Work Text
“CONGRATULATIONS DEPUTY!” The office roared as Staci pushed through the doors almost falling back out the way he came—the loud bangs from the confetti poppers shot across the pen sprinkling the floors and the reddening deputy with tiny pieces of coloured paper. “Oh…okay wow guys, this is…unexpected but-” Staci reddened, the embarrassment flooding his cheeks. “Really? That's all you have to say, come on Hollywood don't get shy on us now.” Joey swung her arms around Pratt embracing him in a hard hug, almost always squeezing the air out of him.“Alright alright! Thank you, this is great. I mean it!” he said attempting to push himself free from Hudsons' grasp. The pen held the department members, notably all of them to Pratt's surprise, even Deputy Shaw was awkwardly hanging on the edge of his bench. Staci had graduated to Deputy status, no more ‘Rookie’ no more cleaning duty or following the others like a lost puppy. For once in his life he felt he had direction, despite initially joining Hopes Sheriff's Department to get laid and swiftly finding out that between the retired crypt keepers tending to their farms and bunkers and the younger families already born, bred and settled into Hope, the watering hole was looking empty. Par for Adelaide Drubman who Pratt was certain had a list down of everyone she wanted to jump.Hudson swung her arm over his shoulders and pulled him further into the pen. The other deputies, Sinclair and McNeill congratulated Pratt with hard pats and hoots. He would’ve been lying if he said a part of him didn’t for once enjoy the attention that came from his co-workers. Although the limelight was cut short as Earl cleared his throat swallowing down the last bite of cake that Nancy so generously brought in, “Alright, Sorry to be a buzz kill but the county never sleeps. Congratulations, Pratt.” Earl nods toward him with a smile. Joey released Pratt from her grasp and Earl took a step between them before putting the shiny new badge into Pratt’s hands. “You earned it, son. Keep up the good work,” he said before retreating into his air-conditioned office. Pratt stares down at the badge in his hands. Deputy. Direction. For once in his life he has direction and nothing is going to blow him off course. JUNE. two years before the reaping. The heat is sweltering. Even sitting in the car, the air con blasting a storm attempting to calm the sweat that's building from Pratt's forehead. Even with his thick black hair pushed out of the way by a tiny plastic band Joey gave him, it's not enough to stop the onslaught of the summer heat. Much to his surprise nothing much has changed since he was made a full Deputy. Now he can drive his cruiser without Deputy Shaw fighting him on whether the window stays up or down. Earl trusts him enough to go out without backup, he trusts Staci to take the night shift - much to Staci’s dismay. The nicknames don’t stop, because of course they wouldn’t. Evolved from rookie and kid to a now chosen favourite Hollywood and Princess. Which makes Pratt miss the simplicity of being called Rookie. A flash of white blinks past the corner of Staci’s eye. The radar in his hand flashes and blinks. It takes a moment for Staci to kick himself into gear as he throws the gun onto the dash and watches the white SUV shoot off down the road, kicking up rocks and dust with no care or consideration, “Damn idiot,” Staci sped after, flicking the sirens just once as a warning and much to his surprise…the car slowed and signalled to pull over. There’s always a moment before confrontation that makes Staci’s heart slam against his rib cage. Growing up in Hope he’s become familiar with the type that causes trouble. There are the sharkies of the county, stirring shit up for kicks and adrenaline. There are the invasive drunks that get a little too rowdy with their neighbours, and then there are the tourists that drive in for a few days to hunt or fish, they shit and destroy the local area before heading out like the world owed them something. And this white SUV with Georgia plates seemed like the latter, except the driver stopped, wheeled the window down and from where Pratt was sliding out the front heard no music or noise. He pulled his pad out the side of the door and shut it before walking up to the vehicle. “License and Registration” Pratt said without looking up already noting down the plate.“Sure, here you go, Deputy Pratt.” Pratt looked up from the wad of paper in his hands. His eyebrow raised questioningly at the almost amused tone. He let out a long breath that he had to stifle in his throat. It got caught in his windpipe and he made a half attempt to recover by clearing his throat. He took the papers and card from the redhead who sat alone in the car. The man with furiously bright eyes seemed to almost pull Staci in like a retreating tide. The man was wearing a long-sleeved jumper despite it being hotter than the deepest circle of hell. His dog tags that rested over his chest caught the sun. “Everything okay, Deputy?” He spoke up again, that strong accent slipping through every syllable. He was built, noticeably so with the long-sleeve hugging onto his muscles. “Okay? No. I’m not even gunna lecture you on how fast you were goin’” Staci shook himself out of his daydream, out of his monetary lapse in what he should be concentrating on. “Mhm.” the humm was enough for Staci to feel his legs go weak, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to scream at the guy for being so damn stubborn or offer to let him go free if he could suck his cock in the back of the truck. “I got lost, not an excuse. I had to meet someone about twenty minutes ago.”“Yeah, you're right, not an excuse,” Staci replied to the vagueness of the older man's statement. “What’s so important that you had to go over the speed limit by 20?” Staci shifted his weight from one hip to the other, letting the papers and ID sit by his hip. “Family emergency.” Vague, again. Staci doesn't say anything. The redhead doesn't take his gaze off of the younger deputy either, both of them locked in a stalemate waiting to see who backs down first but Staci refuses to lose.Bringing the man's ID up he scans the photo and information. “Seed, Jacob,” he mutters to himself as he flips the plastic in his hands. “This family emergency need any support from us or an ambulance?” he asks passing back the driver's belongings. The driver's fingertips barely make contact with the back of Staci’s hand but it’s enough to make the hairs at the back of his neck stand on end. “No, I got it handled.” The redhead throws his belongings back into the glove compartment. His hands returned to the top of the wheel with slack. He doesn't seem to be in a rush. The vagueness of it all has Staci's head spinning but so does standing in the midday sun. “is that all Deputy, not gunna write me up?” Shit. Staci rubbed his fingers over his eyes, he had failed to even run this guy's plates, he could be a murderer on the run for all he knew. “No.” he sighed, fighting every instinct Earl had drilled into him. “A strong verbal warning, don't be an ass you could hit a deer or another driver at that speed. Got it?” The driver, Jacob, sits back into his seat a small smug grin tugs at the corners of his lips. Staci knows he’s fucking up. But hell he knows it’ll only be more paperwork on top of the already growing mountain of bullshit he has to write up back at the station and he supposes he’ll never see these Georgia plates again.“Got it.” He said, his voice thick and heavy trying to contain the smugness. “Where the hell did you say you were headed?” Staci steps into a small momentary pace. “I didn’t,” Jacob responds and before Staci can vent back an annoyed frustration Jacob had pulled out a map. Small and most likely from one of the hiking stores. “I’m meant to be at the Veterans Center,” he said as if waiting for Pratt to point him in the right direction. Pratt's brows shift together, “St. Francis?” He says stepping back toward the SUV. “That place has been closed for years.”“That's not what I asked.” Staci looks up at Jacob, taken back by his firm abruptness. He blinks a few times before the driver sighs. Wordlessly Staci points to the top right of the map. A small red smudge in the sea of brown and green. “There. The quickest route is direct from here, follow the main road and cut a right into the north park entrance, it’ll save you some time and a speeding ticket.” Deputy Pratt pushes himself away from the window and the driver with a scowl. “Next time I see you around here I won't be so nice.” Jacob folds the map into his lap and starts the engine. “I don’t doubt that Deputy Pratt,” he said with one final firm look before wheeling up the window and cruising down the road until the white disappeared into the green trees. Staci swallowed hard, pushing his hands through his hair and removing the black band. “What the fuck was that Staci,” he said to the windless space around him. “Think with your badge, not your dick, god damn it!” he kicked at the ground as he made his way back to the cruiser. As he slammed the door and started up the car that nagging feeling on the back of his neck started to poke and prod its way into his brain. Family emergency? Staci wasn't in the business of knowing everyone's business but he was almost certain he could pin a face to the name of all the families in Hope County. But this one? This bright-haired, bright-eyed man in the clean SUV with Georgia plates? Staci had no idea. He pressed his forehead against the wheel, he could already hear Joey’s lecture in his head, and he could feel her talons in his upper arms. At that moment he decided he wasn’t going to tell anyone, not Joey or Whitehorse. This would be nothing more than a singular slip and Jacob Seed would not cross his path again. “Where are you?” Joey sounded rough, sharp like she was three breaths away from reaching through the phone and strangling Staci just to get a bit of stress relief. “What happened to hi, how are you, I'm good yeah thank you for asking!” he spoke into the phone that lay flat on his chest, his hands preoccupied with the PlayStation controller. It was his off day and his off day often meant sleeping around or playing games. Anything that involved staying out of the sun. “So, you're at home.” She said her teeth gritted together, “SHARKY STAY IN THE GOD DAMN CAR!” Pratt paused his game his eyes widening at Joey’s outburst, it takes him all of five seconds to compartmentalize in his head the scenario Joey has had to spend living. He knows it all too well because he’s been on Shark duty more times than he cares to admit.He has to hold himself back from laughing, the cost outweighs the risk. “Y-Yeah’m at home.” Staci clears his throat. “Meet me at the watering hole in an hour.” There is no room for debate, she's already hung up on him and it's enough to make Staci shiver knowing what awaits him at the Spread Eagle if he doesn't turn up on time. He decides to not test fate or piss off the bull that's undoubtedly chased Sharky Boshaw across the county. He turns off his TV and changes into clean clothes, his dark pair of jeans and a gifted Cougars shirt that Virgil so kindly gave to him do the trick. Despite it being a little too small on the excuse that ‘I thought you and my son might be the same size’ which Pratt just politely but painfully smiled at. He drives down to Falls, the burning hot sun sinking behind fields of yellowing corn. He's seen these fields over and over in different lights, colours, and seasons. And yet even 23 years later it doesn't grow old. Staci is the first to arrive at the bar, he pushes open the door to Mary-May stocking the fridge behind the counter. “Evenin’ Deputy” She chimes, her sweet smile with a face graced with freckles always seemed to warm Pratt up. “Evenin’” he gives a half gesture before settling up at his usual spot. “Let me guess, rough day for…”“Oh you are about to get a bull in a china shop” Pratt almost snorts a half laugh as he rests his elbows up on the bar. “She is pissed and I don’t blame her, I've had enough fill of Sharky to last a lifetime.” Mary-Mary’s smile carries into a laugh as she passes him his regular. The local brown bottled beer of whistling beaver cooling in Pratt's hands. “I think everyone has had enough Sharky in their lives.” Pratt waits, comfortable in his silence, absorbing the surrounding noise and chatter from other patrons playing pool. It had been three days since that odd encounter on the road. He had shoved the incident into the back of his mind and hadn’t had much thought about it. However, now he couldn't help but think about what this tourist wanted with an old derelict building in the middle of the forest. Staci sips his beer, recalling the times he and his friends used to hike up the trail on the weekends and sneak in through a broken fence. The place was haunting, looming over the top of the mountain as if spotlighting down the slopes of the whitetails. It felt like a ghost to Pratt. If a place could even be considered a ghost. His friends graffitied childish drawings of dicks on the walls before they set some of their old school books on fire in one of the old metal trash cans. What could a man like Jacob Seed, whoever he was want with a ghost?“When the day comes that we all decide to tie cinder blocks to Boshaws feet and dump him in the henbane I will be the first to cheer.” Pratt is broken out of his thoughts by Joey’s arrival. She's still in uniform although it’s hard to make out the greens from the thick black that coats the fabric. “Do I dare ask?” It’s hard for Staci to not smile, it’s only so often he gets the upper hand on Joey. “No. give me that.” she takes the solitary cold beer that has been sitting by her spot waiting for her arrival. She takes a long large swig before exhaling hard. “Oh god. I'm going to ache tomorrow.” she slumps into the bar table her muscles seemingly becoming jelly. Mary-May comes over, brushing her hand through Joey's undone hair. Pratt sinks back for a moment observing the small gesture that seems to speak a thousand words. He says nothing letting the moment happen quietly. The night picks up and with it Joey's mood. It only takes a few exchanges from both him and Mary-May to pick up the conversation and eventually, the three of them move over to the pool table. The night goes by smoothly and any lingering resentment for the henbane arsonist or the white SUV is replaced by what Pratt feels most comfortable surrounded by, family. “See you, freckles.” Joey chimes as she leaves the bar and Pratt follows in toe after saying his goodbyes. “You want me to drive you home?” Pratt asks as he sinks his thumbs into his belt loops. Joey dismisses him. “Nah, you’ll make me sick if you drive.” “Hey! I am not a bad driver.” “You’re a driver that's for sure.” “Ass.” “Princess.” She stares at him, grinning and Pratt breaks into a smile. “Alright well, I’ll be sure to take your TV and car when I get read your will.” Joey is already crossing the road toward the convince store. “You ain't getting shit in my will Staci!” “Rude,” he mutters before waving her off and walking toward the car park at the back of the bar. His thumbs are still wedged in his pockets as he turns sharply expecting to see nothing more than a few cars. Which he does. Except nestled amongst the greys and blacks there’s a bright white truck three rows back facing the field.Staci can’t help himself. He’s curious by nature in more ways than one and he has to confirm his suspicion that the white truck isn't what he thinks it is. Staci cautiously moves between the closet row of cars, he gets closer, close enough to see the headlights of the car are turned on, beaming out into the field that's flooded with corn.He stops by his own car, the dirt road dividing him from the SUV. The Georgia plates read the same. From his position, the truck bed looks empty. And then he sees him, barely, but it's hard to not see the bright red hair sticking to that shaved scalp. There's a map in his hands. Maybe the same he showed to Staci before but this time he's pointing to it and then to someplace in the distance that has been enshrouded with the dark. Staci squints as if that helps.“Who are you talkin’ to” he mutters to himself before he sees a second person. Someone he can't make out in the darkness. His back is turned, dark hair slicked back and held in place by sunglasses, despite it being almost midnight. Staci doesn't realise how long he's been staring at the backs of these stranger's heads, but it's long enough that a noise across the street breaks him out of his trance. “Damn dog. Anyone seen boomer?” a voice calls in the distance. Staci lets out a shaky sigh and shoves his keys into his car. Only when he gets in after shutting the door does he realise the two men are staring at him. The light from the SUV bleaches out all the colour from the circular spread. Only two pairs of eyes stared at him like lighthouses spotting ships. Unavoidable and haunting. He feels his shoulders raise to his ears as he shudders. He swallows hard finding the strength to blink his gaze away before reversing and leaving Falls End with his heart beating in his chest.