Full Summary: The world broke, everything went to shit and now coming across something as simple as a bag of chips is a commodity. You can't survive on your own, safety in numbers and all that. You either thrive or die. Nik's never been very good at survival - or being a team player - even before people went crazy and started snacking on each other. He thinks he's done alright so far on his own but he knows the time will come when having someone watch his back will be the deciding factor in whether he lives to see another day or not. Enter Woodbury. Exit one psychotic leader and a horde of homeless survivors. Enter Rick Grimes' posse and their mystical prison castle. Hopefully this time, things will actually work out.
Yeah, right. Well, a guy can dream, can't he?
BEHIND MY EYELIDS ARE ISLANDS OF VIOLENCE
I BEGIN TO ASSEMBLE WHAT WEAPONS I CAN FIND
'CAUSE SOMETIMES TO STAY ALIVE YOU GOT TO KILL YOUR
D N I M
Chapter 00 :
i've got a migraine and my pain will range from up, down and sideways
His momma - bless her rotten, flesh eating corpse - always said that when true tragedy strikes, you're hyper aware of everything. It doesn't matter how much time has passed, you always remember that exact moment with startling clarity. Her example was always the day the Challenger blew up - standing outside in the sticky Florida heat with the rest of her classmates, watching it fizzle and burn. Nik's example, well...the end of the world must have been pretty damn tragic because he remembers that day everyday, like it's happening right before his eyes, over and over on an endless flash-loop.
The voices and memories get so bad, sometimes he doesn't know if he's awake or still sleeping - if he gets any sleep, that is. He can still hear the screams, the moans, remembers the chaos and hysteria. Hell, he even remembers old Mr. Leonard chomping on Betsy, the local stray cat. Now, let it be said that he isn't exactly the picture of perfect mental health. But to be honest, he doesn't really think anyone can claim to be nowadays. The world's fucked and so are the people, going together hand in hand like a cheap two-for-one deal. Though he'll admit he's just slightly more unhinged than others.
It's the worst when it's silent. That's when the voices get loud, blaring through his skull like a blow horn, rushing over his own thoughts and smothering them. So, he tries his best to make sure it's never completely silent. He does anything to make noise, tapping his fingers or his foot. Any type of sound helps take his mind off the Pandora's box waiting to be opened in his head.
He kept to himself at Woodbury, and now that the Governor turned out to be a psychotic tyrant, he holes up in the prison. Other people never stop talking and he's already got enough voices tumbling around in his head without adding them to the mix. He drowns them all out by throwing everything he has into the chores; helping Carol in the kitchen, helping Glenn and Maggie with the fence, helping Hershel by playing nurse. He does it all, swift and silent.
And by the end of the day, if he's so exhausted that he crashes into dreamless slumber, well, he doesn't complain. Actually, he'd say it was a good day.
Now if only people disliked him as much as he dislikes them, everything would be peachy keen.
Author's Note: My first TWD fanfic, with a male OC. I've never done that before and hopefully I'm not too rusty at writing. I hope you all enjoy~ If you're interested in seeing how I envision Nik, there will be a link on my profile.