DISCLAIMER: I do not own the Walking Dead or any of it's characters. Robert Kirkman and Co. does. I do not make any type of profit from writing this fan-fiction. This is strictly for my and my readers' pleasure
CLAIMER: I own Arlen and his family.
RATED: R and is subject to change.
WARNING:This is going to be an YAOI/MALE+MALE story.
BETA READER: None; so there will be mistakes that I miss.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: The scenarios involved in this fan-fiction are fictional. The main character may also strike readers as a Mary/Gary Sue. If this fact bothers you, turn back now. Construction criticism is welcomed. No flames. This story is also being posted on my Mibba account.
"Speaking"
'Thinking'
"Cell Phone/Radio Speaking"
~PROLOGUE~
Laughter filled the tiny Savannah home, a family of five (six if you count the figurative bun in the oven) crowded around the dining table. A couple in their mid sixties shared similar features with the two other males in the room. The last member at the table, a young pregnant woman, sat in between the two obviously related young men.
"Arlen, I'm so glad you are home for the Fourth of July celebration. How long are you here for?" Cynthia, the pregnant woman, asked her brother-in-law.
Swallowing a bite of hamburger he was chewing, Arlen's smoky gray eyes met the green flecks in hazel orbs that belonged to the beautiful brunette his younger brother was lucky enough to marry.
"One week. My platoon has—"
"A week?" The aging woman with salt and pepper strands mixed with deep hone, interrupted her eldest son with shocked disbelief. "Last year, you had a whole two weeks with us."
Arlen frowned at his mother, but nodded.
"There have been uproars near the cities, so the military is sending in squads from different bases to maintain order. I'll be heading to Atlanta this Saturday," Arlen explained, his tone gentle in an effort to comfort his mother.
A sigh of relief came from the aging man beside his mother. The man's once ebony hair was now stark white, but he would argue that it was a light gray.
"At least you're not going back overseas. It was hell having to worry about you," Keith, Arlen's father, voiced seriously, before cracking a smile.
A hand slapped the back of Arlen's right shoulder, before the hand squeezed the ravenette's shoulder.
"Doesn't your lover live in Atlanta, Arlen?" Brett, Arlen's younger brother by three years, questioned with a mischievous grin aimed his way.
Arlen's brow twitched before he could stop it. He glared at his brother at his mother's and Cynthia's gasp of surprise and glee.
"Arlen! Why haven't you told us you've met someone? What's her name? Where does she work? Does she have children, because you know I would like some grandbabies before I go?"
"What does she look like? How old is she? Do I know her? Do you have a picture of her? Can I see it?"
Arlen had enough time to blink, but that was it as his mother and Cynthia barreled him with questions. Balling up a fist, Arlen punched his brother in the arm none too gently. He smirked at the 'ow' that left his brother.
"Well, Arlen, are you going to tell us about this woman who Brett already knows about?" His father asked, just as curious as the women were.
It was no easy feat to gain the eldest son's attention and keep it. His parents had learned this long ago when they tried to get him to settle down with a nice southern girl like Brett was doing. Being a field medic for the military always put a strain on Arlen's relationships, or so he claims as he would never date someone past a few days. Although, he has yet to inform his parents of the actual reason why none of his past relationships with the women they picked out ever worked. Taking a deep breath, Arlen began to answer their questions as vaguely as possible.
"I didn't tell you, because there is nothing to tell. Yes, I have been talking to someone, but we have yet to even meet. They have dark hair and brown eyes and no they do not have kids, nor have you met them before. They had their twenty-sixth birthday in December."
"Do we get a name at least?" Wendy, Arlen's mother, asked her son exasperatedly.
Arlen's eyes flicked over to meet his brother's matching gaze. He knew by the unspoken words, that his brother wanted him to go ahead and tell his parents. The twenty-nine year old hesitated before settling on giving them something.
"Rhee."
A/N: I will only be posting the prologue for right now. I want to finish up a few more chapters before posting anymore. Please let me know what you think.
~Reena