Mountain Strong - A Sasil Fic
A/N: I’m so disappointed that this awesome show that brought us this amazing couple has been canceled. Kyle and Christina were absolutely amazing and I’ll miss watching them act together dearly. I look forward to following both of their careers and I wish them the best. I started writing this fic after the finale while we were all sharing the petition and crossing our fingers that the show would get picked up by another network or streaming service, unfortunately I had to finish it a bit brokenhearted. Still, #ShayMustStay … only it’ll have to live on in fanfics, fanart, fanvids etc. Here’s my contribution to keeping the mountain magic alive… and especially Hasil and Sally Ann. I’ve loved chatting with you all about these two! 🖤
Summary: It’s been seventeen years since Hasil was almost killed in a shoot-out with the coal company security team. Sally Ann shares the story with her curious teenager.
“Y'all c'mon! Dinner’s ready!” I shouted to my family, not exactly sure where any of them were. Amos came runnin’ in from the back porch, wood shavings stuck in his sweater and hair. “Hey baby, slow your roll… and go wash those hands.”
“Where’s your fa?” I called after him, but there was no need. Two strong arms snaked their way around my waist.
“I’m right here, Darlin’.” Hasil gave my earlobe a nibble and my butt a pat. “How was your day? Smells good in here!” He walked over to the stove and peeked inside of the various pots and pans while Amos scrambled back into the kitchen like a little tornado, ready to show off his latest carving.
“Look daddy.” He passed the wooden figure off to Hasil. “I did the wings better this time. Look.”
Hasil sat in a chair and grinned at me before takin’ the carving from his boy. He inspected it closely. “Mighty fine. You done a real nice job, but did you mind your mother and wash those hands?”
Amos wiped his wet, but still clearly dirty, hands across his pants. “Yes sir.”
“That so? It don’t look like it.” He gave a nod toward the bathroom. “Go try again, with soap this time. And where’s your sister?”
Amos gave an evil little grin. “Cryin’ in her room.”
Hasil looked to me, confused, but all I did was return his expression. “Well what’s wrong with her?” he asked.
“She got d-u-m-p dumped!” He shrugged and ran off.
Hasil looked at me again, but this time I avoided his eyes. He stood up. “Sally Ann.”
I busied myself over the food, even though it was all done and ready to be served. “Hmm?”
“I got an inklin’, but maybe you could clarify for me what exactly he means by ‘she got dumped.’”
I laughed to try to ease his worries. “It’s nothin’ babe. There’s this guy… you remember Justin?”
He put his hand on his hip and stared at me. “No. No I don’t remember no Justin.”
“Hasil you met ‘im like three different times.”
He raised his eyebrows, at a loss.
I sighed. “Well they had a lil crush, you know?”
Hasil held up his hand and nodded. “Yeah. Yeah I got it. So what’s Amos mean she got dumped?”
I looked at him out the corner of my eye. “Hasil babe, you know what it means.”
“Nah, I must not cuz if she got dumped, that means she had herself a boyfriend and that ain’t quite the same as a lil crush—”
“Hasil she’s sixteen years old, c'mon now. We’ve talked about this.”
He ignored me and continued. “Also, what kind of foolish idiot does this Jared kid gotta be to dump my baby girl?”
I laughed and gave him a peck on the lips. “It’s Justin babe, and he’s obviously the extra foolish kind.”
“I know you are.”
“I’m gonna go talk to her,” he said.
“No, let me. Teenage girls don’t wanna talk to their fa’s about boys. Wrangle Amos and y'all go ahead and eat. I’ll take some up for Starla.”
I knocked on the door to my daughter’s room before peekin’ my head inside. “Starla baby you okay?” I asked the lump in the middle of her mattress.
I only received sniffles in response, so I opened the door wider and held her plate of food out in front of me. It only took a few seconds for the scent of my roast chicken, mashed potatoes, and green beans to reach her nose. Her pretty lil head popped out from beneath the blankets like a turtle from its shell. “I thought that might do the trick.” I put her plate down on her desk and watched as she rolled from her bed and sat in her chair, takin’ her whole comforter with her as she did.
I smiled at my girl. Treasurin’ the way she still called me Mama. The way it took me back to when she was just a lil girl playin’ dress up in her daddy’s kilt. She started in on her dinner while I sat on her bed and thumbed through one of the many ancient magazines she loved to collect.
“Take the quiz in there,” she said.
“'Does he really love you?’ Page sixteen.”
I turned to the page. “Sweetheart I don’t think a flow chart that starts with the question 'How fast does he text you back?’ is gonna give the fairest picture of me and your fa’s relationship.” She didn’t say anything back, so I humored her and took the quiz. I sighed when I finished a few minutes later.
She wiped her mouth on a paper towel and crawled in bed next to me. “What it’d say?” she asked, snugglin’ up.
“Well. It says 'This guy hates your guts. Run away. Now. As fast as you can. Save yourself the embarrassment.’” I looked down to find a smilin’ face staring up at me behind a tangled mass of curls. “You look pleased. Am I missin’ somethin’?”
“You and daddy always beat the odds. Even on stupid quizzes.”
I gave her a squeeze and kissed the top of her head. “Do you wanna talk about what happened with Justin?”
She shook her head. “No. He’s stupid. I shoulda known better when daddy couldn’t ever remember his name.”
“Careful with that. There’s a good chance your daddy won’t remember the name of any boy you bring around.”
She laughed into the blankets. “He will Mama. There’ll be one, one day, and then I’ll know.”
“That he’s a good one.”
Starla was cuddled up with me, but there was no denyin’ that she was a daddy’s girl through and through. I wouldn’t’ve wanted it any other way. I was thankful every day that my babies got to have a mom and dad, somethin’ neither Hasil nor I ever got to experience.
Starla adjusted herself on the bed, getting comfortable. “Will you tell me a story?”
“Sure baby. What do you wanna hear?”
“Tell me about the time daddy almost died.”