John had returned once not long after that incident, fuming. The deputy could hear him yelling at people from down the hall, knocking things over as he went. He stormed into the cell with four guards, instructing them to hold her down while he yanked her jeans halfway down her ass and carved the word PRIDE into the flesh above her right hip, ranting senselessly about her pride and how it was stopping her from confessing. She tried to resist at first, but she was no match for five grown men in her diminished state. She had not seen him since.
She lost count of the number of meals she'd had, and how many times the bucket had been emptied. But she was now free to roam around her cell - one of the guards had taken off her cuffs so she could dress herself, and he hadn't put them back on. Someone came to change the dressing on her back frequently. The radio wouldn't pick up any other station but the Peggie one, so she knew all their songs word for word. Sometimes she'd even sing along.
The deputy had been given thin black tracksuit bottoms and a grey tank top to replace the old clothes Dutch had given her. A guard had even brought in a tub of luke-warm water and a washcloth so she could give herself a bath. It was glorious. She stripped off while two guards stood inside the room facing away from her. Modesty was no longer in her vocabulary - she assumed someone was watching through the door all the time. So, she squatted over the basin and washed herself from head to toe.
She was starting to get bored and lonely. The guards would not talk to her. At first, she didn't want to talk to them either, but as the time wore on, and John didn't show (was she missing him? No.), she tried to make conversation with them, but they did not speak to her. She started to think it might be better if she made up some confession to get out of her cell the next time John came to see her... if he came to see her. Try to explain her actions, why she'd killed so many of his crew (Trying to defend myself, she reasoned). She was roused from her musings by a guard with a first aid kit.
"Sit on the chair." he said. She followed his order, sitting sideways so he could access her back easily. He lifted her shirt, removed the dressings, wiped them over with a clean, damp cloth and pulled her shirt down again. "They do not need to be re-dressed," he said, standing up. He looked down at her with pity in his eyes. "Confess your sins to John, so that you may go free," he said, and turned to go.
"Wait - how long have I been down here?" she asked, standing and turning to face him.
"Three months." he replied as he closed the door.
She staggered back against the wall. Three months? Had she really lost that much time? What had happened to the rest of her crew in that time? Hudson? Burke? The Sheriff? How much longer did John plan on keeping her down here?
"Help me Faith, help me Faith, shield me from sorrow, from fear of tomorrow..."
That damned radio. But for the first time, she felt the music was speaking to her. It made sense. She needed help. She needed to get out of the cell. She needed to be pulled from the darkness that was creeping into her mind.
"I could never be free, 'Cause the shackles I wore, can't be touched or be seen..."
She looked at the shackles still hanging from the wall. They became blurry as her eyes filled with tears. She slid to the floor and started to cry in earnest, heaving great sobs that dominated her body. She cried for herself. She cried for her squad. Would she ever be free again?
It felt like she'd been crying for years. She screamed out her sorrow to the cell, pounding the floor with her fists, pressing her forehead to the cold concrete. Now she was just another anguished voice in the hellish bunker. Two strong arms wrapped themselves around her, pulling her towards a solid, muscular chest. That spicy, musky scent filled her nose - John.
"Shh," he soothed, one hand coming up to stroke her hair. "Are you ready to confess now, Deputy?" he whispered softly into her ear. "Are you ready to join the Father in the light?" He had won. He had broken her. It took three months - but he had succeeded.
She couldn't speak, only continue to cry in her sorrow and defeat. He held her, hand stroking through her hair, down her back. Holding her securely against him, whispering words of encouragement. Despite all he had done, he still felt safe and familiar. She was almost relieved to see him again, after so long in isolation. Eventually, she calmed down and relaxed against him. She raised her eyes and looked up at the door, where Joseph Seed himself was standing. He nodded once, then turned and walked away. She slowly sat up to look at John. He had a serene, calm expression on his face.
He raised one brow. "Just... say... yes..."
She nodded once, the corners of her mouth turned down. "Yes. Yes, I will confess."
The deputy sat at a table in a different room. Her arms were outstretched, the cuffs around her wrists were welded to the tabletop, like the interview rooms at the precinct. She shifted uncomfortably under the gaze of Joseph Seed, sitting opposite her. John stood to Joseph's left, leaning back against the wall.
"Deputy," Joseph began, his voice soft and calm. "I believe you are ready to confess?"
She met his gaze uneasily. Everything about him made her uncomfortable, and he was staring at her intently, as if he could read her mind. The only thing she could think of at that moment was sobbing on the floor of her cell while John held her to his chest. John's eyes met hers and he cocked his head to the side slightly before speaking. "Confess, Deputy. Confess and you can leave this place."
She turned her attention back to the Father, sighing deeply before responding to his question. She said the only thing she could think of - the truth. "I was following orders. New job, new state – I was just following through with what I'd been told. I didn't – I couldn't know what would happen. The next thing I know, I have scores of men and women trying to kill me. I was acting in self-defence." John snorted and shook his head. Joseph raised a hand to silence him, before he motioned to her to continue. "I wanted to save myself and my team. I just wanted to do my job and go h-home." The word caught in her throat as she thought back to the small, dank box of an apartment she called home. She broke eye contact with Joseph, instead staring at her hands, willing herself not to fall apart again in front of her captors. She was exhausted.
"My child," Joseph said softly. "They were not trying to kill you, only bring you here, to us, to our family. You will be forgiven. That old life of yours was not fulfilling you. It was violent. It was rife with sin. You can have a new life here, and join us at Eden's Gate. John – leave us please." A brief look of surprise crossed John's face, but he did not protest. He bowed his head slightly and left the room. Joseph waited for the door to close before continuing. "I believe you heard a message I had left for my brother when you made your way into his home?" She nodded, looking at him again. "He is my family. He is my younger brother. And he has had a hard life. I meant what I said in that message – if he continues down the path he has chosen, he will succumb to his sin. You deserve your chance at redemption, as we all do, but he is not going to help you achieve that with his actions." He paused, taking time to study her face. "You are strong. You are resilient. And you are caring. I want you to help him. Help him find the light again. If you do that, you will march through Eden's Gate with us and be safe from the Collapse. I have faith in you, child."
She opened her mouth to protest, but he held his hand up. "You may stay here to think about this opportunity. Or you can go free today, if you agree to assist me."
The thought of going back to the cell froze her to her very core. I will not go back there, she thought. I will not.
And with John's favourite word echoing in her ears she nodded. What choice did she have? "Yes. What would you have me do?"
"I trust you will do what is right," Joseph smiled. "John! You may come back." The door opened and John stepped through, face carefully expressionless. "Our Deputy has confessed and is free to leave this place. However, she is to stay with you. You will be her guardian until she has atoned."
John's eyes narrowed slightly, but again, he did not protest. "As you wish, Joseph."
Joseph stood up, approached John and placed one hand on the back of his neck, pulling his head closer so their foreheads touched. "I will be in contact with you soon," he said, before walking out without a backwards glance.
John looked at her, considering, before pulling out a handkerchief and a small bottle. "Time to go, Little Dove," he said. She watched him upturn the bottle onto the cloth, then he placed it on her face and the world went black.