xp_logs | Sam, Jay, and Lucinda: You Weren’t Afraid to Face the Devil

CW: suicide attempt, transphobia, references to minor character death

Jay and Sam get into a fight at Julia’s funeral. Sam has to help his mother get Jay to the hospital in the aftermath of the fight.

Paige had kicked him out of the house for pacing too much. Which he supposed was fair, she was trying to help the kids with their homework while Mama was out at the funeral with Jay and he was just being a distraction.

Sam nearly jumped out of his skin when his phone rang, his caller ID showing one of his old baseball teammates. Frowning, he answered. "Hello?"

Over the phone he could hear a fight, a bad one by the sound of it. His former teammate spoke. "Sam! Oh good you answered. Gotta come quick Guthrie- your brother's gone nuts."

Sam didn't wait for them to explain, already running towards the old truck parked by the barn. "What's happenin', is Jay alright?"

"For now, Sam." His old friend at least had the decency to sound relieved about that. "But he may not be for long... I'd'a called your Mama but...."

"I'm the only person you know dumb enough to fight my way through the lion's den to get to 'im." Sam sighed, starting up the old thing. A quick look at the gas gage showed that he'd be able to get to town and back. That's all he needed. "I'm heading out now, your uncle's the sherrif, do me and favor and let 'im know I'm speeding into town to stop the fight not join it?"

"You killt your own sister!" Jay was screaming when Sam got there, on top of Bobby John Cabot, both of them covered in blood and dirt. Above both of them, Joel Cabot had a fist in Jay's hair as he wailed on the side of Jay's head.

Jay didn't even realize he was in pain, or that his church jacket had been ripped open, one wing out for the entire town to see. He was seeing red and it wasn't from the blood in his eye. The other two Cabot brothers and the various cousins were around them and only the fact that they'd likely be catching Bobby John kept more of them from kicking and hitting at Jay.

"You killt your own sister and don't even have the decency to put her name on her grave!" Jay yelled, voice raw and face wet. "Couldn't respect her enough to put Julia on her grave!"

Sam barely waited for the truck to turn off before he jumped out of it, running towards the fray. He heard a few folks shout his name, and appreciated the folks that moved out of the way. At this point he wasn't afraid of shoving an old person aside to get to his brother.

Sam grabbed Joel Cabot by the front of his shirt and pulled him away from his brother. "Remember me? Remember what happens when you fuck with my brother, Cabot?"

Joel let go of Jay's hair and held up both hands so Sam dropped him, looking around at the other Cabots. "I'd suggest y'all let me take my brother home now if you don't wanna fight me too. Now I'm awful sorry y'all lost your sister, but you done fucked up and killt her after she was my sister too. I'll give y'all ten seconds to back the fuck away from Jay before I light into ya."

Sam watched in mild satisfaction as the younger of the Cabot clan backed up. Good. "Jay, let's go. Git up, I'm takin' you home fore they kill another one of my siblings."

Jay's exposed wing puffed out, huge and red as a bleeding cardinal at the sound of Sam's voice, hitting one of the Cabot cousins who were scrambling away from the flint in Sam's glare. But all the Cabot brothers stayed, and some of the older cousins, surrounding both Sam and the pair on the parking lot asphalt.

Jay had hesitated, fist mid-air at what Sam said, but Bobby John Cabot- Bobby John Cabot who Julia had told him to make sure people knew killed her- spat in his face.

"Goddamn gene trash queer," the older Cabot said. "You're what got him killt."

And the shaky peace broke as soon as it started. Jay was back on him in a second.

"You shot her! You shot her dead!" Jay screamed, not even aware of how his voice seemed to echo despite the space around them.

Someone grabbed at Jay's wing and pulled, making him cry out as feathers were torn loose.

Joel Cabot took the opportunity to punch Sam square in the jaw.

A testament to a lifetime spent fighting Cabots and the training he'd done at Muir Island, Sam hit back just as soon as the punch was registered. He tried to keep his eyes peeled, knew that at least one of the Cabots had a gun on them. In the cold winter sunlight he saw the glint of metal coming out of Abraham Lee's pocket and lunged, knocking the other man to the ground before he could draw. He punched Abraham Lee in the face, breaking his nose for the second time in their life.

"Stay. Down." Sam commanded. "Stay down, or I'll make sure you don't get up."

Joel was back to yanking on Jay's hair. "You'd think a guy would learn that ain't gonna fly after the first time you knock 'im out for pullin' your sister's hair when you're eight." He muttered, rising off of Abraham Lee and tackling Joel to the ground. Sam grabbed onto Joel's hair and pulled, ripping out a chunk from the root, pushing the other man down when he tried to throw Sam off of him.

"I said leave my brother alone." Sam yelled. "It's a very simple direction, an' I kept it that way knowing how fucking dumb y'all are-"

"Y'all don't even put her name on her gravestone, and I know your mother knew it," Jay said, pausing in pounding on Bobby John to point at one of the cousins, blood dripping from his knuckles. He was shaking like a man possessed. He'd seen the glint of Abraham Lee's gun and had wished for a moment that he had pulled the trigger. He wished it hit him; had hit one of the brothers who had been out in the woods that night. Both of them.

Despite both eyes swelling shut, Bobby John wrestled Jay down so Jay's skull hit the pavement. He looked about ready to kill him. Jay hoped he would. Jay hoped he took him down with him, blunt nails clawing at his throat. "You shut up about my brother-"

"Julia! Her name was Julia! And you shot her dead! Y'all don't even have the decency to bury the woman you killed under her own name!" Jay was sobbing in anger now.

Someone was calling for someone else to call the sheriff.

Sam tackled Bobby John off of his brother and knocked his head into the pavement with a loud crack. Sam didn't even bother to look back at Bobby John, instead looking at the Cabot cousins who were staring at him in shock. Sam mighta drawn blood and broken a few noses, but they hadn't ever seen him quite this mad.

Panting he stood and then gathered Jay into his arms. "I'm takin' my brother home now. Y'all oughta be ashamed of yourselves. God- someone call a fucking ambulance, don't just stand there and stare at 'im."

Jay let Sam support him, wing dragging against the ground as Sam took him to the truck, falling back into the bout of silence and exhaustion he's been in for the past few days, staring straight ahead at nothing but the red in his vision. He kept staring at nothing the whole way back, not bothering to respond to anything Sam said. He should be dead. He should be dead beside her, he thought, hands shaking. Why was God making him live through this? Why would God have let this happen?

He shrugged his church jacket off when they got home and mumbled something to Sam about washing the blood off his hands, slipping away from his brother to the kitchen. Mama's good knife was in the drying rack from Christmas dinner the night before and oh Lord, why did he have to be alive? Lord, why did you take Julia from this earth? He was white with anger when he grabbed it. Lord, let him die here, just let him die.

All the adrenaline from the fight, all the anger came flooding back and he plunged the knife into his chest in a moment of passion. He just couldn't keep living like this, not on a God so uncaring's green earth.

Oh Lord, don't let the babies find me, was the thought in his head as he started gurgling on his blood. God, what have I just done.

Lucinda had stayed exactly as long as was minimally polite and not a damn second longer. She could pay her actual respects to Julia later, when the sun was dim in the early morning and the white-red heat of anger was no longer disturbing the poor girl's rest. She ignored Jay's altercation with the Cabot children–kin slayers and liars, the whole bedeviled lot of them. A family that was curse and plague on the county, no matter how much blood-soaked money they pressed into hands and businesses and the way things ought be run.

She murmured the right condolences, said the right prayers, pressed the right hands, and ignored the fightin like a black oak ignores the rain. Tall, unbending, deep rooted in the face of awfulness. And then she was gone, headed home to cook n clean, give her boy a little bit of time to do his mournin, get his anger goin productive instead.

But what she got was more tragedy–blood slick floor and her best knife stickin outta her own son's chest, and if she hadn't counted every single one o'them cursed blights before headin home she'd think they'd snuck back to finish the job. "Jay?" Her voice trembled just slightly as she fell to the floor next to him, hands fluttering over his body and the knife. "Sammy. SAMMY!" Her voice ratcheted up the octaves as she called for him. "GIT DOWN HERE SAMMY, RIGHT NOW. PAIGE, YOU KEEP THE LITTLE ONES UPSTAIRS, SO HELP ME."

Sam ran down the stairs as fast as he could, taking them three at a time as he rushed to his mother’s voice. He pulled Lucinda away from Jay’s body as gently as possible. “Mama…. Go get the van…. I’ll get ‘im. I’ve got him Mama. Mama you’ve gotta get up.”

"Van?" Lucinda murmured. "Yes, yes of course." She wiped her hands down her dress, Sunday attire already ruint by the blood stains n'awful memories. Some of the rattiest clean blankets she could grab, an old throw pillow, somethin. Anythin that might help her boy git to the hospital alive. A few were piled on the seat as she laid it flat, and she honked the horn for Sammy to bring him out instead of goin back in.

Sam knew enough to leave the knife in, even though it pained him to see it sticking out of Jay’s chest. He scooped up his baby brother into his arms as gently as possible. He should have rushed to the van, but he couldn’t make himself move any faster. If he moved too fast he might hurt Jay. He’d already hurt Jay enough for one lifetime.

His clothes were already bloodstained from the fight, but now he could feel Jay’s blood seeping into his clothes. He didn’t want to think about how many showers he’d need to feel clean after this.

“Here he is Mama.” Sam said, calm and collected as every fiber of his being wanted to scream and sob in equal measure.

"Make sure he's buckled down tight now, ya hear? Cain't have'em movin around all over the back, an' I'm gonna need ya to stay here with the kids n Paige." Lucinda's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, and her voice barely wobbled as she gave Sammy directions. "Get the kitchen mopped up a bit afore the littles see it. None of 'em old enough to be seein that yet."

Sam listened to his mother. As he always had he listened to his mother. He knew there was no use in pushing to go with them. His job was to take care of the kids she left behind. He was used to that job.

“Yes Ma’am.” He said, walking back into the house. He cleaned the kitchen top to bottom, scrubbing until his hands were raw. When he was finished he went into his room, grabbing a change of clean clothes and then went to the bathroom to clean himself.

Sam turned on the shower, toed off his boots, and climbed in fully clothed. He sat down, letting the cold water soak him to the bone until he felt like a corpse. His brother’s blood stained the the tub red, but as far as Sam was concerned the blood was all over his hands.