Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Chapter 1: Vacation of the Undead (Day 3, Monument Day)

(Y/N) had woken up earlier than she had originally planned. Their first day at comic-con, while fun, had been as exhausting as she had originally expected. After tucking Fabian into his bed, handing the well-loved Funshine bear and giving both a rather wet kiss goodnight, she had passed out within seconds of her head hitting her pillow. (Y/N) was sure that she’d be asleep for a good ten hours or so with how tired she felt the night before, but glancing over at the hotel clock by her side of the bed showed she only got in a good seven hours of sleep instead. She still felt tired, but no matter how often she tossed and turned on the creaky mattress, she couldn’t find it in her to go back to sleep.

Giving up on the fight, (Y/N) kicked off her covers and began getting ready for day two of their trip. Fabian and her had spent a good week putting together a tentative itinerary for each day, (Y/N)’s own father helping them get a good idea of times and how long it could take and thinking up backups in case something went wrong. It brought a smile to her face, recalling her father and her son arguing playfully together while sitting in front of the family desktop trying to get their plans together while she merely sat back with a mug of tea. 

Today they had planned to sneak in a few panels between autographs and photo-ops, if they had the time. It was going to be the most stressful day of the three days. Yesterday was fairly easy. They had come in the day before Starstruck Comic-Con and spent that day finding where they needed to go and making sure anything they forgot could be found elsewhere in either Addison, Texas, where they managed to book a room, or Dallas itself. Then Day 1 of the convention had been wandering around and looking at the main floor and artist alley and finding where autographs would be held while knocking off a few planned ones earlier than planned. They had been there all day and today would most likely be the same. This time in cosplay.

(Y/N) had been cosplaying for a while now, though it had gone down some once Fabian came into her life so she reused old ones rather than making new ones and instead introduced her son to the hobby once he got interested. She had only planned a cosplay for two days, a comfy one for Day 2 and one not as comfortable for Day 3 but was easy to change out of once they left for the airport. 

Fabian himself was going as one of his favorite characters of all time for both days. The ten year old boy had gotten obsessed with Ben 10 over the last few years. After it ended in 2008, he had begged his mom to buy the series on DVD so he could watch it whenever. He had gotten it for his birthday that year. With his mom’s help he had made his own white and black shirt and even used Christmas money to buy the Omnitrix. (Y/N) could make no mistake that Fabian looked almost identical to Ben himself, though she drew the line at buying green contacts for him. If he wants to use colored contacts, he can wait until he’s older and can handle the contact care process.

Opening her suitcase, (Y/N) took out the necessary materials for the day before she headed to the bathroom to do her own private business. She debated about taking a shower, her hair not looking its best, but decided against it. She’d be wearing a hat most of the day anyways, there wasn’t any need to make sure the (H/C) locks looked voluminous. 

She set the clothes on the seat of the toilet and started putting each piece on, making sure to keep an ear out in case she hears her son beginning to wake up. A pair of comfy breathable shorts went on first before she wrestled the long sleeved green shirt over her head. Then the dark blue overalls, buttons painted gold, and cotton white socks on her feet. She pulled her hair back out of her face and glanced at the green hat and tucked it into the large front pocket, walking out of the bathroom to check in on her kid once again. 

Seeing he was still asleep, she turned on the TV and quickly turned the volume down, just enough that she could still hear what was going on but it wasn’t too loud to bother anyone else. (Y/N) sat on her bed and glanced over at the hotel phone and the piece of paper that rested beside it.

She doubted Jordan was up yet (eight in the morning not being unheard of for Jordan to be up and about but it was a rare occurrence these days. The other woman preferred waking up later in the day, especially after her debut success in the new YouTube scene) but there was little else (Y/N) could do by herself without waking Fabian up earlier than she wanted to. So with nothing to do but watch Spongebob reruns or the news, she picked up the landline and followed the laminated card’s instructions to call her friend’s room.

A few seconds was all it took before the call was picked up.

“Hello?” The voice on the other end sounded clogged and scratchy.

“Holy shit you’re actually up,” (Y/N) couldn’t help but laugh. “I didn’t think you would be.”

A whine, sounding more like a groan, followed through on the other end. 

“Then why’d you call if you didn’t think I’d be up?” Jordan grumbled. (Y/N) heard a rustle of sheets and the creaking of a mattress. 

“I dunno. Just wanted something to do. I’ve already seen this Spongebob episode and didn’t feel up to changing the channel.” (Y/N) glanced over at Fabian, who snorted a bit in his sleep as he rolled over, his blanket being kicked off as he slung a bare foot off the bed. “And Fabian isn’t gonna wake up for at least another half hour so I can’t go exploring the hotel for that pool you promised us. You know he’ll want to go tonight after the Con.”

“Ah yeah, can’t let anything slip by that kid of yours. Sometimes I swear it feels like I talk to two of you. If he doesn’t catch a slip up, it’s you that does, and vice versa.”

They both chuckled at that.

“Yeah, I taught him well on that front,” (Y/N) sighed. “At least you only get that attitude when you visit, I’m stuck with it twenty-four-seven.”

Jordan laughed, sounding more awake. “That was your choice to make to have a kid. I’m happy with my child free life.”

“And yet you spend a lot of your free time at our place instead of yours. We should’ve gotten you a new cat.” (Y/N) regretted bringing that up as soon as it left her mouth, already feeling the atmosphere of their short conversation turning gloomy. 

“I’m not ready for a new cat,” Jordan said. “I miss having Baxtor and Rose around, I miss having cats around in general, but I had those two for so long, I don’t think I could handle it anytime soon. And knowing you, you'd try to get me to get a senior kitty too.”

“Yeah, I feel you on that. I think that’s why I can’t get a fur baby, even though I know Fabian wants one so badly. I couldn’t handle any of mine dying growing up, I don’t want to make him feel that kind of loss…”

“And yet it’s an experience we end up feeling no matter what,” Jordan sighed. “I should probably get ready now. I don’t want to get out of bed though. The sheets may be scratchy but they’re warm now and the air conditioning in this place is so cold in the morning.”

(Y/N) quirked a smile. “I’ll let you get to that. I should wake my kid up anyways. Maybe we can make it to breakfast today before we head to the convention.”

“Sounds like a plan. Meet you down there in thirty?”

“Yep. I’ll see you then.”

Hanging up, (Y/N) squared her shoulders, adjusting the straps to the overalls as they shifted off and got up from her bed to walk to the other.

Waking Fabian (L/N) was no easy feat. (Y/N) feels like it’s karma kicking her in the ass for all the times she gave her own parents a hard time when it came to mornings. When it felt like he was close to staying awake, he’d turn over, blankets packed once more around him like a burrito’s tortilla, and fall back asleep like it was nothing more than taking a sip of water. Eventually she got him to sit up and stay up to watch a few minutes of the next Spongebob episode before they had to get him dressed for the day. 

After he was dressed and brushed in all the proper places, (Y/N) ushered them out of the hotel and down to the lobby, where their free breakfast and Jordan were waiting for them. (Y/N)’s best friend was already sitting at a table, a mug of something hot steaming in front of her and a half eaten bagel beside that. She waved to the two (L/N)s once she saw them coming her way.

Jordan was wearing what (Y/N) liked to call “Con-Bounding”. She wore a handmade dress, commissioned from (Y/N) herself, that had Eevee variations decorated along the skirt and bodice on light pink fabric. A dark purple ribbon was tied under her breasts, where the skirt flared out, with a matching purple petticoat to make the skirt poofier, even with the hidden pocket on the left side. A pair of purple Espeon ears rested in her black hair, and she had glued a large circular gem on her forehead. She had put on very little makeup, though did line her brown eyes with purple eyeliner and put sparkling dust on her cheeks, making her already glowing light brown skin glitter like a vampire in sunlight whenever she gave a wide smile. 

“You’re three minutes late,” Jordan smirked.

“Says the woman who is always late,” (Y/N) snapped back, her own cocky smile spreading across her face. She was rewarded with an eye roll from both her son and her friend before she steered Fabian towards the breakfast bar. 

The three ate their breakfast fairly fast, with short conversations between every few bites passed between all of them. (Y/N) also took the time to look around, curious and wanting to People Watch. 

There was a group of elderly people against the wall, about five or six of them sitting together with two wobbly tables pushed together. A couple, young enough to almost be considered teenagers, were huddled  at a booth, giggling and whispering while their hands and feet were linked on opposite sides of the table. A few tables were still dirty, covered in food from previous guests, and one, near where they were sitting, had a hotel worker wiping down the table as their coworker swept what fell on the floor. (Y/N) could hear a commotion coming from the front of the lobby, the voices bouncing off the walls and echoing into the separate room that held the free continental breakfast and the dining tables. There weren’t any large windows, not like in the hotels in larger and well-known cities where it reached both floor and ceiling, but there was one long window that wrapped around two walls, almost like one really large and flat bay window. It looked out to the parking lot, where a few smokers were huddled together under a small canopy tent. Despite the clouds in the sky and the sun not being all the way up, they looked miserable outside, no doubt the heat was already getting to the point of sweltering. There was one TV in the room, set up to face the open doorway to the rest of the lobby. (Y/N) had a good view of the news as it played on the screen, and was thankful that Fabian had his back facing away. 

The last few days the news had been clogged with disaster after disaster to the point that (Y/N) and Jordan had thought about not going through with their trip, sponsor paid or not. Reading and hearing about the many attacks, random or not, frazzled their nerves and (Y/N) didn’t want to go too far from home in case something happened to either them or her parents. If there was an emergency, she wanted to be as close as possible. Her parents had denied her of this, of course, planning a trip to Atlanta, Georgia that same weekend, wanting to explore their world as they had started retirement only three years prior. 

So despite the bad news outweighing the good, Jordan and (Y/N) hiked up their Big Girl pants and got on the plane anyway, bags and Fabian in tow. 

“So we’re going to that one panel about Hetalia after we get Orlando Bloom's photo op this morning,” Jordan said, putting her cup on her empty plate and pushing it further away, putting their itinerary in its place. “And then we have Ron Perlman’s autograph at eleven-thirty, Summer Glau’s Photo-Op at noon, the Cartoon Network panel after lunch and the Star Trek Photo-Op at three. Was there anything else you wanted to do today?”

“We have to stop at the booth to film for your sponsor too. You can do that with us while we’re at the Cartoon Network panel,” (Y/N) said. 

Jordan groaned. “I forgot that’s why we’re here. To think, taking on a sponsor would be so draining these days.”

“Well, they’re becoming more serious now that YouTube’s more than just a passing fancy for the public.” 

“I like YouTube,” Fabian piped up, wiping his mouth with his sleeve. (Y/N) feared he already stained the white shirt, but was surprised to find nothing but a wet mark on the fabric. “I started watching this guy, called PewDiePie, and he’s funny. Mom thinks he shouts too much though.”

Jordan turned her attention to the kid. “What does he do? Like what I do?”

Fabian shook his head. “No, he plays this game called Minecraft . It looks fun, but Mom won’t get it for me yet,” he pouted. 

“I already got you two new games, you can wait for another new one,” (Y/N) said, finishing her own meal. “I’m gonna clean up, are you done eating?” She said this directly to her son. Nodding, he handed her his plate, and out of the kindness of her heart, (Y/N) grabbed Jordan’s stuff as well. 

The trash was right under the TV on the wall, and as she got closer (Y/N) could hear the news as clearly as if she was in her hotel room that morning. She did her best not to listen too closely, but when she heard the familiar cadence of Barack Obama on the speakers, his tone sounding more serious than usual, she couldn’t help but glance up.

On screen, it looks like the usual “I’m the president, time to address your concerns” conference. Blue background, podium with the bald eagle emblazoned on the front, and the American flag among any other necessary emblems behind the speaker. The grim look on the faces of not only the president but also the advisors behind him looked about as grim as the looks (Y/N) could recall over the years when it came to the super serious press conferences: wars being declared, outbreaks of diseases spreading across the nation, another school shooting…

(Y/N) took a step back, only stopping until her neck no longer felt like snapping off as she looked up at the TV but still close enough that she didn’t necessarily need the subtitles on the screen to understand what was being said. That didn’t stop her from zoning out once the words “Wildfire Virus”, “global outbreak” and “possible pandemic” came out of the president’s mouth.

Walking back felt like it took forever, but she came back once she felt a hand touch hers. She hadn’t realized she had sat down until then, and the concern leaked like heavy oil from Jordan’s stare.

“We might have to skip the rest of the convention,” (Y/N) murmured, trying to tamp down the rising panic that was threatening to spill from her chest.

“What do you mean?” Jordan asked.

 “There’s apparently an outbreak of something, making people sick…” (Y/N) did her best to explain. “Something called Wildflower? Wild file? I don’t know. Sounded way cooler than whatever I’m saying.”

Jordan frowned but glanced at Fabian, who had pulled out his DS once his mother walked away with the trash and didn’t seem to be paying attention to anything around him. “What are the symptoms?”

(Y/N) shrugged. “No idea. Honestly. But if it’s serious enough for Obama and a bunch of advisors to discuss it on TV?” She leant back, crossing her arms in front of her, almost like she was pulling a heavy blanket around her. Yet all she could think of was that her overalls now felt scratchier than ever. “It could be nothing, could be something super serious. Not sure if I want to be somewhere as crowded as Starstruck Comic-Con if it’s the latter, you know? Not with Fabian, not somewhere we barely know where the closest emergency room is.”

Her friend nodded, looking as troubled as she felt. 

“Fair enough,” she finally said. “Fabian’s gonna be crushed though if we just up and leave… Especially since he wanted to meet Tara Strong and Charlie Schlatter this weekend…”

(Y/N) felt something awful squeezing at her heart. “I mean, we can still go? Maybe just leave once it seems like it’s getting too much? There’s still a lot of random riots and violence happening everywhere. We were fine yesterday, but now I feel too on edge to enjoy it.”

Jordan sat thinking for a bit, but nodded. “We can do that. We can head over at ten-thirty instead of after we eat. See how we feel then?”

“Feel about what?” Fabian jumped in, finally cueing in on their conversation after a lull in his game. Jordan and (Y/N) shared a quick look, speaking without words.

“We might not be hanging out at Starstruck-Con for long today, Bumblebee,” (Y/N) finally answered. 

“Aw man, why not?”

(Y/N) debated about lying, but didn’t see anything good coming out of that, especially now that Fabian was old enough to start telling when someone wasn’t being entirely truthful.

“There was something on the news this morning that said there might be something harmful going around and making a lot of people sick,” she settled on saying. “We don’t know much about it, but we don’t want to get sick or make others sick in case we already have it. So we’ll still go, but not as long as yesterday.”

Fabian still looked at his mom with a kicked puppy look, pout sticking out further and blue eyes wide and shining. “We’ll still be able to see Tara Strong, right?”

“Yeah, Bumblebee, we’ll skip the Hetalia panel and we’ll see her instead, okay? We’ll even ask the help desk if we can switch our autograph signing for tomorrow for today too. We just won’t be going until a little later.”

A smile was now on his face as he instantly agreed, kicking his feet under his chair as he returned back to his game with renewed fervor. Jordan and (Y/N) shared a look once more, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel the dread pooling at the bottom of her stomach. Something didn’t feel right, but she still couldn’t put a finger on why exactly. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 2: Too Late to Call Out Sick (Day 3, Monument Day)

  The trio had arrived at the convention closer to eleven-thirty. Fabian was bouncing in his shoes, smiling wide as he got compliments on his cosplay from other fans as they made their way to the autograph area. Jordan had her camera case strapped across her body, ready for the filming they were going to do later that day if they decided to stay that long, and (Y/N) had finished strapping back on the prop toolbelt after being peacebonded. 

Standing in line was the easiest part. Staying entertained was harder, especially in a place where you don’t want to carry too much in case you’re more of a tripping hazard than a human being. Fabian had his DS, still fully charged, and was taking care of his puppies while Jordan and his mother stood with him. They were quietly talking together, the ten year old standing between them and unaware to the world outside walking his digital dogs and doing agility training. Twenty minutes in, the line began to slowly move, so the boy closed his screen and put it back in the black and red travel case. 

“Is she already here?” he asked, bouncing on his toes.

“Sure looks like it,” his mom said, plastering a smile on her face. It didn’t reach her eyes. Jordan nodded quietly in agreement as they started shuffling slowly towards the table. Fabian could see other Ben Tennysons walking down the exit line with glossy photos in their hands and knew that they were getting closer to seeing Ben Tennyson herself. 

(Y/N) wasn’t unaware of Fabian’s excitement, could feel a little of her own beginning to leak through, but worry and anxiety prevailed to let her enjoy this moment at its fullest. She couldn’t shake that feeling from the pit of her stomach after they left breakfast. It didn’t help that after leaving their hotel rooms for the last time that morning, with the last of their props or cargo in hand, she noticed a fight break out in the back parking lot of the hotel from her hotel room window. By the time they made it back to the lobby, there were sirens echoing in the air. They passed it in their rental car as they headed to Dallas and the pit seemed to deepen into a pond with each passing minute. 

“I can see the worry oozing out of you like sludge,” Jordan whispered to her. They were only a few people away from Tara Strong herself. Fabian was nearly vibrating out of his shoes and settling her hands on his shoulders only slowed it down slightly.

“I like to call it Motherly Instincts,” (Y/N) whispered back. “Something just doesn’t feel right, but I can’t explain why.”

They moved forwards again.

“You see, there’s a reason I don’t watch the news past the weather and traffic anymore these days,” she continued. “I swear my anxiety had peaked back in college, but news stories made it far worse. There’s only so much that puppy and kitten stories can do to ease that paranoia, Jordan.”

“I know that,” her friend responded. “Honestly, I do. But I think it’s getting to the point that you’re making everyone else anxious. You’re starting to sway.”

(Y/N) stopped as soon as Jordan said it. She didn’t even notice she had begun to rock side to side on her feet, a habit she could never break no matter how hard she tried in her teens and, again, in her twenties. In the end she gave up trying, focusing more on taking care of Fabian and her parents, and even herself, instead. 

“Sorry,” she muttered, but didn’t feel any guilt over it anymore. “Hey, Bumblebee, how about lunch after this? Wanna risk Con Pizza?” (Y/N) turned more of her attention to her son, running her fingers through his brown hair to get his attention.

“Sure! Pizza sounds good!” he said.

The signing went smoothly, Fabian doing his best to talk to Tara Strong without mumbling into his chest with bright cheeks, but his eyes dazzled as he held onto his Ben 10 photo with only his name on it, the first of many he hoped to one day have. His mother and his honorary aunt trailed after, giving thanks to the voice actress as they tried to catch up to the ten year old.

“That wasn’t as painful as I thought it would be,” (Y/N) sighed. “I thought he’d talk her ear off, honestly, and we’d have a hard time peeling him off the table so others would get their turn.”

Jordan giggled at the thought but didn’t deny that idea didn’t cross her mind either. “You always said kids could be unpredictable.”

“I usually say that when they do something they shouldn’t,” (Y/N) laughed. The pond of unease was still there but it was easier to push it aside as they moved through the crowd and to the nearest food stand, where their unhealthy and probably disgusting lunch was waiting for them. “I told you about that kid at work that scratched two students in a row for no reason, right? You never know what to expect from her anymore, and it doesn’t help that her usual teacher is so strict compared to her parents who are so lenient that they don’t know how to parent. It’s frustrating, honestly. I feel sorry for whatever our principal decides to do about her situation.”

“Like, kicking her out or finding a more suitable teacher?” 

“It’s most likely gonna be kicking her out,” (Y/N) stated sadly. “Her current teacher is already her second one and she’s visited other rooms for the afternoons and it's not much better.”

“Dang, that sucks for the kid,” Jordan muttered. She looked ready to say something else, but it was dropped as soon as they reached the food stand and had to order their lunch. 

Finding a spot to eat was difficult. 

There were many spots open for just one person only, but with how spread out they were, neither woman felt comfortable being that far from each other. So they looked further away from the main eating areas and tried finding a spot near the windows. A few times they got close to a good spot only to find photographers taking up the space or security standing guard and denying others from sitting in the area. By the time they managed to find a cozy spot in the corner of the third floor, the cheese on their expensive (and kind of crappy looking) pizza had congealed enough that the whole thing nearly came off with one pepperoni. On the bright side there were very few people on this floor and it was cool enough that none felt overheated sitting next to the sunny windows. 

The trio had their backs situated against the glass of the large floor length windows, the A/C vent blowing hard up their backs and cooling the sweat that had accumulated on their skin over the last hour.

“Are we still up to seeing that Cartoon Network Panel?” (Y/N) asked the other two. “Or do we want to visit that booth again first and then see the panel? We never really settled that earlier.”

“I wanna go back to the merch floor,” Fabian piped up. His cheeks were covered in red sauce and his mouth was still full of cheesy goodness as he spoke. “I wanna see the stuffed animals again. Oh! And the action figures! I wanna see if they have that one Tommy was talking about before we left.” He swallowed and put the leftover crust of his pizza back on the flimsy paper plate. “You know, the Iron Man one!”

“We can definitely look for it,” (Y/N) said fondly, and handed her kid a clean napkin for his face. 

Jordan looked out the window as she took the last bite of her pizza, wiping the excessive grease from her fingers as she chewed. There seemed to be a bit of a commotion out in the convention yard. (Y/N) looked outside herself and watched as someone lunged at a group of girls dressed like Sailor Moon. A Tuxedo Mask and a Sailor Mars stepped in to get the guy off but instead they started to attack them instead. 

“Oof, I hope security comes to break that mess up,” (Y/N) said.

Jordan nodded. “I just hope no one gets seriously hurt.”

A woman in the bright yellow and black security shirt walked out and began to try to de-escalate the situation. Whatever she was saying wasn’t getting the guy off. (Y/N) looked away to see if Fabian was watching at all and was satisfied to see him back on his DS and waiting for his mom and aunt to finish whatever it was they were doing. Which apparently was watching a fight like they were in high school again.

“Oh, shit,” Jordan hissed, adjusting herself that she was now facing the window entirely. 

(Y/N) did the same, putting her half eaten lunch on the floor as she twisted around to see what caught Jordan’s attention. 

Bright red was spraying from the security woman’s neck as the crowd of people that was slowly gathering to see the fight began to disperse faster than ground pepper in water meeting soap. Even from the third floor they could hear screaming, faint as it was. The attacker had pulled back, something looking like tendons stuck in his teeth, before it snapped and sprayed more blood across the concrete. He lunged back towards the security woman, hands pushing her down on the ground and digging his face back into her neck.

“Jesus Henrietta Christ,” (Y/N) breathed out, heart hammering in her chest. She felt sick. “Is this some kind of interactive play?”

“U-Um, I-I,” Jordan stuttered, too shocked to speak.

This caught Fabian’s attention this time, looking up from his game to see what his mom was seeing that was making her look as pale as a ghost. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, pressing closer to his mom to get a better look. She didn’t hesitate to cover his eyes as, once more, the man pulled up and took a handful of bright red and pushed it into his mouth. There’s no way that’s some fake prop meat , (Y/N) thought. She wanted to throw up at the sight. 

“Hey! I can’t see!”

“That’s the point. You don’t need to see, Rated R. No. Rated X. Not even suitable for France!” (Y/N) said, feeling almost hysterical herself. 

“There’s another one!” a man nearby called out. A group cosplaying as some of the Fruits Basket characters were sitting nearby, also eating their lunch and cooling off near the air vents, and the man cosplaying Kyo looked ready to vomit on his shoes. Yuki and Tohru looked down in horror and Shigure was pointing down at the crowd to the left, where another stumbling figure was making their way towards some of the unaware and panicking runners. 

(Y/N) watched in horror as it lunged at a little girl, pulling her away from her father and biting into her arm. She watched in satisfaction as the dad, taking action, pulled the guy off his kid and punched him, knocking him to the ground. It didn’t keep him down and he got back up, still stumbling like a drunk looking for his next round of shots, and this time grabbed at the shirt of the father. His daughter was holding her arm and screaming, no doubt crying but (Y/N) couldn’t see from this distance, while the woman with them, her mother maybe, tried her best to help stop the bleeding while calming down the child. 

Bright yellow caught her attention again and she looked back at the security woman, who had been abandoned by the first stumbling drunk (were they drunk? She couldn’t be sure now, maybe they were on some kind of drug. Could drugs do this?) who was limping towards someone else, a girl dressed like Agent Scully who happened to be the unlucky one nearby. 

The security woman, who had more red than yellow on her shirt, sat up. (Y/N)’s (E/C) eyes tracked as the hand holding onto the wound at her neck fell limp at her side, the entire arm leaking blood. (Y/N) watched as she stumbled to her feet, head wobbling from side-to-side as she nearly fell over again on the cement. 

Oddly enough, her assailant ignored her.

“Is this a play? I don’t like this play if it is.” Fabian asked, his voice small. He had managed to pull off his mother’s hand from his face and looked white as a sheet. “Why is no one trying to help her?” He curled further into his mother’s side, no longer curious, and tried to hide behind her shoulder. (Y/N) tried to respond, giving some form of vocal comfort, but her voice hadn’t come back in the seconds since the first spray of blood. Instead she wrapped her arm around him, bringing him close as tears pricked at the corner of her eyes.

“We should go,” Jordan urged. “Go back to the hotel. Our car is in the underground garage, so we just have to make sure that we can get out without running some poor soul over.” She started to get up, grabbing all her stuff, leaving her trash on the floor without a second thought. Jordan pulled on (Y/N)’s arm, the one not holding onto Fabian, both following with little resistance.

They walked past the Fruits Basket group, who were now yelling and panicking towards each other, and countless others who were now at the windows trying to catch what was happening through the hushed whispers or surprised shouts of current onlookers.

(Y/N) made sure that her hammer and cellphone were still on her. Despite it being a prop and peacebonded, it was indeed a real hammer. She was shocked it was allowed in, but the peacebonders had zip tied it tight to her toolbelt to avoid any chance of it being used as a real weapon against fellow con-goers. Now she hoped it wasn’t too tight that she wasn’t able to get it out to protect themselves against fellow con-goers. 

They waited anxiously at the elevators. (Y/N) felt like ants were crawling on her skin with each second that passed, and was going to suggest taking the stairs when the elevator dinged and opened the doors. 

It was surprisingly empty, but they didn’t waste time in pondering why before they got on and pressed the button down to the basement level. From there, they met the flurry of panicked guests and attendees. A group was pushing each other as the elevator that led to the parking garage opened its doors. (Y/N), this time, didn’t hesitate heading towards the stairs instead, dragging Jordan and Fabian behind her as she weaved her way through the crowd.

A few times they nearly collided with someone else, bumping into them and nearly falling to the floor themselves, but they made it to the door that led to the stairs. It was propped open with a bright orange doorstop, and a stream of people, cosplay and not, were dashing down it to get to their own various cars. A few props were thrown precariously on the floor, kicked to the side as they were trampled, but no one cared as long as they didn’t trip.

Jordan had parked their rental on the second floor of the parking garage. They were surprised at such a close spot, but didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. Now they were glad they were so close, as they branched off from the others after two flights, rushing to B34, where their silver Subaru Outback was parked with their extra snacks in the backseat. 

(Y/N) tossed the keys to Jordan as she helped Fabian into the back seat of the car, not closing the door until she saw that he had buckled in, and hopped into the front passenger seat. Buckled in, she gave the okay to Jordan to start the car and go. A few times they had to pause, as a car drove past them like their asses were on fire, but (Y/N) stayed surprisingly calm during each near collision, helping the dark haired woman to continue to back out. Eventually they left their spot and started the way up to the exit, a slow pace but movement nonetheless.

“Is everyone okay?” (Y/N) asked, once they were in line to the garage exit. She reached behind her, grasping Fabian’s hand and giving it a squeeze. 

“Honestly?” Jordan gave a nervous laugh. “Not really? I think we just witnessed some kind of drug induced cannibalism!”

“Mom, what’s going on?” Fabian asked from the back. 

“I don’t know, Bumblebee,” (Y/N) answered honestly. She turned her body around as best as she could while buckled in. “But I do know what we’re going to do. Do you want to know?”

He nodded.

“We’re going to go back to the hotel. We’ll park close, so we can get in real easy,” she started. “Remember how you need a card to get into the back entrance?” 

Another nod.

“We’re going to park there. Just in case. We don’t know if it’s just here, but I hope it is,” (Y/N) gave another gentle squeeze on his hand. “Once we’re inside we’ll figure something out, alright?”

“Okay.” His voice was small, unsure, but he looked less ready to burst into tears and his breathing had calmed. “Can we call Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yeah, Bumblebee,” (Y/N) said. She tried to give a reassuring smile. “We’ll call them and we can tell them about how we met Tara Strong today. We don’t need to tell them anything else.”

Fifteen minutes in and they had finally made it to the front of the car line. There were people still running around, some covered in blood and others with torn clothes. One or two went stumbling past, but didn’t seem to pay any mind to the car waiting to take a right turn out of the garage. A few people, screaming and crying, had hit the car windows, begging to hitch a ride before they ran off, pulled by someone else or realizing their efforts were going to waste. (Y/N) felt terrible leaving them, not trying to help, but her son was priority and she didn’t know if they'd hurt her son, herself or Jordan just trying to get in the car. Knowing people and how far some would go for survival, she wouldn’t be surprised if they tried to take Fabian out of the car in general, not caring that he’s a kid at all.

She wouldn’t let that happen at all in the first place.

Eventually there was enough space between running people and slow moving cars that Jordan was able to pull onto the road and start the slow journey back to Addison and their hotel. The thirty minutes it had taken to get back the day before took three times as long. 

Police sirens were blasting and multiple ambulances drove past, towards the direction of the convention center and in others. It was calmer away from the busy streets around Starstruck Comic-Con, but they had to stop many times as emergency vehicles drove past. A few traffic lights had cut out, accidents of cars wrapped around light poles and a large overturned semi-truck had caused them to take detours and follow a traffic flagger through each turnaround. 

It was nearing one-fifteen when the trio got back to the hotel. A lone smoker was sitting on the rickety lawn chair under the canopy tent, and a family of five were getting in a Voyager minivan on the other side of the parking lot. As soon as they passed the thick of Dallas’ borders, things had calmed immensely. Jordan had loosened her tight grip on the steering wheel within minutes after the last sounds of sirens faded and the only thing they could hear were their own heartbeats and the lilt of Elvis Presley. The entire ride back, they hadn’t spoken a word outside of directions and words of reassurance.

They rushed back in, (Y/N) fumbling with the key card. She didn’t realize her hands were shaking that badly until they reached the door and she nearly dropped the card twice when it finally came out of her wallet. They were cautious all the way to their rooms. (Y/N) walked Jordan to her door, Fabian clinging to her arm as they walked two more doors down until they made it to their own room.

Inside, it felt like everything came crashing down. Fabian had continued to cling to his mother as she sat down on one of the beds, and he climbed into her lap. Despite almost reaching her shoulders, he tried to curl into her and be as small as possible and hide from the world, sniffling into the fabric of her overalls. 

“It’s okay, Bumblebee,” (Y/N) whispered automatically. She rubbed his back, trying to pull him closer as reality rushed at her like a linebacker. She felt her own tears (frustration? Confusion? Relief? It was hard to tell) roll down her cheeks and she could only imagine what Jordan was doing in the other room alone. “Do you want to call Grandma and Grandpa now? Or later?”

“Now,” came the muffled reply. 

With calmer hands, she took out her phone from her pocket, hitting the speed dial button and raised the phone to her ear. It rang only a few before it was picked up and she heard the familiar voice of her own mother on the other end.

“(Y/N)? Shouldn’t you be at the Con right now?”

“Um, we left a little early, momma,” (Y/N) said. She tried not to think about the reason why. “Weren’t feeling too great. I think the heat is finally getting to us. Fabian actually wanted to call you and dad, to feel better.”

“Oh we’d love to chat,” her mother gushed. “I hope he’s not getting heat stroke though. You’ll take him straight to the hospital if he does, you hear me? You remember the symptoms?”

“Yes momma, I will,” (Y/N) said, but her mother’s concern made the unknowing weight on her shoulders lift. “I’m handing you to Fabian now, momma. Love you.” Then she handed the cellphone to her son.

Immediately he latched onto it and started a quiet conversation with his grandparents, not once leaving his mother’s lap. Ignoring the one sided conversation, she leant to the side to grab onto the landline phone to call Jordan’s room to check in.

A quick conversation between them settled, as they tried to figure out the next plan of action while Fabian was distracted. They would spend the rest of the day in the hotel and eat in the dinner hall. Jordan would move all her stuff with them and spend the rest of the night together. She was too on edge to get any good sleep alone, and (Y/N)’s room already had two beds. Either Fabian would sleep alone and she and Jordan would share, or Fabian would sleep with her. 

They’d leave in the morning for the airport, to see if they could get on an earlier flight back home.

“... I love you too Grandma, Grandpa. I’ll see you later,” Fabian said, looking much better than he was earlier. Color had returned to his cheeks and despite the tear tracks on his cheeks, he already appeared livelier. “Here’s mom again.” Then he handed back the phone.

(Y/N) took the cell and put it back against her ear. “Are you guys alright in Atlanta?” she asked right away. 

“Of course, kiddo,” she heard her dad say. “We’re actually driving around right now. A few of the roads have been blocked. A lot of accidents today. We’ve been hearing sirens off and on all morning and afternoon.”

“I hope everyone’s okay,” she heard her mom comment.

“We’ve been hearing the same over here,” (Y/N) admitted. “Hopefully it’s not related.”

“I doubt it,” her dad offered. “We’re on our way back to the hotel. Oh shoot, another detour.”

“Dear, we’re fine on time.”

“I know, but it’s damn frustrating. It’s the fifth one in half a mile!”

“We’ll call you again to wish you goodnight in a few hours, (N/N),” her mother called out. “We love you and Fabian very much!”

“Love you kiddo!” her dad called out again.

“Love you too momma, dad,” (Y/N) said, and ended the call. It was too early for dinner to even start, but hopefully there was something to watch while Jordan starts moving her things over for the rest of the night.

Glancing down at Fabian, (Y/N) asked, “You up for some TV? Maybe we can find a movie?”

A small nod was all she got in return, but it was enough to reach for the remote, adjust herself and Fabian on the bed so they were laying down, and flip through the channels, looking for something they would both enjoy. 

Chapter Text

Chapter 3: On the Road Again (Day 4 and 5, Martial Law)

(Y/N) woke up to the sound of her phone ringing. At first she had thought it was the alarm, but after hitting the alarm clock and the sound was still going, she opened her eyes and looked for the source of the noise instead.

Untangling herself from her sheets and leaving the warmth of the bed, she shuffled over to the table where her cell was charging and vibrating around like crazy. Dad was flashing on the tiny screen and (Y/N) sleepily wondered what could possibly be happening at… seven-forty-five in the morning. 

She answered.

“Dad?”

“Hey kiddo,” her dad sighed. “Looks like we won’t be home as soon as we hoped.”

That woke her up faster than any cup of caffeine. 

“What?”

“Atlanta isn’t letting very many people leave right now. They have the airport shut down and all flights canceled. We can try extending our rental car and try driving home instead,” he explained. “Just wanted to call and give you a heads up before anything else.”

“O-Okay. You’ll let me know when you’re on your way back right?”

“Of course kiddo,” her dad said. “We’re on our way downstairs to get some breakfast and then we’re heading out as soon as we can. We’ll try to call but we might have to keep it to texting then.”

(Y/N) nodded to herself. “Of course, dad,” she said. “I’ll let you get to breakfast. Talk to you later?”

“Sure (Y/N). Love you.”

“Love you too, dad.”

Ending the call, she set her cell back on the table and shuffled back to her bed. Fabian had chosen to sleep with her in her bed last night, Jordan taking the other. It had been a little warm for her, despite the overworking A/C, with both him and his blanket covering them both, but eventually she was able to get herself to sleep. 

“Who was that?” Jordan asked from her side of the room, rolling over with sleep still clinging to her face. 

“Just my dad,” (Y/N) answered. “They were gonna fly back today but the airport canceled all flights. So they’re gonna figure out another way out of the city.”

Jordan hummed and closed her eyes again, falling back asleep. (Y/N) tried to do the same but ended up laying in bed for another two hours, dozing off and on for a bit before Fabian started to wake, kicking her in the stomach as he untangled himself to go to the bathroom. She rolled over in bed and stared up at the ceiling, wondering what was going to be in store for them today.

(Y/N) toyed with the idea of going down for breakfast again, but the idea of being around so many people in lieu of what happened yesterday didn’t appeal to her. They were antsy at dinner, every cough or jerky movement startled them into thinking that someone was going to be or was already being attacked. 

Instead she got out one of the muffins from the minifridge they had packed for their trip and began to let it warm up a bit before digging in, cutting it in half and giving the other to Fabian who gladly dug in. 

“Are you all ready to leave today?” (Y/N) asked him once he was done eating. “Got everything of yours packed? We won’t be able to come back for it if you leave it here.”

Fabian nodded. “I double checked after I got dressed! I just need to put Funshine Bear and the blanket back in and I should have everything.”

(Y/N) nodded and wiped her own mouth before throwing her trash away. She began to go around the room, checking under beds and in the bathroom tub to make sure everything was indeed back where it was. Jordan went back to her room to double check before she left the keycard in the room and doubled back to the (L/N)s, where she sat on the bed and channel surfed while they psyched themselves back up to go back on the road.

“ In other news ,” an anchor said, “ the eleven states have declared a state of emergency after the presidential press conference yesterday morning discussing the Wildfire virus outbreak across state lines. The Federal Aviation Administration has also responded by grounding all flights in an effort to contain the virus from spreading further. Officials in numerous cities, including Atlanta, Georgia, Dallas, Texas and Seattle Washington have enforced curfews on its residence and some have even declared Martial Law. ” 

A map of the United States popped up on screen, red dots tagging various cities as she talked. Jordan frowned.

“Well, there goes our flight plans…” she groaned. “I don’t think we can get a cheap last minute train ticket back home either.”

(Y/N) pursed her lips as she listened to the report as well. 

“ President Barack Obama has also signed an executive order declaring a nationwide state of emergency. In light of this recent development, California’s own Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger has passed an executive order that extends across several states. In it, it mentions the extent of the Wildfire outbreak as well as the effects. We’ll have further coverage of this declaration at ten o’clock. ” Then the news cut out to a commercial. 

“Damn, even Schwarzenegger sees how serious this is…” (Y/N) couldn’t help but comment. “All I can see of him right now is Dutch from Predator .”

“I still haven’t seen that movie,” Jordan muttered.

“Really? It came out when you were eight! You’ve had plenty of time to see it. I’ve seen it and I’m terrible at watching new films anymore.”

“I’m worse at it, I guess,” was all she said, shrugging.

(Y/N) fell back against the bed, jostling Fabian who automatically fell sideways to rest his head on her stomach. He didn’t look up once from his game.

She sighed. 

“Well, I guess we do have time to figure something else now on how to get out of here and back home. I’m vetoing taking the train. That has more people than a plane and takes twice as long.”

“So car it is, unless suddenly we can take a boat across land.”

“Guess we are extending our rental car plans.”

***

They stayed at the hotel for one more night. There were more noises during the night then others previous. It was hard for both (Y/N) and Jordan to sleep, so they spent most of the night whispering a plan to each other to cover up the previous plans they were trying to keep in place. 

Car broke down? Find a gas station nearby and see if it can be towed.

Gas station also have those crazy sick people? Turn tail and run back. 

No food or water? Find some. Can’t? Make some.

Run out of battery on their cells? Find a car charger and charge it while driving.

Both women agreed that they’d need to find some place to get more snacks and beverages for the drive back to (STATE), as well as a road map. Neither women could afford the fancy new iPhone 4 that people were waving around these days (they still can’t get the iPhone 3, which had gone down in price after the 4’s release) so their slider keyboard phones could only do so much in the car. 

They were both able to pass out around two in the morning, when a majority of the noise had finally settled and they were too exhausted to care about it anymore. 

(Y/N) woke up again around nine the next day, a headache beginning to form just at the corner of her brain (which somehow makes sense) and her tongue feeling heavy and dry, throat aching but not because of sickness. Jordan still looked exhausted as she continued to snore away in the next bed, while Fabian had taken all the blanket for himself, his face squished as close as possible to Funshine Bear. 

Quietly getting out of bed, (Y/N) went to her phone to see if any messages were left during the night. She had put it in Do Not Disturb mode around eleven the night before, not wanting to be disturbed or disturb anyone else with the loud noise for the second morning in a row. 

With no messages to read, she quickly put all their stuff together near the door and began to get ready for a long drive ahead of them. Jordan soon joined her in the bathroom to brush her teeth after a few minutes, having woken up when (Y/N) accidentally dropped Fabian’s backpack on her foot and cursed as silently as possible as she dealt with the pain that came soon after. 

It was easier today to wake Fabian up, not a lot of fussing, and with the TV playing Teen Titans, got ready himself. By ten-fifteen they were all packed and ready to head downstairs.

It was quiet on their way down. (Y/N) didn’t miss the many overturned dining trays in the hallway and wondered who let their kids run rampant through the halls to create such a mess. Jam had been splattered on the base of the walls and there was enough silverware being kicked around by the doors that made it sound like they were making their own rendition of Jingle Bells in late August. 

The receptionist looked exceptionally tired when they made it with all their bags to finish the check out process.

“Long night?” (Y/N) asked after giving the woman her card information. 

“A lot of calls came through last night about noise complaints,” she said, sounding not at all pleased despite the smile plastered on her face. “We’re terribly sorry if you heard any last night. There seemed to be a few rowdy guests who weren’t in the right headspace.”

“Oh no, I hope everyone was okay,” Jordan said.

“A few were hurt but paramedics were called and helped any that needed it,” the receptionist replied. Her eyes widened a fraction. “Please don’t tell my boss I said that, I shouldn’t be telling anyone. That was completely unprofessional of me!”

“No worries,” (Y/N) placated. “You look tired. It’s hard to keep anything in line when you’ve had a busy night.”

Another tight smile was given, but other than a polite customer approved farewell, nothing else was said.

The parking lot looked just about the same as it did when they parked the day before last. Maybe a few new pieces of garbage littered around the place here or there, and the smoking tent had a few more butts squished on the ground and in the provided ashtray, but nothing out of the ordinary stood out. 

“Ready to get that map and out of town?” (Y/N) asked Jordan.

“Oh god yes,” Jordan groaned. “Ugh, I still have to call that sponsor about the delay in the video and the reason why. Do you mind driving a bit today?”

“Nah, it’s fine. Keys?”

“Right here, best bud.”

“Ew, never call me that again.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 4: War. War Never Changes (Days 5-17, Operation Cobalt)

It had been eleven days on the road and (Y/N) was getting sick and tired of seeing the same burnt yellow in every field on this goddamn stretch of road. They would’ve made it home by now, back home where her parents should be right now and not in god forsaken Atlanta, Georgia, where they were now heading. Each time they followed the main road, they were blocked off within miles of the next major city. A few times they were allowed to pass through an encampment with military officials and workers wearing volunteer shirts walking around, fear and unease written clearly on their faces.

By the third day on the road, finally on the right track, (Y/N) and Jordan both had alerts going off on their phones, stating that all large cities were being closed off to quarantine the citizens and stave off further infection from spreading. A few times on the road they saw a crashed vehicle with no one inside. (Y/N) tried to ignore the brown stains that streaked across the sides of the crushed metal, of missing bodies despite the numerous luggage still in the backseats or trunks. Once, while she was driving and Fabian was napping in the back, Jordan saw someone walking in the fields. They had slowed to a crawl, both women watching to see if it was someone needing help… or something else. It didn’t take long to figure out which one it was.

Day four on the road caused them to get turned around and by then, (Y/N) hadn’t heard from her parents in a day. No texts, no calls and nothing from emergency contacts. Worried, she had asked Jordan if they could head to Atlanta real quick to check in, see if they could pick them up in case getting out without escort due to their age was the problem. Her friend saw no issue, neither needing to be back right away (School didn’t start for another week for (Y/N) and she had already put her classroom together before the con, and Jordan’s schedule was already sporadic due to videos), and so they headed back south to Georgia.

Going the other way was an even bigger challenge. Taking different roads that led to empty cars blocking the road for miles caused them to turn back and take another road or attempt to move the abandoned cars themselves if the amount of cars were small in number. This time they avoided the main highways, and went around larger cities instead of trying to go through them. They had to stop for a night to purchase more supplies from a nearly empty Walmart, grabbing a few comics for Fabian to read and a coloring book with superheroes on it to entertain him if they couldn’t find a place to charge his DS. (Y/N) made sure to grab two more packages of pads, knowing as they neared the beginning of the month she’d be needing them more than ever. Tampons too, just in case she moved around more than she had been the last few days, but she didn’t want to worry about TSS if she was sitting in the car for hours on end.

The radio had stopped playing music around the eighth day on the road, and the AM side of things were mainly any religious group with a radio mic or emergency broadcast channels. They didn’t think to bring any CDs and there were only a few choices left at Walmart. So they sighed, grabbed a few of the Kidz Bop CDs still left on the rack ((Y/N) was thankful that the ones for 80s and 90s were at least bangers) and the one remaining oldies mix CD with the hits of the 50s before going to check out. Jordan was sad no books on tape were left, and the only books left for adults were cheesy bodice rippers. She wasn’t that desperate yet.

They had finally started approaching the borders of Georgia by the end of the tenth day on the road. Getting through Tennessee was surprisingly tough. The state may have been skinny on paper, but the roadblocks and detours had been just as ridiculous as the ones in Texas getting out. 

They decided to spend the night a little outside Dalton, just on the side of the road of Interstate 76 before continuing their journey to Atlanta in the morning.

“I’m sorry we couldn’t call your brother before the phones stopped working,” (Y/N) whispered. The three of them had squished into the back of the Subaru Outback, the back seat folded down so they had enough room to stretch out a bit. Their stuff they shoved to the front seat or beneath the front console or at the base of the back as much as they could with the limited space they already had when they thought they were leaving the convention center. 

They were able to switch out a suitcase halfway through their journey with something smaller, still managing to fit everything inside since they didn’t buy much before leaving anyway. Anything they needed (like extra clothes to fit the warmer weather despite it leading into September) they made sure to keep at the top of their luggage and the extras, like cosplays or dress shoes, were kept at the bottom as they weren’t needed. 

Right now both Jordan and (Y/N) were thankful to have gotten the new clothes when they did. It was sweltering and the cotton of their shirts clung to their bodies like a second skin. They were glad to forgo their bras in this weather. They were sweating underneath enough, they didn’t need to add to it. Fabian cradled the well worn carebear between them, wearing a pair of shorts they managed to find that fit him well enough to sleep in.

They could tell he was beginning to get antsy by being in the car so long with only two adults to talk to. They were hoping as soon as they got Grandma and Grandpa out of Atlanta it would perk him back up on their second return trip home. 

“It’s fine,” Jordan whispered back. The phones had stopped working sometime on the fifth day on the road. They weren’t sure why, as they were sure the cell towers were still intact and the satellites were working just fine as well. But no call could connect and not even calling emergency services were working when they got as close as they could to bigger cities. “I don’t think he would’ve picked up anyways.”

“He could’ve, you never know,” (Y/N) responded.

“With how I left things? Nah,” she snorted, grimacing at the thought. “Hadn’t even spoken to him in four years anyways. He probably doesn’t even care.”

(Y/N) wanted to deny it but knew it was a losing battle. It wasn’t the first time since they started driving that she brought the topic up. 

Taking a deep breath she rolled over to lay on her back as best as she could, legs spread to cool off the inside of her thighs that had gotten uncomfortably warm while she was on her side. “Well, as soon as we head back we’ll find him and see.”

She was given a noncommittal grunt. 

“How are we on gas, by the way?”

“Could probably stop by a station in the morning,” Jordan said, sounding relieved at the topic change. “We were at a quarter tank when we pulled over. Got maybe a good seventy-five or so miles before we hit empty anyways. Didn’t think a Subaru got good milage on the highway.”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, me neither. I’m so used to my tiny Kia that seeing how well this thing’s been doing since we’ve had it… It’s honestly a surprise.”

“Shame the music sucks.”

“Did you want me to grab Conway Twitty? Cause I could have and we’d both be tortured even more than we already have.”

Jordan laughed, more genuine then it had been in a few days. “You really hate that guy, don’t you?”
“It was fine when they did the joke on Family Guy the first time. The second time was overkill.”

***

In the morning, they woke up when the sun was already pretty high in the sky. Their watches said it was closer to noon than morning, but none of them worried too much on time. It was (Y/N)’s turn to drive that morning while Jordan navigated them through Dalton and the easiest way to Atlanta. There happened to be another encampment, one that merely had soldiers watching them as they took backgrounds past the main streets in the city, before they got back on Interstate 75 and headed towards Marietta.

That’s when trouble began.

Marietta was desolate and barricaded on every offramp they came across. At one point there was a pile up that prevented them from going any further and they had to turn around. Luckily a gas station with a working pump was nearby, where they filled up with as much that was left (a little more than half a tank) before hopping back on and finding the nearest off ramp that would let them off.

Going around wasn’t the easiest either. When they thought they could go around Rome, they had to head back south to Marietta once more and take a sketchy looking dirt path that led them to a road that would take them to Piedmont, Alabama. They took many backroads that got them back on track, going towards East Point, in which once more they had to go past Peachtree City where they finally got back to the main interstate there that led straight to Atlanta. By then, the sun was beginning to set and it would be too dark to get anywhere close to the city. (Y/N) was too tired to drive and Jordan was too tired to even try driving at night. 

So they pulled over just as they reached Interstate 75 once more, this time on the south end of Atlanta and went to sleep. 

They woke to loud sounds in the distance. Sounds that were too big to be fireworks but they couldn’t be sure what else it would be. They risked turning on the car to listen to the AM military broadcast, to see if maybe it was being reported there, but the same message ( “...it is imperative that all residents seek immediate shelter in designated locations. For your safety: remain calm and collected, gather…” ) they’ve been hearing for the past 7 days was the only thing on.

They weren’t able to sleep well that night until the last of the echoes had stopped ringing through the air. 

***

In the morning, exhausted but otherwise well enough to drive, they set off to Atlanta. (Y/N) had a good feeling that the drive would be continuous with very few interruptions, and hoped that they found a good place to stop to at least brush their teeth, even if it didn’t have any water to rinse. It would be even better if they could at least take time to clean up even more. They hadn’t showered in about two or three days, and deodorant and perfume can only do so much against the natural odor of sweat. 

They only had to turn around once, reaching a blockade on an offramp that would’ve led directly into the city, despite the path looking fairly clear beyond it. Instead of trying to move the heavy cinder blocks, they went back to the one that came before. A few roads down they went on a freeway heading north until they hit a mostly unobstructed freeway that, in either direction, headed to Atlanta. They went east, knowing that East point was already a dud (which funnily enough was west from them) and went around until they reached the last open off ramp. They had finally gotten to a road that seemed clear of most cars by the time they reached the northeast side of the circular road and ended up on Interstate 85. The road they got off on from there was mostly clear on the side leading into the capital city. The other side, however, was not as hopeful. Cars leaving the city were numerous and abandoned, and it left the trio somber in the car for the next mile.

It was there, now that they were getting closer, that they saw what had made the sounds the night before.

Smoke was billowing up from the city. A wall, made of a mix of concrete barricades and fence with barbed wire at the top. The gate was closed and anything near it seemed melted or burnt to the point of a single touch would disintegrate whatever was left.

“Holy shit, they bombed Atlanta,” Jordan gasped.

“Is Grandma and Grandpa okay?!” Fabian cried out in the back.

“I…” (Y/N) was totally lost. “I… I don’t know. I…”

Jordan took pity on the mother and turned towards Fabian, who was already in tears

at the state of where the last of their family should be. “They might be, we don’t know, B. We can always go in but it might not be safe, especially if there are fires right now.”

“What are we going to do now?” he asked.

(Y/N) took a deep breath, trying to stave off the tears that were threatening to pour out. She had to be strong, Just for a little bit longer. Looking around she noticed a small path, big enough for a car, on the side of the road. It looked almost like a path leading to a campsite, and it was recently driven on too. Not wanting to double back again, she took another deep breath in, held it, and took the risk as she let it out.

“Bumblebee, remember that time Uncle Jerod tried showing us that camping was fun?” she asked, turning herself around to face her son.

“The one where we went the wrong way and got lost until we found the road again?”

“Yeah, that one.”

He frowned, brow furrowing. “What of it?” he asked, fiddling with the Omnitrix, dug out the day before for something to do on the last leg of the drive from the smaller suitcase.

“Well, we went on that dirt road, right? And we did find a campsite, even if it wasn’t an official one by the park service. We have a road just like that to our right. We can go that way, and see if there’s nice people there who can help us figure out what’s going on. Or we can turn around and go back and try again tomorrow.” (Y/N) didn’t like any of those choices herself, but at this point, she’d rather take camping with a bunch of strangers to heading towards the next nearest possible FEMA camp site (which would be Gainesville most likely. She had a teacher who’s name was Gaines back in 5th grade. She was nice enough in the small moments they switched for art, but from what she heard she ruled her classroom with an ironfist. She didn’t want to find out if the possible camp there had similar rules). 

“Is it really safe to do option one, (Y/N)?” Jordan whispered, low enough that Fabian couldn't hear well enough while he thought.

“It’s that or Gainesville. That’s an hour's drive, minimum.”

“Fuck that.”

“I want to go to the campsite,” Fabian finally answered. “Maybe it’ll be fun this time without Uncle Jerod.’

“Alright, Bumblebee, let’s go find out.”

Backing up a bit, (Y/N) cranked the wheel hard to the right so they could make it onto the path. Driving it wasn’t too hard with this car. She was sure if she had her tiny car back home, it would’ve found the only ditch within seconds and they’d never be able to get a tow truck to tow it out.

Ten minutes in, they slowed down as they came across a clearing. Clearly they made enough noise to garner attention, though it would’ve been hard to hide the crunch of rocks no matter how slow they went, but it was a relief for all passengers to see an RV with normal looking people (or normal looking enough. None looked haggard, covered in blood, maybe some dirt, but they had children running around, even if they were going to hide behind the adults). 

They stopped within a reasonable distance from the now forming group. And with a quick glance at each other, the women got out of the car, Fabian scrambling quickly behind them to join his mother at her side.

Chapter Text

Chapter 5: Setting Up Camp (Day 17)

A man stepped before the rest of the other group. He had an air of authority about him, standing with his legs apart, feet firm and grounded. He wore a gray T-shirt tucked into a pair of dark work pants. With the dust swirling about in the hot Georgian heat, it was hard for (Y/N) to tell if they used to be black or dark gray. Despite all this, he had a stern expression of a man who has seen more things in his lifetime than anyone else had in the last two weeks.

“Hey there folks.” 

He spoke first. He raised a hand in greeting, close to his chest, but left the other close to his waist, his belt specifically, while slapping on a customer service bullshit smile. One (Y/N) was used to plastering on at the end of a very hard day in the classroom while in front of parents.

“Hello,” Jordan greeted, stepping forwards herself. Today the women were wearing similar outfits from the night before, only changing their sweaty and, honestly, disgusting smelling T-shirts and replacing them with what was left of their clean laundry from the convention. They had luckily gotten a shirt each at a booth there, planning on not wearing it until after they got home and washed the chemical smell off the laminated print. Of course, that never happened, and while Fabian didn’t seem to mind, neither of the women could hold back a wrinkle as they got a strong whiff of plastic going up their nose. “We’re just hoping to have a place to stay for a bit. You see, we were originally planning to go to Atlanta but there seems to be something else going on there than we originally thought.”

“Same with all of us,” the man concurred. “We just got here this morning, hadn’t really done much else but set aside tents and grouping families together. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

And that was that. 

It was easier than (Y/N) thought that was going to go. With how the man, now introducing himself as Deputy Shane Walsh, stood, a part of her expected something more. He seemed like a man of action rather than a man of words. While he walked the trio around and introduced them to the others in the slowly growing group of Atlanta-goers, it seemed more like he was out of practice being the one who called the shots with such a large group. Though considering his job title, (Y/N) surmised that he probably was used to always being second in someone’s point of view.

They met Carol and Sophia Peltier, a mother and daughter who stuck to each other like they had always been glued together from the beginning of time, and Carol’s rather foul talking husband, Ed. When they walked away to be introduced to another small group of campers, (Y/N) made sure Fabian was stuck to her side almost as close as Carol was to her own child. He didn’t seem to mind, not at all interested in the family.

They passed by another woman, who had her child nearby but not as close. Shane introduced them as Lori and Carl Grimes, who he had traveled with after the first of the sick people began attacking each other and the government started pushing people to shelter in place or in cities nearby. They had been going to Atlanta merely for convenience, but also because Lori’s own parents were in the city so it meant a temporary place to stay while this whole thing blew over. Fabian perked up at seeing Carl, and began asking the other boy quiet questions while Lori continued to talk to the other women.

“Wow, all the way from (STATE)?” she gasped. “What made you come all the way out here? Surely there would’ve been other safe spaces on the way.”

“We were actually coming from Dallas. We were on vacation, attending a convention in the area when things started to get too rough for us,” (Y/N) explained. “My parents, actually, were in Atlanta. We had turned our car around after we lost cell phone contact with them and I knew they were having trouble leaving as it was.”

Lori pulled a face, one (Y/N) wasn’t sure she liked, but said, “I hope they’re okay. We saw some military moving into the city this morning after all the bombing stopped. We’re staying here, just to keep out of the way mainly, but also to be nearby when they start evacuating everyone to a safer place.”

“Is that what the smoke is from?”

“We saw it last night. Lucky we weren’t anywhere closer or else we could’ve been a part of all that devastation we saw.”

A tug at her shirt snapped (Y/N) out of the conversation. 

“Mom! Carl says he has some comics, ones I haven’t read yet,” Fabian said. “Can I go read it with him?”

“Maybe in a little bit, Bumblebee,” (Y/N) answered. “We still have some people to meet and find a good spot for us too. I’ll be needing your help with that part. Can’t have Auntie Jordan choosing our sleeping spot. You and I both know it’ll take her ages.”

The serious look on Fabian’s face nearly took her out, but she managed to keep the snort of laughter, especially when he agreed, in quite the same serious tone one would when addressing their inferior, that Jordan would indeed “take too long to find a good place to sleep. So of course I should help.”

Dale, Andrew and Amy, the last two sisters but not at all related to the older gentleman, gave them a quick greeting as Shane walked them over. Dale happened to be nearby when the two blonde women were in need of transport, and had helped them get out of their tricky situation with his handy RV.

“And to think I was gonna have an easy time this semester,” Amy joked.

The rest of the introductions seemed to go faster once they finally got moving past the RV. They met Morales and his wife, Miranda, as well as their two children Eliza and Louis, who were both a few years younger than Fabian but looked excited to see another playmate. A man was helping another with setting up a tent, the skinnier of the two being introduced as Jim who seemed like he wanted to be anywhere else than here, and the other called himself T-Dog and was plenty friendly for the both of them. Jacqui had appeared out of the RV, a quick hello said in their direction as she had been inside cataloging something for Dale and Shane. 

Trailing behind Jacqui was another man, much younger than many of the other adults around, wearing a well-worn baseball cap and a short sleeved jersey covering. He stopped long enough to say an awkward “Hi, I’m Glenn, it’s nice to meet you,” before Jacqui called his name and he dipped out of their way.

“Then we have our more recent members, who showed up a bit before you three did,” Shane said. They had finally made it full circle, where the last of the Atlanta group had shown up from their hiding spots.

Two men, one obviously older than the other but definitely related, were now lounging around an old fire pit. The elder of the two gave (Y/N) some pause. He looked almost exactly like an uncle of hers, or rather, a combination of all her uncles merged into one. It was almost eerie that way, that she almost thought they had come back from the dead and decided to hang out in the one place they probably would’ve been accepted if they decided to not have any morals. He had closely shaven hair (or hair so thin that it wasn’t even trying to grow anymore) as well as cold blue eyes. He was much larger, more muscles packed on his shoulders, and despite looking like he could clock you in a one-two punch, his beer belly had Bill Dauterive coming in second for that contest.

The other man, the younger of the two, looked to have inherited the skill pack of leaner muscles and better hair. It was still rather short but you could tell what color it was supposed to be, a sandy brown, almost a dirty blond. His eyes, also blue, looked less like they were mocking your every move, more as if they were tracking your every step and waiting. Just waiting. Despite not having as many wrinkles around the eyes and forehead like his companion (his brother? Too young to be his father. Maybe a cousin?) he still looked older than (Y/N) and Jordan themselves by three or four years.

Shane introduced them as Merle and Daryl Dixon, brothers which is all they knew past whatever ramblings spewed from Merle’s mouth that wasn’t taking a pass at an uninterested woman.

“We have a few open spots that are out of the way but still close to the rest of camp,” Shane said, ending the tour. “We got a spot next to the Peltiers tent and another where the Dixon’s have decided to hole up. We can also squeeze y'all in between a few other families, but we don’t want anyone going too far in case they get lost in the woods.”

(Y/N) and Jordan shared a quick look, conveying their thoughts easily enough without having to speak a word. “Thanks, but we don’t really have any camping gear on us,” Jordan said. “We can always just stay in our car at night.”

Shane frowned. “You sure? I’m positive someone around here has an extra tent laying around.”

“We don’t really want to intrude further than we already have,” Jordan assured. “I’m sure they’ll need that tent more than we would.”

Shane looked ready to argue but Carl came around the corner of the RV, calling his name. Attention stolen (successfully), he said, “If you change your minds, I’ll have Lori go ask some of the other ladies if they have anything to spare, just for a few nights before we can get something a little more permanent for the three of you. I’m sure it’s not comfortable laying in a car for long.”

He was off before either woman could utter another phrase.

“Guy is weird as fuck,” (Y/N) couldn’t help but mutter. 

Jordan nodded.

“Must be different being a deputy of a southern state,” Jordan added. “Hopefully whatever’s going on in Atlanta is done soon.”

(Y/N) frowned, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear as a warm gust of wind passed through the quarry. “Did you notice that everyone hasn’t really been talking about what happened in Atlanta? Like, we got some from Lori but even she seemed tight-lipped about everything.”

“They saw it get bombed yesterday, they’re probably traumatized. We haven’t talked about what we saw on the way here…”

“We saw the same thing. I feel like we don’t need to talk about it.”

They started walking back to their car, planning to move it out of the way of the main entrance of their little campsite and somewhere closer, now that the huzzah of their arrival had died down over the last half hour. There was another car nearby, a truck with a motorcycle hanging out in the truck bed, and (Y/N) suggested that they park it there for the night and they’ll think about what to do next in the morning.

“Dude, I don’t know if you remember, but I peed in a completely different bathroom then you back when we went through Arkansas to go around that weird military blockade into Louisiana,” Jordan said, once they got to the car. “I think we got super lucky that we haven’t seen anything as bad as we did in Dallas.”

“I don’t pee in Walmart unless it’s absolutely dire,” (Y/N) stated. “But I guess you’re right. We managed to luck out by avoiding big cities until now. I just wish we knew when this whole thing would blow over so we can get the hell out of dodge and get back to normal life. I’m getting to the point that I actually miss Jack Dahlman? Kid was a nightmare but I’d take dealing with a tantrum from him than seeing whatever we saw on the way out of Texas.”

***

Night had come quickly that day. Summer was still in high spirits but it seemed time went by at a different pace in the quarry than it did anywhere else. 

(Y/n), Fabian and Jordan were invited to sit with the group once it was dark out and dinner was being served. In the short time after re-parking their car, the two women and Fabian had gone back around to see what they should be doing. It felt wrong to just sit in the car and not do anything, as much as being a loner sounded great. Fabian was let off to go mingle with the other children, the dark haired boy gluing himself to Carl’s side as he played alongside Sophia and the Morales children. Jordan and (Y/N) were urged to take it easy, but they insisted on helping, leading them to learning how to wash the laundry in the quarry from Carol (who was taking her own family’s laundry down anyway and took pity on the younger women who looked lost in their own right). Apparently Dale had some soap bars in the RV that he leant out and now there was a line up of other families who were wanting a turn to clean their own clothes for the next day. It surprised (Y/N) how fast they were able to build a community schedule, and wondered how long they had actually been in the quarry.

“Only a night,” Carol said softly, catching the look on her face after (Y/N) voiced her thoughts aloud. “But some of us had a hard time sleeping last night, so many of us were up early.”

Now they were sitting between the Peltiers and the Grimes plus Shane at one of the two campfires. The light was low but bright enough that they were still able to see each other and their mismatched bowls. It looked like it was canned soup for the night, something with a mismatch of soggy vegetables and chicken broth.

Taking the first bite of slightly cold broth, (Y/N) suddenly felt tired. A wave of pure exhaustion settled into her bones and she realized that tonight would be the first night where it wasn’t just the three of them sleeping and hoping that in the morning they wouldn’t see something weird or horrific peering in at them through the window. Sure, they were still surrounded by strangers, some of them meaner looking than the others, but they were at least people , something that (Y/N) kept reminding herself and feeling happier each time it was said. 

Jordan had been right that they hadn’t really talked about the horrors that they saw on the road, and a big part of her didn’t really want to bring it up. She remembers, one time while she was the one driving and her friend and son were taking a nap in the back, they drove past a burning mass just outside a small hospital in a no-name town that was in the middle of Who-The-Fuck-Knows, USA. The road leading up had boarded up buildings, broken glass and long burnt out fires. But the still smoking pile, with flames that were only just beginning to die down, still held the charred shape of human bodies.

It was safe to say (Y/N) did her best to find the fastest way out from that town before her son even saw a glimpse of it within his dreams.

She didn’t pay attention to the stories being passed around their fire. Her attention was grabbed when a bout of laughter erupted from more than one person but her ears had turned off as soon as her stomach was half full.

“I’m gonna head off to bed,” she whispered to Jordan, who looked more awake than (Y/N) felt. “You staying?”

“Yeah, for a little bit longer.”

Nodding, she turned to her son. “Bumblebee, I’m gonna go to bed. Do you want to come with or stay with Aunt Jordan?”

Fabian faked a yawn before standing. “I’m tired too,” he said, grabbing his mother’s hand. They said a quiet goodnight to Carol and Jordan, as well as Lori once her attention drifted from gazing at Shane’s face in the firelight, and walked back to their car. It was still unlocked, not that it would have mattered since (Y/N) still had the keys, but they climbed into the hatchback and closed it behind them.

Fabian immediately curled into his mother’s side once she laid down, not even pretending to be tired anymore.

“You just wanted to lay down without Aunt Jordan taking up all your space, huh?” (Y/N) joked. She began running her fingers through his hair. Fabian wasted no time loudly and fervently denying his mother’s statement, though quieted down when he heard her quiet chuckle in the air. 

“Are we going to stay here now?” he asked. His voice was now quiet. 

“For now,” (Y/N) stated honestly. “I’m not sure if we’ll be here forever, but we’ll stay as long as we need to. We still need to know what happened in Atlanta, figure out if Grandpa and Grandma are still in there. And we might as well treat this as another vacation, just for a little while longer.”

“Good,” Fabian murmured, relaxing further into his mother’s embrace. “I liked playing with Carl today. And Sophia, even if she is a girl. Did you know she likes My Little Pony?”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. And Firefly is her favorite, which is so lame cause that’s everyone’s favorite. Applejack is so much better.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 6: And So Life Goes On (Day 23+)

It took a surprising amount of time for Merle Dixon to lay his eyes on them. (Y/N) was aware of his type, lived with men like Merle in her family, and was lucky enough to only hear the stories of their pursuits and actions rather than see them for herself. Lucky enough to see their good sides and very little of their bad sides, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t naive enough to look at Merle and expect angel wings and heavenly light. She expected him to come sniffing around after the first day, looking for a quick fix, something lasting no longer than three minutes, and then hightail it until the next time he needed to get off.

About a week into their stay in the quarry with the others, (Y/N) and Jordan were loaned a tent from Dale. 

“Found it lying around in the very back,” he had said, though it looked surprisingly new and had shown up merely hours after Glenn, who had just gotten back after another quick supply run into the city. “Figured you three would be tired being cramped up in that Subaru y'all have.”

They were setting it up when Merle himself came sauntering up, covered in a sheen of sweat that was no doubt due to the heat and rather than hard work. (Y/N) knew for a fact that he only worked hard at getting his dick wet (if all the small talk from the other women around camp were to be believed) and hunting with his brother, who (Y/N) didn’t deny was definitely someone she enjoyed looking at whenever he decided to hang around camp. 

“Ladies,” he drawled, stopping only a foot away. “Looks like y’all might need some help there, getting that put together.” The smirk on his face was quite telling.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said, but she didn’t stop looking at the instruction sheet. She had been standing and trying to instruct her friend on what they should be doing, as Jordan had left her glasses somewhere and neither woman could find it. “But no thanks. I’ll keep you in mind though, next time we need someone to give us terrible pick up lines.”

If he was insulted, he didn’t show it. Instead he laughed, booming and scratchy. Jordan looked up, startled at the sound but didn’t stop trying to struggle with the pieces she had in her hands. 

Merle set his hands on his hips. “That sure is hilarious,” he said. “But I guess jokes are all you got, huh, sweetcheeks.”

“I got neither sweets nor cheeks,” (Y/N) said blandly. “Those all ran out way before you came.”

“Aw, sugar,” he rumbled, leaning down and getting close to the (H/C) haired woman. “I’m sure I could find something sweet about ya.”

“As could many others. I’m sure if you’d look you’d see there’s a line.”

“Think you’re too good for Ol’ Merle, huh?” His flirtatious tone didn’t shift but there was a sharpness behind his eyes. 

(Y/N) shook her head. “Just not interested fucking a man who has the same personality as one of my uncles or cousins. I may be in Georgia, but I’m not gonna do as the Romans.”

That seemed to send a genuine shock of laughter through the older man. Merle had leant forwards and clapped a large sweaty hand onto her shoulder, clapping it and nearly sending (Y/N) tumbling to the ground. 

“That’s a damn shame,” he chuckled, but didn’t press any further. “You’re funny, girl, that’s for sure. You and your kid. He must’ve gotten it all from you instead of his daddy.”

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow, jutting out a hip and placing a hand on it, getting into sass position number three. “And when did you ever talk to Fabian?” He had been attached to her hip or Carl’s for the last week, and she didn’t let him leave her sight for longer than a quick bathroom break the entire time either. Not once did she recall him, nor his stupidly attractive brother, go anywhere near her kid. 

Merle shrugged, his smirk still on his face, hands now resting in his pockets. “Not hard to listen to others in this place, sugar. Place echoes and that kid’s pretty loud.” 

“Kid gets it from her,” Jordan piped in. “She’s loud, he’s loud, it’s like a goddamn arena in the house with them.”

Merle laughed at that. 

“And where’s his daddy in all this?” he asked again. Then he waggled his eyebrows. “Or are you his ‘daddy’? Y’all two scissorin’ it whenever he’s out?”

(Y/N) and Jordan couldn’t help but pull a face at that. “Bruh, ew,” (Y/N) said, while Jordan pretended to puke on the ground. The thought of being intimate with her sister from another mister also made her want to puke. 

“There isn’t a ‘daddy’,” (Y/N) stated flatly.

“Y’all looking?”

“In this era? Fuck that. I gave up on finding someone reliable almost a decade ago.”

“I ain’t reliable, but I know I can give ya a good time.”

“Sure, and so can this.” (Y/N) held up her middle finger. Again, Merle wasn’t phased.

“Ya sure have everything all figured out then,” he said. “I’ll leave y’all be this time, but if ya ever change your mind, ya know where my tent is. Just give me time to kick lil’ Daryl out and then I can give y’all the time of your life.”

Then the older man was off, sauntering about to who knows where in the quarry. 

“That was pretty weird,” Jordan said. They were finishing the last few steps on their tent, two hands needed on deck. “Pretty sure I caught Shane glancing over here a few times. Looked like he wanted to storm over and act like the cop he is.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Officer Shane was overly paranoid about everything. It seemed pretty normal, on the front, but it felt off. (Y/N) was pretty paranoid herself, even before whatever-this-was began, but sometimes it felt like Shane was acting like he was sneaking around when he shouldn’t.

 “I’m just glad that went better than I assumed it would. Guys like Merle are wildcards. You never know what’ll get them to blow up and what’ll get them to cool down.” Glancing over in the direction he went, she continued, “Seemed too chill, honestly. Five bucks says he was mostly high during that entire conversation.”

“Five bucks says you don’t have five bucks on you.”

“Ten bucks says I do.”

“Fifteen says that you wouldn’t mind if Daryl was one of those ‘wildcards’ and became Fabian’s ‘daddy’.” She put in an eyebrow wiggle.

“Hundred says I can shove a boot down your throat to shut you up!”

Finally getting the tent to stay up, the women put some of their things into the tent, designating which side they’d get, agreeing to keep Fabian in between them. They unzipped the one sleeping bag they managed to grab and spread it out to cover the base of the tent, then dumped the two blankets they had on them on their respective sides. A pillow, one for each person, was left on top and everything else they had was left in the car. 

With everything done, the two women couldn’t help but relax in the silence of their new sanctuary. The car was nice, kept them safe from a majority of sound and weather, but it was cramped and smelled pretty bad now. It no longer held the nice Rental Car smell. The sound of crickets and birds and even the quiet murmur of voices felt like a new form of relaxation that it almost tricked them into thinking that they were indeed just camping with a bunch of new friends. 

“I don’t think they made it out,” (Y/N) whispered. She was laying down on her side, her blanket balled up in her arms as she looked at the army green wall of the tent. She was glad that Fabian was having fun with his new friends and trusting Amy, Carol and Andrea in babysitting the other kids.

Jordan, who was on her back, looked over. 

“Who?”

“My parents,” (Y/N) said. She sniffled. 

“You don’t really know that, (Y/N),” Jordan reassured. She turned over, now facing her completely. “They could’ve made it out. Maybe they’re heading back to (STATE) right now and we just missed them.”

The (H/C) haired woman shook her head, tears beginning to roll down rosy cheeks. 

“I asked… I asked Glenn, when he came back, how it looked in Atlanta right now,” she croaked out. “What he told me didn’t really sound like anyone really made it out without some serious consequences.”

“But that Jim guy made it out!”

“Lori told me it was by the skin of his teeth,” (Y/N) said quietly.  “Lost his entire family in the ordeal.” She wanted to sob, bury her head into her pillow, curl up into a ball and never come out of the tent. But there seemed to be a part of her that was refusing to even utter anything louder than a whisper. “If he barely got out? Jordan, my parents are in their sixties, almost seventies. They already had trouble moving around. I… I don’t think they even made it past their hotel when everything got too much for the city to handle…”

This time she curled up, shoulders shaking as she choked out quiet sobs. Jordan reached over and set a hand on her back, though she didn’t hold back her own silent tears as she tried to comfort the (H/C) haired woman.

For the first time in almost a month, the women let go.

***

Over the next few weeks, there was an odd sense of routine for them all. (Y/N) would wake up to Fabian curled up against her side and Jordan spread out at the other end of their small tent. Then after getting both up and moving, they went around doing various chores while gossiping and getting to know the rest of their camp mates. 

Oddly enough, Merle didn’t hesitate in shoving his way into that routine, which gave them odd looks from others, especially Merle’s stupidly attractive younger brother ((Y/N) swore all the good genes went to Daryl cause Merle certainly had very little attractive about him). A few times he hung around (Y/N) and Jordan when they went down to the quarry waters to wash their clothes, making innuendos that didn’t phase either woman. In return they shot back unamused quips that got Merle laughing, the sound echoing like gravel in a polisher. 

Fabian was wary of the older man. He felt that he was almost as gruff as Sophia’s dad, who didn’t look all too happy to be around anyone or anything and seemed even worse when he was forced to be alone (even though most of the time Ed Peltier forced himself to be alone as he refused to help anyone other than himself). The little boy watched behind his mother each time Merle made his way over and scowled whenever the man made an attempt to woo her (As that’s, in his mind, what he assumed the man was doing. He knew his mother was pretty, and knew that many men tried their hand to get a few dates in, but even he knew, at his young age, that Merle definitely wasn’t his mother’s type). 

About three weeks during all this, Merle made a point to  start sitting himself, as well as Daryl who followed him loyally, with the small family of three during dinner. The two had hunted together that morning, bringing back a clutch of rabbits and a few squirrels. (Y/N) wasn’t entirely looking forwards to trying either, but they were running low on canned goods now, only fruits and veggies and a few cans of noodle soup being left until Glenn made another quick run into the overrun city (as that’s what they considered it now, there was no denying to anyone other than Shane, and maybe Lori, that any help was coming any time soon to the city of Atlanta). 

“Got that all for you, sugar,” Merle said, pointing at the chunks of grilled meat in the stew. “Daryl helped, but I did all the work.”

(Y/N) caught the eye roll the younger Dixon gave his brother, the man sitting across from her and next to Jordan as they crowded around the small fire. She caught his eyes and she gave him a small smile before she  turned her attention back to Merle, saying, “Oh, thank you so much for this wonderful bounty, oh brave hunter. I’ll be sure to leave a five star rating on your Yelps review.”

Jordan snorted into her soup at that.

“Hey now, I’ll need that review, darlin’,” Merle said, this time to the dark skinned woman. “Keeps the customers trickling in.”

“What customers?” Jordan quipped.

“Well, ya could certainly be one, I don’t mind.”

“Keep dreaming.”

“Always am, darlin’.”

A week or so later, is when things started to get rough.

“We’re running too low on supplies,” Shane started out. A majority of the camp were grouped together as he called a meeting, Miranda, Amy and a few other women were watching the children as they played in the quarry lake. The weather was beginning to cool but it was still rather hot. “Glenn can only carry so much back, so we’re going to bring in a bigger group into the city, have more hands to carry more supplies. Anyone wanting to go can, but we gotta keep the group small.”

(Y/N) was dying to go. 

For purely selfish reasons.

Sure, finding canned goods and, hell, even new clothes and hygiene products, for everyone would be a good thing to bring back, (Y/N) needed to find something else. Something she felt was more important as the days began to count down. 

So, alongside T-Dog, Andrea, Merle, Morales, Jacqui and Glenn, she volunteered to go. Of course, that caused Fabian to have a meltdown.

“You can’t go!” he cried, clinging to her shirt. He dug his face into her side, hiding his face as tears dripped down his cheeks. “You have to stay here! I don’t want you to go!” They were sitting in the tent, Jordan in the RV to brush her teeth before everyone but Shane went to bed for the night. The next morning, everyone going into Atlanta would be getting up early to follow Glenn through the streets of the city. 

“Oh, Bumblebee,” she sighed. She managed to unlatch his fingers, dropping down to his level. Cupping his face, she began to wipe away the tears, trying to give him a reassuring smile. “I won’t be gone too long. Maybe a day, and then we’ll be back right away before you know it.”

“But why are you going?!” he asked. “You’re my mom! Carl’s mom isn’t going! Sophia’s mom isn’t going! So why are you?” 

“Because I’m on a special secret mission,” (Y/N) whispered. This, of course, peaked Fabian’s interest. He sniffled and leaned closer. 

“What mission?” he asked now, doing his best to whisper.

“Your birthday present, of course,” (Y/N) answered. “And Aunt Jordan’s! Did you know we completely missed it? And there’s no way we can give her a present here, there’s nothing she likes!”

“My birthday present?” he asked. “O-Of course, that is important,” Fabian stuttered, but he still frowned. “What if you get hurt? Glenn says that those monsters are still in there…”

“I’ll bring my hammer with me, to keep me safe,” (Y/N) said. “If it kept Luigi safe, it should keep Momma safe, right?”

Fabian still didn’t look reassured. 

“And Momma’s new friends will be with her and will help keep her safe too,” she continued. “Merle’s pretty strong, huh? And Jacqui and Andrea are super smart, and can help us get out of tight spaces. And Glenn knows exactly where we’re going. So we won’t be long and we’re getting more things that we need while we wait for help to come.”

Fabian didn’t look convinced at all, but was beginning to calm down. He slumped his shoulders, almost like he was giving up the fight.

“What will I do while you’re there?”

“You gotta make sure Aunt Jordan is distracted,” she answered. “We can’t have her knowing that we’re getting her a birthday present either. It’s super secret, and I’m only telling you.”

Fabian stood there, still visibly upset, but no longer was he making demands. 

“Alright…” he finally said. “I still don’t want you to go… Do you think you’ll find Grandma and Grandpa there?”

“I’m not sure, Bumblebee,” she said honestly. “We might, we might not. I don’t want you to get your hopes up, in case Grandma and Grandpa aren’t in there anymore.”

The brown haired boy nodded glumly, but curled into his mother for a hug. “I’m just scared you’ll end up like Carl’s dad…” He admitted into her shoulder. 

“I promise,” she said,” that I will do my absolute best to come back in one piece, with or without the presents.”

Fabian hummed into her shoulder, and (Y/N) hoped she sounded more confident than she really felt.

Chapter Text

Chapter 7: City in a Forest (Day 60, Pt 1)

The send off was rather emotional, for (Y/N) at least. The reality of leaving the camp and not knowing if she’d make it back was finally hitting her full force like a slap in the face. She had nightmares that night, flashes of the deformed faces passing in various stages: the melted carcasses in front of burning buildings, the bloody bodies stumbling past and lunging past their car as they drove down an open road, the limp body on the park bench that had everything that was supposed to be inside on the ground. She woke up feeling exhausted but she was going whether she wanted to or not.

(Y/N) got up from her spot, careful not to wake Fabian up as she untangled herself from his grip. Jordan was also still asleep, facing away from her as she continued to snore away. The (H/C) haired woman grabbed some clean(ish) clothes from the pre-packed pile nearby and left the tent, wanting some semblance of privacy before she packed herself into a car with six other people. 

Taking into account the weather the day before, (Y/N) changed into a pair of dark blue capris and a simple (F/C) cotton T-shirt. She ran a brush through her hair, debating how to style it in the tiny mirror in Dale’s RV, before she brushed her teeth and ran a shrinking deodorant stick in the appropriate places. 

When she was done, she left the RV, greeting Dale who was now coming in, and saw who else was now up in camp.

Glenn was pacing in front of the car they were using, looking as frazzled as (Y/N) felt. Shane, Morales and T-Dog were looking at the map, debating on where to go even though (Y/N) was sure they’d be going wherever Glenn was comfortable in leading them. She felt sorry for the younger man. It wasn’t easy being in charge, especially so young but better now than later down the road. From experience she knew that you’ll never get respect leading when you’re older if you never experienced how hard it is to get it when you’re younger. Andrea and Jacqui weren’t anywhere she could see, but she assumed that they would be turning up soon. Merle, unsurprisingly, was still in his tent he shared with his brother, who was indeed awake and looking to get ready for something himself.

(Y/N), not having anything else to do, took a deep breath and walked over, sitting next to the younger Dixon brother.

“Nervous?” she asked. She set her clasped hands between her legs, leaning forwards slightly and trying to look less stiff than she felt. 

“About what?” Daryl grunted. He was sharpening an arrow, one of the ones that didn’t look handmade.

“Merle leaving. You won’t have anyone to take credit for your work,” (Y/N) said. “Might have to admit to doing everything for once.” She cracked a smile at her attempt at a joke. 

“You’ll be the one pickin’ up his slack,” he said, after a few moments of silence. He stopped sharpening the arrowhead. “Should be me askin’ if you’ll be nervous.”

(Y/N) snorted. “Shouldn’t be too hard to keep him in check.”

“County jail couldn’t do it, doubt anythin’ could.”

“I have a few uncles like him,” (Y/N) admitted. 

Daryl raised an eyebrow in question. 

“One of them I heard stories about all the shenanigans he did while he was in his teens and twenties,” she continued. “He got married a few times, had a few babies too, but it wasn’t until he was considerably older, kind of around his forties, that he slowed down a bit. Still did some stuff that probably weren’t legal, but by then he was tied down by a woman that probably scared him more than anything, even if they beat each other almost weekly.”

“So Merle jus’ needs to fuck it out of his system, is what you’re saying?” Daryl said.

(Y/N) laughed. “If that’s all it was, he probably would’ve been easier to tolerate from what stories he’s told me. But, nah, that’s not really where I’m going with this. Mind you, all but one of my uncles were in some form of military, and this one was no exception. So he got pretty scary from what I’ve been told, didn’t hold back on shrooms or any other drug he could get ahold of, and did an okay job raising the gaggle of children with his various wives. But he mellowed out eventually. I think he had a lot more responsibility on his shoulders, more so than in his younger years, and that helped a lot.

“Pretty sure once Merle runs out of whatever he’s got in that bag of his, gets something else for his head to focus on, he’ll be easier to handle, is all I’m trying to say,” (Y/N) finished. “It worked for my uncles, who walked similar paths, so it might work for him. Especially since it probably won’t be easy to get any of the super potent stuff any time soon.”

Daryl started to pack the sharpened arrows into the quiver. “I don’t think anything could change Merle,” he said, hiking the quiver onto his shoulder. “Merle can’t even change Merle.”

(Y/N) sighed. “It sure seems like that sometimes.” Looking around, she noted that Andrea was now at the car, putting a small backpack into the trunk. “Are you hunting today?”

“Go’ nothin’ better to do while Merle’s gone.”

She hummed and as Daryl stood, she followed. “You be safe then. Don’t do anything stupid out there, since you’ll be by yourself.”

Daryl grunted and looked down at the floor, but didn’t start to move away either.

“I’ll try and keep your stupid brother in check, too,” she continued. “And if you get back before we do, keep an eye on Fabian and Jordan for me? I think Fabian would like to hear about the Chupacabra story again. I think that’s his new favorite animal now.” She couldn’t stop the smile that cracked onto her face.

That first week in camp, Amy had brought the story up in front of her son and Fabian, who was normally pretty shy around most adults for a good bit, didn’t hesitate to try and ask Daryl to tell the story to him himself. Of course, he didn’t actually get the story until the first week Merle and Daryl began eating with them, but the ten year old was now obsessed with Daryl’s stories. 

“Yea’, sure,” Daryl said, face flushed. It was a little cute to see, but (Y/N) kept it to herself. 

Daryl took that time to skedaddle into the woods behind him without any further words between either of them. (Y/N) just watched him disappear into the woods, feeling lighter than she had when she woke, but still had a cloud of exhaustion resting on her back. 

“I see,” a new voice cut in, once Daryl had gone out of sight. “It’s the brother you’re going for. Ol’ Merle just ain’t your style, huh?” Merle, now awake, emerged from the Dixon tent, scratching his beer gut and smirking all the while like he had just solved a cold case as easily as eating pie. 

“Ah, you discovered my secret,” (Y/N) said dryly. “I was never into blondes, that’s the real reason I won’t bounce on your dick.”

“So if I colored my hair..?”

“Fuck, no, not even then,” (Y/N) laughed.

“It’s the brunettes then, for ya,” Merle sighed. “Should’ve guessed. Kids got the same hair. Lemme guess, blue eyes do it for ya too?”

“I wouldn’t know if my son’s dad had brown hair because I never met the guy.” (Y/N) rolled her eyes, beginning to walk away and closer to the rest of the camp. Surely by now Jordan would be awake, if not her son. 

“Sperm donor? Wouldn’ta figured you’d be that kind of woman,” Merle drawled, following closely behind her. 

“Not that either.”

“What, he just came out of nowhere like another Baby Jesus?”

Another eye roll. Hanging out with Merle seriously gave her a headache sometimes, and she was beginning to wonder if it was from constantly rolling her eyes.

“He’s adopted, genius,” she muttered.

“Shit, does he know that?”

“Of course. I told him as soon as he asked about where his dad was, I wasn’t going to lie about it for his entire life, that’s just cruel,” (Y/N) said. “Why break a kid’s trust like that, that’s obviously gonna build a wall between parent and child, blood or no blood. Besides, blood is thicker than water, after all.”

Merle gave a confused hum, still following (Y/N) even as they passed the RV and more towards (Y/N) and Jordan’s tent. “I thought ya said y’all not related.”

“The saying goes the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb . You know what that means, right? No hard words?”

“Nah, makes sense to me,” Merle chuckled. “Schoolin’ me like the teacher ya are.”

“Not hard when you have the IQ of the kids I teach.”

***

It was only an hour later that they were on the road. Fabian and Jordan wished (Y/N) a safe journey and all three did their best to hold back worries and tears before they were out of sight. Morales and his family seemed to be in a similar boat, while Amy and Andrea had the easiest send off between family members, aside from Merle and Daryl, the latter leaving before either could say a farewell and see you later. 

The path to Atlanta wasn’t far. They parked the car just outside the city limits, getting out and grabbing the few bags they brought with them. Andrea, T-Dog, Glenn and (Y/N) had a bag, all hoping to have it filled completely to bring back. 

(Y/N) was shocked to see how empty the streets were. It was eerily silent, barely any noise coming off anything but their shoes, as they walked quickly to the nearest department store. It was the first stop they decided on while looking at the map. Everyone but Glenn would spend a few hours there, getting clothes and other stuff they might need while Glenn goes nearby to a grocery store they hadn’t covered yet to get the canned goods. T-Dog had Dale’s tools with him in his bag, in case they needed an easy way to break into the buildings. 

(Y/N) had to look away a few times, seeing half torn bodies littered on sidewalks and in half destroyed vehicles, the acrid smell of decay making her stomach roll and jerk uncomfortably. When they saw one of the sick, or “walkers” as Glenn was calling them, they stopped and quickly tried to determine if they were an immediate threat or not. Each time (Y/N) gripped the handle of her hammer even tighter, feeling the tape wrapped on the handle digging into her skin almost as deep as her nails. 

Eventually they made it to the department store. They found the alley, blocked off by a semi-truck, and Glenn looked under and confirmed it was empty. One-by-one, they crawled after him. Once Jacqui went through (Y/N) followed, glad that Merle was keeping watch silently for once. 

By the time Morales came through, the last of the group to crawl under the truck, Glenn had gotten the back door open without the need for Dale’s tools and everyone began to enter the store.

(Y/N) felt like she had been in all kinds of department stores in her lifetime. Large multi-story ones were her favorite, even if sometimes the same thing was sold on every floor, while the smaller ones were cute and easy to go through quickly. This one would’ve been nice to go through, if the monsters weren’t roaming around outside. 

It was quiet. It reminded (Y/N) of the few times she returned home from a long, busy day of work, where Fabian was still at school and she had the whole apartment to herself. Like one small drop of a pen would break the cotton stuffed silence and all sound would come rushing in and remind them all that they weren’t really alone like they thought. 

Andrea and Glenn did a quick sweep of the main floor of the store while everyone else made camp near a jewelry case in the center. Merle, ever the wildcard, wandered around and started looking at clothes with little to no interest, eyes flitting to the stairwell exit that led to the roof. (Y/N) could almost smell the trouble that Merle was no doubt going to cause, but she didn’t feel the need to break any silence until given the all-clear that they were actually safe in the store. She’d seen, one night while Fabian was asleep, what those “walkers” could do when someone caught their attention.

“There’s nothing here,” Glenn said. “Just speak softly and we shouldn’t get any attention from any of the walkers still outside.” He pointed to the dirty glass doors, double layered to keep the A/C in and the heat out. There wasn’t anything wandering outside but, from what Glenn had said a few times, that could easily change if one wasn’t paying attention. “Are you all going to be okay while I go across the street?” 

“Yeah, we should be fine,” Jacqui assured. Glenn didn’t look too confident, and (Y/N) could sympathize with the man. This was the first time they sent anyone other than Glenn into the city. And knowing human nature, anything that could go wrong, will.

“We have a gun, in case anything goes wrong,” Andrea added. “Just go get what we need, we’ll look here for clothes and other stuff.”

Hesitating, Glenn did so, leaving through the back breakroom and through the back exit and into the street. T-Dog and Morales followed after him, to make sure the door closed behind him securely and to make sure he had the walkie-talkie on him working as well. 

“Well, I’m going to scope the roof,” Merle said, once everyone began to split. “You coming, sugar?”

(Y/N) shook her head. “I’m looking for birthday presents and clothes,” she said quietly. 

“Presents? Didn’t think anyone was keepin’ up on the dates anymore since the whole world turned ta shit.”

(Y/N) shrugged and crossed her arms. It was a little chilly in the store, even with no A/C running. With only the sun heating up the stones and brick on the outside, there wasn’t anything else keeping the insides warm in the early morning. “I’m merely guessing based on what the small calendar in Dale’s RV says. Just know we’re nearing Fabian’s birthday, which is at the end of the month. Figured I’d actually try to get him something, even if I’ll technically be stealing it.”

Merle snorted. “Ain’t no laws no more, sugar,” he advised. “It ain’t stealing either, if no one sees it. I’ll keep my lips shut, just in case, so you don’t need to worry your pretty little head about it.”

“You, shutting up? Wow, I can’t wait to see that happen,” (Y/N) couldn’t help but joke. 

Merle wrapped an arm around her shoulders, bringing the smaller woman closer. “I may not do shit for anyone but Merle, but I ain’t no snitch. You remember that, ya hear?”

(Y/N) pushed him away, lightly, and he let her. “Whatever, you don’t cause too much trouble up there, Dixon. I don’t want to explain to Daryl why you didn’t come back in one piece.”

Merle laughed and sauntered away. 

(Y/N) looked around the store. She grabbed clothes in all kinds of sizes, only making sure they were in good or okay condition. She kept an eye out for anything that Jordan or Fabian would like, something special that would be just for them.

A necklace or bracelet looked nice, but she decided against it. Fabian wasn’t one for jewelry and Jordan could be picky on which piece she wanted, and (Y/N) always forgot what type she preferred anyways since she didn’t wear jewelry that often. She found a few toys, ones that Fabian would’ve wanted if he was just a few years younger, and a rather pretty scarf in the sales bin that Jordan would’ve liked if it wasn’t excruciatingly hot outside. 

There was another floor in the store, connected with an escalator. It was mainly appliances and bathroom things, broken and left to rust by what looters managed to get into the building. Whatever was taken must’ve been the most expensive, as the clothes downstairs seemed untouched but a few pricey microwaves were left empty on the shelves. She grabbed some liquid dish soap and put it in her bag, as well as some sample shampoo and conditioner bottles. She found some lotion, travel sized and nearly expired, and some old sunscreen in an aisle behind the shampoo, and a few small hair brushes that were likely for children but were easy to stuff into her bag. 

It was there, in the aisle beyond that, that she was able to find the perfect gifts. She smiled once she plucked the sparkle Hello Kitty keychain from the discount shelf, setting it in a small pocket on the side of her bag. In the other, she set the tiny figurine, one from Ben 10 that looked like it was made from lava,inside, knowing for a fact that Fabian would be giddy seeing the fiery looking alien.

(Y/N) felt at ease to look for more supplies now that her main secret mission was done. She found a few more clothes and sanitary products that weren’t too destroyed or unusable, and eventually she wandered back down to the main floor to wait, a little giddy to go back to the camp to see her family’s reactions. She only hoped that things continued to go as smoothly as it had been. 

Of course, things don’t always go as one hopes anymore.

Chapter Text

Chapter 8: Helicopter Boy (Day 60, pt 2)

(Y/N) was taking a small break, sitting on the glass case in the jewelry department and chewing on a stale granola bar she had stuffed in her pocket before leaving.  She had stuffed her bag pretty full and could tell that the others weren’t too empty either. All that was left to do was wait for Glenn to come back with any food he had managed to scavenge and they’d be heading back to camp. 

She was feeling antsy on getting back. In the few hours they were away, despite how little interaction, how little they saw, of the walkers and deceased in the streets and alleyways. (Y/N) felt extremely lucky in the fact that her hammer was still mostly clean (she had used it only once, in self defense, at a rest stop in Louisiana. It had hit the guy, on the shoulder, but knocked him over enough that she was able to run back to the car. Jordan never asked why she was so frazzled and she never spoke on it either. To this day she wasn’t sure if the guy was just that, some guy). She wasn’t sure if she had the guts to actually use it, the way that Daryl used his crossbow or Shane used his gun. And now probably wasn’t the time to figure it out.

A commotion outside caught her attention and she tossed her wrapper to the side as she hopped off the glass, wandering to peer out one of the dust covered windows. A few of those walkers, previously hiding in the shadows, were beginning to become active, crawling and stumbling along the street. (Y/N) ducked to the floor, breath heavy and heart pounding worse than any public speaking gig she was ever forced to do. Despite sounds of their moans, guttural and low, coming through the glass and stone like a whisper, it sounded louder than the rushing of blood she could hear in her ears. 

“Holy shit!” Andrea whispered, causing (Y/N) to jump in surprise. The blonde was crouched across from her, looking about as spooked as (Y/N) felt. She had a hand on her gun. 

(Y/N) was still having trouble calming down but managed to whisper out, “Why are they moving? Are they hungry?”

“Your guess is as good as mine,” Andrea said. She took a chance to peek out, stretching her neck out long enough to look past the wall. (Y/N) slowly did the same, her hands shaking, but she began to slowly reach for her hammer that was resting on the belt loop of her capris. It was a little difficult to pull out, the grip catching on the denim, and (Y/N) was beginning to wonder if there were any jeans in the men’s section in her size (as of course, it seemed that only their pants had a handy machete loop). 

There were three or four that walked past but none seemed interested in what was in the store. From the corner of her eye, (Y/N) spotted Jacqui and Morales creeping closer but staying far back from the windows. She had no idea where T-Dog was and hoped to God that Merle was behaving wherever he decided to wander off too for the last hour and a half. 

In seconds, gunshots. Distant but alerting anything sick and moving towards it as it echoed against the tall damaged buildings of Atlanta. Andrea cursed again besides her, face paling as more walkers shambled past, looking more eager, more hungry. It sent shivers down (Y/N)’s spine, goosebumps raising on her skin. 

Ducking back, she crept quietly back to where the bags were by the jewelry case, counting her breaths alongside her quiet footsteps. A large part of her wanted to run, go somewhere other than the city, but she resisted. If there were this many that they could see, shambling about like decaying drunks, there were no doubt more and her running through the streets, panicking like an idiot, would only get her torn apart.

And she had too much to live for for that to happen.

“Poor soul, whoever that is…” Jacqui muttered, sliding beside her behind the glass case. “May they rest easy.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t cause anything to come our way,” Morales added. “Don’t want whatever’s happening to them to happen to us.”

(Y/N) merely nodded, catching sight of T-Dog, now coming out and propping the door that led to the roof. He looked fairly sweaty, and the bag of tools he was carrying with him was nowhere to be seen.

The gunshots silenced as quickly as it started. Jacqui looked down, hands clasped together in front of her. Morales closed his eyes, and (Y/N) took a shaky breath, feeling cold sweat running down the back of her neck. She didn’t realize she was so warm, until the relief of silence once again reigned in the city.

“I’m going to go upstairs,” (Y/N) whispered to Jacqui, who nodded silently and turned back to sorting through one of the bags, trying to stuff more supplies in without the bag bursting. She passed T-Dog, who looked too nervous for her tastes, but didn’t comment, merely giving a tight lipped smile. 

(Y/N) felt her muscles burn as she climbed the steps. She could feel a headache forming, her neck and shoulders feeling more tense than it had in nearly a month. As she climbed higher she felt both relieved to be away from whatever had happened down below, but a sense of unease was still creeping up at the back of her mind. She did her best to push it away, rubbing her eyes for a split second before continuing, and opening the door to the roof.

Merle looked like he was having the time of his life, despite looking more burnt than a Totino's pizza. (Y/N) glanced over to see the rifle he carried with him, one he used for hunting with his brother, on the ground beside his feet. She took note of the plastic bag poking out of his pocket, wrinkled due to overuse. 

“Did you see what was causing all that?” she asked, keeping her voice low. She may have been up higher, but didn’t want to test it. “It wasn’t you firing that gun, right Merle?”

“Nah, sugar,” he drawled. He didn’t sound entirely sober, which raised her hackles. “Ain’t nothin’ but good Ol’ Merle up here.”

“And the gunshots?”

More sounded off, echoing but sounding closer. Whoever it was, they weren’t as dead as they assumed.

Merle gave a whoop, making (Y/N) nearly jump out of her skin. Merle stomped towards the railing, picking up his rifle and began peering down the scope towards the street. Cautious, (Y/N) did the same. 

There was more activity going on in the street than there was before. More walkers were spilling onto the street, and sharp movements and heavy breathing caught (Y/N)’s attention down the street. 

Glenn had dropped down a fire escape, a man in a sheriff’s uniform following soon after. Both looked rather shaken, the mystery man more so than Glenn. (Y/N) noticed the gun in Officer Mystery’s hand. That must’ve been who was firing the gun, and knowing Glenn and his bleeding heart, he must have jumped in to help the guy.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” (Y/N) said, before spinning on her heel and heading back down. 

Things never did go smoothly anymore.

****

It was almost midday and Jordan was starting to get a little worried. She and Fabian were sitting near the RV, resting in the shade as others did work nearby. Carl had wanted to play, but Fabian, worried for his mother, turned the other boy down and instead stuck to Jordan’s side like glue. If she also wasn’t worried about (Y/N) she would’ve figured her nephew in all but blood was coming down with a fever. 

Jordan had gotten Fabian to help with cleaning the laundry that morning, their clothes now drying near their tent on a length of twine tied between two trees. It didn’t make the day pass any faster, so she had suggested playing in the lake, even willing to go in herself to try and perk up the kid. But even that was turned down. So for the next few hours after that they sat by Dale’s RV, watching everyone else (or reading in Jordan’s case) go about their morning. 

Amy almost seemed to be on the edge of her seat as well. At one point that morning, they heard something come across the police issue CV radio Shane had brought with him from Kentucky. Of course, whoever it was couldn’t be reached and it was already a piece of crap (in Jordan’s opinion) so she wasn’t surprised it barely worked anyways.

“Is it almost time for them to come back?” Fabian asked. Besides them, Lori was cutting Carl’s hair as Shane came up beside them.

“Should be any moment, Cricket,” Jordan replied. “They left real early this morning, and we’re not far from the city, just a ten minute drive, max. And Shane says that they’re going to a store that’s real close too.”

“So momma should be done now,” Fabian stated. He looked more serious than Jordan had ever seen it. “Any moment.”

Carl’s exclamation took Jordan’s attention. The kid had pulled a face, similar to one who smelt it, but didn’t “dealt” it. 

“No, yum!” Shane said in response, looking quite pleased with himself.

“No, he’s right. Eww,” Lori agreed. 

Shane gave a smirk. “When you get down to that last can of beans, you’re gonna be loving those frog legs, lady. I can see it now… ‘Shane, do you think I could have a second helping, please? Please? Just one?’”

Lori rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I doubt that.”

Shane laughed and Jordan looked away and turned her attention back to her book. She wasn’t one of romance, a bit inexperienced in the flirting department, but even she knew that Shane had it down bad for Lori. The story of how he saved her and her son back home, choosing to either stay with her comatose husband or take Lori and Carl out of the city being one of the hardest decisions he ever had to make. She had tearfully talked Shane up when it was brought up, one dinner, the gleam of something Jordan couldn’t identify shining through her eyes whenever she looked at the deputy. 

And they weren’t particularly quiet either. The two shared a tent with Carl, sure, but it didn’t take a genius to see them stumbling into the woods to know what they were doing in there. A few times, yesterday afternoon even, Lori would walk in by herself and Shane wouldn’t waste longer than three minutes to trail after her like a lost puppy. 

Whether they fucked or not wasn’t Jordan’s concerns. But it felt out of place, left a bitter taste in her mouth, didn’t settle right in her gut kind of feeling, however you wanted to put it. It didn’t seem right. Like a bad romance novel from a thirteen year old on Wattpad, it seemed too good to be true for both parties and soon, a dramatic entrance from someone neither expected would be coming in to ruin their fun.

Jordan didn’t exactly want to be there for when that fallout happened. The look in Shane’s eyes, sometimes, put her on edge.

A car alarm, loud and sharp, echoed around the quarry, snapping Jordan out of her thoughts. It snapped everyone out of whatever they were doing. Fabian bolted out of his seat, Jordan following soon after as they looked down the dust beaten road to see what was coming. Everyone began clamoring together to figure out what was happening. 

“Talk to me Dale!” Shane shouted, looking up at the older man on the top of the RV. Dale was looking through a pair of cheap black binoculars. 

“I can’t tell yet,” he said. 

“Is it them?” Amy asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Are they back?”

“Is my mom with them?” Fabian asked, latching onto Jordan’s hand. He was looking up at Dale with hope shining in his blue eyes. “Why are they so loud?”

“I’ll be damned,” Dale said, putting down the binoculars. 

Amy looked ready to explode, fingers flexing with the need to grab and pull onto something. “What is it?!”

“A stolen car is my guess,” he answered. He was getting up from his seat on the roof, beginning to climb down to join the rest of the camp on the ground. 

It didn’t take long for Jordan to see what was making all that noise. A bright red sports car, shiny as if recently polished by the gods, was zooming along the dirt road that led to I-85. Its alarm was going off in a series of whines and sirens. It was extremely loud and flashy, to the point it was raising Jordan’s anxiety, instead of easing it. This definitely wasn’t what she expected to see coming towards them.

Soon, it stopped just shy of the rest of the group, Glenn coming out with a shit eating grin on his face. He looked younger than he had in days, and if the fact that the alarm wasn’t turning off along with the car, Jordan would’ve been excited to hear whatever story came along with that smile. Instead, she pulled Fabian closer to her side as she looked behind the red car, expecting the van to come up behind him very soon. 

Nothing came. 

Dale was beginning to lecture the young man, while Amy was crowding him and asking a series of questions. Shane was trying to help to turn the alarm off while Glenn began stuttering answers and quips towards all three. Eventually, the sound cuts off, the last echoes feeling like an omen.

“Why isn’t she with you? Where is she? She’s okay?” Amy was demanding. Fabian was gripping Jordan’s shirt so tightly she was sure if there weren’t holes in it from his nails, the fabric would be forever twisted into the shapes of his fingers. 

Glenn responded, overwhelmed. “Yes! Yeah, fine. Everybody is. Well, Merle not so much….”

Jordan wasn’t too sad about that but knew a loss was a loss, even if the redneck pervert was one of them. She couldn’t be too sure how (Y/N) was going to feel about it. Their relationship was strange, and one Jordan herself didn’t encourage. One day he was hitting on them both, alluding to them being lesbian lovers, and then falling back, reassessing, and then deciding they were old pals in the making. (Y/N) made no mention if she thought Merle was a friend, and Jordan never remembered to ask. Jordan was beginning to wonder, around the second week of dinners, if (Y/N) was dealing with Merle’s uncouth speech and topics as a way to ogle at his younger and much more tolerable brother. Again, she kept forgetting to even ask if that was the case.

“Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here?” Shane admonished. “Are you trying to draw every walker for miles?”

Dale, the pacifist, stepped in. “I think we’re okay.”

“You call being stupid okay?”

Dale shrugged but didn’t let down. Shane looked pretty pissed, almost hostile. “Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills,” he justified. “Hard to pinpoint the source. I’m not arguing. I’m just saying. It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?” He directed the last bit towards Glenn, who apologized but didn’t look much apologetic at all.

Soon, another car showed up, more subdued and less loud, but the sound of rocks crunching under its weight caught everyone’s attention. Still tense and ready for action, they watched in baited breath as it stopped next to the sports car.

The door opened and Andrea stepped out, Amy giving a sigh of relief as she ran towards her sister. The two blonde women clashed together in a hug. Morales got out next, his own family happily greeting him, Miranda wiping away tears of relief. Fabian was shaking next to her and Jordan herself was getting antsy in anticipation. Merle was the only casualty , she kept thinking, an almost cruel thought. She’s fine. Glenn would’ve told us otherwise.

T-Dog and Jacqui were next, not much fanfare from loved ones, but Dale welcomed them back like he was their grandfather and parents mixed all into one. Yet there was still no (Y/N) in sight, and Jordan was one-hundred-percent sure she’d be the first one out of that van as soon as it came to a stop. 

“How’d y’all get out of there anyway?” she heard Shane ask Glenn. He looked much happier now than he did five minutes ago.

Glenn, now relaxed that Shane’s ire wasn’t pointed at him any longer, responded, “New guy… he got us out.”

“New guy?”

Morales chuckled. “Yeah, crazy Vato just got into town.” The man turned around and called to the van, who still had a door open. “Hey, Helicopter Boy! Come say Hello!”

A man came out, dressed like a stereotypical sheriff, hat included. He looked worse for wear, pale and clammy in the Georgian heat, with sweat, dirt and a little dried blood. Brown hair, slicked back, and a beard just barely there, he looked at the group like he had seen a ghost.

“The guys a cop, like you,” Morales concluded.

 Rick begins to walk forwards and it's then that Jordan notices the look on Shane’s face. The deputy looked both shocked, concerned and defeated, almost like his every dream had just been ripped from his hands as soon as he got a small taste. Jordan would’ve felt sorry for him, if she wasn’t swimming in a pool of anxiety and fear.

Carl, as soon as he caught sight of the man from his own little pity party, perked up and dashed towards him. His mother soon followed, tears rolling down her cheeks as they screamed in surprise. The man took the boy in his arms, dropping to his knees doing so, and Lori collapsed on top of them, wrapping both males in her skinny grip. 

Despite the happy reunion, Jordan couldn’t help but drag a shaking Fabian with her towards where the others were, reaching Andrea first, who was still hugging a relieved Amy. T-Dog looked at them with heavy guilt on his face, and dread was joining her fear. 

“Where is (Y/N)?” she asked, voice shaking. “Why isn’t she with you?”

Andrea looked at T-Dog.

“She didn’t come with us,” was all she said, though she did look slightly guilty as well. “We didn’t have time to wait for her. There were walkers coming into the building.”

“We left Merle on a roof a-a-and I dropped the key,” T-Dog stammered. “I thought she was behind me, after I closed the door and chained it… O-Or at least left before I did, but she wasn’t there when I got down.” The large man looked ready to burst into tears. 

Fabian burst into tears, hysterical sobs dragging him and Jordan to the ground, who was too numb to hold either of them up. He buried his face into her shoulder, and she brought the young boy closer, tears pricking at the corners of her vision as she wrapped her arms around him.

T-Dog had a few tears slip down his cheeks too, and he tried to reach a hand out in a gesture of comfort but brought it back at the last second, unsure.

“I’m so sorry.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 9: The Hunter Returns (Day 60-61)

Jordan felt more numb than she’s ever felt in years. Not even the few times in her early twenties when a date had gone south fast and she was left with tears and a broken heart. Not even when she got the call about her father’s death, and then her mother’s only a few years prior. Not even when she sat alone one night, (Y/N) and Fabian sleeping soundly beside her in the car, and thought about her brother and how they left things before the whole world ended and all the regrets she now knew would never be fulfilled. 

At some point, someone must’ve led Fabian and her to one of the fires. With no Daryl, Merle or (Y/N) around she was sitting next to Amy and Jacqui on either side of her, both looking at the two with sad, almost pitying looks. Jordan felt a spark of heat, a deep anger, but didn’t do much about it. It would waste any energy she had left.

“Disoriented. I guess that comes closest,” the new guy, Rick, was saying. A majority of the group, Jordan noticed, was surrounding this fire, while a smaller one with the Peltiers were a few feet away. “Disoriented. Fear, confusion… all those things but… Disoriented comes closest.”

Dale, ever the wise old man, spoke, “Words can be meager things. Sometimes they fall short.”

Jordan had to agree. The feelings she held within her heart, there were hardly any words she knew that could accurately describe how she was feeling.

“I felt like I’d been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else,” Rick continued. He was looking lovingly at his wife and son. “For a while, I thought I was trapped in some coma dream, something I might not wake up from ever.”

Carl, who was squished at his side, looked up at his dad in awe and tentative relief. “Mom said you died,” he said, voice small. 

“She had every reason to believe that,” Rick comforted. “Don’t you ever doubt it.”

Shane looked like he swallowed piss each time Rick said something, but whatever was in his thoughts he didn’t bother to voice. Jordan couldn’t help but watch from where she sat. Rick’s arrival seemed to awaken a new Shane, one dormant since before the outbreak. It was more meek in Rick’s presence, but there was an undercurrent, something meaner, behind his eyes whenever he glanced over at his friend and his wife. The woman he was fucking the last few months while they thought he was dead. 

She tuned back in after Rick said something about the hospital he came from, Shane speaking his turn for the first time since they all sat down. “Yeah, looks don’t deceive,” he said, sounding more jovial than he looked. “I barely got them out, you know?” 

“I can’t tell you how grateful I am to you, Shane,” Rick expressed sincerely. “I can’t begin to express it.”

“There go those words falling short again. Paltry things,” Dale piped up.

Something small, wooden, landed with a thunk behind her moments after. The crackling of the fire came next, sounding more alive and angry as she felt. Jordan could almost feel it within her bones, warming her next to her own heat building from inside. Shane, who noticed first, stood up, ready to fight.

“Hey, Ed,” he called out, commanding. “You want to rethink that log?”

Ed Peltier grunted, unamused. “It’s cold, man.”

“The cold don’t change the rules, does it?” Shane countered. “Keep our fires low, just embers so we can’t be seen from a distance, right?” 

Jordan didn’t need to turn around to see that Ed wasn’t too pleased with Shane. Though, nothing ever seemed to please Ed, not even his own family.

“I said, it’s cold,” he grunted again. “You should mind your own business for once.”

Shane walks over, and Jordan tunes out whatever intimidation tactic the deputy was beginning to do. It takes a few minutes, a few curses, but eventually peace is brought back as Shane retakes his seat near the newly reunited Grimes family.

Dale, while wise, decided to speak up again.

“Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?” he questioned. “He won’t be happy to hear his brother was left behind.”

“He definitely won’t be happy,” Jordan said, almost glowering. “ We weren’t happy when we found out (Y/N) was left there too.” She gave a pointed look towards T-Dog and the others, who looked away.

“I’ll tell him,” T-Dog said soon after. “I dropped the key. I didn’t check to make sure she was behind me. It’s on me.”

Rick shook his head. “I cuffed him. That makes it mine.”

Glenn put himself between the two. “Guys, it’s not a competition,” he joked, though it fell flat. “I don’t mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy.” 

T-Dog argued otherwise and Amy suggested lying. Jordan, who knew even less about Daryl than she did Merle, knew that even that was a bad idea. Barely anything good came from a lie, and white lies were something that was a huge miscommunication troupe. She talked about lengths about different booktropes on her YouTube channel only a few months prior, a video style she was testing and hoped to see blossom if only the internet didn’t stop working. 

“Or tell the truth,” Andrea stated, steadfast to bring both possibilities to the table. “Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he’d have gotten us killed. Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, if (Y/N) did, it is nobody’s fault but theirs.”

Bitch , Jordan thought, eyes narrowing at the blonde woman. If she had psychic powers, now would be a good time for them to manifest. 

“I was scared and I ran,” the large man admitted. “I’m not ashamed of it.”

Andrea frowned, pushing harder. “We were all scared. We all ran. What’s your point?”

“I stopped long enough to chain that door,” T-Dog argued. “Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time.” He looked around the group, stopping longer on Jordan and Fabian, before continuing on. “It’s not enough to break through that… not that chain, not that padlock. My point… Dixon and (Y/N), if she stayed on the roof, are alive and they’re still up there, on that roof. That’s on us.”

Jordan had enough of that conversation. Encouraging Fabian to get up, they walked to their tent, which was still next to everyone else’s. They had chosen a spot not too far from the rest of camp but decided to roost between the Dixon brothers and the Martinez family. Tonight would be a quiet night, as the tent to their left, which led into the woods, would be empty.

The next morning, Jordan felt exhausted. Fabian had cried himself to sleep, and as much as she wanted to do the same, she felt more anger than anything. She couldn’t stop the images flashing past her eyes whenever she closed her eyes.  (Y/N) being torn apart, like the elderly couple in Tennessee they saw in an Old Country Buffet parking lot. (Y/N), left to die of thirst as walkers pounded away at the door, Merle passed out while chained to a pipe. (Y/N), being pushed to the walkers as Merle ran, the (H/C) haired woman was too kind to not help a chained man (friend? Ally?) in need and having her kindness thrown in her face like pocket sand. 

In a way, she was angry at (Y/N) for even going. She had a son to take care of. She chose to have Fabian and yet she went off on a journey that didn’t need the extra hands. But she knew that she went for a reason other than to help, one that she too would’ve done if she had the chance. But it didn’t stop how upset and frustrated and other confusing emotions she couldn’t name that she felt towards her friend. 

She had gotten a few unrestful hours in, where it felt like her eyes were just closed and she never fell asleep. When the sun rose and the birds became too loud to ignore, she rolled over, grumpy, and changed her shirt quickly while Fabian still snored away. She contemplated staying or waking him up, but decided against it. Instead, she left her blanket open, in case Fabian woke up while she was out and worried, and got out of the tent to relieve herself and brush her teeth. 

She noticed that others were awake and bustling around, including the newcomer, Officer Rick Grimes who was talking with Carol near the RV. She walked past, not bothering to hear their conversation and was glad to see no one using the bathroom. She quickly did her business and left, going to see if there was anything needed to do before she was back on kid duty.

By then Fabian was up and walking towards her, his brown hair messy and in need of a brush. She wondered if he’d be willing for his own haircut, if he wanted one. 

She began to steer him to go wash up himself, as Shane had come driving through with more water, when screams, children’s screams, echoed beyond the trees. 

Immediately people were on the move. 

Jordan grabbed Fabian’s hand, dragging him behind her as other mothers in the camp held their children and the people with weapons ran towards the source, which weren’t very many. Carl and a few other children, Sophia included, were running towards them, looking quite fearful despite nothing chasing them. Glenn called for Officer Friendly, who followed with a pole, and, curious to see herself, Jordan cautiously followed with a reluctant Fabian still crowded behind her. She stood next to Lori, who had pulled Carl closer to herself. 

Just a few feet into the grove, there was a deer carcass. One that was currently being snacked on by one of the monsters that now roamed the earth. It didn’t seem too concerned about its surroundings as it continued to munch eagerly on the deer’s middle, ignoring the arrows that were clearly sticking out of its flank. When one of the men got too close, it began to turn, and that’s when the rest began to beat the walker with their weapons. Or rather objects.

The walker didn’t seem to phased, not even lifting a hand to block the assault. It looked more agitated that it was being bothered, and it was still hungry. It swiped a few times, as best as it could with a bunch of random things being hit on its sides and legs, but it grasped at nothing but air. Dale came, with an ax, and swung down, dislodging the head from the rest of the body like a knife in soft butter. He seemed rather shocked.

“It’s the first one we’ve had up here,” he mentions. “They never come this far up the mountain.”

Jordan felt shocked too, never having actually been this close to one without the separation of a car door. Fabian was hiding his face in her shirt, shaking.

“Well, they’re running out of food in the city, that’s what,” Jim inputs.

A snapping of branches alerted everyone in the group, who tensed up and raised their weapons in wait to see if another walker would show. Instead, to Jordan’s immense relief, Daryl Dixon comes out, looking much less the same as usual. Just more upset. 

“Son of a bitch!” was the first thing that came out of his mouth and Jordan visibly relaxed even further. “That’s my deer! Look at it. All gnawed on by this… filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!”

That could’ve been Shakespeare if I didn’t know any better , Jordan thought but agreed. She dreaded hearing what he would say once he learned of Merle and (Y/N)’s predicament. 

“Now, calm down son, that’s not helping,” Dale tried to placate.

“What do you know about it, old man?” Daryl snarked. “Why don’t you take that stupid hat and go back to ‘on golden pond’? I’ve been tracking this deer for miles!” He gave a kick to the dead animal. “Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison.” Calmer, he crouched down to observe the cooling meat, eyeing the chewed on flesh where the walker had taken chunks. “What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?”

Shane shook his head, arms crossed. “I would not risk that.”

Daryl sighs, but takes a step back from the deer. “That’s a damn shame. I got some squirrels… about a dozen or so. That’ll have to do.”

A groan and clacking sound came from the head of the walker, still alive. A few of the women squealed, men taking a step back with a gasp or a grunt, and Amy looked ready to be sick.

“Come on, people,” Daryl said. He looked exasperated with everything already, despite the early morning sun just peaking over the tops of the trees. “What the hell?” He took a bolt, placed it in his crossbow, and shot it at the head of the walker. It silenced the creature within seconds. 

“It’s gotta be the brains,” he stated. Jordan associated it with the way one does to someone they deem far more stupid than themselves. “Don’t y’all know nothing?”

He strutted towards the main camp area, everyone else following behind but a few who offered to move the walker’s remains and the rest of the deer further from camp. With each step closer, T-Dog became more and more visibly nervous while Rick and Shane were exchanging well practiced looks. Jordan was only a small distance away, in the middle as she led Fabian back and ushered him towards the RV, standing close as he went in to brush his teeth and pee. She was glad she got him inside as fast.

“Merle!” Daryl called. He looked around the camp, taking note of Jordan standing guard at the door to the RV, but continued otherwise. “Merle! Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel! Let’s stew ‘em up!” He held up the twine that held the dead animals.

“Daryl,” Shane started, now catching up with the hunter. “Just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you.” The deputy had his hands out like he was trying to calm down a raging bull. 

Jordan concluded that Daryl might as well could be.

“About what?” Daryl asked, suspicious. Still, he looked around, pacing slightly. He looked over at Jordan and took note of her grim face this time.

“About Merle,” Shane continued. “There was a… There was a problem in Atlanta.”

“He dead?”

“We’re not sure.”

Daryl frowned, agitated. “He either is or he ain’t!” he argued. 

Rick stepped forwards this time. Jordan crossed her arms, frowning herself. She noticed that he came in from one side, Shane from the other. Like they were planning on caging a wild animal and she was the poor cameraman forced to record instead of in the studio to produce the narration.

“No easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it,” Rick said.

Daryl squinted at the sheriff, looking him up and down. “Who are you?”

“Rick Grimes.”

“Rick Grimes,” Daryl mocked. “You got something you want to tell me?”

“Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal,” Rick said. “He’s still there… possibly with another one of the group.”

That caused Daryl to pause, looking at the newcomer in bewilderment. “Hold on,” he started. “Let me process this. You’re saying you handcuffed my brother to a rood and you left him there?!”

“Yeah.”

Jordan frowned.

Daryl goes on offense, lunging at Rick with curse words on his tongue. Rick, ready for the attack, pushed him back. T-Dog yells something rather unhelpful, and Daryl, taking advantage of the distraction, pulls his knife out. Shane, ignored by then, comes up behind the redneck and puts him in a chokehold. 

“Hey! Watch it!” Jordan couldn’t help but yell, but her words fell on deaf ears.

“You’d best let me go!” Daryl yelled, struggling.

“Nah,” Shane grunted out. “I think it’s better if I don’t.”

Daryl grumbled something Jordan couldn’t hear, and she heard Fabian’s light footsteps heading towards the door. She stepped to the side, watching the door push open and helping the ten year old to the ground. She wanted to stay and continue watching, but knew it wasn’t the right thing to do with a child around. Seeing Lori still there, with Carl who was only a few months younger than Fabian, made her hesitate on leaving. She was no parent, but basic logic told her she shouldn’t be here with young eyes and ears.

“If it’s supposed to make me feel better, it don’t!” Daryl’s growl brought her back. He had gotten out of Shane’s hold but still looked like a kicked chihuahua: ready for murder and pain. 

“Well, maybe this will,” T-Dog countered. “Look, I chained the door to the roof… So the geeks couldn’t get at him. With a padlock. It’s gotta count for something.”

“Hell with all y’all!” Daryl threw a hand in the air as emphasis. “Just tell me where they are so that I can go get them!” 

That caught Jordan’s attention, her ears perking up.

“He’ll show you,” Lori put in, voice shaky, but she followed up quickly with, “Isn’t that right?” She was looking at her recently returned husband. Rick nodded, and Shane looked rather pissed.

A few words were exchanged, quietly amongst the two, but eventually it came out that Rick would go in with Daryl as there were, supposedly, guns and ammunition that were left behind that Shane agreed would be nice to have around camp (Jordan had a hard time agreeing or disagreeing with that. The scare with the walker only half an hour prior terrified her, with it being so close, but at the same time memories of violence that came with guns wouldn’t ease up either). During this, Daryl had stomped away to pack up some more gear and anything else he would need. Jordan scurried after him, leaving Fabian alongside Sophia and the Martinez children while they were looked after by Miranda and Carol.

“What do you want?” Daryl glowered, looking up once Jordan caught up to him. He was sharpening his arrows, quicker than she had seen him do it before. She hoped he wouldn’t cut himself.

“(Y/N)” she started. “She didn’t come back either, I’m sure you noticed.”

“Ye, I noticed,” he said quietly. He didn’t look up again, focused on his task. “I’ll find her too, if that’s wha’ you’re here to nag me about.”

Jordan had so many things prepared, jumbled together, but Daryl took the wind from her sails quicker than she imagined he could.

“Thank you,” she whispered, feeling a little bit of the weight lift from her shoulders. “No one else seemed concerned that she was left behind. I have no doubts she’s with Merle, but if he’s really chained and defenseless, she only has a hammer on her and we barely know how to use it.”

“Even chained, Merle can kick ass,” Daryl stated. “Nothing can kill Merle but Merle. And he likes (Y/N), so unless he’s high off his ass, he ain’t lettin’ anythin’ touch a hair on her head.”

Jordan sighed, feeling lost despite a path slowly clearing. “I hope you’re right, Dixon. I really do.” 

Chapter Text

Chapter 10: The Other Side (Day 60-61)

(Y/N) couldn’t help but stare in shock as T-Dog slammed the roof exit shut behind him. The rattle of a heavy chain came soon after, hitting the door with a thunk as footsteps, hurried, faded away. He had said something, probably an apology among the thousand others that had passed his lips in the chaos that followed Officer Rick Grimes’ arrival, but she was unable to focus on the words. The only sounds she could hear were the hungry growls of the walkers amassing in the streets just outside their temporary safe haven and Merle, who apparently was indeed high off his ass, screaming away for T-Dog, or anyone, to come back and help him. And here she was, frozen, realizing that she too was left behind. 

All she could do was think about how this all came to be.

She had rushed down to the bottom floor as soon as they got Glenn and Sheriff Newbie in, Morales and Andrea being the most vocal in their (mainly the cop’s) stupidity and how they were going to get them killed. At some point, while (Y/N) had left Merle unattended on the roof like an irresponsible parent with a toddler, said Man-Toddler started spewing bullets at the walkers down below. It could have gone better, if Merle didn’t show signs of being higher than the empire state building. After a brawl broke out, Rick Grimes, newly introduced to the small group, cuffed the large man to a pipe and gave the key to T-Dog of all people. One thing led to another, Rick Grimes and Glenn were out in the streets covered in gunk and guts and the building had walkers trying to get in with a fervor never before seen since the beginning of the end. 

Then she was left on the roof, alone, with Merle Dixon who was a raging bull tied to a china shop. At least his stash had been thrown somewhere else and she didn’t have to have him go after the damn thing if they ever got him out of the cuffs.

She felt weak in the knees and finally collapsed to sit down. She was shaking, shivering, despite the heat bearing down on them on the roof. Her backpack was heavy, making the sweat on her back cling to her shirt where the rain didn’t reach. She could feel the small rocks and grooves on the roof digging into her skin through her pants, and the beginnings of tears were pricking at her eyes. 

Thunder rumbled above, agitating the walkers that were still left in the street. She could see the door being pushed, gray and bloody arms reaching through the small gap. (Y/N) couldn’t see any of their faces, but she could smell the rot that lingered on their bodies, even from the distance she was at. 

Merle didn’t seem to be aware of what was happening.

“Bring it on if you’re man enough, or take it up the chain if you’re a pussy!” he slurred, his eyes hazy as he threw his body around as far as it could go while attached to the metal pipe. “You heard me, you pussy-ass noncom bitch. You ain’t deaf. Take it up the damn chain of command or you can kiss my lily-white ass!” He kicked out his foot, as if Rick Grimes was still standing before him. “That’s right. That’s what I said. You heard me. And then this idiot, he takes a swing. You know, and well…” He breaks into hysterical laughter.

(Y/N) was beginning to wonder if Merle was scared or still on whatever drugs he had taken. He continued to ramble about something she couldn’t necessarily grasp (she understood, someone he was fighting, something about teeth) and he kept getting louder every few seconds. Each emphasis he put on his words he pulled on his restraints, the metal digging into his wrist. 

“Oh no. No no! No no! God! God!” he repeated, panicking. It seemed now he saw the walkers at the door, reaching for them as if it would bring (Y/N) and Merle closer. Like an undead Jedi force, that had yet to manifest.

“No, Jesus. Jesus. No no no no no no. Please.” He began crying now. “I didn’t behave, I know. I know I’m being punished. I know. I… Oh, I deserve it. I deserve it. I’ve been bad. Help me now. Show me the way. Go on, tell me what to do. Tell me, God!” 

(Y/N) just continued to watch, numb.

Merle had turned over on his side, now under the pipe as far as the handcuffs would allow him, his belt now suddenly in his hand. He was tossing it at something, dragging it back before reeling it back out. It was like he didn’t register that (Y/N) was still with him on the roof, not that she was helping him much anyways. She didn’t necessarily have the key to the cuffs either. If she was in charge of it, it wouldn’t have fallen down the damn drain (T-Dog had shown her that he had slippery fingers when nervous, and if she ever saw him again, she’d make it known that she wouldn’t trust him with anything valuable when it came to sticky situation such as this in the future). 

Merle was still talking to himself, and with each word it felt like the walkers on the other side of the door were getting more and more crazed to reach them. It was making (Y/N)’s anxiety rise, yet she still felt stuck, not doing anything. 

At some point he managed to drag something closer to him and he shouted in glee. The walkers were egged on to push against the door even more. Their moans were grating on (Y/N)’s ears.

Merle sat up as best as he could and began to move his other arm in a flurry of movement. A metallic grinding sound brought (Y/N) back to the world of the living. She took in a large gulp of air, finally feeling like she was in her body, her lungs aching with the lack of substantial air. Black flurries dotted her vision for a few moments, and she did her best to blink them away as fast as she could. 

Eventually, the grinding came to a stop, and it was quickly followed with a grunt, a curse, and then a squelch. One that sounded very meaty, and a grunt of pain came from Merle’s lips quickly after. 

(Y/N) jumped up, rushing to Merle to see, actually see this time as she was too far and he was hiding the front of his body from her, what was going on. What she was seeing made her sick. 

The blonde man had found a saw. Dale’s tool bag was on the other side of the pipe, spilled open, and with his belt, Merle brought it over. 

The metallic grinding? The saw on the handcuffs.

The meaty squish? Merle realized it was futile and his hand would be easier to cut through.

She didn’t hesitate slapping it out of Merle’s hand. It wasn’t the smartest choice, it continued to cut into his wrist, but it skittered away on the rocks, far enough that Merle couldn’t reach it again without his belt. 

“What do you think you’re doing, bitch?!” Merle growled, pain and panic in his eyes.

“What do you think you’re doing?!” (Y/N) freaked out. “Jesus fucking Christ, you’re a child in a man’s body!” She threw off her backpack, grabbing the first thing once it was opened. She grabbed it, along with a screw driver that was, luckily, and started to apply pressure on his wound. It was bleeding profusely, and with a pair of shorts, she tied it around the shirt she had grabbed and placed on the wound. She debated about making a tourniquet with the screwdriver, but put the tool in her back pocket, just in case. It didn’t seem like the blood was pooling out too quickly, and they wouldn’t need to apply new bandages until he bled through what he already had on.

“I’m trying to get out of here alive,” he said, slurring his speech. 

“You’re only going to get yourself killed at this rate,” (Y/N) retorted.

“Didnae see you comin’ up with any bright ideas.” He glowered up at her, eyes an icy blue. If the threat of walkers weren’t pushing up against their only line of defense behind him, she would’ve considered him on her list of Scary Things. But she was a teacher before the world turned to shit and kids could be scarier than any chained up adult. 

“Excuse me for not throwing a fit when I’ve been left behind by people I thought were on my side,” she argued back. “Not all of us like throwing tantrums.”

“Not doin’ shit,” he grumbled, though his head slumped forwards. 

“Yeah, tell that to your mutilated hand.”

“Had worse happen before all this shit.”

Rolling her eyes, she double checked the tightness of her makeshift bandage, glad to see very little blood seeping through the shirt (a damn shame, it was a cute shirt. It wouldn’t have fit her, maybe one of the little girls, but a damn shame either way). 

“Let’s figure out a different way, now that I’m actually here,” she said, taking a look at the handcuffs.

“Unless you suddenly have a key in that bag o’ yours, ain’t nothing getting through that metal.” Merle was sounding more aware, most likely due to the pain of sawing through skin and muscle, but some of his words were still a bit slurred. (Y/N) had no idea how long his drug was supposed to last, or any drug for that matter past over the counter pain medication, and hoped that he was at least aware enough to help them get off the roof in one piece. 

She shook her head. “I don’t have anything but clothes and bathroom supplies,” she answered. “Stuff to smell nice, mostly, a few hair access….” she trailed off, an idea forming in her head.

“Do you know how to unlock a lock with a bobby pin?” she asked. Merle squinted at her. The sun was back in full force, shining down on the rooftops of Atlanta with renewed fury, and it shined directly on Merle’s reddening face. Despite the cracking on his lips, he gave a full tooth grin.

“Of course, sugar,” he drawled, acting almost like himself. “Give it to me and I’ll get it done.”

***

When Daryl saw the blood on the roof, with the lack of his brother nor his (friend? Acquaintance? Tolerable companion?) brother’s new buddy, he felt like the world had stopped. He had lost all hope, feeling worthless as he had come to this wasteland of a city to get two people that were probably more important than a guy who used to arrest people for a living (in his opinion of course. (Y/N) had taken to helping keep the kids at camp updated on where they should be learning, which he figured even without a school system in place at the moment, being illiterate in this new world would be more life threatening than one who could actually read). 

He felt a surge of anger rise within him, directed towards the one person who was liable for any harm that came upon them, and within seconds he had his crossbow pointed towards T-Dog, who looked more nervous than he did last night. 

A click of a gun, too close to his ear, prevented him from firing a freshly sharpened bolt into T-Dog’s skull.

“I won’t hesitate,” Rick Grimes said, voice even. “I don’t care if every walker in the city hears it.”

Daryl lowered his weapon. Rick did the same, once he felt that Daryl wasn’t as volatile. 

“I don’t understand,” Glenn said, looking around the empty roof. “If they were here when we left, why aren’t they here now?”

“They left,” Daryl grunted. It was fairly obvious, since their bodies weren’t anywhere on the roof and they didn’t encounter any version of them down at the store. The matter of where they went was the true question.

Daryl, always the hunter, looked at the scene more closely. The handcuffs, sunlight glinting off the warm metal, were still hanging from the pipe, one side open. However, there were rocks just below covered in dried blood, dark brown. He grabbed the cuffs, moving the open end closer to inspect, and noticed that there was also blood on the cuffs, though it was smeared. A bobby pin was still stuck inside the small key hole.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Rick said from over his shoulder. The former cop had noticed the hairpin as well. “I gotta say, for an asshole he’s resourceful.” 

“Merle ain’t got anythin’ useful in his pockets except drugs anymore,” Daryl commented. “(Y/N) must’ve had the thing on her.”

“The only question is where they could have gone,” Rick pondered aloud. Daryl silently agreed and looked around the roof. T-Dog and Glenn had shuffled closer but still looked fairly nervous. He couldn’t guess as to why, since there were no walkers up here and doubt there’d be any coming up to join them any time soon.

He spotted a trail of blood, though it was very faint.

Bingo.

It led them around the roof access, finding another door which had been propped open. It was quiet inside, which didn’t say much as it’s been mostly quiet since they came into the city. Daryl led them further in, towards a staircase that must’ve been used as another roof access for the building, possibly for another business attached, but Daryl didn’t really care.

“Merle! (Y/N)! You in here?!” he called out, voice echoing in the stairwell. No answer, yet they continued to climb down, until they made it to the next floor. It was some kind of office building, possibly for law as there were a series of thick bound books with small gold print on the spines, and even Daryl could tell that these books held words that would make even Shane Walsh groan. 

Silently creeping forwards, he spots a walker with messy hair. It was beginning to turn around, its jaw missing, and Daryl didn’t hesitate to shoot an arrow straight through. It fell, blood pooling under it. 

They stepped over its body, Glenn making a point to go around it, and went into a hallway. Soon it was Daryl and Rick in the front, with Glenn in the middle and T-Dog bringing up the rear. They began heading towards another office area, finding bodies of walkers, two of them dressed in fancy work clothes, on the floor.

“Had enough in them to take out these two sumbitches.” Daryl motions towards the dead walkers. “Probably one handed too. Toughest asshole I’ve ever met, my brother. Feed him a hammer, he’d crap out nails.”

“(Y/N) couldn’t have done this?” Rick asks.

“Woman couldn’t handle skinning what we got from huntin’,” Daryl answered. “No way she’d be able to hand takin’ down two walkers.” 

The trail of blood was thinning, but there were two sets of bloody footprints following after the second downed walker. They followed, and it led to a small kitchen area in the back of the building. 

“Merle!” Daryl called out again. “(Y/N)!”

“We’re not alone here, remember?” Rick softly admonished. 

“Screw that,” Daryl muttered. “He could be bleeding out. Or it’s (Y/N) that’s bleeding out, though I doubt it.. Merle ain’t no medic, he can only do bandaids anymore.” 

Another turn, deeper into the breakroom they appear to now be in, and they come across a stove, still lit. A pile of bloody clothes were next to it, as well as an open (and now empty) first aid kit. A piece of metal was next to the stove, and Rick picked it up, looking underneath. It was cool to the touch. 

“What’s the burned stuff?” Daryl asks.

“Skin,” he answers. “They cauterize something.” 

Glenn looked pretty sick at the thought, looking away from the crime scene

“Told you he was tough. Nobody can kill Merle but Merle.”

“Don’t take that on faith,” Rick said. “That’s a lot of blood.” He pointed to the clothes still on the counter. They were obviously used as a makeshift bandage. 

“Didn’t stop them from busting out of this death trap,” Daryl argued, beginning to walk away and towards a set of windows. One of them was broken. 

Glenn looked at him in shock as the rest followed. “They left the building? (Y/N) went with him willingly? Why the hell would they do that?”

Daryl felt frustration slowly building up. Had been, since they started this whole ordeal. He knew Merle wasn’t a saint, far from it, but he wasn’t stupid. He had no doubts that with (Y/N) with him, Merle was making better choices than if he were by himself. Unless, Merle lost (Y/N) along the way somehow. 

“Why wouldn’t they? They’re out there alone, as far as they know, doing what they got to do. Surviving.”

T-Dog looked appalled. He pointed to the broken shards and the window as he spoke. “You call that surviving? Just wandering out in the streets, maybe passing out? What are they’re odds out there, if (Y/N)’s the only one awake enough to get them to another safe spot?”

“No worse than being handcuffed and left to rot by you sorry pricks,” Daryl snapped. Glenn and T-Dog had the awareness to look a little guilty. “You couldn’t kill him. Ain’t so worried about some dumb dead bastard getting to either of them.”

“What about one thousand dead dumb bastards? Different story?” Rick brought up. Daryl responded none too kindly, and moved to go around, but Rick put a hand to his chest, preventing the hunter from going. He took offense, riled up and Rick began to try and placate the other man. 

“I don’t blame you,” he began. “He’s family, I get that. I went through hell to find mine. I know exactly how you feel. He can’t get far, he has someone with him he needs to look out after if what you’re telling me is true. We could help you check a few blocks around, but only if we keep a level head.”

Daryl gave a look, less hostile. “I could do that.”

“Only if we get those guns first,” T-Dog brought up. “I’m not strolling the streets of Atlanta with just my good intentions, okay?”

***

It had all gone to shit. Getting the guns cost them losing Glenn to a bunch of random people in a nondescript car. Luckily, they had one of their people with them they could use to barter. But it still didn’t look good to either of them. Sure they had the guns now, the one Rick had brought with him from his sheriff’s office all the back in Kentucky, but they had some kid, no Glenn, and still no whereabouts of where Merle and (Y/N) had gone, as there had been very little sign of them on the way to where Rick had dropped his loot.

Now they had the kid alone in a building nearby, cleared of walkers, and were interrogating him on where Glenn was. What turned into a rescue mission for two now is a rescue mission for three. It was getting way too frustrating.

“Those men you were with,” Rick said, “we need to know where they went.” He was looking down at the kid, who was sitting behind a desk while the others stood around him. Rick was leaning against it, playing good cop. 

Daryl was pacing in the small space, clearly agitated. “I told you, this little turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me.”

“You’re the one who jumped me , puto,” the kid said. “Screaming about trying to find his brother like it’s my damn fault.”

“They took Glenn. Could’ve taken Merle and (Y/N) too,” Daryl reasoned.

The kid chuckled, amused despite the clear danger that was hiding behind Daryl’s icy blue eyes. “Merle? What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn’t name my dog Merle.”

The hunter goes to kick the kid, still clearly pissed off, but Rick stood up and held him back, telling him to back off. He does so, but instead goes to T-Dog’s bag, taking something out wrapped in blue fabric.

He slams it on the table, the rag opening and revealing a rotting hand. He had grabbed it off, after they knocked the kid around, from one of the dead walkers they took down before Glenn was taken. It had already fallen off once the walker collapsed to the ground, and he took it on a whim. 

“Want to see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?” he threatened, leaning forwards to intimidate the kid even further. It works, as the kid begins to freak out and try to move away from the hand. “Start with the feet this time,” he continues, taking a step forward before Rick holds him back again. He felt like a chained dog, and it angered him. But he listened anyway, as much as he didn’t want to. 

“The men you were with took our friend,” Rick takes the lead of the good cop once more. “All we want to do is talk to them, see if we can work something out.”

The kid spills like a hose with a leak.

It didn’t take long to find where his group was hiding soon after. The kid, now named Miguel, is put in front of them, threatened nicely by Daryl that if he did anything stupid, he’d know what it feels like to be shot in the ass with an arrow.

The meeting did not go as well as they had hoped, their leader Guillermo was leaning hard on his demands, but they knew that Glenn was at last still alive. The downside? Giving up some of their weapons and ammo to get him back in the first place, along with their own hostage. T-Dog and Daryl, for once, were on the same side.

“Them guns are worth more than gold,” Daryl argued. “Gold won’t protect your family or put food on the table. You’re gonna give that up for that kid?”

“If I knew we’d get Glenn back, I might agree. But you think that Vato across the way is just gonna hand him over?” T-Dog questioned. 

Miguel gave them an annoyed look. “You calling G a liar?”

“Are you part of this?” Daryl asked back, getting into the kid’s space. “You want to hold onto your teeth?” He slaps the kid, not feeling satisfied enough afterwards.

“Question is, do you trust that man’s word,” T-Dog added.

“No,” Daryl said. “Question is what are you willing to bet on it? Could be more than them guns. Could be your life.” He looked at Rick, frowning. “Glenn worth that to you?”

Rick was stern, unmoving on the matter. “What life I have I owe to him,” he says. “I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn’t. Neither will I.”

The discussion was cut short after that. As a group, they still went back, with half the guns in the bag and Miguel still as their hostage. None were happy, but it was better than nothing in getting Glenn back, without harm. 

Guillermo met them just like last time with men still behind him, this time Rick got them inside the building instead of outside in the open. 

“I see my guns but they’re not all in the bag.” Guillermo sounded disappointed, like a father towards his offspring. He wasn’t amused at seeing the bag the way it was.

Rick stood his ground. “That’s because they’re not yours. I thought I mentioned that.”

One of the men behind Guillermo took a step forward, aiming the gun in his hands at Rick and his group. “Let’s just shoot these fools now, ese. All right? Unload on their asses, ese!”

Guillermo holds a hand up but continues to speak to Rick. Both sides begin a game of intimidation, a war of words and threats that slowly build as time continues to pass. Eventually, it leads to guns (and a crossbow) being cocked in both directions, words no longer holding anything substantial to either side now that they were getting to a stalemate that neither side liked. 

Before anyone could shoot, an elderly woman comes shuffling out, calling for one of the larger men. The man, Felipe as he was called by the woman, doesn’t look away from Rick, Daryl or T-Dog as he speaks to her.

“Abuela, go back with the others… now,” he said firmly.

Daryl orders, “Get that old lady out of the line of fire!”

The leader of the Vatos now tries to take control. “Abuela, listen to your mijo, okay? This is not the place for you right now.” He put a reassuring hand on the old woman’s shoulder, trying to usher her out of the room and back to where she came from, to her safety. 

She refused to go, gripping onto Guillermo’s shirt. “Mr. Gilbert is having trouble breathing. He needs his asthma stuff. Carlitos didn’t find it. He needs his medicine.” She put heavy emphasis on the last part, placing pressure on the other men in the room. 

Guillermo turns to Felipe, giving out an order. “Go take care of it, okay? And take your grandmother with you.”

Felipe says something to the woman, his grandmother, in Spanish, trying to lead the smaller woman away from Rick’s group. She seemed distracted, now realizing that Guillermo and her grandson weren’t necessarily alone, and noticed Rick’s uniform. 

“Don’t you take him!” she begged. Rick gave a confused response. “Felipe’s a good boy. He has his trouble but he pulls himself together. We need him here,” she continues. 

“Ma’am, I’m not here to arrest your grandson.”

“Then what do you want him for?” She was more confused.

“He’s… helping us find a missing person,” Rick answered. He was no longer alluding a hostile attitude. He was just as confused as everyone else. “Fella named Glenn.”

The woman’s eyes brightened. “The Asian boy?” she asked. Rick nodded as she continued, “He’s with Mr. Gilbert. Come. Come, I’ll show you.” She takes Rick’s hand and leads him to the main building. With little resistance, they follow. T-Dog and Daryl put away their weapons, as do the Vatos and Guillermo, Felipe with his grandmother at the front as she leads Rick inside. 

There, inside a gymnasium, they see a group of elderly people, many in wheelchairs or with walkers. Some had oxygen tanks on the floor besides them as they crowded around a man who was having difficulty breathing. Besides him was Glenn, who was trying his best to help the man, who must have been Mr. Gilbert, to calm down enough and take in some air. 

The Vatos, it seemed, weren’t a gang that managed to survive past an outbreak of the undead, but rather a group that were protecting those that no longer had the physical strength to do that themselves. Their intimidation act had been a ruse, one that they had easily fallen for, but in a world where one seemed to fend for themselves, any stranger was just that, a stranger. 

“What the hell is this?” Rick asks, once he had wrapped his head around what he had been seeing.

“An asthma attack,” Glenn answered. Felipe was administering Mr. Gilbert’s albuterol. “Couldn’t get his breath all of a sudden.”

T-Dog drooped his shoulders down, relieved. “I thought you were being eaten by dogs, man,” he said, recalling the sounds of barking merely hours before.

Glenn looked over to the side and T-Dog followed. Sitting just a few feet away were two chihuahuas. 

“Could I have a word with you?” Rick asked, and led Guillermo away, leaving Daryl, T-Dog and Glenn by themselves. 

Glenn took this to his advantage, a grin now gracing his features. “You really thought there were dogs in here, eating me?”

“If our roles were reversed, you’d think the same,” T-Dog said exasperated.

“If our roles were reversed, you’d be surprised at what you saw coming in in the first place,” Glenn countered.

“What do you mean?” 

“Come,” Glenn said. He gestured for the other two to follow. He gave a few polite nods towards the others who were now relaxing that Mr. Gilbert was going to be okay, he took them further back, but still within eyesight of Rick who was berating the Vatos leader. “You won’t ever guess who I happened to find here.”

“I think at this point in my life I’d be surprised to find a real life Elmo walking around,” T-Dog laughed. He felt more relaxed than he had since yesterday, but not by much. “Surely you didn’t find some celebrity here?”

“Better.”

“Who could be bett-- Holy shit.” T-Dog stood, shocked and in disbelief. Daryl, who was looking around, both for escape routes and possible advantage points in the room, glanced forwards quickly and had to take a double take, mouth slightly open.

Laying on a cot, an ace bandage around his right wrist, was Merle fucking Dixon. He was moaning and growling at the woman who stood next to him, arms crossed and a frown on her face. She had her hair up and away from her face, eyes glaring daggers as she stood her ground in a no-nonsense pose. 

“Merle?” Daryl called out. 

This caused the older Dixon to stop complaining, sitting up, glare relaxing into a grin, and he was up and prowling over to give his little brother a hug. “My goodness, if it ain’t Darylina,” he guffawed, giving a slap to Daryl’s shoulder and then bringing him into a hug with one arm. “Didn’t think you’d let yourself be dragged all the way here to a nursing home, you’re not that old.”

“Yeah, that’s why you’re here, asshole,” a new voice piped up. “You’re basically an old man.”

(Y/N) had followed Merle closely, arms crossed and (E/C) still blazing with disappointment but she gave the trio a happy grin. 

“When Glenn said you were in Atlanta, I didn’t think you’d find us so soon,” she continued. “Not that I’m not happy you’re here, but I figured it would take longer for anyone to find us, if they tried at all.”

“They were insistent on finding you,” Glenn told her. 

“It’s my fault any of this happened,” T-Dog said, finally finding his voice. “I didn’t think you were still on the roof. I’m sorry. I don’t think I can apologize enough.”

“It’s fine,” (Y/N) waved off. “I mean, I’m still pissed, but I’m just glad that I can at least go back to Fabian soon. I didn’t think I’d be away for this long, even if I did get to sleep on something that resembled a bed for the first time in weeks.”

“How did you get here anyways?” T-Dog asked. 

“That’s a story,” (Y/N) said. “Definitely a story. But I think we can tell it as soon as we get back on the road to camp. I liked the cot, but I can’t stand being around anyone coughing anymore.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 11: Wait and See (Day {60} 61)

(Y/N) had pulled Merle up onto his feet as soon as he was released from his shackles. His arm was still bleeding badly, and with a grunt she began trying to lead the larger man further away from the walkers pushing themselves against the wall. They were snarling, alarmed as their meal was beginning to walk away, and they began to push against the door with a fervor. Despite Merle’s awareness coming back, panic receding and they now had a plan, he was still uneven on his feet. Most of the steering was (Y/N)’s job, as his bloody arm was slung over her shoulders. She had wrapped it as tight as she could with the clothes, but some of the blood seeped through and was beginning to stain her shirt. Every training she had of blood pathogens rushed through her mind, but despite feeling pretty green around the gills about it, she pushed it back and focused on trying to get them out of the situation Merle had put them into (because honestly, who shoots a gun for fun in a city full of walkers?).

Luckily there was another door, unlocked, and they made it down the stairs pretty easily. The office they came into was quiet, and she handed Merle her hammer.

“What’s this for?” he asked.

“Shotgun’s gotta do something other than just looking pretty,” she replied. 

Her point was made rather quickly, as a walker showed up and lunged at them. Merle swung, out of instinct, and the claw hit the walker’s skull with a dull thunk. It reminded (Y/N) of hitting a watermelon with a wooden stick. 

Merle wiggled the handle, nearly taking both of them to the ground, but they managed to get it out without much issue. A few steps later and another showed up, popping around a reception desk. This time they were prepared.

“Gotta find somewhere to take better care of this,” (Y/N) whispered. She looked down to see her shirt covered in more blood. “I don’t think you’re going to feel well if we don’t at least try and clot the blood more than we have.”

Merle pointed her hammer towards another room. “Looks like a kitchen,” he said, starting to pull them in that direction. There weren’t any more walkers that popped out, which (Y/N) was thankful for, and she helped Merle sit down at the table before she rooted around as quietly as possible to look for an actual first aid kid. Merle leant back in the chair, looking pale despite his sunburnt skin. His eyes were half-mast, a little hazy, as he tracked (Y/N)’s quiet shuffling. She pulled out a few pots from the shelves, an iron (which she thought was rather odd) and finally, a first aid kit. 

One that was devoid of most things they would need. All that was left was a few bandaid wrappers, a cloth wrap, and a half opened roll of gauze. 

“Shit,” she said, but she brought it out anyway. “I was kind of hoping for a needle and thread or a giant ass bandaid. I could at least sew it closed, even if it’s a cloth needle.”

“Nah, that’ll hurt like a bitch,” Merle moaned. He pointed towards the stove. “See if that thing can start. We’ll do it old fashioned style.”

“What now?”

“If that thing can work, heat up the end of the iron and just stick it on,” Merle stated. With his focus now on her, she could see the haze clearing slightly from the blue of his eyes. She hoped that was a good sign that he was sobering up, even a little. “Gonna hurt just as bad, but it’s faster.”

“What if it attracts more of those things?” she asked. “I don’t think--”

“It won’t, sugar,” he cut in. “Just do it.”

“...And then we cauterized it, went out the window and managed to get to the street fairly quickly after that,” (Y/N) said. They were walking towards the camp, only a mile or so away. Daryl was helping Merle in the back from tripping, his arm wrapped in fresh gauze with the help of one of the nurses from the nursing home. The van the men had driven down here had been gone when they got back, and (Y/N) was a little disappointed that she couldn’t sit down. The sun was still hot, even though she knew it was October, and it was making her shirt (new, given to her by one of the women at the nursing home) feel sticky.

 “Merle nearly passed out in an alley, but we got into some kind of garden when Mr. Guillermo found us. Scared the shit out of me, honestly, thought they were gonna shoot us. I think they took pity on us since Merle was clearly incapacitated.”

“I still can’t believe we managed to find you at all,” Glenn said. He had been listening attentively to her recounting of their survival. “Honestly, figured there’d be nothing but a hand or a dead body left up there.”

(Y/N) gave a tired, weak smile. “If I wasn’t there, there probably would have been.” She shook her head, grimacing at the memory. “Anyways, I’m just glad there was someone there to even help us at all, that we didn’t get jumped by anyone or anything worse. They looked at Merle’s arm and everything, gave us some food and let us stay the night. We would’ve come back to camp as soon as possible, given everyone we left there.”

“Jordan and Fabian are gonna be so psyched to see you,” Glenn said. (Y/N) gave a smile, eyes softening as she thought of her best friend and her son. She regrets ever coming on this stupid errand. A birthday present wasn’t as important as making sure her son was safe. “It’s a shame we lost the van so soon, it would've made us get there faster.”

“I hope whoever took it thought it was abandoned,” (Y/N) agreed. “If not, I hope karma bites them in the ass.”

It was getting dark, making it harder to see roots and hidden rocks as they made their climb. Merle was getting crabby, all the way in the back. His high had worn off in the night and reality was getting too hard and boring for the man. He was also pissed that (Y/N) had gone through his pockets while he was sleeping and thrown out anything that wasn’t needed. He couldn’t deny her reasoning, but he had earned what was left in there.

Rick looked like he was regretting finding them. He now had a hat, one (Y/N) didn’t remember him having the day before, as well as a bag that Glenn informed them was full of guns and ammunition. He was cordial when they finally spoke, apologizing, though it seemed it was mainly for her. She waved him off (though part of it was indeed his fault, most was on Merle for attracting the things closer to them). He seemed to let (Y/N) and Daryl take charge in getting Merle to shut up. 

On the way out of Atlanta, Glenn and T-Dog caught her and Merle up on what had happened in camp the afternoon before after she told them their side of the journey. Her heart broke when they told her how upset Fabian had been.

It was dark when they started nearing camp. She could barely see the path, hardly recognizable (not that she would be able to anyways, she never left the camp outside of helping with chores). She was now in the back, in charge of Merle once again as Daryl walked in front of them with his crossbow slung across his back. Rick and Glenn were leading them, T-Dog in the middle of them all. 

“Alright, let's step it up, we’re almost there,” Rick says, and they begin to jog on the grassy hill. (Y/N) groaned, earning herself a snort from Merle who rolled his eyes and looked ready to snap something back at the sheriff before (Y/N) jabbed a finger harshly into his side. He hissed, glaring at her.

“Let’s not start anything now that they made it a mission to come and get you,” she hissed back. “You can whine all you want after a night's sleep in your own tent, but until then, zip it.”

“I’m getting real tired of hearin’ you admonish me, princess,” he growled back.

“Wow, didn’t think you knew that word,” she responded sarcastically. He didn’t respond but began to follow the rest of the group after he saw Daryl look back at the two of them. (Y/N) held on to Merle’s shirt so as not to get lost in the dark, tripping a few times as her foot hit an old mole hill. 

A scream sounded through the forest, causing them all to pause. Gunshots echoed after. 

“Oh my god,” Rick said, and Glenn urged them to go faster. Now going at a run, they race up the hill, nearing camp and seeing the campfires flames more clearly.

It was complete chaos.

Walkers were all over the place. The people with guns were shooting at walkers, a few of the others grabbing a few things to try and beat the walkers away as others did their best to run or be out of the line of fire. (Y/N) anxiously searched the panicking crowd for her family, still clinging onto Merle as he led the both of them towards the camp. 

The first thing she saw was Andrea hovering over someone, blood pooling on the ground. Jim was near her, hitting at walkers. Morales was running to the RV with his children and wife, Lori and Carl hovering behind Shane who was shooting at any walker that was nearby. There she was able to see Jordan and her son, who were with the Grimes family. Jordan had pushed (Y/N)’s son behind her, and he was clinging to her. (Y/N) couldn’t see his face, but didn’t need to to know he was scared.

Rick, Glenn, T-Dog and Daryl started shooting as they got closer. They got the walkers that were at the back of the pack, helping clear their part of the quarry as they got closer to camp. Merle wasn’t given a gun, and (Y/N) only had her hammer. She did manage to hit one, getting them in the back of the head with the claw of her weapon. She wasn’t as strong as Merle, but she got it down with one hit and the second managed to pierce the brain. She didn’t think as she rushed forward. The only thought was getting to her son and making sure he was safe.

She dodged a few grabbing hands, nearly bumped into a woman she didn’t remember the name of, and just kept going. It felt like she was running in slow motion. A gunshot whizzed past her shoulder and she jumped, tripping and falling onto the ground. 

A walker nearby lunged in her direction and (Y/N) surged up as fast as she could, her hammer waving at it to try and keep it away. She managed to graze its shoulder, her swing not high enough and bouncing off, before it was pushed to the ground by Merle. He had followed her in her pursuit to her family. He stood over it, grabbed the hammer from her hand and swung down before the monster could get back up.

It was dead within seconds.

Then it was silent.

With no more walkers, the survivors surged up and began to take count of who was still alive. (Y/N) felt something hit her side. Looking down she saw Fabian, face buried into her side. Another pair of arms wrapped around her shoulders and Jordan was hugging her from behind. 

(Y/N) slumped forwards, wrapping her arms around her son as her legs gave out from under her, all energy leaving her body. She could feel her arms shaking and she wasn’t sure if it was from her or her son. Jordan crouched next to them, whispering words like “thank god” and “you’re still here, you’re still alive.”

Merle still stood besides the three of them, looking at them with an odd look in his eyes, (Y/N)’s hammer still in his hand with black blood dripping onto the grass.

Chapter Text

Chapter 12: Sorrows (Day 62)

At some point, (Y/N) fell asleep. It wasn’t easy. Despite being back at camp, seeing that her family was fine, she could still hear screaming. Her ears were still ringing from the gunshots that echoed across the quarry, could still hear the growls and snarls of the walkers, could still feel the fear of losing her son, her best friend, more of her family. It was when her eyes snapped open as sunlight streamed through her tent that she realized that she had fallen asleep at all.

Fabian was curled into her side. He hadn’t let go of her at all. His hand was gripping her shirt tightly, despite how relaxed his face was in sleep. Jordan was laying awake beside her. She looked over once (Y/N) started to move around.

“I’m glad you coming back wasn’t a dream,” she said.

“Me too,” (Y/N) agreed.

“What exactly happened? You being left behind and all.”

So (Y/N) told her all that she could. She kept it brief, keeping the extra gorey parts to herself, and at the end Jordan looked more relaxed than she did before.

“I’m glad what Daryl told me was true,” Jordan said, once (Y/N) finished. 

The (H/C) haired woman quirked an eyebrow. “What?”

“I was gonna ask him to find you too,” she explained. “But he beat me to it. Said Merle liked you enough that he wouldn’t let you get hurt.”

(Y/N) snorted, more annoyed than amused. “Dude was practically high off his ass for most of it. I think letting him have something to do let him actually focus on smth other than being doped up from head to toe. If anything, I saved his ass from losing his arm.”

“You said a swear,” a voice filled with sleep said on her other side. Fabian blinked blurrily up at his mother, green eyes struggling to stay open. “Twice. You owe fifty cents.”

“Just add it to the tab, Bumblebee.”

***

(Y/N)’s first job that morning was sorting through what could be saved and what couldn’t. Most of the stuff she brought back was still fine. The Peltiers didn’t have much to begin with, most of it was Ed’s, who apparently was the first victim of the sudden hoard. His blood covered most of their things. Carol and Sophia had stayed in the RV for the rest of the night with Dale. (Y/N) took the clothes that weren’t too blood soaked and put it in a pile to be washed with some others. Fabian sat beside her as she worked, the figurine she gave him that morning resting in one hand while the other fiddled with a pencil while he tried to do some math problems she wrote out for him.

Jordan was tasked to help clean up the camp. She mainly stuck to cleaning clothes, wiping down tents and keeping an eye on the other children, even though their own mothers were also nearby.

Merle grumbled as he was ordered to help with the clean up. No one, other than Daryl, was happy to see the older Dixon alive. T-Dog was especially jumpy, and Shane seemed to glower at him whenever he happened to catch sight of the man. (Y/N) knew Merle was a hard man to like, but she figured Ed Peltier was a worse man than Merle. Since Ed was dead, completely eaten through as walker chow, there was now a new target for Shane’s ire.

When she was done sorting through the piles of stuff (some of which belonged to survivors she barely knew, who had died during the attack) she wandered over to take a break in the shade. Fabian followed closely after.

Glenn and T-Dog were throwing bodies of the walkers into a large fire. The smoke was putrid and off putting, but it had to be done, (Y/N) supposed. She watched as Daryl walked nearby, swinging a pickaxe into the skulls of the bodies that still littered the camp. Merle trailed after him, picking one end of the walker and dragging it away to be tossed into the fire. 

(Y/N)’s eyes tracked towards the remaining walkers. There seemed to still be dozens that needed to be taken care of. She was still shocked that so many made it so close to their camp and she wasn’t even sure how they were able to find them.

A few walkers closer to the edge of the tree line caught her eye and she wandered over to take a look. It was so strange to see them, “alive” or not. Their skin was so pale, almost to the point of looking gray. Eyes were staring up, clouded over. And familiar. 

This was (Y/N)’s mother. It was hard to tell what she had been wearing, most of it torn and falling apart. But she knew that face, and had known it for all her life. She had yet to be taken care of by the Dixon brothers, but she could almost think that her mother was just lying down in the shade of a tree, waiting for (Y/N) and Fabian to show up and take her back home while cloud gazing if it weren’t for the large chunk of skull and (H/C) hair missing from just behind her left temple. She glanced at the other walkers that were taken down near her mother’s corpse and felt more of her world fall apart, as only feet away, with an arm missing, was her father. He was lying face down in the dirt, but his head was turned and she could see an eye had popped out at some point, the (E/C) misted over with death and decay, a gunshot wound just above his eyebrow. 

She felt sick. She wanted to hurl, but instead she chose to sit. 

Something wet hit her hands and the world rushed back to her and she couldn’t hold back the wail that came out of her lips. She couldn’t stop looking at her mother, her father, turned monster before she could ever tell them that she loved them for the last time. Someone touched her shoulder and she jerked away, trying to crawl closer to her dad, her mom, wanting to touch them but couldn’t bring herself to feel the coldness of their skin. Tears were running down her cheeks as she sobbed, fighting against the hands that kept trying to pull her back. She could hear someone calling her name (“Momma! Momma! Let me go, why is she crying ?!”) before a pair of arms wrapped around her middle and pulled her away. 

(Y/N) kicked and wailed, trying to pry the arms off her. She wanted to go back, she needed to go back. She couldn’t leave them, she already did that once, and now they were gone. 

“No! No!” she cried, clawing at the arms. The further they got from her parents' corpses the more she struggled. She couldn’t see anymore, her vision blurry, but all she could focus on were the bodies that were still lying there, waiting for her and Fabian. 

Eventually she was pushed into a tent, sat on the ground, and Merle’s face suddenly blocked her vision. His whole body was blocking the exit, and despite his injury, it seemed all too easy for him to block her from clawing her way back. 

“Easy there, sugar,” he said, holding her back. “There ain’t nothin’ you can do no more for them.”

“I have to be there!” she cried out. “I promised them. I told them I’d be there! I told Fabian we’d be there!”

“And you were,” he said. 

“I wasn’t,” (Y/N) sobbed. “I was too late!”

“And you knew they were probably dead.”

“Not like this,” she said, curling up on the ground. “Never like this.”

“There ain’t nothin’ that can prepare ya from seein’ somethin’ like that,” Merle said. He sat on the ground, still blocking the exit, but no longer trying to push (Y/N) back into the tent. “But we can bury them, hold a vigil or whatever. That mechanic guy dug holes while we were gone, I bet he has two more.”

(Y/N) didn’t respond, couldn’t, as words clogged themselves in her throat and all that came out was sound. Merle didn’t seem to mind, merely sitting and keeping the (H/C) haired woman company as she began to grieve. At some point, another body joined her, smaller and familiar, and she heard Jordan’s voice but didn’t recognize any of the words. 

She didn’t know how long she was in the tent, nor when exactly Fabian joined her, but she gained some sense of clarity when she felt the afternoon rays of the sun hit her face. Merle had moved, gotten comfortable just outside the tent but was close enough that she could hear everything he said or did. Her throat hurt and her mouth felt like she had cotton stuffed to the back of her throat. Her eyes were itchy and swollen, and her lower back ached like a son of a bitch. 

“ ‘erle?” 

“Back with us, princess?”

“... I want to bury them.”

“I’ll be sure to tell ‘em.”

“... Thank you… for helping.”

“I figured I should probably help the only other person besides my dear baby brother that’s saved my ass more than once. No one else was trying very hard. ‘Specially Deputy Dickwad.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the small smile that cracked itself on her face. It felt foreign, tight. “I don’t think Shane likes being called that.”

Merle barked out a laugh. “I don’t care what tha’ piece of shit thinks. Don’t think he’s gonna be top dog for much longer anyways.”

(Y/N) slowly sat up, a groan leaving her lips as she realized how badly her lower back now hurt. Her legs felt numb, no doubt they had fallen asleep. Her movement got Fabian up, who had fallen into a light sleep as he did his best to comfort his mother, and he seemed glad to see her no longer so upset. That sent a wave of guilt crashing into her. She felt like the worst mother possible. In a span of three days she has neglected her child more than she ever had in the six years she’s had him. 

“Are you feeling better, Momma?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said, pulling him close into a hug. Merle got up with a loud groan, purposefully popping his back before loudly wandering off, leaving the two alone. “I’m sorry you had to see that. I’m sorry that I haven’t been taking better care of you and leaving you in Aunt Jordan’s care all the time these last few days too. I’m slacking on my responsibilities, huh?”

Fabian gave a shrug, but continued to keep his arms around his mother. “Stuff happens,” he finally said. “You can be sad, too. You’re the one always telling me that big feelings sometimes come with crying, and it’s okay to cry.

“Why were you sad anyways?” he asked. “Aunt Jordan wouldn’t let me see.”

(Y/N) felt the words clog her throat again, her eyes burning but she didn’t think she had any more tears to cry. She swallowed, hard, before trying to answer.

“Bumblebee,” she began. “This is very hard for me to say, and I know you will be just as sad as I am, but I want to be as truthful as I can. Do you think you will be okay if I tell you?” Fabian gave a nod, hesitant but committed. Taking a breath, (Y/N) continued. 

“I saw Grandpa and Grandma with the other walkers. They weren’t able to make it out of Atlanta, and they died,” she said. Fabian’s breath caught in his throat, a tiny little whimper of a thing that (Y/N) barely heard and she felt like her entire chest was swelling and burning at the same time. “I was very upset when I saw them, but I’m a bit better now. We’re going to bury them, so they can rest easy wherever they decide to go next.”

“So they’re dead?” he whispered, now crying. “We won’t see them again? Ever? Like with (Pet’s Name)?”

“Yes, just like (Pet’s Name). I’m sorry, honey.”

She held him close, trying to hold back the tears. She had grieved enough today, and needed to help her child. She’ll have to fall apart another time, but not now.

***

The rest of the camp seemed to give (Y/N) a wide berth when she walked back through. The area looked less like a crime scene, although the fire still burned with the bodies of the unknown. There were three bodies, covered in different sheets that were left. Andrea was standing next to one, a blank expression on her face despite the fact that she was covered in dried blood and probably hadn’t slept a wink. She looked up once, as (Y/N), Fabian and Jordan made their way to the three bodies. 

“I’m sorry about your sister,” (Y/N) croaked out. 

“Thanks,” Andrea commented. 

A few seconds later, Merle, along with Daryl, T-Dog and Glenn, came to them, the latter two wearing gardening gloves that must have belonged to Dale’s wife at some point as they were a tad small. Merle had a shovel in hand, as did Glenn.

“Are you doing alright?” Glenn asked. “I think you scared us there for a bit.”

(Y/N) shrugged. “It was just a shock, to see them like that.” She looked down at Fabian, who refused to look at the two other sheet covered bodies. “I’m just glad someone was there that he didn’t have to see the whole thing. But I’m sure we’ll be fine. People lost family before everything went to hell, and managed just fine.”

Glenn gave a tight lipped smile but started to help the other men move the bodies. There were three holes left uncovered, only a few feet away. Amy went down first, Andrea standing nearby and watching as they covered her body with dirt. Then they put (Y/N)’s parents next. She wasn’t sure who went into the earth first, didn’t really want to know, but she couldn’t help but let a few tears slip past as they pooled dirt over their bodies.

Andrea left soon after, not in a talking mood, and Glenn and T-Dog followed quickly after making sure (Y/N) and Fabian were okay. Jordan held (Y/N)’s free hand the whole time, thanking the two men for her friend. The only two that stayed were Merle and Daryl, the latter probably to keep an eye on his brother (which was always ironic for (Y/N) to see). 

“Alrigh’ there, princess?” Merle asked, leaning on the shovel. 

(Y/N) nodded. “Just… still can’t really process that they’re actually gone, s’all.”

“Do you want to say a few words?” Jordan asked, squeezing her hand. 

The (H/C) haired woman took a shaky breath, but nodded. It took her a bit, to gather her thoughts, but they came eventually.

“We loved them,” she managed to get out. “More than anything. And I’m sure they knew that, just as we know they loved us just the same. They’re going to watch over us, wherever they end up, and worry, cause that’s what they do. And hopefully, a long time from now, we’ll see them again.”

“In a better world,” Jordan concluded for her.

“That sounds nice,” (Y/N) agreed. “Yeah, in a better world.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 13: Going on a Trip (Day 63)

Jordan caught her up to speed soon after. Jim had been bitten during the attack the night before and was quarantined away in the RV for his safety as well as theirs until they figured out what to do with him. It was strange, honestly, but she didn’t want to see him suffer and think of how her parents felt going through the same change. Carol was one of the few brave enough to be near Jim while he was dying, helping take care of the man and keeping him comfortable. (Y/N) didn’t think she’d have the balls to do the same. 

Later that night, Rick and Shane bring everyone to the campfire over dinner to tell them the plan for the next few days. They agreed to go to the CDC, now that their camp is compromised after the walker attack. Merle made a comment under his breath at that but it wasn’t loud enough for (Y/N) to hear. The look Daryl gave him made it seem like it wasn’t exactly savory for sensitive ears anyways. 

The next morning everyone packed their things. (Y/N) wasn’t happy about having to live in the Subaru again for who knows how long, or even driving (she had enjoyed just relaxing in one spot after weeks of being on the road). Their tent went into the back, as well as their backpacks. They strapped some stuff for the others to the top, to allow more room for other stuff in the trunks of the other cars they were using. 

“Everybody listen up!” Shane called out, gathering everyone nearby. (Y/N) walked closer, leaning on one leg as she wondered what else was going to be dropped on their heads. “Those of you with C.B.s, we’re gonna be on channel 40. Let’s keep the chatter down, okay?” A few heads nodded. “Now, you got a problem, don’t have a C.B., can’t get a signal or anything at all, you’re gonna hit your horn one time. That’ll stop the caravan. Any questions?” Shane looked around the group.

Morales stepped up.

“We’re, uh… We’re not going,” he said. Miranda, his wife, nodded, continuing, “We have family in Birmingham. We want to be with our people.”

Shane warned them of the dangers. They still turned down going with them. Fabian waved goodbye to Eliza and Louis, as did Carl, while Sophia gave the other little girl a hug goodbye. Eliza gave Sophia her doll, both girls pretty upset at leaving the other. 

“Channel 40, if you change your minds, alright?” Rick offers. Morales nods and then the family goes on their own way, leaving the rest of the group behind. (Y/N) silently wished them luck, knowing they’re going to need it more than anything now that they were on their own. 

It’s only an hour later that they were on the road, leaving Atlanta behind. (Y/N) felt uneasy leaving. She had wanted to stay, since she knew her parents, Fabian’s and her family, were here. But she knew they wouldn’t be able to live like that, not anymore, and not with how things ended up being at that camp.

They were following T-Dog’s car, with Daryl and Merle driving behind them. The RV was in the lead, taking them in the direction they needed to go to the CDC. 

It was a good idea, in theory, but (Y/N) had doubts. She couldn’t place her finger on it, but something wasn’t settling right. Maybe breakfast, she couldn’t eat much that morning.

The road was empty for most of the drive. A few times they passed an abandoned car, destroyed by fires or taken apart by looters who decided they needed it more than anyone else. Which, (Y/N) could see, was probably true for most of them if they thought they were going to die. 

Jordan was sitting in passenger, dozing with her head pressed against the glass of the window. Fabian, in the back, was looking through one of the comics that Glenn had managed to find a few weeks ago in Atlanta. She couldn’t tell which hero was on the cover in the mirror, the blue and red outfit belonging to anyone honestly, but whoever it was kept his attention for a majority of the ride. He had been quiet that morning too, picking at the bar he was given but had finished it under two pairs of watchful eyes. 

It wasn’t long before they were pulling over to the side of the road. (Y/N) could see smoke permeating from the front of the RV. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

Jordan jolted awake as they came to a stop. “Wha’s goin’ on?” she slurred, wiping drool from her chin and rubbing her eyes. 

“Looks like the RV broke down,” (Y/N) replied. 

“That sucks,” Jordan muttered. She leant forwards into the glove box to retrieve a cleaning cloth, pulling her glasses off her nose to clean the finger marks left behind. “Should we get out? See how long we’ll have to wait?”

The (H/C) haired woman shrugged. “Dunno, honestly. But couldn’t hurt, I guess.” She turned in her seat, patting Fabian’s knee gently to get his attention. “Do you want to stay in the car while we go see what’s up?”

“Yeah,” he said.

Giving the boy another pat before she unbuckled and stepped out of the car. It didn’t look like anyone else was getting out but she needed a stretch anyways. (Y/N) could feel her legs beginning to cramp from sitting for so long. As she got older, she realized she had a harder time staying in the same position for long periods. The last time she did a long road trip like this, before the world paused at least, she had to walk around multiple times to get feeling back into her feet and her hands wouldn’t stop tingling. Luckily this time she had someone to switch out with so sitting around didn’t pinch her nerves as much. 

As she bent down to touch her toes, she heard more doors opening, as well as a murmur of voices rising. (Y/N) looked up from her position to glance into her own car; the passenger seat was empty but Fabian was still in the back seat, leaning up against his door and looking out the window. 

Jordan was walking back to the car, after conversing with Shane and Rick. She leant her body against the side of the car, resting her arms on the hood as she waited for (Y/N) to stand back up. Once she did, the dark skinned woman spoke.

“Looks like Jim’s gone as far as he could,” she said. “That, and the RV needs time to cool off and be repaired again.”

“Oh no… That sucks,” (Y/N) frowned. “What’s going to happen to him now? Don’t think it’s very fair to off him here and now in front of everyone.”

Jordan shrugged as best as she could. “Your guess is as good as mine. Maybe they’ll ask what Jim wants to do.”

(Y/N) gave a  hum as she thought, not really knowing how to respond. It wouldn’t be a good idea to just outright kill the guy. Right now he’s still mostly human and it’ll make even the most neutral samaritan feel icky about killing a man point-blank. Even now, just thinking about herself pointing a gun at another human being and feeling the flesh move under the barrel of the gun makes her stomach curl uncomfortably. 

“What’s got everyone's panties in a twist?” Merle called out. He was leaning out of the passenger window of the Dixon truck, clearly annoyed at the holdup.

“It’s Jim!” (Y/N) called back. 

“He bite the bullet?”

“Not really.”

Merle grumbled something under his breath, something (Y/N) couldn’t quite catch, but the burly man didn’t move from his spot in the truck. He looked almost like a pouting toddler, but with more muscle and an even uglier mug. 

A few minutes later, once (Y/N) and Jordan situated themselves back in the front of the car (Jordan now behind the wheel) they got their answer as a few of the men helped Jim out of the RV. (E/C) eyes watched them go up the grassy hill on the side of the road, situating the sickly man up against the tree. He either laughed or was coughing up a lung, she couldn’t tell, but the shaky smile on his face didn’t waver as he spoke to the few people that wished to say their goodbyes. She felt bad for not being one of them, but she hardly knew Jim, didn’t really want to as the man clearly wanted to be by himself more often than not, and their paths didn’t cross much to really garner her to strike up a conversation with the older man anyways. 

“Looks like we’re just leaving him then,” (Y/N) whispered. She watched as they slowly drove back onto the road, as the man gave them all a solo send off with one hand in the air, shaking as he took his last breaths.

***

It took an hour or so before they finally came to a large building on the outskirts of the city. It was curved, from the side (Y/N) could see, with a wall of windows among the many pounds of concrete. It looked very clinical and if she didn’t know what she was looking at she definitely would think it was some kind of hospital. The only off putting thing was the many bodies, as well as the deserted military vehicles, that littered the surrounding grounds. 

Jordan parked the car behind the rest, turning off their car. She didn’t look too thrilled, and honestly (Y/N) was feeling the same. She had hoped, even slightly, that there would be something here to prove that not all was lost, but the state of the leftovers here didn’t really give her any more hope than she’s had the last few weeks. 

“Well, we’re here now,” (Y/N) said. She took a deep breath, feeling her lungs expand, before letting it all, steeling her nerves. “Let’s grab the backpacks, especially our water bottles. We might be able to have running and clean water if we can get inside.” The (H/C) haired woman did her best to give her kid in the backseat a smile that didn’t look like she was expecting the worst. “Alright?”

“Okay mom,” Fabian said, putting his comic away in the backpack next to him before quietly getting out of the car. Jordan and (Y/N) quickly followed.

“Should we lock it?” Jordan asked quietly. She was fiddling with the keys in her hands. 

(Y/N) shrugs. “I think we’ll be fine? I don’t really see anyone clambering to break into it…”

Jordan silently nodded, stuffing the keys into one of the smaller pockets of her own bag, before flinging it around both shoulders. (Y/N) held out her hand for Fabian, who dutifully grabbed ahold of her, and both women walked towards where the rest of the group was standing. They all looked towards Rick and Shane, even Merle and Daryl, who didn’t look too happy but weren’t complaining now that they were around so much more death. Merle still looked like shit, but he had clearer eyes than (Y/N)’s ever seen in the weeks she’s known them. Hopefully he kept off the drugs, as hard as it would most likely be.

Soon they were all shuffling quietly, stepping over unmoving arms and walking around anything that didn’t look entirely dead. 

“All right, everybody,” Shane said quietly. “Keep moving. Go on. Stay quiet.” He was quietly urging them along, encouraging them to stay steady as they walked deeper into the throng of the Hopefully Still Dead. 

Each corpse was worse than the next. Carol almost lost her footing on one when stepping over them, but caught herself, and Glenn looked green. Daryl and Merle were bringing up the rear, the younger Dixon holding his crossbow up as he followed with a practiced pace. (Y/N) was glad to have them behind her, in all actuality, as she didn’t think she’d feel at all at ease if it was just her and Jordan being in the back by themselves. 

It felt like forever to reach the building. 

(Y/N) felt like each step was taking a year from her life. She thought walking through Atlanta with a delirious and bleeding out Man-Child was terrifying, this felt like they were a Thanksgiving dinner serving itself on a silver platter. Their large group was mostly women and children and men who didn’t know what they were doing. The few that did didn’t seem confident in their collaboration with each other or didn’t want to interact with the group as a whole. She could only do so much with her prop-turned-weapon but she tired quickly. 

Shane pounds on a metal shutter gate. The sound made the hairs on her skin raise, goosebumps pimpling on her flesh. Her heart rate picked up and she could almost feel it leaping up her throat to try and escape out of her mouth. She gripped Fabian’s hand tightly in hers, eyes flickering at every dormant body that now lay between them and their only means of escape. 

Nothing moved, but that didn’t mean it’ll stay that way. 

“There’s nobody here,” T-Dog said.

Rick frowned, ready to argue. “Then why are these shutters down?”

(Y/N) saw Daryl raise his bow higher from the corner of her eye, shuffling closer to the group. She felt like she was being corralled to go towards the middle like a cow getting ready to be slaughtered, as he and his brother backed Jordan, Fabian and herself closer to the rest of the group. She let her eyes wander to where he was pointing, and then she realized why. 

“Walkers!” he shouted.

(Y/N) pushed Fabian behind her and Jordan, making sure his hand was still in hers but he was very far from being grabbed first if they didn’t make it.

An arrow whizzed through the air, impaling itself in the skull of one of the animated corpses. They were beginning to stand from the ground, some stumbling from behind things that they had been sitting behind while others were pushing themselves up from their prostrated positions. 

How odd , (Y/N) thought. It’s like they’re conserving energy, like crocodiles.

“You lead us into a graveyard!” Daryl yells again. He shoots another arrow at a walker that was too close to the group. 

“He made a call!” Shane defends.

“It was the wrong damn call!” Daryl shouts back.

Shane shouts for the younger Dixon to shut up, Merle yelling something back but (Y/N) wasn’t hearing anything over the static that was crawling through her ears like ants on a timpani. Others were screaming, crying, begging for Rick or Shane to think of something to get them out. Jordan grabbed onto the strap of (Y/N)’s bag as they were pushed back once more, almost back-to-back with the gate of the CDC’s doors. Merle was standing in front of them both, Daryl covering them all with his crossbow, even as he was running out of homemade bolts. 

“The camera!” Rick suddenly shouts. It was garbled over the white noise in her ears. “It moved!”

“Rick, it is dead, man,” Shane pleads. “It’s an automated device. It’s gears, okay? They’re just winding down. Now come on!” He says something else, too low for (Y/N) to catch as her eyes track another bolt going into the softened skull of a walker.

B A N G B A N G B A N G B A N G

Rick begins to hammer his hand against the metal, not losing hope but increasing the panic swelling inside (Y/N)’s chest.

Shane looks like he’s given up convincing his friend, calling for everyone to head back to the cars. Jordan begins to lead (Y/N) and Fabian, shuffling as much as she could as she tries to follow Merle and Daryl on their trek back to the cars. If there was a group to follow in the fray of the small horde beginning to form, it would be the only ones with any sense if they were lost in the forest.

“Please help us!” she heard Rick call again. “You’re killing us! You’re killing us! You’re killing us!”

(Y/N) takes one more shuffling step before a jolt of metal, followed by the creaking of rusted gears, stops them all. 

The gate begins to lift, and a light, fluorescent and bright, floods out.

Chapter Text

Chapter 14: Temporary Paradise (Day 63 - 64)

“Daryl, Merle,” Shane starts,” you cover the back.” Daryl gave a small nod in acknowledgment but Merle gave the former police officer a mean look, complying unwillingly for the assigned task. (Y/N) gave him a stern look, one she gives on reflex when Fabian or one of her students give her lip, but the older man merely shrugged and gave a half-assed attempt to school his expression. They both corralled the rest of the group inside while Rick hollered for whoever was inside, that gave them mercy and let them into the closed off building. (Y/N) was relieved to be out of the heat, both literally and figuratively, and felt like she could pass out as adrenaline slowly seeped out of her. 

The entire lobby was barren of any living thing except for them and a few wilted plants that were placed near the tall pillars that supported the roof. Dust had settled in a thick layer over nearly everything and it felt like each step kicked it up to attack her senses. She wanted to sneeze.

A gun cocks and immediately she was back on alert.

A man in a lab coat, scruffy and exhausted, pointed a gun at them with a stance that appeared practiced and lacked confidence. He wore a gray shirt that looked too clean for someone who's been surviving in this new world and it made (Y/N) wonder how long he’s been separated from the rest of the world. If it was done on purpose or if he too was trespassing and happened to look the part of someone who belonged.

“Anybody infected?” he asks. His voice was scratchy, and sounded odd to her ears, as if he hadn’t practiced speech with another person. Was he the only one here? The man moves his gun to span the length of their huddled group and (Y/N) doesn’t waste time in pushing her son between her and the weapon, making sure that one of the Dixon’s were in front of him in case something or someone snuck up behind them. Jordan took a step closer to them, closing the gap between them to further cover the preteen boy.

“One of our group was,” Rick offers honestly. The deputy sheriff steps forwards, separating him from the rest and keeping the other man’s attention on to him. “He didn’t make it.”

“Why are you here?” the stranger asks again. “What do you want?”

“A chance.”

“That’s asking an awful lot these days.” The stranger’s weapon lowers slightly but still points at them all.

Rick nods, agreeing. “I know.”

For a moment, the man looks around at the entire group. His eyes seem to pause when he notices Carl, Sophia and Fabian, standing near their mothers with fear and curiosity fluttering across their faces. It makes him pause, mulling something over in his head as his eyes dart between each person’s face. 

“You’ll all submit a blood test,” he says finally. “That’s the price of admission.”

“We can do that,” Rick nods. 

Finally the military grade weapon is lowered and (Y/N) feels herself relaxing despite her heart racing in her chest. She reaches over and holds Jordan’s sleeve with one hand while the other holds onto Fabian as they all shuffled over to follow the strange man. He led them to an elevator, managing to squeeze everyone in with some room for everyone, even Merle and T-Dog who were both very burly and took up a lot of space as it is.

“Vi!” he called out once they were all inside. “Seal the main entrance. Kill  the power up here.” In response, a rattling noise and then a clang echoes throughout the building and then a beep. It was odd, but (Y/N) had seen a lot of odd shit these last few months so strange technology was very low on her priority list.

Rick introduces himself to the man, who gives his name as well. Doctor Edwin Jenner.

“Doctors always go around packing heat like that?” Daryl asks from the back. He points to the military rifle in Jenner’s hand. 

“Yeah, not like there’s anything you need to defend yourself with that’s big enough for that thing,” Merle chuckles.

Jenner glances down at the gun before answering. “There were plenty left lying around. I familiarized myself. But you look harmless enough,” he jokes. Then he looks at Carl. “Except you. I’ll have to keep my eye on you.” He quirks a smile, which gets a large one from the boy.

The elevator begins to move and (Y/N) wants to vomit. She wasn’t a big fan of elevators, or rather being stuck in one. Despite there being a few inches of space between everyone else, it still felt like not enough, and she was beginning to feel a little dizzy as they continued their descent down to the rest of the building. 

Eventually they jolted to a stop. 

The doctor led everyone down a clean hallway. (Y/N) was glad to leave it behind her. If they ever have to leave, she hopes that there’s a staircase exit she could use instead. 

“Are we underground?” Carol asks.

“Are you claustrophobic?” Jenner asks in return.

“A little.”

“Try not to think about it.”

Thanks. That helps so much , (Y/N) thinks, rolling her eyes while glaring at the back of his head. That makes all our anxiety disappear. Why don’t we say that walkers don’t exist and we just need to eat healthier and exercise more while we’re at it .

“Ya okay?” a voice asks besides her. Daryl had taken the space on her other side, as Fabian was squished between herself and Jordan as they made their way down the wide hallway. Merle was quietly whistling to himself as he glanced inside open doorways and peaked inside rooms like a child trying to be sneaky. 

“Yeah, just peachy,” she responded. “Just don’t think anyone would appreciate my snark right now, so inside thoughts it is.”

“I won’t mind it if those become outside ones,” he said. “Least I could do for you, helping you shoulder that burden.”

(Y/N) snorts. “I doubt you’d find me badmouthing our savior for being a terrible therapist, a good thing to shoulder.”

Daryl shrugs, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “He’s a doctor, they’re bound to be wrong a few hundred times before they get something marginally right,” he jokes. 

“This isn’t House M.D., if he fucks up there’s more dire consequences than a shocking soundtrack and a commercial break to help them fix things.”

“Yeah, well, to be frank this guy ain’t Hugh Laurie, nor got his charm.”

(Y/N) quirked an eyebrow.

“What?” Daryl asks, defensive.

“I didn’t see you as a TV guy.”

“I watched TV. I didn’t live in the middle of nowhere livin’ off of berries and venison and wiping my ass with poison oak all the time. Just the once was good enough for me.”

They stopped talking as they entered a large, dark room. A few gasped at the large screen and high ceiling, while many eyed the computer monitors on the curved tables.

Doctor Jenner spoke up once more. “Vi, bring up the lights in the big room!”

A beep followed by a hum sounded. The large area was then engulfed in light, allowing a better view of the many unused electronics still hidden in the room. (Y/N) noticed the keyboards, large and clunky, and she itched to type on the nearest one just to hear the clicking noise she was sure they’d make. 

“Do you think we could watch Ben 10 on that?” Fabian asked, tugging at his mother’s shirt. “Imagine how big he’d be!”

“It would be neat, huh?” (Y/N) tried to smile, but she seemed unsure if that would even be possible. She couldn’t even get YouTube to work on her own work computer, she was sure a government facility would have a hard time letting them on the Cartoon Network website. But a ten year old could still be allowed to dream.

“Welcome to Zone Five,” said Doctor Jenner. He spread out his arms, as if he was Captain Jack Sparrow. His voice echoed in the vast emptiness of the room.

Rick seemed to notice this as well, asking about it to the scientist.

Jenner sighed. “I’m in,” he explains. “It’s just me here…”

Lori stepped up. “What about the person you were speaking with? Vi?”

“Vi,” Jenner called out. “Say hello to our guests. Tell them…. ‘Welcome.’”

The room hummed again and a robotic feminine voice filled the empty space. “Hello guests,” it said. 

“Welcome.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 15: Hot Water? (Day 63-64)

Dr. Jenner had a look of accepted devastation. As if the fact that he was the only one was a conclusion he had only just now came to. It unsettled (Y/N), seeing such a face on someone that gave such grand hope to Rick and the others. It reminded her all too much of a parent knowing the outcome to something their child would not like and preparing for the oncoming tantrum.

“I’m all that’s left… I’m sorry.”

To say the mood had shifted would have been an understatement. Dr. Jenner led them to a room just off from the main floor. It was similar to a conference room in size, with plenty of chairs. (Y/N) settled down in one as Dr. Jenner began to draw everyone’s blood. Each person went through the same process: sanitized, poked, done. The swell of the crimson liquid pooled out quickly, a scene that both amazed and disgusted (Y/N) and Fabian when it came to their turn. (Y/N) had to turn away once the needle came close to her own arm. She could handle the feeling, but seeing it go in freaked her out more than the actual pain.

“What’s the point?” Andrea asked, sitting in the chair for her turn. “If we were infected, we’d all be running a fever.”

Dr. Jenner furrowed his brow, the crease deep and angry. “I’ve already broken every rule in the book by letting you in here. Let me at least be thorough.”

Andrea didn’t look satisfied with his answer, though (Y/N) doubts anybody paying attention would be. If anything, most of them were glad to at least be indoors, underground or not. When her blood draw was done, she stood and wavered. Jacqui was quick to stand behind her.

“Are you okay?” the dark haired woman asked. The other woman merely nodded, a small noise that could be considered a hum of affirmation sounding alongside, and Jacqui turned her attention towards their savior. “She hasn’t eaten in days. None of us have.”

As if to prove a point, a few gurgles could be heard from hungry stomachs. (Y/N) blushed when she could feel her own and realized how loud it was to her own ears, loud enough that Fabian giggles next to her while pressed against her side.

“Of course,” Jenner says. He gets up, grabs the vials of blood, and turns to the group once more. “Follow me.”

The next room they went into was like a canteen. Plenty of space for a few small groups to still sit and mingle among everyone else, while cabinets were filled with food, a fridge stocked with all kinds of different juices and condiments. There was a commotion as each individual, adult and child alike, went around inspecting each door, draw and cabinet.

Glenn was the first to find the alcohol stores.

Everyone sits around a large table as pasta is passed around for everyone to eat. Many of the adults are drinking out of wine glasses, laughing through various sips or gulps. Jordan is one that daintily takes small savoring sips from her own glass of red. Not a brand she was familiar with, nor one that tasted extremely good, but it had been too long since she had a social glass of wine. (Y/N) had declined. She had no desire for a headache, and red wine was one that easily gave her migraines at her age. She passed the wine to her right, Daryl gladly taking the bottle and taking a very generous swig straight from the mouth of the bottle and didn't bother handing it to his brother besides him. Merle, grumbles, playfully shoves the other man, but gladly accepts the one hesitatingly offered to him by Carol. 

“You know, in Italy, children have a bit of wine with dinner,” Dale says with a cheeky smile, noticing the curious looks that Carl was giving Lori’s nearly filled glass. “And in France.”

Lori rolls her eyes, though her own smile shows no animosity at his comment. “Well,” she takes a sip from her glass, “when Carl is in Italy or France, he can have some then.” That brought a few chuckles from those listening in.

“What’s it gonna hurt?” Rick laughs. He urges his glass towards Dale, cheeks flushed with the alcohol, and lets the older man fill it. Lori shoots him a sharp look as Dale chuckles and hands the young boy a glass that has about an inch of wine, just enough for a small taste. Rick doesn’t seem to notice.

Everyone watches as Carl takes a small, careful sip, making a face soon afterwards and wrinkling his nose. His tongue sticks out, almost blowing a raspberry as he voices his disgust. Many of them laugh, even (Y/N) who knows that any kind of alcohol is an acquired taste not really enjoyed by everyone, no matter the age. She never really liked the smell of any beer or liquor, many having a sour or sharp antiseptic scent to it and it turned her off for many years. Even before the dead rose she only had a glass or two every few months during social occasions.

Lori pats Carl on the back while pouring the rest of the wine into her own glass. “That’s my boy,” she says.

“Well, just stick to soda pop there, bud,” Shane says. He sits away from the rest of the group, far away from where (Y/N) had expected him to sit, but still close enough to be included with a majority of the group. The fact he actively chose not to sit next to his best friend, that peaked (Y/N)’s curiosity, wondering what happened that made him separate from the people he stuck to like glue.

“Not you, Glenn!” Daryl’s voice cut her out of her thoughts. 

“What?” Glenn asks, mid-bite.

“Keep drinking, little man,” Merle laughs, shoulders relaxed as he felt the wine course through his system.

“I want to see how red your face can get,” Daryl continued. He lurches across the table, pouring more of his own wine into Glenn’s glass as the men laughed at the bewilderment on the young man’s face. (Y/N) chuckled herself, taking a sip from her water and looking over at Fabian, who was watching everyone intently, especially Glenn who looked more pink than red under everyone’s attention.

For the rest of the dinner, they had light conversation for the first time in what felt like weeks. Merle and Daryl let their (metaphorical) hair down with each glass of wine, and Jordan was leaning back and nodding off while on her third. Fabian, full of as much pasta as he could handle, was curled up in his chair, his head resting on (Y/N)’s arm as he fought off sleep with a full stomach. The (H/C) haired woman was even feeling giddy herself, despite not eating as much as she really wanted to (her stomach still couldn’t tell that she wasn’t sixteen anymore) and only deviating from water to a cold glass of orange juice.

Rick stood, as the sounds of eating slowed and more and more people were beginning to relax. He tapped a fork against his wine glass.

“It seems to me we haven’t thanked our host properly.” Rick states. A few cheers followed.

“Hear hear!”

“Here’s to you, Doc! Booyah!”

“Booyah!”

“Thank you,” Rick says again, much calmer than many of the other flushed faces around them. “Thank you, doctor.”

“Booyah!”

Eventually they agreed to clean up. With bellies full and spirits high, (Y/N) couldn’t help but feel relaxed, content almost. Fabian had fallen into a light sleep against her, soft snores barely heard with his face squished into the crook of her elbow. She had no doubt that the dark haired boy felt safe for the first time in days.

“So, when are you gonna tell us what the hell happened here, Doc?” Shane interrupts the relaxed atmosphere like a bullhorn in a library. “All the-- the other doctors that were supposed to be figuring out what happened. Where are they?”

Rick frowns, visibly annoyed and upset at his friend. “We’re celebrating, Shane,” he says. “We don’t need to do this now.”

Shane looks as if someone farted in his direction. His face wrinkles, slightly. “Whoa, wait a second,” he begins, voice raising. “This is why we’re here, right?” He pointed at Rick. (Y/N) could almost feel the accusatory tone coming from that finger alone. “This was your move - supposed to find all the answers. Instead we,” he gives a chuckle that sends a bad kind of shiver down her spine, “we find him. Found one man. Why?”

This brings everyone’s spirits down even further, sobering up many. Jenner sighs, defeat clear on his face. He swirls what left over wine he had in his glass before he answers.

“Well, when things got bad, a lot of people just left; went off to be with their families. And when things got worse, when the military got overrun, the rest bolted.”

“Every last one?” Shane asks. It felt like watching a live-action bad cop from a really crappy detective show.

“No,” Jenner said. “Many couldn’t face walking out the door. They… opted out.” He glanced around, focusing on the children as he chose his words carefully. “There was a rash of suicides. It was a bad time.”

“You didn’t leave,” Andrea pointed out. “Why?”

“I just kept working, hoping to do some good,” Dr. Jenner replies. He gets up and waves for them to follow. (Y/N) debates going but seeing as everyone was leaving, she gave a gentle shake to Fabian’s shoulders and followed in the back as her son did his best to stay awake.

“Most of the facility is powered down including housing, so you’ll have to make do here,” he continues. They were led down a brightly lit hallway, with rows of doors that were held open. Each room had a cot or two, enough for everyone to have their own. Jordan and (Y/N) smiled at each other. The thought of having their own bed, any kind of mattress really, sounded way more appealing than the back of their car or even the RV.

“The couches are comfortable, but there are cots in storage, if you like. There’s a rec room down the hall that you kids might enjoy. Just don’t plug in the video games, okay?” Fabian perks up at that, immediately pouting as Jenner finishes. “The same applies - if you shower, go easy on the hot water?”

“Hot water?” Glenn asks.

Large smiles erupt among the group, energy spiking again. 

“That’s what the man said!” T-Dog laughs.

It felt like in seconds everyone claimed one of the open stalls. There was laughter, echoing off the walls and into the hallways. Even if someone was on the other end of the hall, it was almost as if you could hear them right next to you.

(Y/N) stands still in the shower as the water streams down, trying to playfully catch the water with her hands. She rejoices at the thought of finally getting to wash her hair, to scrub off layers of dirt that clings to her skin after bathing in a freezing lake, maybe even getting to shave if she felt like she had time. 

Even Fabian, who was never a fan of getting clean before the end of their normal lives, was joyous and cleaning some of the dirt and grime that accumulated onto him. When his skin was pink and shining did he get out, glad that he no longer had an itchy scalp. 

It was then that people separated in their own separate groupings. 

Carol, Lori, Carl and Sophia wandered over to the rec room, the other children curious about the games they could play that weren't just Go Fish and Skip Bo. Some of the others went back to the canteen to continue drinking merrily. (Y/N), finally feeling the exhaustion of the last few days, gladly passed out in one of the rooms, Fabian curling next to her while Jordan looked at the various books on the shelf that was in the room they claimed before she couldn’t fight her eyelids any longer and took the other cot and turned in for the night.

They didn’t wake until the next morning.

(Y/N) was chuckling to herself as each new person stumbled in with a pounding headache, sipping from a mug of steaming tea. Jordan, being one of them, winced when a sharp sound came from Fabian’s fork on the plate, but gingerly took bites of the eggs so generously prepared by T-Dog. She didn’t think she had drunk that much, but her headache, as meager as it really was, still hurt like a bitch. 

“Hello,” Rick said. He was one of the last to wake and join them in the smaller kitchen to the side of the canteen. He was holding his head as he took a seat at the kitchen table.

“Are you hung over?” Carl, sitting next to Fabian, asked. “Mom said you’d be.”

“Mom is right.”

“Mom has that annoying habit,” Lori smiled. She had saved the seat between her and Carl for her husband.

Glenn comes soon after, moaning as he shuffles in and sits down, stiffly putting his head down on the table. He was having trouble keeping light from his eyes, and (Y/N) felt no pity as he failed to do so miserably. If you were going to drink too much, you must face the consequences.

“Protein helps the hangover,” T-Dog offers, giving the Korean man his own plate after giving a light chuckle at the other man’s misfortune. 

“Don’t ever, ever, ever let me drink again,” Glenn grounds as Jacqui comforts him.

In a way, this was almost a picture perfect scene. (Y/N) was sure that there wasn’t anything that could truly ruin it. 

Until Shane walks in, a gnarly scratch going down from his jawline to the collarbone on his neck. Made by nails, long ones with how thin and jagged they were, and (Y/N) couldn’t help but glance over at Lori.

There hadn’t been a doubt in her mind that something was going on with Lori and Shane before Rick had shown up, a surprise wrapped in beige and brown clothing. The only question is if someone assumed that such a relationship would continue.

Rick also noticed the scratches, after T-Dog points it out.

“Must’ve done it in my sleep,” Shane says, lamely. 

“Never seen you do that before,” Rick puts in, confused.

“Me neither,” Shane pauses, glancing up. “Not like me at all.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 16: Panic (Day 64)

Silence permeated the air, the only sound being the clinking of silverware on ceramic. This is what Dr. Jenner was welcomed as he walked in, greeting everyone almost jovially. A few others responded, tense or unaware of the atmosphere. 

“Doctor,” Dale pipes up. He had been looking around the night before. (Y/N) had seen him exploring the hallway and surrounding areas before she tucked herself in for the night and proceeded to have a night without dreams. “I don’t mean to slam you with questions first thing…”

“But you will anyway,” Jenner continues.

“We didn’t come for the eggs,” Andrea put in. Jordan raised an eyebrow, but kept her lips sealed. She had thoughts, of course, but she was always raised to keep them to yourself unless it was necessary to actually help. Even if she wanted to give out a comment that would make (Y/N)’s own snark proud. 

The scientist sighs and leads them back to the large room from before. It’s barely lit now, about one or two fluorescent lights humming above them in the high ceiling, and one computer running. It was less welcoming, and in a way it felt like something awful was just waiting under one of the desks, itching to jump out and give them all hell.

“Vi,” Jenner calls out. “Give me a playback of TS-19.”

The AI hums, beeping as it brings up a video on the large screen before them. 

Curious, (Y/N) studied the picture. It was of a skull, definitely human. She wasn’t sure if it was an x-ray or an MRI of some kind, but it was a video that allowed them to not only see the bone structure of the person but also the electric pulses of the brain activity in action. She could barely recall the psychology classes she took in college (requirements, of course, for her degree and ones she barely had to use at all) to identify the different parts of the brain. She noted that very few were lit.

“Is that a brain?” Carl asks.

“An extraordinary one,” he responds, wistful. Heartache was clear on his face. “Not that it matters, in the end. Take us in for the E.I.V.”

“ Enhanced Internal View ,” the voice echoes.

The screen begins to move. The subject leans back, laying on their back as the recording focuses on the cranium. Vitals were tracked on the side, looking fairly normal, but the temperature of the body was too high for a healthy person, like they were running a fever and one that had continued to rise instead of the usual fluctuations. As the seconds ticked on the recording, the parts of the brain flashed, some moving up and down the spinal cord, others bouncing off and between the various lobes. 

“What are those lights?” Shane asks him.

“It’s a person’s life - experiences, memories… It’s everything. Somewhere in all that organic writing, all those ripples of light, is you - the thing that makes you unique and human.”

Daryl was not amused, voicing his annoyance with a grunt, crossing his arms as he leant against one of the desks. Merle didn’t look too pleased either, sharp eyes watching the video as he scratched the inside of his arm. The bandage was coming undone, as he did so, showing some of the scabbing on his wrist. 

“You don’t make sense ever?” Daryl grumbles.

“Those are synapses,” Dr. Jenner clarifies. “Electric impulses in the brain that carry all the messages. They determine everything a person says, does or thinks from the moment of birth to the moment of death.”

“Death?” Rick asks. “That’s what this is, a vigil?”

“Yes, or rather, the playback of a vigil.”

(Y/N) was beginning to feel a little nervous at the implications that TS-19’s video would give them, the answers that supposedly belonged to Dale’s original question. She held Fabian’s hand, feeling smaller than ever in the large room and glanced over at the door. If she left now, she could ease her anxiety that was screaming at her that something was wrong. But she’d gain attention and it could cease the answers that the others looked so desperately to want. 

So she stayed, moving Fabian to stand between her and Jordan, leaving (Y/N) to the outside of the group instead of the inside. She had a terrible view of the video, as T-Dog stood in front of her, so part of the screen was blocked but she saw all the important bits.

“This person died?” Andrea asks again. “Who?”

“Test Subject 19,” Jenner responds. “Someone who was bitten and infected… and volunteered to have us record the process.” The doctor looked more broken than he had the entire time they’ve stayed and questioned him. (Y/N) watched the faces of the others she could see from her vantage point, saw a look dawning on Lori’s face as if she had just answered a question of her own. “Vi. Scan forward to the first event.”

“ Scanning to first event. ”

The recording begins to move, jaws going slack as the lit up parts of the brain start to die out, going dark from the center and spreading outwards.

“It invades the brain like meningitis,” Jenner continues. “The adrenal glands hemorrhage, the brain goes into shutdown, then the major organs. Then death.” He pauses, taking a deep breath to steady himself. “Everything you ever were or ever will be… Gone.”

“Is that what happened to Jim?” Sophia asks. She clung to her mother, scared and uneasy as she looked up at her mother, a similar look on her face. Carol gives a small nod, understanding what she was seeing, recognizing the implications of what was happening.

(Y/N) was both disgusted and interested in the process. The biology behind everything, it was definitely some kind of virus, but it was interesting that it killed the main network system of the host. Viruses don’t want to kill their host, they want to spread. So why is it not keeping the person alive?

“Scan to the second event!” Jenner calls out. Andrea looked devastated, wiping at her tear streaked cheeks, Jacqui comforting her with a reassuring hug. 

“ Scanning to second event ,” Vi says.

The scene changes to the entire brain going dark. A red light is flickering at the base of the skull, sparking out like the veins of a butterfly’s wing. Nothing else is lit, except for the areas near the spinal cord and cerebellum. Occasionally the lights would branch out, like a reaction to the pulses, but they stayed dark otherwise. 

“The resurrection times vary wildly,” Jenner continues. “We had reports of it happening in as little as three minutes. The longest we heard was eight hours. In the case of this patient, it was two hours, one minute.” Jenner takes another steadying breath. “... and seven seconds.”

“It restarts the brain?” Lori asks.

“No,” Jenner corrects. “Just the brain stem. Basically it gets them up and moving.”

“But they’re not alive?” Rick questions.

“You tell me.” Jenner gestures at the monitor in front of them, face passive. Rick just shakes his head, repeating what they already knew.

“If the host is dead, and the virus has taken control, there isn’t a human in there anymore, is there,” (Y/N) whispers to Jordan.. “Why would the virus take over after the host is dead? There’s been no record of a virus that does that so why now? Which virus is this that evolved to do something like this?”

“Not even the cordyceps one?” She whispers back.

“That’s more of a fungus than a virus, a parasite even…”

They turn their attention back to the scientist as he moves onto the next part of the video. This time the jaw is moving again, but in a non-human way, acting as if it wanted to be limb. It snapped a few times, until an object pierced its skull. The fiery red clusters that were sparking in the darkness of its brain cease as the object, a bullet, enters deep into the soft tissue. 

“God, what was that?” Carol asks. She had pulled Sophia closer to her, in a way to comfort the little girl but (Y/N) knew it had to be more to comfort herself. 

“He shot his patient in the head, didn’t you?” Andrea stated. 

“Vi. Power down the main screen and the work stations,” was all Jenner said.

“ Powering down main screen and work stations. ”

“You have no idea what it is, do you?” (Y/N) stated. “It doesn’t act like a virus. None that we know?”

Dr. Jenner sighed, nodding. “It could be microbial, or a new variant of virus, parasitic, fungal…”

“Or the wrath of God?” Jacqui inputs. 

“There is that.”

“Somebody must know something!” Jordan speaks up. “Somebody… Somewhere!”

“There are others, right?” (Y/N) backed up. “There’s CDCs all over the world, or CDC-like organizations… Surely they’ve been keeping everyone else updated with research…”

“There may be some,” Jenner admits. “People like me.”

“But you don’t know?” Rick looks ready to sit down and evaluate all his life’s choices. “How can you not know?”

Dr. Jenner gives another sigh, longer than the last. “Everything went down. Communications, directives - all of it. I’ve been in the dark for almost a month.”

“So it’s just not here,” Andrea confirms. Dread pulses through everyone. “There’s nothing left anywhere? Nothing?”

Jacqui had sat down in one of the empty chairs holding her head. Fabian, his ten year old brain catching up in understanding the words he knew, grips his mother’s hand tightly, the other holding onto his aunt’s shirt as his fingers turn white. 

“Man, I’m gonna get shitfaced drunk again,” Daryl mutters, body jerking in agitation.

Dale, his face pensive, stepped forwards again with a question at the tip of his tongue. “Doctor Jenner,” he calls out again. “I know this has been taxing for you and I hate to ask one more question, but… that clock,” he points to the clock with red digital numbers. (Y/N) must have missed seeing it the first time they walked through here. “It’s counting down. What happens at zero?”

“The basement generators - they run out of fuel.” Dr. Jenner says it like he was commenting on the fucking weather.

“And then?” Rick asks, urging the doctor for the answer. Like he knew it already, but didn’t believe it unless someone else said it. 

Jenner ignores him and walks out of the large room. Frustrated, Rick turns to the only other being that could answer his questions. 

“Vi! What happens when the power runs out?!”

“ When the power runs out, the facility-wide decontamination will occur .”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Merle grunts out. He looked pissed, almost more so than his brother who was pacing now at the back of the room.

“The building is going to explode,” (Y/N) answers.  “And we’ll die in it.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 17: The Storm Rages (Day 64)

It didn’t seem like anyone but Merle and Jordan had heard her and (Y/N) wondered if she had even said anything out loud with how calm a majority of their group was. She watched as a few of them, the natural leaders of their group, rushed out of the room to who knows where, while others numbly walked out once Dr. Jenner stumbled away with a haunted look on his face. A beep sounds out and the light returns to the large room. 

Merle continues to gape at the screen, an ugly look on a man such as him, and it seemed to lure Daryl closer. 

“The fuck is wrong with you?” he mutters, arms crossed and eyes scanning his brother. (Y/N) wondered if it was out of true concern or merely needing something to do other than get drunk. 

“Didja not hear what Lil Mama here just spouted out?” Merle growls, returning to attention. “Or didja have too much to drink?”

“Can’t hear nothin’ if it’s not facing my way,” the younger Dixon says. 

“We need to find a way out of here,” (Y/N) interjects. “I don’t know why everyone else is so calm, I feel like everyone knows that any large scale biological decontamination requires heavy usage of heat producing materials… Has no one seen a disaster movie or read any books based on biological warfare? Or watched Outbreak with Dustin Hoffman? Am I the only one here that’s thinking straight?”

Besides her, Fabian grips her shirt more firmly than ever. 

“Didn’t have the time nor the funds to really see many movies back in the day,” Daryl says. “And when I did, it was spent on better shit than shitty writing.”

(Y/N) merely rolled her eyes. She didn’t want to move, so she looked over at Jordan, who was pale as a sheet-ghost. “D’you think you can get our stuff together?”

“Of course.”

She scurried off, and both women were thankful that they didn’t unpack much the previous night.

“Are ya gonna explain any of this shit?” Daryl said crossly, agitation spreading from his face and through his body. He was getting jittery and looked ready to start pacing the room again.

“There are usually safeguards for places like these,” (Y/N) begins, “where you can only control so much before shit hits the fans. And when it does, there’s things one does to prevent the shit from flying farther than it needs to.” The empty looks given to her were not promising so she tried a different route.

“When you get sick, real sick, you get a fever, right?” 

“Yeah, what of it?”

“A fever is a sign of your body fighting something. Through this, we know that it increases our body temperature, and it helps kill off bacteria and viruses because they don’t like it when the body is too hot or too cold.”

“And?”

“So in places that have stores of different biological diseases and viruses, if everything fails or gets out of control, they usually destroy the samples. With fire.”

Daryl’s eyes widen, lips parting, as if he’s finally catching on.

“So what do you think happens when there’s nothing trying to keep these things in a giant building, and everything fails? What kind of safeguards, what kind of fire, can get rid of everything all at once without making it spread further than what humanity needs?”

“An explosion…” he answers. His hands come up to dig his fingers into his hair, pulling it as he now begins to pace. “Shit!”

“There you go, baby brother,” Merle says,” finally catching on.”

(Y/N) couldn’t help but silently agree. She had already had to say it aloud once, she had no desire to bring it out to reality again and see what chaos it would truly bring.

“We need to get out of here as soon as we can,” she continues. She looks over at the door that leads to the hallway where Jordan had left. A few lights had turned off, and it was heating up in the room they were in, making beads of sweat roll down her skin. Lori, as well as Dale, were in the hall talking to a solemn Jenner. “But how is the real problem.”

“Cause our kind doctor has locked us down here,” Merle grunts. 

As more lights flickered off, and the near silent hum of power begins to die down to nothing, more of their group stumble in a curious panic back into the room, looking to Jenner in hope and fear at what answers he now brings. 

Jenner explains to everyone what Merle, Daryl, Jordan (who had finally joined with their bags packed just outside their rooms, easy to grab as they left) and (Y/N) already knew: the power has run out and there was very little time to until they were considered no more. And then he brings down the security door.

Dread pools into (Y/N) stomach as she stares at Jenner in bewilderment.

“You son of a bitch!” Daryl yells, making a run at Jenner. Merle stomped behind him, looking just as furious, if not more so. “You locked us in here!” 

He grabs onto the scientist and begins to hit him, or at least tries to before Shane and Rick intervene and pull him off. They block Merle’s path as well, who looks just as ready to start a fight within the group and beat the two officers, injured or not. 

“Hey, Jenner, open that door now,” Rick pleads. 

“There’s no point,” the blond man sighs. “Everything topside is locked down. The emergency exits are sealed.”

“Well, open the damn things,” Dale says from within the group's circle. Daryl had been pushed aside, Merle grabbing him and leading him back to where both spotted an emergency ax mere hours before. The older brother uses his banded hand to break the glass while the younger grabs it and walks to the thick metal door. While this was happening, (Y/N) slowly led her family towards it, watching as each hit of the ax on the door matched the pounding in her heart.

Someone calls out to Vi and the robotic voice answers, but all (Y/N) could hear was the pounding of metal on metal and her own blood rushing through her veins.

Jenner’s voice somehow breaks through. “You should’ve left well enough alone… it would’ve been so much easier.”

“Easier for who?” Lori questions, tears in her eyes.

“All of you. You know what’s out there,” Jenner confirms. “A short brutal life and an agonizing death.” He turns to Andrea, reaching out his sympathy card and bringing the woman to his side as he questions if that’s what everyone wants to really go through. 

“That’s not for you to decide!” (Y/N) finally yells. “You’re not a god nor are you my mother! What you’re doing is dragging us with you, you selfish asshole, and not letting us choose how we want to die!”

Jenner gives her a look, pity pooling all over his face, but he doesn’t say anything in return, which angers the (H/C) haired woman even further. Instead, he looks to Daryl, and now T-Dog and Shane who found similar looking fire axes, who are banging at the doors and barely making a dent.

“Those doors are designed to withstand a rocket launcher,” he merely says.

Daryl turns, the man furious, and raises his ax over his head as he stomps to Jenner. “Well your head ain’t!” he retaliates.

Once more he’s held back, and Merle shouts at them to let him get it done and over with, to let the man die like he wants. (Y/N) feels a small amount of guilt in agreeing with those words, feeling that doing so would make them no better than what Jenner was doing to them, but she was sick and tired of having someone else dictate how she was going to live the rest of her life. 

T-Dog takes Daryl’s ax despite his protests.

“You do want this,” Jenner says. “Last night, you said you knew it was a matter of time before everybody you ever loved was dead.” He was looking straight at Rick. (Y/N) felt like everything was closing in on her as more people began to fidget and audibly panic, chest squeezing.

“What?” Shane asks, almost broken. “You really said that? After all your big talk?”

Rick ignores him, turning to Lori. 

“I had to keep hope alive, didn’t I?”

“There is no hope. There never was,” Jenner interjects.

Andrea puts in her two cents, obviously now on the scientist's side of things as she visibly gives up on everything. She sits in one of the many chairs that surround the large screen. She was looking over at (Y/N), like the (H/C) haired woman could understand her pain and her need to give up.

(Y/N) had to disagree. She still had someone to live for, even if it felt like doing so was worthless some days.

“One tiny moment, a millisecond,” Jenner continues. “No pain.”

“My daughter doesn’t deserve to die like this,” Carol sobs, pulling Sophia closer to her chest.

“Nor does anyone’s child,” (Y/N) could agree to that. “You have no right to try and convince us of that!”

“Wouldn’t it be kinder, more compassionate to just hold your loved ones and wait for the clock to run down?” Jenner persists. He looked between Carol and (Y/N), both women steadfast in holding their ground. 

Jacqui joined Andrea in sitting back down, giving in.

A gun cocks, and (Y/N) is surprised to see Shane holding a shotgun to the doctor’s head. Rick jumps in, trying to push the weapon away, calling for his friend to see reason. The demon on her right shoulder is begging the ex-cop to pull the trigger, while the angel on her left begs that he lets him let them go before doing anything hasty.

“Out of the way, Rick!” Shane growls. “Stay out of my way!” He turns his attention quickly to the panicking doctor. “Open that door or I’m going to blow your head off. Do you hear me?”

Shane, Rick and Lori begin to argue and (Y/N) takes that time to nudge herself and her family to the door. Doing so drags Merle along with them, as well as Daryl who willingly follows. The door is still intact, with scratch marks from the axes that had hit it only minutes prior. It felt like days had gone by since then, with everything coming out from under the covers in the last hour.

There were no buttons, nothing on the side panels, that could indicate freedom.

“I think you’re lying,” Rick’s voice cut in from her thoughts. The gun in Shane’s hand was gone and in someone else’s, someone more calm and collected despite everything. Though, she ponders, anyone else is more calm than Shane right now.

“You’re lying about no hope,” Officer Grimes continues. “If that were true, you’d have bolted with the rest or taken the easy way out. You didn’t. You chose the hard path. Why?”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jenner insists.

“It does matter. It always matters. You stayed when others ran. Why?”

“Not because I wanted to. I made a promise,” Jenner says. He points to the screen, faded but not completely dark. “To her. My wife.”

“Test Subject 19 was your wife?” Lori questions.

“She begged me to keep going as long as I could. How could I say no?”

(Y/N) wanted so badly to roll her eyes. It felt too cheesy, even during this highly stressful situation, and turned back to the door. Daryl somehow got his hands on another ax and, after making eye contact with each other, (E/C) meeting steely blue, began pounding on the door once more.

“She was dying,” Jenner began. He regaled the story of his wife, of how he felt she was the brains to the whole saving the world thing, if she didn’t get infected herself. If (Y/N) wasn’t already sour about his attitude, how he’s treated them since it came out that he had doomed them to their own fate without consulting them, she would’ve felt sadder. Instead she was still angry, probably more so. 

“Your wife didn’t have a choice,” Rick said, after Jenner was done with his sob story. “You do. That’s-- That’s what we all want -- a choice, a chance.”

(Y/N) continued to face away from everyone, watching as the blade of the ax bounced off the metal, Daryl’s muscles tensing with each impact and swing. Sparks flew, occasionally, but still, no marks appeared beyond that.

“I told you, the topside is locked down. I can’t open those.” He walked to a control panel, small and unassuming on someone’s desk. He hits a few keys, and a loud beep follows before the large metal door begins to shift and move.

In seconds everyone was on their feet, moving past the slowly moving door and into the rest of the hallway or going into the other hallway to grab their things within their small time frame. Jordan rushed to get their bags, swinging on the backpacks and grabbing their lucky hammer, and handing one of the backpacks to (Y/N). The (H/C) haired woman kept Fabian’s hand in hers, leading him in front of her to follow Jordan as they made their way to the emergency stairwell and back up into the main lobby.

Daryl and T-Dog were leading the way in the front. The light of the world felt bright, even brighter than the fluorescent lights from down below, and the heat felt glorious. It went away as soon as they got to the glass windows and door, the latter locked tight. The two men were banging on the glass, trying to shatter it to get them out. 

(Y/N) tucked Fabian closer to her side again, dragging Jordan to stand on the other as she felt useless in waiting to see if they’d make it out at all. Merle goes to join in the attempt, using his one good arm and a nearby lamp, the shade thrown off and the base in the air, to try and get it open.

“Get them doors open!” Glenn pleads. 

“Wait a minute! Wait a minute!” Rick says. He’s rifling through one of the bags he brought, as T-Dog moves to one of the many keypads to try and get the doors open that way.

Shane moves in, banging against the glass with another ax.

Eventually, even with a chair thrown at the window, the glass does not break. It feels like hours had gone by, but likely there had only been seconds, and (Y/N) distantly wondered how much longer they had. There was barely five minutes left when they managed to convince Jenner to let them leave, but how long had it been since?

“Everyone out of the way!” Rick suddenly calls. He has something in his hand, and Carol is already shuffling away behind a potted plant with Sophia. Following her example, the rest of the group, minus Rick, find easy cover. The sheriff takes something off from what’s in his hand, fine and needle-like, and the metal schwing of the pin of a grenade is heard as clearly as a clap of thunder. He sets the grenade on the base of the windowsill, and barely makes it to cover before it explodes.

Glass is sent flying, and a few scratch (Y/N)’s arms as she uses her body to cover Fabian. 

When it finally stopped raining shards, she peeked up and around the couch they hid behind. Only one window broke, but it was enough for them to go through and escape. 

(Y/N) pushed Fabian forwards, urging him to follow Jordan as she stood up. Her joints popped, and her hand nicked against a large piece of glass. Thin droplets of blood spilled in slow rivulets, but not enough to concern her as she crunched across the ground to follow her family. 

Daryl was helping Jordan down, then Fabian, and when (Y/N) came around, the last of the group to leave, he saw the blood on the palm of her hands. His eyes widened, glancing up with the silent question behind his eyes. 

She shook her head, more focused on trying to leave, but gladly accepted the help down from the window ledge. It wasn’t too far from the ground, but her bones felt too brittle for her age right now. 

Merle was standing guard with Daryl’s crossbow in his arms just a few feet away, his uninjured hand on the trigger, and once (Y/N) cleared the building, he followed from behind with the weapon raised as Daryl trudged forwards with the ax. Shane and Rick took down some of the walkers up front, the herd from only the day before now shuffling back to surround the building with the blast of the grenade echoing around them. A few came up from the sides, and a bolt and a swing of the ax kept them at bay from getting those in the middle of the pack.

Eventually they get to where the cars are parked. Many get in the RV, and (Y/N) doesn’t hesitate to jump into the passenger seat of the Subaru and rifling through the glove compartment and looking for one of the many band-aids they had begun stashing in there. Gauze would work best, but she doubted she’d find any right now. Fabian scrambled into the backseat, Jordan joining in the driver's seat, and with nearly everyone in a vehicle and the walkers far enough away, Daryl and Merle climb into the truck as well. 

The RV was in the front of the convoy, the first to turn on but it didn’t move. (Y/N) began to wonder why, until her eyes caught sight of two figures running across the parking lot and courtyard. 

Dale, with a struggling Andrea, were quickly catching up until an explosion erupted from the building. The two take cover behind some sandbags, dodging just in time as debris flies from the CDC building. Fire flew up into the air, and the explosive shock knocked down anything not bolted down. 

Walkers fall, some hit by pieces of building while others were merely pushed by the blast.

The blast even pushed the cars and (Y/N) squeaked as she felt the force of the explosion from inside the car, the heat almost unbearable in the already hot Alabama sun, and Fabian screamed from the back of the car. 

It was over as soon as it began, and Dale and Andrea stood back up, stumbling towards the RV on shaky legs. 

Then they were back on the road, the RV leading them back the way they came, with Daryl and Merle, in their truck, following in the back.

Chapter Text

Chapter 18: A New Path (Day 65 -66)

They had to leave the Dixon truck behind once it ran out of gas. Merle wasn’t too happy about it, as only one person could ride the motorcycle and Daryl was the only one who was physically capable of doing so. Dale, ever so kind, offered a space in the RV despite the sour looks that Lori didn’t even try hiding as soon as he words went out of his mouth. The burly man grunted, still displeased over the whole ordeal, but declined. (Y/N) could tell it was a hard thing for him to do, and she no doubt figured that Merle had actually wanted to take up the offer just to piss Lori off. Instead he sauntered over to (Y/N), Jordan and Fabian after moving around the stuff left in the pickup. 

A few more miles down the road, another car broke down, Carol’s car, and that led to her and Sophia joining the crew in the RV with the others. 

The rest of the day wasn’t as terribly exciting. The women had grown sick and tired of the music they had stashed in the car and there was hardly anything on the radio. A few military broadcasts were still airing on AM radio on repeat every five minutes, luring naive survivors towards already run down basecamps. It was silence for the entire ride, when it didn’t include a random anecdote that popped in someone’s head.

When they pulled over for camp, the roads too dark to maneuver anything around, (Y/N) felt exhausted. The heat of Alabama was not for her, too humid and she was tired of sweating. She missed the air conditioning at the CDC. 

Daryl joined them when they made camp. Everyone had made a circle around a small, glowing fire. There was a silence that felt too thick to cut with idle chatter, but wanting to sit through it was a different struggle altogether. The children, though barely tweens themselves, could recognize the difference in atmosphere the last forty-eight hours had been, and were quietly whispering to themselves as they feasted on the few rations that someone was smart enough to grab before the CDC decontaminated everything.

“Is Fort Benning anything at all like the CDC?” (Y/N) asked the Dixon brothers once families began dispersing for bed. Rick and Shane had let the group know of their plan to leave the city as soon as possible in the morning just before everyone had finished eating.

“It’s a military base,” Merle shrugs. “What else is there to say about it?”

“Well, for one, I didn’t know it was a military base,” she responded. “For all I knew, it was an old American revolution bunker that’s used now as a tourist trap.”

“Could still be a trap,” Jordan put in. “CDC was a bust, and you saw how many military vehicles were still there among all those dead. Could be the same there, but worse.”

(Y/N) could see how that could possibly happen too. She felt uneasy putting faith in it. Felt even worse for feeling like she couldn’t trust that it was safer than where they were. But she felt like they were running around with their head cut off for longer than necessary, and she didn’t want to keep putting Fabian through every disappointing plan just to keep him safe. It was becoming exhausting, keeping up the pretense that there was a safe haven for them with the government at this point. 

Seeing all those government owned camps on their journey to Atlanta, her parents' obvious demise for being in a supposed safe zone, and now the CDC’s lack of answers and safety were quite telling that it was unlikely that there was any place nearby that was safe. She didn’t want to put her son through that again if Fort Benning was just another bust.

They turned in for an early night.

(Y/N) cursed early mornings even before the unfortunate turn of events. She liked to think she was a morning person, having to get up pretty early anyways to get both herself and Fabian ready for the day, but it was all bullshit. Forced Early Birds were never truly Early Birds, and she loved having days where she could just sleep in until eight or nine in the morning. 

This morning was no different. 

There was a lack of coffee or even tea (which she would have gladly taken even if all she got was a small tiny cup of lukewarm water for it) so (Y/N) struggled keeping her eyes open as she shrugged on a thin flannel over her sleepshirt. Jordan wasn’t doing much better, and Fabian leant against his mother as she tried to get him somewhat dressed for the day as well. 

It was a quiet morning, A few gave them quiet good mornings as they went about packing up their camp. Merle gave them a grunt, Daryl a polite nod, when the trio made it to their parked car in a messily dressed and barely awake piece. (Y/N) was running her fingers through the knots in her hair, chewing on a stale granola bar, while watching the rest of the Atlanta group pack their belongings in the cars and the RV. She took note of Rick wandering to a thicket a few feet away, fiddling with a handheld radio as he did. 

(E/C) eyes sliding back, she caught the intense look on Shane’s face as he too watched Rick walk away before he shifted to look more relaxed once Lori came out of the RV behind him to get the last of the Grime family’s things. (Y/N) couldn’t help but glance towards her best friend, eyebrows raised and feeling more awake at the Tea before them, and saw the same look on her face.

“What do you think that was about?” (Y/N) whispers. 

Jordan shrugs, crumpling the wrapper of her breakfast and stuffing it in their assigned garbage bag. “It’s weird though,” she says. “Definitely suspicious.”

“You think…?” (Y/N) begins, but her attention is caught in seeing Rick walking back and seeing a total mood change appear once again on Shane. This time his whole body looked tense and didn’t match the casual look he forced on his face. When Rick and Shane meet, it doesn’t change, even with the lazy smirk crawling across his face.

“So weird,” Jordan says.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

“The fuck you bitches on about?” Merle grumbles, grouchy. He had complained about his wrist, which (Y/N) had tried to help re-wrap before giving up with the older man’s already asshole attitude being seven times worse that morning. The pain or itchiness or whatever was causing his mood wasn’t helping with his now increased withdrawal from the hard drugs that (Y/N) had Daryl help her find and dispose of (meaning that she had no doubts that the younger Dixon had merely found a new hiding spot for them). 

“You seriously can’t be denying that Shane’s been acting suspicious since we arrived at the CDC,” Jordan retorts, an eyebrow raised. 

“It’s been three fucking days, of course not,” he bites back.

Jordan merely rolls her eyes. Daryl shifts against the car, but his eyes were now watching as the two ex-officers interacted.

(Y/N) took mercy on the man. “It’s been shifty since he woke up with scratches on his face,” she explains. “Almost like he’s hiding something. Reminds me of some of my kids when they tried to sneak candy from my candy drawer back in the day.”

“You think he stole some candy from Officer Friendly or somethin’?” 

“Not actual candy, but maybe something more adult friendly.”

Merle raises a brow, obvious disbelief on his unshaven face.

“We think it has something to do with the wife,” Jordan implies. 

“They did disappear together a lot back at the camp,” Daryl mutters quietly. “Not even a blind man could miss that.”

“Exactly!” (Y/N) adds in. “You must be needing glasses sooner rather than later, old man. Can’t see the drama so blatantly obvious in front of you anymore!” She gives a mean teasing smile in Merle’s direction.

Before he could retort (loudly at least), Rick and Shane called for everyone to finish packing and to hit the road. Merle grumbled something unsavory in their direction but slumped into the backseat of the Subaru, letting everyone else clean up in his stead.

Chapter Text

Chapter 19: Horde (Day 66)

It wasn’t too long until they had to pull over. Many times that morning there were stops where one or two cars were in the way, and they had to stop to allow someone to move it further off the road, but this time there were too many cars in the way. It didn’t help that at the same time the RV breaks down.

Everyone stepped out of their cars, Daryl moving the Dixon motorcycle through the mess and going further ahead to park near the RV before getting off. (Y/N) followed Jordan, Fabian’s hand in hers, as they crowded around the smoking vehicle. 

“I said it. Didn’t I say it?” Dale grumbles. “A thousand times dead in the water!”

Shane shuffles forwards, getting a good look into the inside of the RV’s hood to see what Dale could possibly be complaining about. “Problem Dale?”

“Oh, just a small matter of being stuck in the middle of nowhere, with no hope of--” he cuts himself off, muttering something that (Y/N) couldn’t hear.

“Can’t find a radiator hose here,” Shane merely replies. He takes a closer gander around the engine and then glances around at the other cars. (Y/N) did too, on reflex, and couldn’t see anything of worth herself, merely flinching when her eyes met with a harsh glare of the ever-warming sunlight.

“There’s a whole bunch of stuff we can find,” Daryl argues.

“Can siphon more fuel from these cars for a start,” T-Dog backs up.

Carol nods, more sure of herself in days.” ‘Maybe some water.”

“Or food,”

Lori huffs. “This is a graveyard. I don’t know how I feel about this.” (Y/N) hated agreeing with that, but she wasn’t a natural born scavenger. The most she’s done is scavenge the local Target and Walmart during the few times she went Black Friday shopping before she realized waking up at two in the morning wasn’t worth paying a few bucks less for something she can wait to get later.

Shane orders everyone to look in the cars, splitting up in small groups. Merle and Daryl opted to look alone, arguing that they can find stuff faster on their own. (Y/N) figured both men wanted the opportunity to finally get time with only their thoughts, as both brothers wandered in opposite directions. Both men were introverted in a way that (Y/N) had no doubt that they were surviving off of social fumes these last few days. 

Jordan, Fabian and (Y/N) wandered and looked in cars in the other lane. There weren’t many, a lot of the cars were going in the direction towards the city, but a few had managed to attempt driving there in the oncoming traffic lanes. One looked like it had actually crashed into another driver, and from the looks of it on the inside, neither driver managed to survive. (Y/N) made it so Fabian couldn’t see inside that one. 

In the cars they could open, clearly abandoned, they found a few clothes and some perishable food. A bag of unopened dog food was in the bed of a truck, which (Y/N) grabbed, as well as a set of cooking knives. They didn’t look particularly sharp, but the larger of the set looked well taken care of enough that it would help out in a pinch. She gave one to Jordan, who slotted it against her hip, carefully sliding it between her pants and her underwear. There wasn’t a sheath they could find, and (Y/N) made a note to herself to see if either Dixon brother knew an easy way to make one.

An hour in, and the trio began walking back to the RV with their goods. There wasn’t anything good after the first twenty minutes, a lot of the cars they searched looked pretty cleaned out of goods, but Fabian was happy to find a few new books in a car that had a tipped over child sized car seat. 

They managed to drop off some of the stuff and wandered over in the direction the others had gone. They caught up to Carol and Sophia, who were rifling through a suitcase filled with thin frilly clothes alongside Lori and Carl, when a whispered shout from Rick caught their attention. 

“Under the cars!” Rick whispers, grabbing his wife and pulling her towards the nearest vehicle. “Get down!”

Carol was pulled with Lori, who looked just as frail adn fearful as if Ed was back from the dead himself, and Carl ushered Sophia under the other car. In confusion, (Y/N) stayed put until what caused the panic finally came into sight. 

A large horde, the largest that (Y/N) had ever seen, was ambling down the road in the direction they had just come from. The road had curved down slightly, allowing the Atlanta group the chance to see it in the first place as they were ambling up the road while they were just down, and it didn’t seem that the horde had yet to realize that a feast was just a few yards away. 

Without further hesitation, (Y/N) grabbed Fabian and helped him slide under one of the other cars, just behind the one Sophia had hid under. Jordan had easily slid under with the child, a gentle hand on Sophia’s back to try and help the little girl stay calm.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure if the others were doing the same, or if they had noticed the horde at all, but she bit her lips hard to try and calm her breathing, a hand clasped around Fabian’s wrist and the other slowly reaching for the hammer hanging from her shorts. If it came to it, she would defend her family, even if the situation she was in would no doubt be against her favor. 

The silence was deafening. She didn’t know if she was hearing the shuffling of their feet or their moans or if it was the loud beating of her heart jumping heavily behind her throat. 

Looking around she could see Lori laying her body over Carol’s from the car just adjacent from her, the older woman wiggling and shaking as they looked at the car beside them. Feet in various stages of decay and disrepair passed by in awkward flurries of dust, bringing the stench of rot that stung her eyes.

One stumbled and hit the side of the car that they were under, startling (Y/N) and Fabian let out a whisper of a squeak, curling up against his mother in an attempt to get further from the edge of the car's shadow. A cold sweat dripped down her arms, making the flannel cling to her skin, and she tried to focus on the irritation of her skin to calm her racing pulse as the walker righted itself and continued on its way.

Soon, maybe a few minutes, maybe a half hour, the shuffling died down, the echoes of their trudging feet fading as they meandered through the pile up of cars in their never ending search. (Y/N) could barely see if it had truly ended, but she stayed still, keeping Fabian down as well, her arm now curled around him in case one of the walkers happened to be slightly smarter than the rest and decided that now was a good time to learn how to re-tie its shoes. 

Sophia must have thought it was done as well, and despite Jordan trying to reach for her, the woman wasn’t fast enough. The little girl startled when a stray walker stepped to close, the sound drawing it to crouch down and began crawling towards her. 

In a feat of strength that (Y/N) had only seen come from the dark skinned woman a few times, Jordan grabbed Sophia and rolled her out from under the car, effectively taking her further from the walker, but now they were in view of another. The first walker continued to crawl under the car, and Sophia screamed, clinging to Jordan as the second stumbled towards them as well. They must have been stragglers of the group. 

Then she bolted, leaving Jordan behind who quickly called her name and followed after. The walkers, both now standing, chased after them, slowly but with the promise of a meal. The two disappeared into the woods. 

In seconds, everyone was up, Carol rushing past the cars to the side barrier that Sophia and Jordan had jumped over. Rick, with a rifle in hand, was running and hopping over the side rail. Lori held the sobbing mother back, comforting her as they watched the treeline in despair and hope. 

(Y/N) was tense as she watched beside her, clinging to her son and keeping him close to her side. She could hear running steps coming to join them, but she didn’t register who. The (H/C) haired woman didn’t truly understand what her best friend was feeling when she didn’t return to camp with the others. She could guess, but the cold hand grasping her heart and threatening to pull it out from her mouth allowed her to truly understand the fear that raced through her. The only thing keeping her from breaking down was her kid standing next to her, as well as the relief that Jordan wasn’t running around defenseless. 

That hope was lost when Rick came stumbling back without anyone with him. 

The sound that left Carol was one that brought tears to her eyes and she had to turn away, shoulders shaking as she held back her own sobs, sniffling and using the back of her sleeve to wipe at her stinging nose. Fabian sniffled beside her, hiding his face into her side as Rick looked up at them all, panting and soaking wet, with his face dropping as he realized that neither of them came back.

Daryl, Shane, Glenn and Rick soon went back out into the woods. 

(Y/N) and Fabian were sitting by the RV, which they managed to move closer, looking out into the treeline. The young boy had fallen asleep, leaning against his mother, who kept watch as everyone else got ready to camp out for the night. Some were moving cars while they waited for further news, others were back to looking for supplies. Dale was on the top of the RV again. 

“Daryl’ll find them,” a voice said gruffly. Merle sauntered over, arms crossed as he glanced quickly over to the forest. “May have helped teach ‘im everythin’ he knows, but I can admit he’s the best tracker I’ve ever taught.”

(Y/N) tried to smile in gratitude, but it felt awkward and like she was lying with her face. She just felt so exhausted now, her eyes puffy and itchy and no doubt a bright red. “I know she’ll be fine,” she croaks out. “I can’t imagine what Carol’s going through though, could barely understand, truly understand, what Jordan was feeling only a few days ago, but I think I know it too well now.”

Merle sits, loud and crude, and he fiddles with a peeling edge of his bandage. It was white that morning, but now it was beginning to gray with the dust around them. 

“My little brother ain’t much of a talker,” he starts. “Never has been, not that it matters. But he’s stubborn. And likes returning favors.”

“Favors?”

“Told me ‘imself, b‘fore he left,  that he was gonna find your friend and keep her safe, since you did the same for him. Not that I needed it at the time, but I guess I can admit tha’ it wasn’t the best time to be high off my ass. Stupid, even, if I were to go that far…”

“It was one of the stupidest things I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life and I worked with kids, who can be pretty stupid.”

“I’m tryin’ to make you feel better, and you’re insulting me.”

“Oh, were you trying to make me feel better? I thought you were trying to brag about how much of a dumbass you are.”

Merle scowls, but doesn’t fire anything back. Instead, he leans back until he’s up against the side of the RV, arms crossed. 

“Thanks though,” she says, after a few moments of silence. “I just want them both back in one piece. Daryl doesn’t even have to be the one to bring them, I don’t want him to think that’s his only job, to find people.”

“He’ll think that anyways,” the older Dixon grumbles. “Soft hearted dickhead, he is.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 20: Gunshot and Church Bells (Day 67)

The small group had returned empty-handed, the only good news being that there were no signs of Sophia or Jordan being eaten by the walker that Daryl and Rick had found and cut open. They agreed that having more people would help cover more ground, and a plan for nearly everyone out searching the woods was made before a long restless night began.

They didn’t bother setting up tents, instead they all hunkered down in their cars or in the RV. (Y/N) and Fabian had the subaru to themselves that night, Merle taking the first watch and planning on conking out on the floor of the RV after someone else took over. Daryl had been pacing long after the last embers of the cooking fire grew cold and dark, and he and his brother just watched the treeline and the highway in silence.

The next morning, (Y/N) had decided to stay behind with Dale and T-Dog. As much as she wanted to go into the woods and look for her best friend and the child she chose to chase after, she wasn’t sure she had the energy to be a good search party. There were enough hands as is.

While the group was gone, (Y/N) went about putting things into order, Fabian following her around as they continued to look into nearby cars. At one point, when the sun was almost directly above them, she walked back to the RV and took a look at T-Dog’s arm. 

The man had managed to get it cut on a piece of sharp material just before Daryl pushed him down, out of sight from the herd of walkers that had passed them only the day before. Someone else had wrapped it, she couldn’t recall who, but (Y/N) wanted to make sure there isn't anything wrong going on with it.

“Doesn’t hurt too bad now,” T-Dog tried appeasing her. But the color of the wound, as well as the smell that was beginning to emit from it, didn’t look too promising. 

“When Daryl gets back, we’ll ask if there’s anything he has in the hidden stash?” she assured the man. 

“Hidden stash?” Dale asks. He was taking a break from the sun, resting in the shade after spending most of the morning watching the horizon from the roof of the RV. 

(Y/N) nods. “Yeah, drugs, from Merle. I confiscated it after we got back from Atlanta and his outrageous stunt that got us nearly killed, but I didn’t want to get rid of it. Some of it was some pretty strong painkillers, prescription kind too. I’d end up caving if he got too annoying, so I asked Daryl to find a good hiding spot and hold his ground.”

“Is that why that racist asshole is more bitchy and agitated?” T-Dog jokes.

“Oh yeah, withdrawal sucks. I’m not looking forward to the more physical violent episodes, but maybe we’ll have something that’ll help get that aggression out come along.”

Re-dressing the wound with a new cloth and tying it tight, (Y/N) took off the rubber gloves and glanced around to find a good place to dispose of them. A nearby car, windows broken and empty of anything, was as good as a trash can as any. 

Soon, a quick small lunch later, they were back to looting around, finding a few more bits and bobs for them to keep. There were too many clothes, many of which they didn’t really need as they’ve already gathered enough. (Y/N) was hoping to find some winter clothes. Despite the heat of the sun, there was still a chill at night that was getting colder with every passing day. She was sure at this point they had to be nearing the end of  October, and even with how far south they were, it still got pretty cold if it ever snowed.

There were a few child-sized puffy coats, bright pink and covered in rainbows, found in a car that was further down than they had searched before. Two carseats, covered in Hello Kitty and Dora the Explorer stickers, were in the back of the car. A sparkly purple backpack was on the floor, knocked over in the rush to escape. 

(Y/N) grabbed them, just in case. They would be a little small for Fabian, but Carl was only a few inches shorter and Sophia would probably appreciate it when they found her.

A gunshot.

It was very faint, reverberating against the trees and the echoes caught by thick branches heavy with aging leaves. But they could hear it all the way to the RV. 

Fabian perked up and looked at the woods, curious and he could feel the familiar fear slowly spill into his stomach like the drip of a faucet before a deep freeze. 

“It’s probably nothing,” Dale suggests, trying to keep the small group calm. T-Dog was clutching his arm, having jostled it when the initial sound startled them. “Probably found something to eat, like a deer. I think I remember Shane and Rick talking about doing so if they had time.”

“It did sound pretty far…” (Y/N) agreed. “But it might be best not to let our guard down. Walkers managed to find you guys at the quarry, that herd from yesterday… they could probably come back and find us this time if they could hear that too.”

A scream, short and shrill, resounded soon after. They all tensed, Fabian curling into his mothers side and gripping her hand, and they continued to listen quietly for anything else. 

An hour later, as the sun begins to set below the tops of the trees, the search group finally returns. It doesn’t escape anyone’s notice that they were considerably smaller than when they had left. 

“Shot? What do you mean shot?” Dale asks, once one of the group explained what was going on.

“I don’t know, Dale,” Glenn says, frazzled. “All I know is this chick rode out of nowhere like Zorro on a horse and took Lori.”

“You let her?”

“Climbed down out of my asshole, man,” Daryl grumbles. “Rick sent her. She knew Lori’s name and Carl’s.”

So that explained the shot they heard, (Y/N) thinks. She takes note of who was missing: Shane, Lori, Rick, and Carl. It was strange, that the entire family from Kentucky, was now separated from the group, the cause of another tragedy, and were somewhere on a farm nearby.

“We heard screams,” Dale continues. “Was that you?” He looks over at Andrea, who looks annoyed at it being brought up at all. She had been particularly nasty since their leave from the CDC, especially towards Dale. (Y/N) could understand a bit, her choice being taken from her, but her anger towards the situation came out at the wrong times.

Glenn answers again. “She got attacked by a walker. It was a close call.”

Dale moves in, parental mode activated, and he begins assessing the blond woman who frowns even further.

“Did you find anything at all?” (Y/N) asks them. 

“A church filled with those undead fuckers,” Merle says. “Nothing else.”

(Y/N) frowns. “No clues?”

This time, Daryl butts in. 

“Nothin’. But we’ll keep looking. There’s no way they could’a just flew away and disappeared. I’ll find them”

(Y/N) hummed. The forest seemed so big, and knowing Jordan, she didn’t have the greatest sense of direction. But she knew she could at least figure out how to survive long enough, especially if they found someplace to shelter for the night. 

“I’ll find them,” Daryl repeats. 

“I’m sure you will,” (Y/N) agrees. She wanted to say something else, but she recalled Merle’s words from the night before. “Just don’t push yourself too far. You won’t be able to if you’re falling down hills cause you’re not letting yourself rest. Plus I know that Jordan can handle a little girl for a few more days while they wait for us to find them.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 21: Rock Pile (Day 68)

The night passed by slowly and full of heartache and anxiety. Despite her efforts, tossing and turning and trying to read by using what little light the halfmoon was giving, sleep was hard to find for (Y/N). Every sound felt like a whispered plea; the wind carried her name with a force that slammed against the windows of their car, trying to force its way in like a knife. She had known Jordan nearly all her life, being there for her when she made all her biggest choices and even talked her down from a few thousand stupid ones.

Despite her words from earlier that evening, she was worried. The relief of her having a weapon, the knife from one of the cars, was short lived. Sophia was a skittish child, one of the worst she’s seen in a while, and she wouldn’t be surprised if she bolted at the slightest noise in the woods. Jordan didn’t have much experience dealing with that kind of behavior, only hearing the handful of teacher war stories (Y/N) had spewed over the years, but hearing it is much different than experiencing it.

When the first rays of sunlight broke over the horizon, (Y/N) felt like a walker herself. Her eyelids were dry and sticky at the same time. Rubbing them felt like she was squeezing large grains of sand on her eyes but any attempt to clear it would have to wait. She felt like she dozed a few times, but never long enough to get a proper rest according to her brain, but her body felt like it hadn’t done anything else but sleep and was ready to go. 

She laid in the passenger seat on her side, the seat kicked as far back as it could go, watching as light slowly spread against the tops of the trees. Fabian was curled up in the backseat on the drivers side, snoring softly and Funshine bear tucked under his head as a makeshift pillow. Time ticked by slowly, but soon it felt like enough had passed to get up from her position and face the world with as much energy as she could muster. 

Waking Fabian wasn’t too hard to wake, which was becoming more common as the days dragged by. She only hoped that getting sleep would be easier for him than it has for her. (Y/N) knew she could get by just fine, missing a few hours of sleep. She didn’t want her son to experience it so early in life.

They were all packing the last of their things up before getting ready to go to this farm that Lori was taken to. (Y/N) had looked at T-Dog’s wound one last time before getting into the driver’s seat of the subaru.  Fabian moved to the passenger seat of the car, climbing in from the back seat and sticking his tongue out at Merle who had just reached the passenger side door. 

“You got balls, kid,” Merle grumbled. He looked huge in the backseat, despite how much room he had. “Most back home wouldn’t even dare attempt somethin’ like that with me.”

“Why? You’re not that scary looking,” Fabian said, wrinkling his nose. “You’re just old.”

“Look here, you little sh--”

“Language!” (Y/N) interrupts. “We do have young ears who hear much better than you’d think, and he will use whatever you say against you.” She gives the older man a glare worthy of a kindergartener who took things too far. “This is your only warning.”

“What, he gonna tattle on me the next time I say the word ‘fuck’?” Merle retaliated.

“You’ve never been around many children, have you?” was all (Y/N) could say, rolling her eyes before turning on the car and following the rest of the Quarry Group to this supposed farm. 

It wasn’t a long drive, about twenty minutes. Fabian was bouncing in his seat, looking as trees trudged passed as they slowly went around pulled over cars and piles of rotting corpses resting on the sides of the road. There was a lack of animal activity, occasionally a bird flew high above the cars, but it was just them and the Forgotten.

The farm came into view with a simple mailbox.

Greene .

A long dirt road led them to a large farm house with green roofs and blindingly white walls. A barn, which once was a bright red and was now a burnt maroon and clearly seeing better days, was a few yards behind it, the sides peeling. There was a lack of animals besides a few horses in a small stable on the other side of the farm, a field nearby for them to graze and run in. Everything else was wide and open, a few large trees dotted around what was probably grain and vegetable fields. (Y/N) felt that if the circumstances were different, they would be seeing corn, pumpkins and even a few orchards of apples growing.

They parked, exiting their vehicles and it was then that Rick, looking tired and haggard, stepped out from the front door. 

Shane followed. His hair, missing. 

A clamoring of worried questions prevented any progress in settling in, but Rick, and sometimes Shane, answered to the best of their abilities as they were asked before leading the group to where they could set up their things for their stay. (Y/N) brought out the tent, doing her best to set it up like previously taught, but it was difficult without Jordan’s help. Fabian could only do so much, but the two were able to get it done.

 Merle had meandered over to Daryl, the two Dixons finishing their own tent, which was the furthest away from everyone else, rather quickly before walking around the edge of the  farm. The eldest Dixon made it look simple, like they were merely walking through the tall grass like he was looking at prime real estate. Daryl, however, was stiff, glancing through the trees with arms crossed. 

“A funeral’s being held,” Dale informs her as she goes to the RV to rinse her hands from dust. “Once we’re all done here.”

“Oh? For who?” she asks.

“For the man who helped get the medical tools for Carl,” Glenn explains, the man resting in the shade. “He went with Shane, apparently, but didn’t make it.”

(Y/N) wondered if that’s why Shane was balding so fast. Maybe a walker grabbed his hair and ripped a patch out, and he fucked up evening it out. She gave a quiet chuckle to herself as she walked back to her tent to wait with her son, wishing Jordan was here so she could say her thoughts out loud and at least have someone laugh with her. The Dixon brothers could only understand so much of her humor without at least two powerpoint lectures for backstory.

Eventually Carol came around and let them know that the funeral was starting soon, so the two (L/N) and the two Dixons were standing amongst a crowd of familiar and unfamiliar faces.

“Blessed be God, father of our lord, Jesus Christ,” an elderly man, who was introduced as Hershel Greene, began the service. They all stood around a large rock pile, the faces of the Greene family and the rest of their household clumped together with shining wet cheeks. There had been no body recovered. “Praise be to him for the gift of our brother Otis, for his span of years, for his abundance of character…. Otis, who gave his life to save a child’s, now more than ever, our most precious asset…”

Hershel didn’t prolong his service, the man being a man of God but not one who studied under him, and once his words were said, he looked to Shane, the man standing further off than either Dixon brother had been over the last two weeks. He had a haunted look on his face, making his eyes look dark and sunken.

“Shane,” Hershel called his attention, “will you speak for Otis?”

“I’m not good at it,” Shane turned down immediately, looking away from the older man. “I’m sorry.”

“You were the last one with him,” a blond woman sniffled. “You shared his final moments. Please . I need to hear,” she paused, taking a shuddering breath. “I need to know his death had meaning.”

Shane paled but agreed.

“We were about done. Almost out of ammo… We were down to pistols by then,” he said. “I was limping. It was bad… ankle all swollen up. ‘We’ve got to save the boy’... See, that’s what he said.” Another pause, his eyes looking at the rock pile, yet also at nothing at all. “He gave me his backpack, shoved me ahead… ‘Run,’ he said…” 

He licked his lips, rubbing his head with a large hand. “He said, ‘I’ll take the rear, I’ll cover you.’ And when I looked back… If not for Otis, I’d have never made it out alive. And that goes for Carl too,” Shane looked up at the blond woman, then quickly over to Rick, and Lori. 

“It was Otis. He saved us both. If any death ever had meaning, it was his.”

Chapter Text

Chapter 22: Horses (Day 69)

The first day at the Greene farm felt like walking through an alternate reality. The residence seemed at peace with what was going on with the world around them, as if walking flesh eating monsters hardly existed unless something or someone happened to bring it up. After the funeral, everyone went to finish setting up what they couldn’t, and Rick decided to group up with a few others to plan out a good direction to look for Sophia and Jordan. One of the daughters, Maggie, brought out a useful map that helped visualize the area they were all in. 

Maggie and Glenn had gone out and come back within a few hours, though they both looked more rumpled than when they left. Merle gave a quiet chuckle upon seeing them come back, clothes more askew than should be normal, and (Y/N) merely rolled her eyes. Daryl was out with some others scouring the nearby woods with what little daylight they still had, so (Y/N) was stuck on babysitting duty until dinner. Merle may be having a good day, but that doesn’t mean he couldn’t easily go into a bad one. 

When the others came back, no sign of their missing group among them, dinner was more somber despite the relief of everyone else being okay. Carol was being comforted by Andrea and Lori the whole day, as well as the evening, before everyone turned in. 

(Y/N) could only guess how she was feeling. There had only been one time, back when Fabian was much younger and prone to slipping away, silent as a cat, that she had lost sight of the little four year old while out grocery shopping. (Y/N) had been too focused on trying to figure out the tiny washing instructions on a pair of shorts when he toddled away. She had been lucky; an elderly woman had been nearby and had noticed Fabian wandering around between the racks of clothing, and later noticed a frantic (Y/N), and had pointed the (H/C) haired woman in the direction of the clothing rack that Fabian had been recently hiding in. 

Losing a close friend, one that’s practically family, hurt terribly, and the worry gripped her nearly the same as when she had lost her child for a mere five minutes, but she knew that Jordan could handle herself for at least a week. The thought of such a young child, who was already scared of the sudden change of the world… (Y/N) knew if that was Fabian out there, she would be tearing the forests apart and anyone that stood in her way just to find him. 

The next morning, the sun was just as bright as the days before. (Y/N) squinted as it hit her eyes leaving her tent. Fabian, exhausted from the emotions over the last few days, stayed snoring away in his sleeping bag. 

Others were milling about in the field they had set up camp in. (Y/N) noticed that Carol was already walking towards the Greene house, walking with timid determination up the porch steps. 

Rick was standing around the map from yesterday. Shane, Daryl, T-Dog and, surprisingly, Andrea were looking at it with the sheriff, as well as a young man she recognized belonging to the Greene farm that she couldn’t, for the life of her, remember his name. Merle was leaning against a tree not too far. He didn’t look like he was actively listening to what was being said, eyes closed and arms crossed, but (Y/N) had no doubt that he knew everything that was being said.

The rest of the Greene family must have been doing chores on the farm or in their own house.

It didn’t escape her notice that Lori was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t bother to think on why that could be, the woman hadn’t been her favorite the last few days, and her behavior had been odd. If her husband noticed, he wasn’t being obvious about it to the casual observer like herself.

With one last look into her tent, making sure Fabian was still fast asleep, she wandered over to where the majority of the group was. Merle was taking up all the shade from the tree that was closest, so she ended up standing next to Andrea. 

The map looked like one that you’d find at a gas station in the middle of nowhere. There were a few marks on it with black ink, a circle for where she assumed they began and crossed-out areas that possibly could mean it was places they’ve already looked.

“Nothing about what Daryl found screams Sophia to me,” Shane mutters. “Anyone could have been holed up in that farm house.” He was sitting in the passenger seat of the truck they were using as a table for the map, elbows resting on his knees as he looked away from everyone.

“Anybody includes her, right?” Andrea argues, arms crossed.

“ Whoever slept in that cupboard was no bigger than yay-high,” Daryl says, gesturing with his hands. “And there were signs of someone bigger sleeping nearby. Could’ve been Jordan too, keeping watch.”

“It’s a good lead,” Andrea agrees.

“Maybe we’ll pick up their trail again,” Rick says. He seemed eager to placate all parties involved. Considering his role previous to the dead taking revenge against the rules of being dead, it’s probably a tactic he’s had to rely on often. 

Daryl shoots the man a small glare. “No ‘maybe’ about it.” He steps closer to the map, beginning to point to things along the thinning paper. “I’m gonna borrow a horse, head up this ridge right here,” he points to one, where (Y/N) could barely read from her position near the map, the words too upside-down for her eyes to figure out, “take a birds eye view of the whole grid. If she’s up there, I’ll spot her.”

“Good idea,” T-Dog agrees. “Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there too.” That gets a snort from (Y/N). She hides a smile behind her hand, resting her elbow on the hood of the truck and pretends to focus on the map despite the raised eyebrow that Daryl shot her. Immediately she knew he heard her.

Rick looked confused, and turned his attention towards the younger Dixon brother. “Chupacabra?”

Dale comes in, having been walking towards them from the RV behind them with a bag in hand. “You never heard this?” he asks the sheriff. “Our first night in camp, Daryl tells us that the whole thing reminds him of a time when he went squirrel hunting and he saw a chupacabra.” As he’s speaking, he’s setting the bag onto the hood of the car.

The unknown Greene member lets out a small laugh.

“What are you braying at, Jackass?” Daryl growls at him. 

“So you believe in a blood-sucking dog?” Rick asks, also grinning.

“Do you believe dead people walking around?” Daryl retorts.

The Greene man (who was really just a boy, he looked maybe five or six years older than Fabian, who was just entering the double digits of life) was reaching for one of the guns that were in the bag, when Rick stopped him.

“Ever fire one before?” he asks.

“Well, if I’m going out, I want one,” the boy responds.

“Yeah, and people in hell want slurpee,” Daryl fires back.

Rick placates again, offering training for the boy the next day and (Y/N) is wondering how far Rick’s going to go with this technique before it begins to fail. She’s seen classrooms work for a few months before the only thing that can reign in chaos is someone who’s not afraid to make parents and children throw tantrums and cry. 

Eventually they all begin to agree on which direction each would take, with Jimmy, who was finally named and introduced to (Y/N), going with Andrea and T-Dog. Shane and Rick go together, and Daryl is going alone.

“Is that really a smart idea?” (Y/N) asks him. She followed him towards the barn, the one that wasn’t locked, where a few horses were milling about in their own stalls. It was like any other barn, though she couldn’t exactly say she’s been in a lot of them outside of the various pumpkin patch experiences she and Fabian had gone through before the end of humanity. “What if something happens? Like, you fall off your horse and get hurt?”

“I’ll be fine,” he grunts. He takes the reins of a chocolate colored horse and leads her out. “I know how to handle a damn horse.”

(Y/N) fought the urge to roll her eyes, instead using the energy to cross her arms in front of herself. “It’s not the horse I’m concerned about.”

“Then don’t.”

“You heard him, sugar,” Merle called out. He had grown bored once everyone split up, and decided to follow the only two that were tolerable to be around. “If things go wrong, ain’t nothin’ Darylina can’t handle. He’ll be fine.” Merle took post to lean against the open doorway. 

“Wow, I feel less worried now,” (Y/N) stated sarcastically. “I guess I’ll be able to go now and skip through a lavender field with no care in the world now that I know he’ll be fine by himself.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” Daryl muttered. He fiddled with a pack he settled onto the horse, eyes darting around, not focusing on a single thing before returning to the bag. Then he looked up at (Y/N), icy blue meeting (E/C). “I’ll be faster on my own,” he states. “I said I’d find them, and I will.”

(Y/N) felt her shoulders droop. 

“I know. But I’ve already lost one friend to those woods. I really don’t want to add another.”

“I’ll be fine,” he states again, eyes never leaving hers. He then turned towards the hose, climbing on and leading it into the direction of the woods.

Merle, grunting as he pushes himself off the peeling wood, stood next to the woman as they both watched the horse trot away.

“If I know one thing about tha’ brother of mine,” Merle starts, “is that he’s a pain in the ass when he’s got something he wants ta do. If he says he’ll do somethin’, he’ll find a way ta do it.”

“You must be in a good mood today,” (Y/N) says. 

“For now. Who knows what fucked up thing’s gonna piss me off later. Enjoy it while it lasts.”

“I have a feeling that you’re good mood is probably gonna piss me off sooner than anything pissing you off.”