Written for a prompt over at twd_kinkmeme on LJ!
Disclaimer: I do not own them, nor am I making any profit. Characters belong to AMC/The Walking Dead.
The leaves rustle on the ground as Shane pushes Randall further into the woods. The younger man falls, and as he tries to get to his feet, Shane promptly stops him. He pulls Randall into a sitting position, deciding that they were far enough into the woods; away from the farm, away from prying eyes, away from Rick. Shane looks at the other in front of him. Randall's hands are tied with rope in front of his body this time, his wrists still bleeding from the cuffs that were left in the barn. His shoulders are hunched, like he's tired, scared, and worried.
This proves to be true as Shane lifts the blindfold above Randall's eyes, letting it rest across his forehead. Randall instantly recoils as he sees who had taken him out of the barn. He won't admit it, but he's scared of Shane. How many times as that guy put a gun to his face? Too many to count, he thinks.
Randall starts mumbling through the duct tape that's currently covering his mouth. Shane lays his hands on the juncture between Randall's shoulder and neck, shushing him. "Hey man, shh, it's alright." Randall doesn't look like everything is alright. There's still fear in his eyes, fear of not knowing what's going to happen to him. He tries to back away from him, but Shane is stronger; his grip tightens, hands snaking into his hair, holding him in place. "Listen to me now," Shane begins calmly. "I'm gonna remove this tape, so's you can breath better, alright? You gotta promise not to make a sound, alright?"
Shane waits for Randall to respond, but the younger man seems too scared to move. Shane slowly begins pulling the tape off of his mouth. Randall makes a noise as he removes the tape, then moves to cover his mouth. There's more fear in his eyes now. Randall wants to yell for help, for anything, but he doubts anyone would come to his aid. They'd all believe whatever bullshit story Shane would come up with, rather than "the prisoner" who was just sitting in the barn, waiting for whatever, doing absolutely nothing (except for trying to slip his wrists out of the cuffs, but that's a different story).
"Shh, it's alright," Shane says again, contemplating removing his hand, but worried Randall might yell or do something. "It's alright," he says subconsciously, thinking it was safe anyways to remove his hand. Randall's breath hitches as he breathes in the fresh air through his mouth. He's still making small noises in the back of his throat. Randall is having a hard time keeping quiet, his fear of Shane essentially overtaking him. He doesn't want to die, oh please, he doesn't want to die.
Shane is starting to lose his patience. If Randall doesn't start calming down soon... well, let's just say he's running out of time. Rick will only spend so much time talking to his son, and who knows if anyone would decide to come into the woods for a random stroll. Shane looks around, paranoid about finding someone standing there, watching them. He sees none, thankfully, not even a walker.
Not a sound is heard, except for the wind blowing through the trees, and the soft pleads from Randall. "Please don't kill me," he says with a small voice, eyes begging.
Shane's eyes stay emotionless as he looks into the younger man's. He leans forward then, one hand cupping Randall's cheek, his other sliding down to rest on his shoulder, keeping him in place. Randall panics, thinking the worst, as Shane's hands tighten their grip. He can't help the whimper in his voice. "Please don't-"
"Shh," Shane says quietly and leans forward, softly pressing his lips against the younger man's. Randall suddenly stops moving, surprised by Shane's actions.
Shane presses small kisses to Randall's mouth and cheek, while muttering calming words in between each kiss. He gradually loosens his grip on Randall's face and shoulder, thumb lightly stroking the younger man's cheek. Randall's lips and skin are surprisingly soft, Shane notes as he moves down to gently suck on his neck.
He slowly feels Randall's body relaxing. He kisses his way back to Randall's mouth, smiling slightly when he feels the other's lips press firmly against his own. "See now, calm down, it's alright," Shane whispers, opening his eyes to meet deep brown ones staring back at him.
Randall takes a deep breath and looks off to the side. "So... you're not gonna kill me?" he asks, southern drawl more pronounced as he relaxes into Shane's touch.
Shane shakes his head, not quite answering Randall's question. Instead he asks his own. "Now I'm going to ask you something, and you better start talkin', boy. Where's your group?"
Instantly Randall denies knowing the location of his group. "I told you, I don't-"
Randall doesn't get to finish. Shane shoves the younger man's head, causing him to shift to the side. He grabs him by the shirt and pulls him back up. "Don't lie to me. Now tell me where they are," he says in a stern voice.
Randall swallows the lump in his throat and answers truthfully. "They have a camp about 5 miles up the road, but who knows if they're still there!"
Shane nods as he lifts his hands in a calming gesture, licking his lips. "Okay. You'll take me to them?"
"Why?" Randall asks, hesitant to comply. There are many possible reasons why Shane would want to be led to his group, none of them good.
Except for one simple reason. "I'm just 'bout done with this group, you know?" Shane rubs his head as he thinks. "They're doomed, I want no part of it. I'm done here," he explains quickly and smoothly.
"You mean, you really aren't gonna kill me then?" the younger man asks again, wanting to be sure.
Shane chuckles. "Come on man, if I was, you'd be dead. Come here."
Shane gently places both hands on Randall's face, cupping his cheeks. The older man closes his eyes and leans forward, like before. Seeing this, Randall also closes his eyes, waiting for the soft touch of lips against his own. Yet the gentle, calming kisses never came. Instead Shane suddenly tightens his grip and twists Randall's neck with all the strength he could muster. The sickening sound of bones cracking breaks the otherwise silence of the woods. Randall gives a surprised "Ah!" before he falls from Shane's grip, instantly dieing. His body lands on the ground with a thud, eyes still closed, neck disfigured from the injury.
The woods are once again silent. Shane opens his eyes, emotionless, staring off into the distance. His mouth hangs open as he stands, knees cracking from staying in the same position for too long. He takes a few steps back, not really looking where he's going. He turns and sees a large tree in front of him. An idea pops into his head, the perfect story to tell the others when he returns to the farm.
His plan is coming together nicely, he thinks to himself. Soon it'll be Rick's turn.