Chapter 15: Regrets

The following weeks crawled by at a snail's pace. The same routine happened day after day. Awkward chatting at breakfast, inner thoughts while doing chores, and the overbearing silence and tension that followed them within the four walls.

It was a waiting game. A stressful, grueling waiting game. Even Joseph was starting to get antsy. As closely as he kept an eye on Mary, her behavior or mannerisms didn't change at all.

The Father kept himself busy with reading, meditating, praying and taking care of the bunker and Mary. Anything to keep his mind busy, otherwise he would think too much.

The Deputy was good at hiding it, but the stress and anticipation of waiting for answers chipped at her every passing day, every leaden hour. She really kept herself busy in order to not think about it. Chores, puzzles, arts and crafts. She talked to her friends, the Drubmans, over the radio for hours every day.

Joseph allowed it for now. Mary needed the distraction to keep the stress at bay. And he didn't need to strain their relationship anymore than it already was at the moment. He was having a hard enough time trying to get back into her good graces. No need in making it worse.

The preacher had once compared trying to woo the Deputy on the same level as wooing a grizzly bear. That had been before his big revelation of their purpose to Mary though. Now...now it was more like trying to woo a tyrannosaurus rex - a hangry, rabid one.

He could only imagine how she would be while hormonal and pregnant. The former cult leader shivered at the thought, even though little else ever made him shiver. God would make sure he received his due punishment one way or another before he got his reward.

Joseph doubted Mary would find the humor in that the way he did.

But she was sleeping now anyways. She had gone to bed early, having complained of being tired all day. She probably stayed up too late the night before talking to her friends, just as she'd done before.

He took this time while she was asleep to clean and tidy the communications room. It didn't take long and soon settled down at the table to look at the photos of his siblings he had been keeping in Dutch's safe. The Father turned the record player on to play relaxing music on low volume so as to not wake Mary.

Joseph hadn't taken the pictures out in a long time, but the instant ache in his chest reminded him that nothing had changed. He still missed John, Jacob, and Faith just as much now as he did when he first lost them.

Briefly he wondered the "what if" scenario if they were still alive. Where would they be? What would they be doing? Would they be together? His future children wouldn't have their uncles and aunt around to help guide them. There would be no "big" happy family without them, but deep down Joseph understood the reasoning to God's decree. That didn't make it any easier…

"Yo, Emmy girl. You sure been quiet all day! What's the dealio?"

The Father sighed. His eyes rose to the radio that was obviously forgotten to be turned off. For a moment, he chose to ignore Mr. Boshaw and continue his inner thoughts with peaceful music, but soon reconsidered. The man would only continue to consistently chatter through the device until he was answered or the cord was pulled.

"C'mon, Shorty! I know you ain't sleepin'!"

Joseph slapped his hand on the table and pushed himself to his feet. He stalked over to the radio and hit the button.

"Actually, she is asleep...soundly. But not for long if you continue to prattle away. Call back tomorrow at a more decent time. She'll be awake then."

The radio was silent and briefly Joseph was certain Mr. Boshaw took heed to his words and signed out for the night. But as soon as he relaxed and was about to switch off the radio, he got an answer. And he kicked himself for thinking it would be so simple.

"Holy balls of fire, I finally get to talk to the big crazy cult leader himself! Papa Joe! Mr. Manny Bun! Broseph turned Nobroseph! The half-naked creep! I mean I like goin' around half-naked, or more preferably all naked, as much as the next guy, but seriously dude, have you ever heard of shirts? There's long-sleeves, tank tops, v-necks, uhh classic T's. Maybe you're a jersey fella? Nah...hawaiian shirt, definitely. Maybe a turtleneck for-"

"Are you done?" Joseph asked, sighing.

"Don't be upset, man. Like there's a ton of different shirt styles, and I'll admit I was a noob when it came to fashion sense at one time. It's all about confidence, okay, you have to own that shit. And then there's something about wearing only certain colors together but let's not, like, get too technical at first here. Baby steps! The first step...putting on a fucking shirt, man."

The preacher looked down at his chest, the light blue, faded t-shirt clean and a little big on him. He rolled his eyes. He would never understand the inner workings of any of Mary's redneck friends.

Still, he decided to humor him.

"Done. Now what?"

"That was fast...are you really wearing one? Describe it to me."

The cult leader rubbed his face with a groan. Why him? "It's blue and old."

"What kinda blue? I mean, like, there's a shit ton of blues. There's navy and sky blue and midnight blue. There's teal and cyan, which are quite similar. Teal has more of like a green tone to it. And turquoise is related but it's way brighter. Indigo...often confused with violet...the color, not the flowers. If I remember correctly, indigo is like halfway between blue and violet and violet is halfway between blue and purple. So, like, indigo is one quarter purple and three quarters blue, alright? So it's a blue...even though it kinda looks purple."

What was this man smoking? Probably some expired weed, no doubt.

"It's light blue."

"Sweet, I mean, I would've gone more a darker shade myself, but that's just me. So what brand is this shirt? Is it a T? Button up? It is a man's shirt, right? Don't make that mistake, trust me. They'll never let you live it down, dude."

A headache was definitely coming on. "It's a regular man's t-shirt."

"And the pants that I hope to God you're wearing match with the shirt, right? Don't be a complete fashion disaster, now."

"What does that matter? I would think everyone left has bigger problems these days than matching clothes..."

"Ah yes, the end of the world. Bet you didn't see that coming, huh?" He chuckled. After a long bout of silence, Sharky awkwardly cleared his throat. "Riiiiight...you did, I guess?"

"You sound tired, Mr. Boshaw. Perhaps you should catch some shut eye? Tomorrow is another day."

Joseph didn't know the man well enough to know if he truly was tired or not, it was just a good excuse to give to try and get the arsonist to sign off for the night.

"Waaaaaait a minute, motherhugger. You ain't gettin' rid of me that easy! And don't call me Boshaw, cuz that's like, my dad...I guess. Or whoever Ma says is my dad. This is Sharkzilla, the one and only! Since I have you all alone, I demand to know what you're planning on doing with Emmy! Listen, if you even give her the side-eye you can bet I'll make sure you'll be even more sorry than me back when I kissed that lovesick skunk...by accident."

Joseph barely smirked, and he opened his mouth, the words at the tip of his tongue. But he stopped himself. He had no problem telling off the Drubmans with what was in store for Mary and him, what God had planned for them, what he had already started to fulfill those plans.

But Mary wouldn't be happy with him if he did. He knew she was keeping their relationship and what happened between them a secret from her friends. If the Drubmans were ever going to find out, it would be by the Deputy herself. Joseph had to focus on getting back on Mary's good side.

Besides, she had credibly threatened to castrate him with a rusty butter knife and make herself her very own set of prayer beads should he ever let anything slip to the Drubmans. Clearly that alone was motivation enough to remain silent on certain things...after all, God still had plans, and he kinda needed all of his equipment intact to do his bidding.

So the Father wasn't going to outright lie but give Boshaw an abridged version of the truth, which was all that he needed to know for now.

"The goal is to survive...find peace and forgive each other and move forward. In the end, we were both right and we were both wrong, and so now God is making us learn from each other. We will grow this way. Heal."

Silence. And then the scratchy feedback from the radio along with Sharky's equally scratchy, albeit confused voice. "Uhh...ok. I guess. Well, you better not have any ulterior motives or shit like that. Because...because I will find some way to get over there and kick your toned, tattooed ass! Well, I assume that it is toned and tattooed, since the rest of you is. I have no intention to fact check, soo...uh...nevermind. You behave, you stay in one piece. We clear, man bun?"

The Father had to keep himself from rolling his eyes. "Duly noted, Mr. Boshaw."

"Good! Now...like, go work on your fashion sense or something. Or pray for it, if that works better for you. You don't still have those yellow aviators, right? Dude, lose 'em. They make you look like a 70's porn star. And trust me, that ain't-"

"Goodnight, Mr. Boshaw," Joseph announced and hit the switch.

After the room fell silent, with only the soft tune of the record player behind him, the preacher pinched the bridge of his nose and then rubbed his eyes, the headache coming on from his radio guest already vexing.

Joseph had Mary mostly figured out. How and why she acted the way she did, or did the things that she did. He even understood most of her friendships within the Resistance. But he questioned her sanity when it came to her friendship with the Drubmans.

Shaking his head, the cult leader figured he should take his own advice and go to bed. Maybe that would help the headache from talking to one such Charlemagne "Sharky" Victor Boshaw IV.

Mary shook her head, face covered by one palm as the cousins drilled her ear with their daily bunker escapades and problems. Addie had been on earlier, but excused herself, saying "she and Xander had a hot and sexy yoga session to attend to". TMI, really, but the Deputy was used to the helicopter queen's forthrightness.

"I mean I don't get it, man," Sharky drawled. "I just wanna make a TP fort. Is that too much to ask?"

The fire enthusiast huffed.

"Apparently so, cuz I'm limited to four sheets a shit. Four fucking sheets, can ya believe it? That's like, nothing! Do you have any idea how messy that is? I take a dump like three times a day, I, like, have a healthy digestive tract, man, I can't help it. It's one way to keep yourself busy down here, I guess..."

"Hurky, we're in legit hard times when toilet paper has become worth more than booze and dope."

"I-I have a confession. I took TP for granted, man. Look, I-I'm serious. I never realized how important it was to me and my crack. I wasted a lot, amigos. I really did. Half a roll after eating Taco Bell. I TP'd way too many houses in my youth. I'm ashamed."

"Cuz, don't be so hard on yourself, dude. I burned a shit ton of it. Oh man, remember slinging gobs of soaked toilet paper at parties at the Spread Eagle? Mary May would get so fucking pissed man, oh but it was hella fun!"

Hurk laughed. "Oh man Sharkster, do you remember how you got Grace right in the face? I swear you were gonna piss your britches, man."

"I will admit, I wanted to pee right on the spot. She's kinda scary. Hot, but in a scary way, ya know? But I held my own! And! Didn't puke on her like I puked on her friend in grade school. I say I did pretty damn good that night. She did punch me pretty hard though. If I didn't know any better, I'd think she had a crush on me..."

"The things he keeps dreaming about," Hurk snort-laughed into the radio. "Has he told you about his 'recipe' for edible toilet paper? They're made from cornstarch, so Momma yelled at him for using up a good chunk of our taco supply for his 'test runs'. Sharknado here thinks once we're outta this hellhole, we'll become billionaires by selling edible TP to all the peeps out there, if there's any left. Saves them space to just stock up on one thing, and they'll never run out of food or TP again, they just gotta decide for which end to use it first - and then stick with it!"

Another grunted cackle came through the radio. Hurk was clearly in good spirits today, enjoying this chat with his long-lost deputy friend.

"So, Emmy, chica, you rationing your TP, too?"

Have they really been talking about toilet paper for the last half hour? No wonder she wanted to bang her head against the wall. No wonder she had a persistent headache that wouldn't leave her alone for a few days...from talking to these two dimwits.

"Not so far," she answered tiredly. "We have plenty. In fact, if you could come over, we could throw a TP party. We certainly have enough to build several forts, guest house included."

"It looks like plenty until you start using it. A roll disappears fast, man. Like...I sometimes need to wipe at least twice to keep from anything being left behind and then, bam! Half the roll's gone."

Mary grimaced. "Seriously, Hurk. TMI. Less is more sometimes."

"Hurky, dude, Emmy doesn't want to know about all your bowel movements, goddamn. She is a lady."

"I know she's a lady, ya idiot, but I also think of her as one of the guys, ya know? I just thought she'd appreciate my advice on TP rationing. It's a very important survival skill now. I mean, what if she uses a lot? What if Nobroseph uses a lot to wipe his holy ass? Emmy, you need to ask him. You need to discuss the rationing of TP with him. God ain't gonna just magically send you more after praying. And thank God there's just the two of you down there, or else you'd have to share what you have with even more cheeks, chica."

More than two? Mary cringed at the thought. TP shortage...if only that was all she had to worry about.

"I am not asking him anything of the sort. Chill out, guys. We are totally fine right now. Absolutely no TP crisis on the horizon, not anytime soon."

"Right now, she says," Hurk mumbled. "It's all fun and games until you're about to grab a sheet and all your hand touches is the cardboard roll. You wipe and wipe, until somebody cries!"

"Dude...you literally got yelled at by Aunty Addie this morning for using too much. It wasn't that long ago. You almost cried, too."

"Did not!"

"Did too!"

"That was just...just from the fried onions we had with our bacon. Onions make me cry."

"Fried onions don't burn in your eyes, Hillbilly Rambo. Liar liar, pants on fire!"

"Ha, joke's on you, cuz I'm allergic to onions!"

"Crying like a baby is not an allergic reaction."

"Is too!"

"Is not!"

"Is too! Momma is totally allergic to rom coms 'n girly shit like that, she cries all the time! Have you seen her watch Titanic? She cries like a baby every time Jack drowns because he forgot to pack his swimmies and speedo!"

"That's only because Leo DiCaprio is such a milksop, Rose should've picked Billy Zane! Villains are just way hotter than some baby-faced, penniless wimp. Billy dude was a smooth talker and had the moves, style and money...and good taste in women. Bet he was an animal in bed, too!"

"Dude, are you like, advertising for bros like Joseph Seed? Not cool. Like I need any more fodder for my overactive imagination. I'm already questioning my sexual orientation enough as it is, being locked up down here with my Pa, Ma, my Ma's boytoy, and my cousin. And to think that Emmy is all alone with one of those animalistic….animals. Not cool, bro. Not cool."

Aaaaand there it is, Mary thought unhappily as she welcomed her migraine.

They were bickering like old marrieds now, further intensifying her instant migraine. At first it was the usual, stupid fight these two knuckleheads often exchanged, one always trying to outdo the other, most of which made no sense to Mary. But as she sat there shaking her head, she noticed it taking a hard turn.

"Well maybe if you'd get your head outta your ass once in a while, Hurkyboy, I wouldn't have to clean up your fucking mess all the time!"

"Hey, man! I am older and more experienced and wiser, cuz. You ain't gotta clue, man. I demand respect. I am the boss of you."

"Like hell you are! I'm way more mature! I had already seen titties when you still thought they were chest bongos. You might've gone 'round the world, cuz, but, like, at least I ain't a grown ass man still living with his parents!"

"For the last time, I was between pads with my world adventures, dumbass! Besides, amigo, we both bunking with my parents now, it don't count! Why am I even arguing with you?"

"I dunno, I was hopin' you'd shut up, dude."

"Fine, Charlemagne-champagne, up yours. Don't talk to me anymore."

"HEY...don't call me that! You promised to never call me like that again! You gonna be an asshole, cuz, I just won't speak to you for the rest of the time we're stuck down in this shithole."

"Fine."

"FINE!"

Mary's chest seized up. She stared at the speaker where their voices filtered through, horrified. A familiar dread fell upon her, paling her skin, perspiring her skin in a cold sweat.

"Sorry, Shorty, gotta go. Apparently, some of us have a giant stick up their ass! And by some of us, I mean Hurk!" Sharky yelled. "And by stick I mean a pointy stake the size of a freakin' bazooka! It's so big I'm telling you, he's gonna be shitting splinters for weeks!"

"Don't listen to him, chica, he's too baked to realize what he's saying...like always!"

The Deputy snatched the microphone and pulled it to her mouth. "STOP! Shut the hell up both of you. Now!"

Instant silence. Either they signed off or they listened.

"...Emmy?" Sharky gulped.

"I know you guys have been cooped up too long in such a cramped space with so many people, but do you fucking hear yourselves?"

"But he-" Hurk started.

"No, shut it! Listen to me. Don't you dare hurt your relationship over a stupid fight! You two are more like brothers than anything and I will not stand here and let you guys trash each other in such a way when I know deep down you don't mean it! You idiots don't even realize how unstoppable you are as a team. I've SEEN it. Make up right now!"

"But-"

"DO IT."

"Goddang ok, chica, damn. Sharky, cuz, I-I'm sorry, man. I didn't mean it!"

"It's all good, bro. I'm super sorry, too."

Mary didn't realize she was shaking. "Now hug!"

"What?!" Hurk snapped. "Emmy girl, whatever you want, but...don't make it weird, please?"

"DO. IT."

"I kinda do feel like a hug, actually," Sharky mumbled, sounding kinda ashamed and humbled. Knowing his mannerisms, she had the strong suspicion he was probably fiddling with the cords of his hoodie right now.

"You better be hugging! Are you hugging yet?!"

"We are, we are!" they cried, sounding equal parts eager and terrified.

And then Hurk mumbled, "I'm scared…"

"Ditto, cuz. I've never heard her sound so scary…"

"Feel better?" Mary asked.

"I feel a bit awkward to be honest," Hurk admitted.

"I feel great! Aaand a bit weird. Didn't know Hurky over there was so huggable! Feels like I just hugged a squishy, grumpy teddy bear or something..."

"No more fighting?"

"No ma'am," they answered quickly, hurrying to obey her like some hardass drill sergeant.

"Good," Mary said, shoulders sagging, frowning. She stared at the microphone. "Now...get back to doing your quirky 'Drubman clan' antics that I know and love. Don't ever let something like a stupid fight get in the way of what you mean to each other."

A long bout of uncomfortable silence passed by. She could practically see the two of them discussing her mental state back and forth with their own, made up brand of sign language only the two cousins could understand as the radio silence stretched on.

"Uh...Emmy...you alright, girl?" Sharky finally inquired, clearly concerned.

"I'm fine," she forced. "Just..tired...I have a headache. I'm...gonna go lay down for a bit. Catch ya guys later."

She switched the radio off before they could answer. She stared in blank dejection, the constricting feeling in her chest not unwinding. Her head hurt, her stomach was queasy...so queasy.

And she broke down and cried silently.

Mary pushed away unpaid medical bill envelopes and final notices for utilities, many of which fell to the floor, but the girl paid no mind, looking for something else on the messy table. She finally found it after unburying it from ignored mail and empty beer cans.

The key belonged to Mr. Sanderson, the rancher she worked for on weekends and during the summer. It was a key to his house in case he wasn't home.

School was almost out for summer, and the teenager would be working a lot more at the ranch, instead of just on a few weekends. She would need to keep a better track of the key now.

Mary stuffed it into her jean pocket and rushed to her room. She passed through the living room, her mother doped out on the couch and unresponsive while her "boyfriend" and biggest asshole ever, Chad, watched TV and drank beer.

He cussed at her as she went by, temporarily getting in his way of the movie on screen. She ignored him, mind on more important matters than having a screaming match with him.

Her room was mostly in order, and she found her boots in the closet by her other worn out shoes. Mary pulled them on and raced out the front door of the shabby trailer. The screen door slapped loudly as she practically jumped off the front porch.

The wind was cold and strong. A few raindrops splattered on the dusty ground as it tried to rain above. Mary would have to work in the rain if this kept up.

She found her little sister boredly drawing in the dirt with a stick not far from Chad's beat up red truck.

"Okay sis, I'm off. I'll be back later."

Sarah frowned, dropping her stick and coming over to Mary. "Can I please come this time?"

Not this again.

"Sarah, Mr. Sanderson is gone for the day. You can't. He can't be responsible if something happens while he's away. We've talked about this. Maybe next time, alright?"

Her sister frowned, kicking at the dirt with her shoe. "I know, but I really don't want to be left alone here. Please? I promise I'll be good and stay out of trouble."

"I'm gonna be gone 'til dark. I'm sorry sis, we can get into serious trouble if Mr. Sanderson finds out."

"He won't!"

Mary sighed, aggravated. "Sarah, I said no! What's the big deal?"

By Sarah's shifting gaze to the trailer as she picked at her fingers, Mary figured it out pretty fast. "Just ignore them like we usually do. They'll pass out like always and then you'll have the house to yourself."

"But what if something happens?"

"Then call 911. Come on, sis. Don't be dumb. Besides, nothing's gonna happen. Just the same shit as always. I'll be home at dark."

"Please just let me come along. I don't want to be here by myself," Sarah whined.

Frustrated and already running late, Mary shook her head. Little sisters were such a pain sometimes! If having children was anything like this, she reconsidered wanting any.

"No is no! I'm sorry, but I'm not risking my job because he's not there. Just wait 'til next time. Honestly, you're being a baby. You've done this lots of times."

Sarah lashed out, upset by Mary's comment. "I am not! I just wanna get away from here, spend time with you and help. Is that too much to ask?"

"Oh my god, you went a couple weeks ago! You're acting like you never get to go. Sarah, I can't while Mr. Sanderson ain't home. Why can't you get that through your head?"

Sarah started crying, mostly from frustration, not really from getting her feelings hurt. Still, the older sister sighed, equal parts irritated and ashamed. Mary had made Sarah cry before, a few times actually, but never intentionally.

It sucked being a big sister sometimes.

Overhead, Mary faintly heard thunder, which meant she needed to get to the ranch and fast.

"Look, I'm sorry, sis, okay? Next time. I promise! I gotta get going in case it's gonna storm." Mary offered Sarah an apologetic smile and squeezed her arm, a short show of love and reassurance before she left her sister's side and went to her bicycle laying in the dirt nearby.

She picked the bike up and got on. With a small wave goodbye to Sarah, she pushed on the pedals and headed down the road. Sarah just watched her go, a couple of tears drying on her face.

It was etched into Mary's memory. Every single detail as though it had happened yesterday. But it had been fifteen years.

The last time she saw Sarah alive…

The Deputy lost track of time again. She wasn't sure if she had been silently crying for minutes or hours, head against the radio console. Tears dripped from her face to the floor, creating a multitude of small dropsized salty puddles between her feet, hands constricted in her hair as she relived those moments on that late spring day.

And Mary was reminded why she truly hated herself. The cancerous catalyst of her wrath that John had so skillfully seen at the bottom of her soul from the very beginning. But he hadn't just seen the wrath. He'd seen the anguish too. The craziest fucking Seed brother saw right through her. What did that say about her?

Hurt, mad, and confused, Mary rose to her feet. She howled like a banshee and lost it. Things were kicked and punched around the comm room, thrown and ripped to shreds. The Deputy tossed handfuls of paper up in the air and made it rain down Dutch's last handwritten notes.

She was blind in her anger, deafened by inner regrets that had so many coils wrapped around her and squeezing the life out of her like an anaconda in the jungle, juicing its poor victim. One that slowly increased the force with which it was crushing her until it would finally suffocate her for good.

Just thinking about her grief and guilt made her realize she had trouble breathing. She was out of control. The pain was just too overwhelming for her to contain.

Just like Joseph had said.

Why did I leave things like that? Why didn't I let her come along? Why couldn't it have been ME?

Why, why, why? Hindsight was always 20/20. But she was still blind. Because nothing in her life made sense. All the things that had happened to her...what was the purpose? If she was to be condemned for what she did, why did Sarah have to suffer for it?

Strong arms wrapped around her from behind as she cried and wreaked havoc on the room. Instinct allowed her to get one good hit in before they completely enclosed her, but Mary noticed right away they weren't constricting in a threatening way. It was a hug.

"Shhhh, Mary, shhh. Don't let it consume you."

It was Joseph. The Deputy instantly remembered where she was, his calm, soothing voice bringing her back. She froze and dropped whatever was in her hand. He was so warm. And gentle, despite the strong constraint on her.

"Breathe. Let it out. You're safe. Let it pass..."

Shaky, gulping breaths were all she could manage for a minute. Her heartbeats trembled between them. Mary hated that he could calm her so quickly, his voice like a guardian angel guiding her through absolute darkness.

The comm room around them was a mess. It looked like a hurricane on steroids had whipped through it, barely leaving anything intact. The radio had managed to escape her temper (more by accident than by conscious choice) and was still functional, thank God. This was her lifeline, her umbilical cord to the outside world, and she had almost cut herself off of it in her uncontrollable rage.

Almost...

Almost isolated herself again for no other reason than being irrationally mad at herself and her lack of control over her life. God, she was a mess.

She observed the needless destruction created by her (and really, was she ever capable of anything else?); chaos seemed to follow her wherever she went, the occasional apocalypse notwithstanding.

Mary realized once more that her true purpose seemed to be nothing but obliteration. Regret hit her hard and she felt sick.

"I know your sin. It drives you. Every thought, every action. Your sin is Wrath." John's words from way back echoed through her mind. "Your soul is poisoned, diseased, riddled with cancer. And it must be cut out."

Slowly, her breathing returned to normal, but the pressure in her chest persisted. Joseph remained silent, holding her close. Mary's eyes scanned the room once more, her nails digging into Joseph's forearm.

"This is all I'm good for…"

"Nonsense," Joseph replied, making her realize she had spoken out loud. "You're good for much more than you allow yourself to be."

"Oh yeah?...like what?"

"For starters, you're really good at counting toilet paper. No one else could have done that any better."

It took the Deputy a moment to realize that Joseph was teasing her, attempting to make her laugh. It worked. Humor was equally her weakness and her secret weapon. He caught her off guard by wielding it to make her feel better, and she couldn't help the amused snort that escaped her. The Deputy laughed softly.

"I must be rubbing off on you, Big Spoon. Your jokes are becoming as awful as mine..."

Joseph relaxed his hold on her slightly. His free hand slowly rubbed her lower back. It felt more pleasant than she would have willingly admitted.

"Those capable of such destruction are also capable of amazing creations...they just have to allow themselves to forgive, to heal, to focus on building rather than leveling what's around them."

She was going to have to take his word for it...

A/N: You know, with this Covid craziness going around and all this self isolating and such you'd think I would be dishing out some fanfic chapters at a faster rate. But my job has refused to shut down, and they aren't considered essential. Sigh. I feel like we're working even harder than normal!

Anyways, so here's CH15! So many questions and foreshadowing in this chapter :) Next one's gonna be a doozie ;)

A big thanks as always to my beta and co-creator of this story, Ravenlaughter! HUGS

Stay safe out there (preferably in there inside your homes lol) everyone! 'Til next time! :D