Author's Note: I'm back!

So first and foremost, I want to apologize that it took so long for me to write this chapter. I recently moved into my own house and for a while I was really depressed on account of being alone for a bit and also not feeling like I was home yet. Then school started up again and that made it worse. However, I've gotten more used to my house since then so hopefully the depression won't be too much.

I would like to thank everyone who's read and left such wonderful reviews. It may seem silly, but it really brightens my day when I get feedback on my fics. For those of you that are still sticking around even though it's been a couple months since my last update, I want to thank you so much for being patient with me. I will try my hardest to keep updates as regular as possible.

Thank you all for reading and I hope you enjoy the new chapter!

Chapter 10: Jacob Seed III

August 21, 2008 – 2:17 PM

The evening after Jacob catches his neighbor swimming, she comes to him. Literally approaches him after he's gotten back from fixing his truck on the side of the road, holding a plate of cookies in her hands and shaking like it's cold outside. Without a word, she shoves the plate in his hands then walks back into her own cabin, leaving him standing there without any clue as to what exactly just happened. She does the same thing the next day, except she brings him some sort of sandwich with lobster on it. He has no idea where she got the lobster from in the outback of Montana, but it's been cooked to perfection.

When he comes home from church one Sunday afternoon, she's left a knit navy blue beanie on the railing of his porch. It's so long that he'll need to fold the brim to wear it properly. He immediately recognizes that it's the knitting project she's been working on. There are clear mistakes, but the stitching is strong, and he can't help but admire her craftsmanship.

Then one night, he brings an armload of firewood to her shed only to find that it's full. He's not surprised. He knew at some point he wouldn't need to chop anymore wood for her. Still, he can't very well just leave this debt unpaid. Though, is it really a debt? He had not asked her to cook for him, had not wanted her to do anything for him. He just wants to be left alone.

Yet just a few moments later, there he is, digging out a firepit in between their cabins. He gathers up large rocks at the shoreline of the lake to line the edges of the hole. Then he sets a large log down next to the pit; a table to put her coffee on while she sits next to the fire. Finally, he sets a pile of freshly chopped firewood next to the pit, then leaves it there for her to find later.

And she does find it the following night. Jacob watches her from the darkness of his cabin as she walks out at her usual time, holding a mug of coffee in one hand and dragging her lawn chair behind her. She walks towards where she usually makes her fire and stops short when she sees the pit.

She turns her head towards his cabin, hair dancing in the light breeze. He knows there's no way she can see him watching her through the window, and still she smiles, a spellbinding radiant smile the likes of which he's never seen on another person. It only lasts for a moment, but he sees her in that short moment: who she really is underneath her silence, who she was before she came to Hope County, who someday she could become again. And he's completely entranced by her, trapped within her web.

The next day as Jacob's skinning a wolverine on his porch, she brings him another one of those lobster sandwiches and a tall glass of some kind of iced berry tea. He looks up at her, raising a brow with his knife still poised underneath the animal's fur at its belly. He can tell that she's disgusted by the sight and smell of the dead animal, face going milky white and nose scrunching, but she still smiles sweetly at him as she places the drink and plate on the porch, far enough away that it won't get dirty from the corpse. Then she turns swiftly and goes back to her cabin.

A strange warm feeling swells in his chest from her smile, something he only feels with his brothers. When she'd smiled at him, she'd looked at him as though he were just a man. And maybe that is what he really is, but most people treat him like a monster to be avoided at all costs. And fuck them, they should be scared of him.

But not her, it seems. To her, he's just a guy who she brings food to. It almost makes him feel…normal. Is this even what normal is supposed to be? Everything about his life – past, present, and future – is so fucked that he's not even sure. For the longest time, he thought that life is all just meaningless. A means to an end. He'd spend the rest of his life out here in the mountains waiting to die for his brother's holy war, waiting for the antichrist to come and kill him. And he'll die happily and peacefully for his brother.

He's not looking for a relationship. Knowing what he knows of his future, he recognizes that it would not only be needlessly cruel for his partner, but it would also become a weakness for him. That's the last thing he wants. But maybe…a companion?

Could he possibly see this strange silent neighbor of his as a friend?

I don't even know her name. Jacob can practically hear Joseph chastising him in his thoughts for being so antisocial, so rude to someone who's been so friendly. The thought makes him scoff, tugging on the skin of the wolverine too hard. Fuck that. Neighborly and friendly isn't who he is.

Still, the phantom scoldings of his younger brother nag him at the back of his mind, and he wonders if somehow Joseph can see all this just like he can see his prophesies. If this is how Joseph has been able to command others to do his will almost blindly, if only to make this maddening badgering stop. So Jacob resigns himself to giving his neighbor his name. He will break down this barrier within himself, to please his brother. It is the will of the Father, it seems.

And so it is, because as he's starting to skin another wolverine, she drags a second lawn chair over to the firepit. She positions it on the other side of the makeshift table, so that they each have equal access to it. He watches her, dumbfounded. Had Joseph somehow spoken to her as well? He feels his heart rate steadily rise. Is this really what Joseph wants from him? To join her at the campfire tonight?

That sounds so unbelievable and so farfetched, but… Jacob shakes his head. No. He's worked years building up this shell around himself, and this random woman is trying to pull it all apart. Maybe she's just being nice, or maybe she's out to get 'em for some reason, he doesn't know. But he's sure he should just left her alone. It's better that way, anyway, for all parties involved.

Later that night as she places a cup of coffee down on her little table and sits down across from the other lawn chair, he watches her. He watches her from the darkness of his windows as she pulls her feet up on the chair and hugs her arms around her knees. As she stares blankly into the fire, blinking every so often. As she waits for him. Her shoulders bob up before crashing back down and a heavy sigh escapes her.

Then she reaches into her back pocket and pulls out a small yellow radio. She turns a knob on the front, and rock music plays through the speakers before setting it down on the table next to her coffee. She picks the mug up and takes a sip before setting it down and turning the knob again. It's a bit of an older station, playing some old blues music. She stays on that station for a little longer before changing it to the Eden's Gate station.

What is she doing? He wonders, as she holds the mug of coffee in her hands and takes light sips. As he watches her he feels a burning knotting itself up in the pit of his stomach. She looks so…disappointed. So defeated.

He shakes his head and runs his hands down his face. He stands abruptly from his chair, making it scrape across the wood floor, loud enough for her to hear and jump from it. He marches back to his bed, and lies down, determined to fall asleep and forget this madness. He'll decide when he wants to meet her. He never asked for her to be so friendly to him. Why should he care if her feelings are hurt?

I am strong, he thinks to himself, a sick lullaby. The world is weak.

March 30, 2018 – 10:12 PM

Jacob stands at the edge of the river, watching as the moon glitters over the water's surface. To his right, the Silver Lake Bridge stands tall, casting its dark shadow over him. To his left, the river flows onward separating his and John's territories. He takes in a deep breath, the scents of the Mountains filling his senses. He closes his eyes, trying to will his thoughts to quiet.

The first place he'd gone as soon as he'd gotten the chance was his and his wife's cabin. Of course, when he got there, everything looked like the way they'd left it. He didn't know why he'd expected her to be there, had hoped to walk through the door and see her laying in their bed. He wanted to be angry with her, and he is angry with her. But being in their cabin surrounded by her scent and her things fills him with a longing. He just wants her back. He Just wants her near so that he can hold her, touch her, protect her.

He'd tried contacting her using Peaches' radio, but it was no use no matter how much he tried. She couldn't hear him. The frequencies on the radios are so finicky, she'll likely need to be in the Mountains before he'll be able to contact her. That's when he'd gotten his plan.

Jacob's thoughts are interrupted when a wet snout nudges his fist. He opens his eyes and looks down, meeting the gaze of one of his Judges. Delilah. Unlike his other Judges, her fur is fluffy and clean, with barely any scarred or bloody patches. And she's kept her tail at Jacob's request. Though, her eyes still have that milky green glow from the Bliss serum and the red cross all the other Judges have stains the fur on her face. Her being female is also a unique quality. Usually Jacob will keep the females separated from the other Judges for breeding purposes, but Delilah is vicious. Far more aggressive than all his other Judges.

And she is the one who he's chosen to protect and find Mercy.

He looks back across the river, beyond to where the Whitetail Mountains end and Holland Valley begins. He's heard chatter over the station about his wife's escapades. How she'd singlehandedly took back Dutch's Island. How she'd liberated Fall's End and took over John's Ranch. Jacob's not surprised by the success she's achieved in so little time. When she puts her mind to something, she can attain almost anything.

But she doesn't realize what she's doing. He sighs. He's always hated her strong moral compass. It's always made her act without thinking, without seeing the greater picture. Well, he's going to make her understand. She will come back to him, willingly or no, even if he has to drag her back here himself. However, it would be better for everyone if Mercy just returns to him without any fuss, to seek the forgiveness of the Father and her Family.

Which is why he's presenting her with a choice. He kneels next to the wolf, making sure the tracking collar is secure around her neck. With this, he'll be able to keep track of his wife's movements as the wolf follows her. Jacob then reaches into his pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He's not much for feelings, never has been. Feeling makes you weak, distracts you from your survival, but he knows how Mercy operates. He knows the true nature of Mercy's soul. Where he is death and violence, she is compassion and kindness. Perhaps she will be moved if he shows her the love he feels for her in his heart, how hurt he is from what she's done.

Perhaps she will come home to him.

He secures the note to the wolf's collar, hoping that his wife is the one who receives the message. Finally, he pulls one of Mercy's shirts (one usually worn when she's out hunting or hiking) out from his pocket. He holds the garment up for Delilah to smell. Mercy's scent is so strong, it's making him dizzy with the want, the need for his wife to be here.

"Find her for me, Delilah," Jacob whispers, "Bring her home to me."

The wolf looks at him with that blank, Blissed-up stare all the Judges possess before turning away from her master and wading into the water without a second glance. He watches her until she emerges on the other side of the river and disappears over the top of the hill. He lets out a shaky breath, running a hand through his hair before climbing back over the ridge to the street.

A knot of dread bunches up at the back of his throat painfully, knowing that the situation is out of his hands now. Mercy is out of his reach, wreaking havoc throughout the Valley and likely causing John a world of annoyance. As he pulls himself into the driver's seat of his truck, anxious to get back to the Veterans' Center, he finds himself second guessing his plan. Though, he knows he has little room to do anything outside of the Mountains. Joseph has always been adamant on not allowing any of the siblings to "meddle" in each other's regions, without the Father's explicit permission or orders. Unless Mercy comes to the Whitetail Mountains, Jacob can't do anything. He's taking a huge risk sending Delilah into the Valley, to follow his wife wherever she may go, but he's been so beside himself with worry that he doesn't know what else he can do to ease his troubled thoughts.

Jacob pulls into the drive of the Veterans' Center minutes later, the euphoric tune of "Only You" blasting over the speakers and echoing off the jagged cliffs of the basin surrounding his base. The song is starting to grate on his ears, but he won't risk a surprise attack from the Whitetails. Should any indoctrinated Whitetails approach the compound, they'll go into a killing frenzy, slaughtering any comrades around them. Jacob feels more comfortable here in the Center which is why he's chosen to stay here instead of in his bunker as Joseph had commanded all the siblings to do when the Reaping began. Jacob feels more vulnerable within the bunker, trapped. There are no windows to look out to the world, and it can be far too quiet sometimes with nothing but the deadly hum of the innerworkings in the walls. The fluorescent lights give him headaches too. Out here, though, he can smell the freshness of the green when he wakes up, can feel the sun warm his skin. He can enjoy being a part of this Earth before his wife kills him.

Only you can make all this change in me,
For it's true, you are my destiny.

He growls low in his throat, cutting the engine and pinching the bridge of his nose. He opens the door and slides out, immediately met by one of his soldiers. They've brought more prisoners in, more souls that require sacrifice. Two civilians, a group of Whitetails, and a deserter, claiming to be going to Holland Valley with his sister to join Mercy's Resistance. The sister had been able to flee, but they would continue searching for her. Jacob would call John in the morning to be on the lookout for her, then he'd go talk to the traitor.

His man ends the conversation with a salute, before returning to his post. Jacob purses his lips together, thinking on his duties as he makes his way into the Center. Perhaps one of these prisoners will fulfill Mercy's purpose in her stead, but he knows that would go against everything Joseph prophesied. Despite all that's happened these past couple days, he still can't bring himself to believe that his wife would harm anyone in their family. Mercy's heart is full to the brim with love; he's not sure she could ever truly hate someone even if she tried.

Yet they'd still found the body. Her sin is wrath, he'd heard John whisper that night in the church after they'd discovered a dead man in one of the houses Mercy'd hid in. He hadn't meant for anyone to hear it, but Jacob heard all the same.

Only you and you alone can thrill me like you do,
And fill my heart with love for only you.

The music crashes through his thoughts when he opens the door to his command room. This room also happens to be the one that he sleeps in; a twin sized bed with nothing but a blanket and pillow is pushed against the east wall, just to the left of the balcony door. It's here where he can look over the mountains whenever he pleases.

He sighs as he takes a seat at one of the desks, looking over reports from his outposts. Mercy would've loved gazing over the lake and mountains from the balcony. He isn't even sure if she holds any love left for him in her heart, whether she holds love for any of her family. If only he'd just explained everything for her…but she still wouldn't have understood. He isn't sure what he believes anymore. He just wants her by his side. With everything that's happened, he wonders how likely that scenario can be.

Joseph has seen the future. Prophesied Jacob's death by the hands of Mercy.

Perhaps, this is Jacob's punishment to die by his wife's hand. He can sometimes imagine it, the woman who's made him weak leaning over him with the knife he gave her poised at his throat, eyes burning with a seething hatred before she drains him of his blood. It is the least he deserves after all the sins he's committed against his family, after failing his brothers and lying to his wife and forcing her into this mess. After all the lives he's broken and pain he's wrought across the Mountains.

Had Joseph's prophesy been wrong? Had Hell really followed Jacob all along?

Only you can make all this world seem right,
Only you can make the darkness bright.

A vein throbs at his temple as he stands and slams the balcony doors shut and locks them. The joyful booming vocals are reduced to just a hum, but it does little to ease the headache that's just come on. Jacob sits on the edge of his bed, pulling a cigarette from his pack. He takes a deep inhale as he lights it, reaching over for his ashtray as he lets out the smoke. The calm immediately washes through his blood stream, but still his thoughts resonate noisily in his skull.

His crestfallen thoughts are interrupted when he hears a knock on his door. "What is it?" he asks, gruffly.

His door opens, and he stands so he can chew out whoever it is entering his room without permission. His words die in his throat when he sees Joseph enter. "Good evening, brother," Joseph greets. Jacob nods in reply, and Joseph approaches him, about to embrace him until he sees the lit cigarette in between Jacob's fingers. Joseph stops short, glaring at the thing like he could disintegrate it with his gaze alone. "You know I hate it that you smoke," he chastises, nose scrunching from the fetid smell, "And you're smoking inside."

"What are you, my wife?" Jacob scoffs. He'd meant it as a joke, but his chest burns when he imagines Mercy, wishing that she were standing where Joseph is now. He shakes his head, rubbing the back of his neck while taking another drag from his cigarette. "Anyway, no smoking isn't in your rules, so I'm not gonna stop."

Joseph furrows his brows, tilting his head to the side. "Tobacco is poison to the lungs, you shouldn't have started in the first place."

"We're all going to die either way. So, why does it matter?" Jacob says without thinking. Joseph's eyebrows raise only slightly to show his surprise before his expression goes bleak. He turns his face to the floor, avoiding Jacob's stare. "Did you only come here to reprimand me?"

"No," Joseph answers, "I came because I need to tell you something, and it will be better coming from me." Jacob raises a brow as he takes another drag and lets the smoke out slowly. "John has Mercy."

Jacob's eyes widen, and his hand stops in its place as he's about to take another draw. Mercy is… His mind cannot even fully comprehend it right now. All he can think about is having her near him again, having her sleep beside him and touch him. "Is she alright?" he asks, snuffing his cigarette in the ashtray as he stands.

"She's been shot with a Bliss bullet, but she's fine otherwise," Joseph says. "They captured her near Rye and Sons Aviation."

"Good." Jacob puts the ashtray back on the table before moving to the door, but Joseph lifts a hand to his chest, stilling his older brother's movements.

"Where are you going?"

"I'm going to get my wife back." His tone is dangerously low, like steel on stone.

Joseph frowns. "Jacob, she must atone."

"Bullshit," he growls, hands tightening into fists at his sides. "John can get his own wife to cut into."

He tries to push past Joseph, but his younger brother is quick to block his path. "You still don't understand, do you? After all I've told you would happen, has happened…" Joseph's voice starts to raise, but he clears his throat and shakes his head. He starts again, in a calmer tone, "You know how this is supposed to go."

"She just doesn't understand," Jacob explains, "If I could just see her…If you could talk to her then maybe- "

"She won't understand," Joseph says curtly. "I hadn't realized she's made you so soft."

Jacob's blood rushes to his ears, eyes darkening. "I haven't gone soft."

Joseph sighs, expression softening as he lifts his hands to lay them on his brother's shoulders. "Jacob, I tried to save her soul… I tried to change her fate, our fate, but that is not the way God wants this to play out." He meets Jacob's gaze, calming waters colliding with a raging storm. "I'll remind you that this is her purpose." Jacob glares to the floor, teeth grinding against each other as his jaw clenches. "You need to let her make her sacrifices."

Jacob pulls his shoulders back. He's finding it more and more difficult to keep his face unfeeling and cold. "It's the will of the Father, is it?" He's mocking Joseph, but his younger brother simply nods. Jacob takes in a deep breath, the weight only getting heavier as he breathes out. Joseph is right, he knows. He's known for a long while how this would all come to pass. Mercy's already started the Collapse, just as Joseph predicted. She's launched her rebellion and is taking Hope County back. And John is her first target.

He squeezes his eyes shut, tilting his head back as his throat tightens. This is all too much. He should've never talked to Mercy. He should've chased her out of that cabin when she showed up. She should've stayed far away from Hope County. She should've stayed in Maryland and found someone else that could give her the life she deserves. She could've never been here to kill him and his brothers. Perhaps Joseph's prophecy could've been wrong.

"Come back to me, brother," Joseph says, breaking Jacob from his panic attack. He places his hands on Jacob's shoulders, and the older brother's hands come to do the same out of instinct. Joseph presses his forehead to Jacob's, and Jacob feels the calm that reaches inside him and calms the erratically beating chambers of his heart. "You must be strong."

Jacob lets out a deep breath, eyes closing and mouth hanging open slightly. "Do what you need to," he says, voice grating against his throat. He opens his eyes to look at Joseph, his eyes shining with empathy and making Jacob's ears redden in shame. Still, he endures these looks from Joseph, as he'd learned to accept these same looks from Faith and John and Mercy. Mercy most of all.

Joseph nods his head, and his hands leave Jacob's shoulders. "I will ensure that John does not hurt her more than is necessary."

He better not hurt her, but he keeps these thoughts to himself as Joseph leaves, knowing that they'll only fall on deaf ears. This is the way it must be, he reminds himself. Mercy has to fulfill her purpose.

For, even the weak have their purpose, but Jacob knows that she's far from weak.