Author's Note: Well, here I am again after a long hiatus, with a new fic for a new fandom. After two years of resistance against the peer-pressure a Walking Dead-obsessed friend exerted against me, I finally broke down and watched the show. He was very pleased that I started watching it, though was rather upset that my favorite character ended up being Shane Walsh. Anyway, watching the show and reading fanfic gave me the bare bones of an idea for a fic, which only became stronger when I watched Shane die near the end of Season Two, and this is the first chapter of me playing with that idea. There will be lemons in this story from time to time, including this chapter, and while I have written such things before, this will be the first time I've shared one with all and sundry. Also, the story is entirely unbeta'd at the moment, so any mistakes you find are entirely my own doing.
Special Thanks: A big shout-out goes out to Violet Lylybelle for encouraging me to go forward with this and showing me that I'm not crazy for liking Shane.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. It belongs to people much wealthier and more creative than myself.
Pairings: Shane/OC sexual relationship
Warnings: Rated M for graphic content, including blood, gore, death, violence, profane language, and various adult situations. Readers under the age of seventeen are strongly discouraged from continuing further. Also, this is a Shane story written by a Shane fan, so if you don't like Shane, then please turn back and spare yourself the trouble of reading about a character you dislike. Finally, be advised that I am a slow updater, so do not expect the next chapter of this to go up for a while yet.
That is not dead which can eternal lie,
And with strange aeons even death may die.
H. P. Lovecraft
ONE: AWAKENING
'Dying hurts.' Shane realized that as he gasped and choked on his own blood, staring wide-eyed up at the man he once called brother as that same man screamed down at him in words he barely heard.
It was such a stupid thing to think of, considering he had seen enough people go through it; heard enough of their screams as they endured myriad gruesome endings, Otis only being the latest of them. The waxing gibbous moon shone overhead through the thin film of clouds, and he gazed blankly at it, struggling to breathe…struggling to think…struggling to hold onto another few seconds of precious life, even as he felt it ebb away from him.
*fight…kill…devour…*
Those words…funny how the voice speaking them was not one he recognized, but still felt like he had been hearing it for a long time, nonetheless. Not the voice of his friend, who now screamed into the night air, railing against the cruel path Fate set before the both of them.
*hunger…*
Yes, Shane knew hunger…hell, everyone in the group did. Supermarkets weren't exactly running smoothly now that the zombie apocalypse had come. Not that any of it mattered now, seeing as he was about to die.
*die…?*
'Yeah, die,' Shane answered, unsure as to why he was spending his last moments answering a voice that did not exist.
*SURVIVE…!*
The world exploded then, becoming white light filled with scorching heat, terrible fury, and absolutely ravenous hunger. It hurt, even more than the dying already did. Shane wanted to scream then, but that burning light would not let him, even as it somehow consumed him from the inside out. Images flared before him, his life flashing before his eyes. Desires, regrets, his deepest secrets, all of it poured out before the blazing sun swallowing him whole. Other images, more disturbing ones, flickered in and out among the rest, a dark and frightening counterpoint to his life.
*rend…*
Shane let out a roar of animalistic triumph, his hands bloody as he stood over the broken body of Ed Peletier. Strange how the fat bastard looked as though he'd been torn apart by a wild animal rather than beaten to death, though…
*slaughter…*
Shane stood on a hilltop overlooking the valley beyond, and as far as he could see, walkers and predatory beasts of all shapes and sizes fell upon one another; ripping, tearing, consuming each other in a ravenous frenzy. The smell of blood rose to meet him on a hot, metallic breeze and the hunger and heat boiling within him surged to greater heights…
*devour your enemies…*
Shane quietly padded through the woods, sidearm gripped tightly in both hands as he followed the trail of blood spatters on the fallen leaves. Moving as silently as he could, he came upon a clearing, where he found the source of the blood: a thin man dressed in the blood-soaked and tattered remains of a King County Sherriff's Department uniform, sprawled on his back amongst the leaf-litter, face turned away. Squatting next to the deputy was another man, dark haired and broad-shouldered, stripped naked to the waist, his back to Shane as he tore chunks out of the fallen man and presumably devoured them. One particularly strong tug jolted the deputy's body, turning his face the other way. Shane was horrified to see the glazed blue eyes of Rick Grimes staring back at him, just as he had the day the man in the stolen car shot him.
The other man stopped and stood up then, as Shane raised his gun to fire. When the attacker turned around, however, his blood went cold as he recognized himself beneath all the blood that streaked down his face and chest, partially covering the Lil' Bird tattoo inked over his heart. The other Shane stared back at him with slit-pupil eyes, bared his bloody fangs, and let out a deep, raspy hiss like a leopard before barreling toward him, claws raised to strike. Shane fired several shots, but the bestial clone kept coming…
*there is no other way to survive…*
Shane screamed as his bones turned to molten steel, while his nerves and muscles became barbed wire and lightning. He howled his agony to the uncaring world around him until his vocal cords frayed, and he continued to rasp long after his voice abandoned him…
*you cannot escape your hunger…*
Hunger yawned wide within him. Hunger for food, hunger for companionship, hunger for a mate; it all roared to life inside Shane and filled in all the previously empty places within him, numbing the pain until the world slowly faded into dim grey, then finally black oblivion.
…
The world was dark, yet somehow bright and clear at the same time. Sights, smells, sounds; all of it whipped around an extremely disoriented Shane in a cacophonous frenzy as he struggled to his feet in the grey dawn light. Walkers streamed past him in a seemingly endless horde, but somehow ignored the living morsel standing in their midst. The smell of wood smoke, burning and rotting flesh, blood, and the oncoming winter chill swirled around and through him, confusing his senses even further. He knew, albeit vaguely, that he should be afraid, that the putrid undead around him were a threat, but that no longer felt important. Shane tilted his head back and took several deep breaths, testing the air and briefly wondering why, when a smell hit that made his stomach growl loudly.
*hunger…food…*
He stumbled off in the direction of the smell, his pace drunken and unsteady, but increasing as he drew closer, until finally, he could no longer resist the urge drawing him in and sank under the rising dark wave.
…
When Shane came to again, the world still looked different, as though layers that had obscured his senses all his life had suddenly peeled away, revealing the true vibrancy underneath. He swallowed the last bit of food in his mouth, relishing the slick feeling of it sliding down his throat and the salty-sweet-metallic taste it left behind. He looked down at the source, one of Hershel Greene's cows, and noticed the walkers descending like a flock of vultures, though somehow still ignoring his presence. The old bastard would be pissed that he lost another one, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Shrugging wordlessly, Shane turned and started to head toward the house, figuring he had somehow gotten high, and intended to sleep it off until the world turned normal again. As he passed by the barn, he came to halt, staring at the burning wreckage and vaguely wondered how it happened.
*threat…!*
A frisson of fear rolled alongside a cold chill down Shane's spine, and he whipped around to find two living people creeping up on him. He felt a low growl rising up from his chest as the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and his lip curled into a snarl as he surveyed the two. One was a young man in his late teens or early twenties; taller than him, but lean with a runner's build; dark, curly hair just this side of kinky, startling blue eyes set in a face that could be described as pretty, and caramel skin hinting at biracial parentage.
*male…same-kin…rival…?*
Shane shook off the odd thought that ghosted through his mind just then, and turned his attention to the other intruder, a woman closer to his age than her companion's age. She was shorter and wiry, but her skin sagged a bit in places, suggesting she lost a lot of weight in a short period. Her light brown hair was a bit stringy, the ragged ends brushing over her neck as though she had taken a knife to it at some point. A long white scar stood out on her pale face, stretching from just below her right eye down past the corner of her mouth and under her jaw, and her green eyes glinted cold like gemstones as she watched him.
*female…same-kin…not-rival…mate…MATE…!*
Hunger rose within him once more, this time for something other than food as he looked over the woman with obvious desire. The woman stared back at him, and her icy expression slowly changed into a smirk. "Well now," she said, the scar near her mouth slurring her thick Southern drawl a bit. "I was startin' to think you were gonna be…unfriendly."
"We don't know if he is or not, Becca," the strange man retorted in an accent that Shane could not readily identify. The man's eyes narrowed as he watched him, waiting for him to make a move as he edged forward to put the woman behind him, out of reach.
*RIVAL…!*
The word roared in Shane's mind as a terrible snarl tore its way out of his throat, directed at the stranger. Strangely enough, the man snarled back at him, even as he drew a Bowie knife and held it with more than a little familiarity. "Bass!" the woman, Becca, barked, snapping both men's attention back to her before the fight could begin. "Put it away, Bass."
Shane laughed internally at the idea of the guy with the knife being named after a fish, but did not take his eyes off the man or his weapon. Bass did not put the blade away, but shot Becca an incredulous glare. "Are you crazy? You just saw him threaten me!"
"Yeah, well he just woke up, too, from the look of it. How the hell ya think you'd react if it was you?"
Bass's gaze shifted between Becca and Shane for several moments. Finally, however, he spat out a curse, put the knife away, and stepped back out of the way. Shane shot Bass a wary, sidelong look, but his attention mostly diverted back to Becca, who stepped a little closer. He watched her avidly, his eyes traveling up and down her body, and he couldn't help but lick his lips a bit. "Becca, are you sure you wanna do this?" Bass called, sounding more than a little disgusted.
Becca rolled her eyes, but did not look away from Shane, instead giving him the same elevator look he gave her. "Bass, like I said, the guy's just woke up. I dunno about you, but the first time I woke up, the first things on my mind were good food an' a good, hard fuckin'. Judgin' by the look of all that blood on him, I'd say he's eaten somethin' pretty recently, and judgin' by the state of his britches, it ain't gonna be much longer before he starts beatin' it out here for the whole world to see. Now, I didn't think you were that way and all, but if you wanna watch him jerk off—not that I blame ya since he's very nice to look at despite all the blood—then more power to ya. If not, then just fuck off somewhere for a while, while I get this taken care of."
"So what, you're just gonna fuck the redneck out here with all the creepers running around?" Bass groaned, running a palm over his face.
"Actually, no, I thought I'd get him inside and clean him up a bit, first," Becca snapped, shooting her companion a dirty look over her shoulder. "Don't tell me you're jealous, Bass."
"What, that he gets to fuck a fat old dyke like you? Not likely."
The harsh words came with a familiar sort of contempt, but no real vitriol, and Becca just grinned. "Kiss my ass, Bass! Go see if there's a sheep or something around here that the creepers didn't get yet. We both know you're more of a dirty goat-fucker, anyway."
Without waiting for a response, she took one of Shane's bloody hands in hers and led him up to the house. He looked around as they walked, faintly wondering where everyone else had gone, but could not bring himself to care much, as it took most of his concentration to keep from putting his hands all over the woman next to him and tackling her to the ground, whether she wanted it or not.
*MATE…!*
'Shut the hell up, you broken record! I heard ya the first time!' he snarled back at that other 'voice'.
"Hey," Becca prodded, snapping him out of his internal argument. "Ya mind tellin' me where the bathroom is in this place?"
Shane looked around then, slightly bewildered, as he had not noticed they were already inside the house. He blinked at her in confusion, but she did not speak again right away. Instead, Becca reached up and gently put a hand on the side of his face and caressed him, and he nearly purred at the contact. "I'm gonna help you, I promise," she told him seriously, "but we need to get ya cleaned up a bit and get your head clear, all right?"
He nodded and she started to withdraw her hand, but he caught her arm before she could pull it back, nuzzled his cheek against her palm, and then dropped a kiss on her wrist. Becca gasped quietly and trembled a bit, but he could not sense any fear from her, only anticipation. Shane smirked then, barely feeling the drying blood on his face stretching and cracking as he led her through the house to the bathroom, where she finally pulled free and turned the knobs in the shower, sighing with pleasure when the water came on without a problem. "Finally," she chuckled, running a hand under the water with glee. "I didn't think I was ever gonna see runnin' water again."
At that moment, Becca could have spoken Martian, as far as Shane was concerned, as the sight of her bent over the side of the bathtub, her shirt sliding up to give a tantalizing glimpse of skin, sent his heat and hunger swirling to new heights.
*MATE…!*
The 'voice' howled once more, and he could not help himself, running his hands over Becca's rear and up her back, slipping them under her shirt, pulling her close as he ground against her backside, letting her feel his growing arousal. Then he groaned as she rubbed herself against him, and he silently cursed the layers of clothing keeping them separated. Before he could attempt to solve that problem, however, she stopped, turned the showerhead on, and straightened before turning around to face him. "C'mon," she whispered as she pushed him back just a bit to make some space. "We don't know how long this water will last, so let's make the most of it."
Shane started to growl a bit with frustration, but stopped as Becca quickly stripped off her shirt, followed quickly by her shoes and pants. Once down to her underwear, however, she stopped and quirked an eyebrow at him, and smiled, "C'mon now, you can't expect me to just give you a show without gettin' somethin' in return, now can ya?"
He tilted his head a bit, but grinned back at her as he shucked off his jacket, followed by the button-down shirt beneath. The blood-soaked fabric let out a sound similar to peeling tape as it pulled loose from his skin, but it was gone soon enough, leaving him to struggle with his boots a bit before finally getting free and chucking them somewhere behind him. As soon as he was free of them, Becca reached for his belt and deftly unbuckled it, and then quickly unbuttoned his pants, even as he reached behind her to unfasten her bra. After several fumbling attempts, the hooks came free, and Shane quickly pulled it off her, just as she freed him from the increasingly frustrating confines of his pants and wrapped her fingers around him. He groaned audibly as she slowly stroked him several times and then stopped, and he quickly pulled her into a crushing embrace and kissed her hard, heedless of the blood still smeared on his face. Becca kissed Shane back just as fervently, her mouth opening to his, allowing his tongue to sweep in against hers. She tasted of sunlight, wind, and forest, with a hint of old blood and something unidentifiable that teased his memory, though he could not tell what it was.
*mine…mine…mine…*
The 'voice' repeatedly chanted that one word in the back of Shane's mind, and he could not help but agree with it. He pulled back for a moment, growling a bit as the legs of his pants refused to let him go, but when he shucked them off and looked up again, Becca had stripped out of her panties and stepped into the shower, rivulets of water streaming down her naked form. His eyes raked over her body, taking in the sight of her, and he quickly joined her in the shower, kissing her again with reckless abandon. Shane's hands roved over Becca's body, one sliding from her neck to her breast, his fingers teasing her nipple and causing her to gasp, while the other glided over her shoulder and down her back, squeezing her rear briefly before skating around front and between the two of them, searching blindly between her legs and slipping between her lower lips.
*mine…mine…mine…*
Becca gasped and moaned into Shane's mouth as his fingers found what they sought and danced against the little bundle of nerves that made her whole body tremble. He grinned against her lips, and then moved his mouth, dropping sweet little kisses down over her jaw and neck as he continued to stroke her. "Oh god, please," she moaned, her breaths coming as hard, fast pants now.
Shane stopped his kisses then, bringing his head up to look into Becca's lust-darkened eyes and said, "Of course, darlin'."
He then pressed her so that her back was against the wall, lifted her up so that her legs could wrap around his waist, and plunged into her, despite the potential slip hazard their position presented. She let out a loud cry then, and clung to him as he filled her. The sensation of her being so hot and tight around him felt as though it would drive him crazy, and made the voice in the back of his head roar with triumph.
*mine…mine…MY female…!*
"Mine," Shane growled, lightly nipping at Becca's lower lip as he gave a couple of experimental thrusts. "Mine!"
"Yours…oh god, don't stop!" she cried, bucking her hips against him in encouragement.
He found his rhythm then, pumping into her harder, encouraged by her moans and enthusiastic squirming. He rained kisses over her face and neck, and then bit down hard on the side of her throat, holding her fast as he grew rougher, practically slamming into her at this point. The move turned out to be Becca's undoing, as she soon climaxed and let out her loudest cry yet, and Shane groaned with pleasure as he felt her inner walls fluttering around him. He kept going, though, releasing his hold on her neck, but kissing and licking at the same spot he'd bitten as he felt his own orgasm building. When his release finally came, it hit him with the force of a blow, literally stealing his breath as every muscle in his body locked up and his mind went blank with ecstasy. Eventually, Shane drifted down from his high, and realized that he still supported a panting and shaking Becca with his own now-wobbly legs, so he withdrew from her with a small grunt and carefully set her down on her feet.
The two of them shared a blissful silence for the next few minutes, taking turns under the water and quickly cleaning up before the water grew too cold to stand. Afterward, Becca stood in front of the mirror, briskly toweling her hair dry as she finally spoke. "Goddamn man, that was amazin'. You do that for all the girls, or am I just lucky?"
*MINE…!*
Shane just smiled widely as he stepped up close behind her, dropping a kiss on her neck and letting her feel his swiftly growing erection against her back as his hands snaked around to caress her again. "Just hope you're ready for round two."
…
Several hours later, whatever had grabbed ahold of Shane finally let him go after several more intense sessions that left both him and Becca sore and completely exhausted. They eventually made it to a bed at some point, however, and were still there. Judging by the sound of Becca's even breathing, she had finally fallen asleep, even with his arm coiled possessively around her, and as his own consciousness finally faded, he could not help but tiredly wonder at his situation, how that 'voice' had growled and driven him relentlessly long after he should, theoretically, have passed out. 'What the hell is goin' on?'
