11. New

They adapted to their new lives quickly, not because it was easy, but because they had to. Because their survival depended on it. Their old jobs, their old lives, roles, relationships, routines, they all got thrown head over heals and they had to quickly adjust to the changes and take their new places or get lost on the mess and drown. It worked that way, previous social constructs and norms didn't exist under the dome, and the town came together, more or less, understanding that they needed to band together to survive. People became more helpful towards each other, more compassionate, more thoughtful.

But they also became more violent, more selfish, more distrusting. Because they knew how fragile their existence was, they knew the importance of self-preservation and survival, they became more aware of the need to protect themselves. When things didn't seem threatening, the people of Chester's Mill under the dome were the friendliest and most helpful. The moment they sensed a threat, things become very sinister very quickly.

It was on such a day, two people got into a debate outside the diner. The debate grew into a argument, the argument into a fight and before anyone understood what was happening, one of them pulled out a gun and shot the other. He bled to death on the sidewalk. He was a tailor before. The man who killed him owned a toy store.

Julia was just a few steps away when the shots were fired.

It was later in the evening and she was sitting in the living room, slightly in shock. She had just told Barbie about the day's events and his reaction was anything but what she expected. He just listened to her silently and when she was done, he just got up and marched up stairs without saying a word. She waited nervously for his return, and five minutes later he came back down, his jaw set and a frown all over his face. She watched as he made his way back and sat down on the coffee table across from her.

"I want you to take this," he blurted out and held out a gun towards her.

Julia's eyes widened with shock, she shook her head, pushing his hand and the gun it held away from her, "No," she said sternly.

His mouth tightened in a straight line and his brow scrunched. She was stubborn, he knew that, but he was not going to let this pass. She almost died today because two idiots thought settling an argument with bullets was the most logical course of action. Their lives were in danger every day and he hated that she walked around unarmed and believing in the inherent good of people at the same time.

"Please, Julia," he urged her but she remained insistent, crossing her arms and sitting back against the couch to emphasize her disapproval.

But if she was terribly stubborn, Barbie was just as stubborn if not more. He held her gaze, his plea evident in his eyes.

"Barbie, no, we're not going to start putting guns in untrained hands! It is the last thing we need!" she said, the exasperation evident in her voice.

His head dropped and he let out a heavy sigh. For a moment they just sat there. His eyes closed and the gun clasped tightly in his grasp while she sat across from him, leaning slightly forward with her knees brushing his. He finally looked back up, placed the gun on the table next to him and took her hands in his, holding them just as tightly as he had held that gun.

"I understand why you don't want to carry that gun, and you have to know that I hate that I have to ask you in the first place," he explained, "and I am not saying we should go out handing guns to every person in town."

He swallowed, looking up at her and urging her to look at him, really look at him, see the sincerity in his words, "I just… you could have died today and that… the thought terrifies me. It cripples me, I can't even think about it," he said, the emotions clear in his voice, "and I want nothing but to just be with you all the time, for you to never hold a gun but…"

"I don't need you to protect me all the time," she interrupted him and he let out a frustrated chuckle at her outburst. "I know, I know, you don't need my protection. You can take care of yourself, trust me, I know that," he said. She was his "run into the fire" girl and that was the problem. "And that is exactly why you need to have this, you never know when… when you might need it to protect yourself," he pleaded with her.

She smiled, warmly, appreciatively. For a slight moment she hated that she hadn't given him the benefit of the doubt. She moved forward to the edge of the couch, their hands still entwined between them. She rested her forehead against his and whispered, "thank you."

He breathed her in and sighed, "but I don't know how to use a gun, and I'm pretty sure I'd hurt myself before anyone else if I carried that thing around," she added as she pulled back slightly.

He smiled, pulling back as well, reaching up and playing with a stray curl that escaped her messy bun, "okay," he said gently. "Okay?" she asked, pleasantly shocked at his reply, and he nodded, "there's a but, isn't there?" she asked when she saw the slight mischief in his eyes.

He nodded again and reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pocketknife, "will you at least carry this around?" he asked.

She smiled, let out a short laugh and took the knife from him, a confirmation that she was okay with the knife. She moved forward, reaching up to wrap her arms around his neck, "thank you," she whispered, genuinely grateful for what he just did, before kissing him softly. He let her control the kiss for just a short moment before his arms wrapped around her waist and pulled her to him, and onto his lap.

"You're so damn stubborn, you know that?" he laughed and crashed his lips back to hers.

A slightly longer chapter! Yay! Hope you like this one. If you do, you know what to do :)