to get through to him. "They all have a light in them, monkey, sometimes you just have to look very hard until you find it.", her father's words came to her as a reminder that she had to have hope, keep pushing. Seconds passed in silence before John turned, "No, Deputy." No to which… Sabrina gave him a questioning look, forcing him to elaborate, "I'm staying here today, I have some things to take care of." "Oh. Then should we expect you for breakfast?" He gave her a nod, followed by a small smile, "That would be nice." "Savannah will be thrilled, she kept waiting on you to arrive yesterday-" A tired breath escaped him as he whispered, "I'm sorry. For being no-show, when you had dinner ready-", he stopped, eyes darting to the table in realization, "Where's my plate?" "I threw the food away." "Sabrina-" She waved him off, hiding the shock at his apology, burying it deep, "I'm used to it, my mother-", she bit her lip before the rest of the sentence could slip out, knowing saying anything further would provide information on her life. How it would feed his curiosity further, make him crave to hear even more. The less he knew, the better, especially when he viewed secrets as currency. "Your mother what, Deputy?", John raised an eyebrow. "Nothing." "There's something there, I can tell. All you have to do is open up, let it all pour out. I'm a good listener, I promise." "Pass.", she deadpanned. "The offer remains on the table.", he shrugged before heading back upstairs.

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