Chapter Text
Few things were ever certain in the wasteland. Death, sand and man’s greed. Jack understood these facts, lived them even, however the depth of that greed never ceased to catch him off guard.
“I am the man who caught the sun!” the gravelly voice of the Immortan Joe garbled throughout the stone towers of the citadel. Jack could almost make out the yellowing straw white of his hair from his vantage point on creaking rusted scaffolding.
“I am your redeemer!”
The large crowd scattered throughout similar scaffolding returned his fervour, hands raised in the sign of the V8 in praise. Beside him, Furiosa raised her own interlaced fingers. However, she only made it about halfway up her chest.
“Through my hands, I give you water” he continued, voice cutting through the noise.
“Through my hands, I give you life!”
This was new.
“Today, I have rewarded my most loyal Imperator Longshot with the gift of life” High above his own balcony Jack could see the familiar shape of Imperator Longshot standing beside The Immortan, face reduced to a black smudge in the distance.
Curious, Jack mused to himself.
“A full-life son!” with that, a small squealing pink thing was hefted into view of the crowd. While the masses cheered, Jack turned an inquisitive eye to Furiosa, her own eyebrow raised in response. Behind her eyes was nothing but cold chrome steel.
It had been a good while since Jack had seen a baby so young, they weren’t exactly common in the citadel, typically nursed in the breeding pits with their whelpers until they were old enough to be weaned. Parentage never entered the equation, only their status as full or half-life children mattered.
“I salute you, my Imperator, may the child you sired serve the V8 well!”
The roar of water cascading down the cliffside drowned the answering thunder of the crowd.
A curious development indeed.
Some time later, seated in the mess hall Jack caught snippets of conversation surrounding him.
“Any Imperator spawn ‘as gotta be tough!” one voice spat, “It’s in ees blood”
“ ‘Perator Longshot musta done something real shine” another agreed.
“D’ya think the other Imperator’s ‘ave babies?” someone else called above the noise.
“Where do babies even come from?”
A chorus of laughter erupted around the table, meanwhile, Furiosa choked on her mouthful of food.
Jack sat scraping the remains of beans and rice off his plate, contemplating the events of the day. Immortan Joe’s gift to Longshot was unprecedented. The only children of any bloodline were Joe’s own sons, while Imperator Longshot’s recent raid hauls had been impressive, allowing someone to publicly sire a baby had never been done before.
Beside him, Furiosa sat shovelling down her meal, brow furrowed and gaze steely. Similarly contemplating it seemed.
Which of the breeders had borne Longshot’s baby? Jack wondered to himself, the privilege of visiting the breeding pits was hard-earned in itself. War Boys had to come from somewhere after all. But that was all it was, a visit. As the jostling crew seated at their table chattered and clamoured beside them both, one of the younger crew boys was shoved into Furiosa’s side, spilling her last few bites of rice.
The look she gave him could have melted cold steel; the boy wisely scampered away to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.
Ever since Joe’s speech at the cliffs, Furiosa had been in a sour mood. Spoke even less than usual, what would have typically been companionable silence between them was instead stony. Or, more than it would have been anyway. It had been some seven hundred days since Jack had lost his crew, since he had stopped the rig and pulled her wild from Fury Road. But the few things he did know about her were outweighed by what he didn’t.
He knew she liked the occasional green mush they were given for meals, that she would only eat beans if nothing else was available. He knew that she was good at cards, but rarely joined in the rough-housing that happened afterwards.
He knew she was a woman, and he knew that set her apart from the men surrounding them in a way he’d never quite understand.
He wasn’t sure he’d ever comprehend her fully – the faraway look in her eye told him that her life had been tough, that she was haunted by something she hadn’t shared with him. But he trusted her regardless. Trusted her enough to share the few possessions he owned with her. Trusted her to watch his back in the rig.
Bringing her to The Immortan that first night had been challenging, to say the least – they’d been so lucky that recent raids had gone badly enough that The Immortan had seen more use to her as a Praetorian apprentice than a future breeder, or milker.
“She’ll be your apprentice Jack; make good use of this gift I’m giving you”
Furiosa had come a long way since those early days, he’d shown her almost everything he knew. How to pick out a crew, which War Boys would sooner throw themselves into Valhalla than others. Where every gun and knife were hidden in the cabin, and those stashed further down the body of the rig. How to survive in road war and how to endure the citadel. She still had things to learn, and she still needed to earn her rank.
But most of all, Jack knew he liked having her at his side.
“I heard The Immortan wanted to ensure that Longshot would have a successor” Praetorian Carver offered over the top of his cards, the group of Praetorians sat playing their usual round of evening poker.
“Longshot was travelling further and further out, reckon Joe wanted to make sure he’d come back” Praetorian Plasma returned, placing his own card down.
Jack was not winning this game tonight. Crap.
“Who’s his bitch?” Carver asked, contemplating his cards.
“Dunno” Praetorian Frenzy supposed, watching as Furiosa played her hand. A round of collective groans went through the circle of players. She’d won. Again.
Tonight was just not his night for cards.
Later in the evening, settled onto her bedding, Furiosa silently counted out her winnings, eight ration bars. Jack really would have had to give up the poker nights if she didn’t share her winnings with him, she’d certainly fleeced him enough times.
Around them, their collection of crew members, War Boys and Blackthumbs alike, settled into similar bedding, quiet chatter amongst them.
“You’ve gotten too good at poker” he declared, gathering a small bottle of clean water and some rags.
Furiosa smirked in response, eyes glittering in the dark.
“They’ll ban you from the games if you keep winning like that” Jack continued, sitting on the corner of her bed.
A small huff of amusement into the dark room.
“Not my fault they can’t keep a straight face” she retorted.
Furiosa turned on the bed and bared her left shoulder, underneath the thin linen shirt her skin rippled with a nasty burn, red but not overly inflamed. A souvenir from a flamethrower-wielding buzzard on a recent run. Jack cleaned the healing wound, before slathering it in a thick layer of petroleum jelly. Then moved down her arm to repeat the process on a few other injuries.
Bruises fading from deep purple into shades of yellow and green.
“Any others?” he asked quietly, setting down his tools.
Furiosa shook her head, warm eyes running over his own form as she tucked herself into the threadbare blanket and rolled to face the wall. Jack let himself watch her for a few moments, the rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing, before following suit.
The gossip surrounding Imperator Longshot and his son slowly settled in the days that followed. Though every time he was spotted around the citadel the whispers started up again for a time. Jack and Furiosa continued their usual routines unbothered.
“I think we’ll finish the engine today” one of the Black Thumbs, Slag, offered as he wiped the black grease from his hands.
Jack nodded, “Well on schedule then?” He replied as he clapped the other man on the shoulder. Meanwhile, Furiosa was lost somewhere among the painted bodies that swarmed the rig. Probably elbow-deep in grease and sweat.
“That girl of yours is a better blackthumb than you by now Jack” Slag replied, a wry grin on his lips.
Jack chuckled, catching sight of Furiosa’s long hair moving along the gangway of the Kenworth toward the excavator, a War Boy in tow with a belt full of tools. Ever since it had been built and he’d earned the right to drive it, the chrome rig had felt like Jack’s second home. By now, it seemed like Furiosa was just at home as he was within the shining chrome of the cabin.
“When’s she earning her paint?” Slag continued, watching as Furiosa directed the surrounding crew.
“She’s ready I reckon” Jack offered, “haven’t heard anything from up top”
“Praetorian!” a small voice interrupted, a young war pup running through the tunnels and slipping among the crowd towards them.
“The Immortan’s called ya!” he cried.
Curious.
"No worries" Jack nodded towards him, meanwhile his eyes searched the cavern to find Furiosa already staring towards him from her position on the Kenworth. She flicked her chin toward him in question.
Everything okay?
Jack felt the side of his mouth pull into a half smile as he nodded his response.
All good.