A/N: Hello, guys! So there are definitely some more lighthearted moments in this chapter, but I also tried to balance it out with some less happy stuff, so hopefully you enjoy. The chapter song is "Keep the Wolves Away" by Uncle Lucius, which to me honestly sounds like it could've actually been in TWD. It's just got that sound, ya know? Anyway, thank you all so much for reading and reviewing, I know I always say it, but it truly does mean the world to me!
13. Keep the Wolves Away
A shotgun bang, and the light above her head exploded in a flash of sparks. Mason ducked, throwing her arms up as she barreled into a walker and shoved it into the wall. Its back cracked with the impact. She kicked its head in against the concrete.
A cry went up behind her. Instinct had her ducking in time to avoid a blow to the head, and pivoting to pass side by side with her attacker. Her knife slashed his flank as he passed by.
He fell to his knees, dropping his now-spent gun, but there was no time to take advantage of this. A second, taller man raced toward her, raising a glass bottle.
Mason caught his wrist before he could smash it against her head. Her other hand wheeled round to stab him first in the stomach, and then in the throat.
Blood showered her face. She shook her head impatiently to clear her vision, and turned back to her first attacker.
Crouched on his knees, one hand pressed to the wound in his side, he was the easiest target in the world.
She didn't hesitate. The blade flashed as she drove it through the base of his skull.
It was only in the silence after that she realized she had an audience. The broken light sparked again as she turned to her right, where several yards down a long hallway, thirty people bore witness to her carnage.
Slowly, she breathed out the violence. Straightened her body, sheathed her knife. Red rolled down her fingers and dotted the cement floor.
The group flinched as she took a step toward them, so she retracted it.
"Wh—who the hell are you?" a man in front demanded. He had his arms spread, barring the way to a tall woman and two young kids.
Mason twitched. She was covered in blood. She was covered in so much of it.
Trembling, she held her hands out.
"It's okay," she said. "I'm here to help."
~m~
"Yo. You alright, dude?"
Jerry waved a hand in front of Mason's face.
"Uh. Y—yeah, yeah." She shook her head. "Sorry."
"Hey, it's cool, boss." He grinned cheerfully. "A poet's gotta daydream."
She prowled deeper into the thrift store. "I'm not a poet, Jear-Bear."
"Your poetry begs to differ."
They cleared the store without issue and set to work sifting through the racks and dividing clothes into two piles.
"Hey! What's the verdict on this one?" Jerry held up a fuzzy pink sweater dotted with multicolored pom-poms.
"Oh, shit. I thought I had a winner, but now I don't know." Mason held up her own find, a dress of vomit green and cheese puff orange.
"Woo, that is straight 70's, no chaser," Jerry said.
"It looks like they cut it from that carpet in The Shining."
"How about we split the difference?"
Mason laughed and they both tossed their ugly finds in the Saviors pile.
They moved quickly, gathering a variety of sizes and types and splitting them among the boxes. Every few minutes, Jerry would holler the name of a song and Mason would sing it. Inevitably this led to both of them dancing through the aisles, belting out the lyrics to "Paparazzi" by Lady Gaga.
"Okay. Dude." Jerry held his hands out when they reached the end of the song. "You really need to stop distracting me."
"You really need to stop requesting absolute bangers."
But for all the lightheartedness, all the games they tried to turn this trip into, they couldn't ignore the end result of their labors. They examined the Saviors pile, twice the size of the one meant for the Kingdom.
"Half our shit, my ass," Mason muttered.
"Yeah… But, hey, at least you found those shoes for Ava! She's gonna be the flyest one in the joint."
"Eh, she's already cooler than most of the adults I know."
"True that."
It was still dark as they loaded the truck. This little town was the furthest they'd ventured out for supplies since Culpeper. They hadn't needed to, even with the severe depletion of provisions after the war.
But now they needed to.
Dread flowered in her stomach. They grew most of their food now, but the Saviors were consuming their supplies quicker than self-sufficiency could replenish it. And what then? When they ran out of places to scavenge, when the months caught up with them, when the debt grew until they could no longer put food in their own mouths?
Relax. It's just a clothing run.
Yeah. This time. But how often recently had they resorted to scavenging to fill holes their homegrown supplies could not fill? And what about the Hilltop? They were out there scavenging, too. Sometimes they beat the Kingdom certain places and cleaned them out. Alexandria, too, though certainly not to the same degree.
Relax, she told herself. Relax.
The Saviors upped their quota to prepare for winter. That was standard. This would even out.
They were about to pull out of town when Mason sat up in her seat.
"Wait, wait."
Jerry pulled to a stop. "What's good, boss?"
"That pawn shop." She pointed, then opened her door. "I'll be right back."
She jogged to the building, casually whacking a walker out of the way with her shield. Inside, shadows and silence greeted her. She shone her flashlight on the object that had caught her eye. Its blade gleamed like a crescent moon in the display window.
"Hell yeah."
~m~
An hour after sunrise, they arrived back at the Kingdom. Dave and Lily, just returned after their stay in Alexandria, helped Mason and Jerry unload their haul. Part of it, at least. The Saviors' half they'd already dropped off at a separate depository.
Jerry, Dave and Lily all ganged up on Mason when she said she wanted to go for a run, insisting she needed to sleep. So she followed Dave and Lily back to the house, piled on the living room floor with them, Renee and Tanner, and waited for them to fall asleep. Then she carefully extracted herself and went for her run.
It wasn't that she didn't want to sleep. It was that sometimes, she felt better exhausted.
She kept it to a half hour this time, too hungry to stay out longer. When she returned, the doors to the dining hall were open, enticing early risers inside with the warm scent of breakfast.
She hurried through the breakfast line. Now that she'd paid her penance for the food she originally lent Alexandria, she allowed herself to take a bit more than she had been. But she hesitated when she realized how crowded the tables were. She searched futilely for any of her Misfits but it seemed they were still asleep.
"Hey, Mason!"
The bubbly greeting made her jump, but relief filled her all the way to her toes when she spotted Beth, Eugene and Daryl heading toward her.
"Morning, guys."
"We were wonderin' where you were. We didn't see you back at the house," Beth said.
"Oh, I slept for a few hours when Jerry and I finished patrol shift, but I still woke up early because…I wanted to fit in a quick run."
Not a total lie. But though Beth and Daryl seemed to accept it, Eugene narrowed his eyes. She fidgeted. She'd never been the best liar, but it was like she didn't even have a chance at one around him.
Beth and Daryl went off to fix their plates, but Eugene paused beside her.
"You didn't sleep at all," he said quietly.
"Yeah, so what's it to you?" she grumbled.
"Merely a concerned bystander."
"Well, go stand by someone else. Nosy fucking…"
He rolled his eyes to the ceiling, but didn't push it.
When they all had their food, Mason motioned to the door. "Let's find a spot outside."
"Why?" Daryl pointed to a table in the back that was only half full. "There's room at that one, c'mon."
"No, because I—"
But her excuse dried up when the three of them looked at her.
Daryl shook his head impatiently. "C'mon, man, I'm hungry."
Reluctantly, she followed them to the table, keeping her eyes on her food. Conversation slowed as they approached, and went silent altogether when they sat down. Beth blinked, confused by the reaction. Daryl glared at them before digging in.
"What's with them?" Beth murmured.
"Got sticks up their asses, s'what it looks like," Daryl grunted around a mouthful of bacon, loud enough to draw some offended looks from the other side.
Mason held her chin high, but there was no appetite left in her churning stomach. Across from her, Eugene eyed her with concern, understanding. She couldn't stand it. She stabbed her eggs with a fork and began forcing them down.
The other side left after a while, and she relaxed enough to enjoy her friends' chattering and bickering. She leaned her head on her hand and just listened, letting it soothe her…
"Mason?" Someone shook her shoulder.
Her eyes flew open. "Huh?"
"You were fallin' asleep," Beth said.
Heat filled her face. "I was just resting my eyes."
"Please," Daryl said. "Snorin' like a fuckin' buzz saw."
"Fuck off, I was not."
"Perhaps we should delay our plans for the day," Eugene said.
"No, absolutely not. I'm fine. Training will wake me up."
~m~
It did not.
The second time Mason lost her balance mid-spar, Beth and Eugene called timeout.
"Look, we're not gonna learn anythin' when you're not at your best," Beth reasoned. "Eugene and I can spar each other today."
"All things being equal, I would call that a win-win," Eugene agreed. "You can treat it as a pop quiz of sorts."
"I don't know how I feel about you two ganging up on me," Mason muttered, too tired to put up much of an argument.
She sat with her back against the gazebo railing while the two of them squared up. Daryl joined her after a moment. She tossed out a few corrections to Eugene and Beth's forms, but once they were in the swing of it, she glanced at Daryl.
"Can I ask you a question? Bro to bro?"
He snorted quietly. "At your own risk."
"You still don't trust me, do you?" She asked with a shit-eating grin, to let him know she was mostly teasing.
"Nah. You got that look like you ain't ever up to any good."
"Whoa, wait a minute. Is this Daryl… You know, I don't think I ever caught your last name."
"Dixon."
"Is this Daryl Dixon joking? Is this what it's like to have God smile down upon you?"
"Stop. Fuckin' think you're funny, but you're not."
Mason laughed. "So go sit somewhere else."
"Nah, I'm comfortable."
"For real though, I mean…you didn't have to come here. To the Kingdom, I mean."
"They're my friends." She didn't think she was imagining the defensive edge to his tone.
"Well, no, yeah, I get that—"
"Mason."
Beth and Eugene paused in their drills as a man and woman strode over. They hesitated outside the gazebo, glaring at Mason.
"What the hell is this?"
Great.
Mason stood. "Hey, Selene, Donovan. What's the problem?"
"The problem is that you're here," Selene said. "Teaching virtual strangers how to…"
"How to fight? Yes. I am." Normally she might've tried to tame her irritation, but she was tired and just wanted to be left alone.
Selene huffed. "It doesn't bother you at all, does it?"
"Teaching people to defend themselves? Not a smidge."
"Teaching people to murder other people," Donovan said. "That's what you're doing. To run around out there like some stupid, violent animal—"
"Hey."
Eugene angled in front of Mason, eyes sparking dangerously.
Beth flanked Mason on her other side, lips thin with anger.
"You don't know what you're sayin'—"
Selene held up a hand. "Um, I'm sorry, but you don't have a say in any of this."
"You ain't got nothin' better to do than talk out your ass, you fuckin' nances?" Daryl said.
But Mason edged around her friends, throwing them a glance she hoped was equal parts firm and grateful. She smiled at Selene and Donovan.
"You know, guys, I'd love to listen to any feedback you'd have for me about what I should and shouldn't be teaching people. Once you spend a few days out there yourself." She cocked her head. "Have you done that? I mean, aside from that time Ezekiel and I rescued you from the bunker."
Donovan scoffed. "We don't need to—"
"No, I want you to tell me exactly how much time you've spent out there, and then exactly how much of that time you've had to spend protecting yourself. Not relying on anyone else, not letting someone else do the heavy lifting. It must be more than I thought, for you to be talking to me like I don't know my ass from a hole in the ground." Her friendly tone went cold.
"You promote violence in the middle of our community," Selene insisted. "Where anyone could see, where children can see."
"The whole world is violent. I'm promoting self-defense."
"Do you even have the authority to hold these little lessons? Did you check with Ezekiel first?"
"That is indeed what she did."
Ezekiel strolled into view with Lily and Tanner, regarding everyone firmly before leaning on his scepter.
"What is going on here?"
"Your Majesty, we're sorry, but we have some concerns," Donovan said. "Is it really the best idea, allowing these lessons?"
Ezekiel nodded thoughtfully. "Tell me. You have witnessed the routines I, myself, frequently partake in to maintain my combative abilities. That our loyal and esteemed Knights partake in as well. Have you not? Or have you had your eyes closed for so long?" His tone was light. Mason wasn't fooled by it.
Donovan frowned. "No, I…yeah, of course, I've seen that. But I'm sorry, that's not—"
"You do understand, of course, my Knights have pledged their lives to your welfare and defense, and that includes my Champion. They shoulder the weight of great personal risk to ensure you can carry on in this grand life I have built from the ashes of the old world. So pray tell, Donovan. Why is it there is contention now, when it is my Champion alone holding these lessons?"
Selene held her hands out. "Your Majesty, please. It's one thing for the Knights to learn self-defense, but it's something else entirely, teaching complete strangers how to kill people! It just seems incredibly irresponsible, and I can't get comfortable with that."
She cast a furtive glance at Mason, and it was obvious she was remembering that night at the bunker. Mason's fingers twitched, resisting the urge to hide them. They were clean. There was nothing on them…
"You think I have conducted myself irresponsibly? That I do not understand the gravity of my role as King?"
"No, no, that's not what we're trying to say. This isn't about you."
"That is folly," Ezekiel said, voice like flint. "Everything that concerns this community concerns me. Rest assured, a great deal of thought went into our current arrangement with our friends in Alexandria. And rest assured, I would not have agreed upon it had I not believed with my whole heart that it was the best path for this community to take.
"Now I am recipient to the trepidations of my people, and I do not intend to dismiss them, so long as you can provide judicious reasoning that does not question the character of my Champion."
Selene and Donovan exchanged a glance before Donovan shook his head.
"We're…we're sorry, your Majesty. This wasn't the right time…"
"Dismiss yourself, Donovan, if you cannot provide it. You as well, Selene. Should you find yourselves a more compelling argument, we may speak later."
Mason didn't realize she was holding her breath until the two of them left. She deflated as she glanced at her audience.
"Thanks, guys. Sorry about that."
"Honey, you don't have a thing to apologize for, okay?" Lily said. "They're the ones that brought their bad auras over here."
Ezekiel stepped forward and laid a hand on her shoulder. "My lady, are you alright?"
"Yeah." Impatiently, she cleared her throat. "I'm fine. I'm sorry you had to step in, is all."
He nodded slowly. "May I parlay with you a moment?"
"Right now?"
"Don't worry, princess," Tanner said, cracking his knuckles. "Lily and I can take over for a while. Get these grunts in shape."
She frowned. "Go easy."
"Softie."
With a reassuring glance at Eugene and Beth, she followed Ezekiel to the theater.
~m~
Mason hissed a wordless warning and held an arm out to stop the group behind her.
They'd made it outside and into the freezing rain. The light from the getaway vans, manned by Jerry and Dray, illuminated the parking lot. Full of walkers, just as it had been when Mason and Ezekiel broke into the bunker. Maybe more.
Someone whimpered behind her. She tensed, waiting for the sound to draw the dead's attention, but none of them seemed to notice.
"You expect us to get through that?" one of the men hissed. Donovan, if she remembered correctly.
"If you're quick and smart about it, yeah," she replied.
"You're fucking crazy."
"My friends, please," Ezekiel said, quiet but urgent. "I know you have been thrust into alarming and unfamiliar territory, but you must forge through it if you hope to live. Certain death awaits you underground. Onward is the only way."
Mason glanced back at the group, jaw tight with displeasure. They'd come here for food, not more people to provide for. But Ezekiel, being Ezekiel, insisted on taking them in.
They all carried weapons. A few guns, though Mason wasn't sure they even knew how to use them. She'd already told them not to unless absolutely necessary, but who knew if they'd listen.
The vans weren't far, but there were a whole lot of walkers between them and the alcove where they sheltered. Jerry or Dray couldn't risk driving through it and damaging the vans. Onward was the only way.
"We stay in a tight formation," she growled. "No sight-seeing, no stragglers, no stopping to tie your shoelaces. Keep your weapons up and try to keep as quiet as possible. No guns unless it's all you've got left."
Everyone eyed her fearfully, but gripped their weapons tighter, readying them.
"Kids and elderly in the center." She hesitated. The back was going to be the most dangerous place to be. "Ezekiel, you should take the lead. I'll cover the tail end, make sure no one gets left behind."
As she took up position in the back, a young man smiled nervously and held out his hand.
"Uh, Justin. Thanks for…you know, getting us out of there."
Mason glanced at his hand, then faced forward, sliding into a fighting stance. Awkwardly, he retracted it.
"So you've done stuff like this before?"
Memories split open in her brain, fresh and stinging. Men emerging from the trees. Gunfire in the dark, never knowing if it was friend or foe that fell by it. How it felt to kneel, grit and stones biting her knees, blood rolling down her body and knowing it had all been spilled for nothing…
She flinched. "Shut up and get ready."
Ezekiel loped into the parking lot and the group followed haltingly. Mason gritted her teeth, attention straining in a dozen directions at once. It was easy enough for Ezekiel to cut a path ahead; the rain covered his tracks enough that the walkers didn't sense him until he was upon them. Once he drew their attention, however, they converged, hitting the middle and lower half of the group the hardest. With the dead pressing in, nervous whimpers became screams. The outer edge of the group frayed out, weapons swinging haphazardly. The center wanted to hesitate, tripping up the whole operation.
"Keep moving!" she barked. "Don't stop, just drive them back!"
She compensated as much as she could with her fire iron, or by shoving someone forward who refused to move, but it was only her and Ezekiel trying to keep thirty strangers together.
When a walker slipped past the defensive line, the group recoiled, exposing the center. Mason leapt in to cover them, shouting at Ezekiel to keep going. They weren't going to make it without a competent person leading the way.
Rain blinded her as she whirled back and forth, taking out walkers while the group recovered. She was vaguely aware of Justin and a few others lingering around her, covering her and the last of the stragglers. She was glad to see there was at least a bit of fight in some of them.
"Alright, c'mon, we've gotta keep moving," she hollered over the din, wrapping an arm around the waist of an old man who had fallen to the ground.
He shook his head, too cowed to get to his feet. "No, no, I can't."
"You can, alright? I've got you." She ran her iron through the skull of an oncoming walker. "But you've gotta help me out. You've gotta move."
Thankfully he obeyed and she led the stragglers on, pushing walkers away as they went. Up ahead, the rest of the group reached the vans and piled inside, all except Ezekiel, who turned back to clear the way for Mason.
She handed the old man off to him, then spun around for the others. "C'mon!"
Three men and a woman stumbled safely past her while she held off the dead. Justin was the last. He paused to kill a walker with his meat cleaver, but the blade caught in its skull. Mason tensed to intervene.
The woman reached back for him. "Justin, come on!"
He abandoned the cleaver, but it was too late. Before Mason could jump in, another walker fell on him, trapping his arm in its jaws.
He screamed, kicking it away, and the woman screamed, too. She lunged like she meant to go back for him.
"No!" Mason wrapped both arms around the woman, yanking her to a halt. "You can't. They're converging."
Justin reached out, sobbing. "Selene—" He cut off with a cry as another walker clamped down on his shoulder.
The woman struggled in Mason's arms. "Please, please, let me go, you have to let me help him—"
"You can't help him!" The dead descended like the tide coming in, cutting them off.
Someone else tried to dart past her—Donovan, she realized. Snarling, Mason swung Selene behind her and slammed shoulder-first into him, throwing him to the ground.
"You. Can't."
As she spoke, the walkers tore Justin down, burying him. Selene wailed. Donovan eyed Mason with pure hate as he lurched to his feet.
"Jackass! Fucking rat, I could've saved him!"
He drew his arm back, but she was quicker. She punched him once to knock him off balance, twice to knock him back to the ground. She loomed over him, limbs burning with adrenaline, with bloodlust. In her head, gunfire, whistling, darkness…
"Mason, cease this!"
Ezekiel grabbed her arm. She wheeled on him, letting out a guttural snarl. His eyes widened but he didn't balk.
"Mason. We must go. Now."
That tiny part of her that clung to logic, that clung to now, took the reins. She nodded wordlessly, holding back the dead while Ezekiel helped Donovan and Selene into a van. Ezekiel only hopped in himself when Mason did.
The silence inside was so loud it hurt. Mason huddled as far away from the others as she could, which they seemed content with. She was soaked to the bone in rain, in blood. Her fingers trembled so she hid them in her lap.
The chaos in her head wound on and on, unending.
~m~
"Remember that night at the bunker?"
Mason and Ezekiel sat on the stage, backs pressed together while they passed each other berries. Shiva sprawled next to them; every once in a while, Mason reached out to scratch behind her ears.
"Of course, my lady," Ezekiel replied.
Renee's uncle had left behind a map in his mountain house, of all the locations nearby that might be raided for food, weapons and other supplies. The bunker in Culpeper was one of a dozen.
The war was already over when they decided to check it out. With nearly all of their people wiped out and half their possessions taken, they were in desperate need of supplies, namely food. The bunker seemed like the best place to start. It had been singled out as a stronghold to house people D.C. labeled "important", but with how chaotic everything was before the world fell to pieces, there was a good chance there hadn't been enough time.
They gambled on that chance, and found thirty or so people inside who had recently run out of food. Looming starvation, on top of three years spent confined underground, had driven some of them to attack the rest.
Mason killed the dangerous ones that night, and the others hadn't understood. That she'd just come out of a war, somehow alive on the other side and wondering if that was even a blessing. That she'd killed many men at that point, so many she'd lost count. That it was safer not to take chances with their continued existence.
That maybe fear had made her a monster, that maybe she was afraid all the time, but she was trying, she was trying, she was trying…
She closed her eyes. The last blackberry she ate seemed lodged in her throat, too sweet. Rotten…
"Well, I…I'm thinking maybe Selene and Donovan had a point. Sort of. Also, I'm apologizing for snarling at you that night, because it's just now occurring to me that I might not have before."
She felt him turn to look at her, but she couldn't do the same.
"Firstly, my lady, I'm used to receiving no apology for getting snarled at. Secondly, you know Selene and Donovan's piss fit today was prejudice and nothing more. Honestly, it's played at this point. I'm…well, I'm actually thinking of calling a summit."
"What about…?"
"I'm considering, and have been considering for some time…" He sighed. The medieval accent was completely gone now, and that was how she knew he was more anxious than he let on. "Maybe they should all be required to learn some fighting skills."
She went so still she could track her pulse as it rippled through her body.
"Fighting," she repeated. "You want them to fight."
"Not for that purpose." Decisive. Disapproving. "You know I can't consider that. But for patrol shifts, supply runs… They pull their own weight within the walls, and I am grateful for that, however I am not unaware of the strain it puts on you, the Misfits, or the other Knights. I cannot allow them to know about the Saviors. I haven't changed my mind about that. But the time has come, I believe, for them to learn."
Mason nodded slowly. "I mean…yeah, that's probably a good idea. But where did this come from?"
He elbowed her lightly. "From your eyes, and the shadows beneath them. From half-empty cabinets that could be full. From my own belief in these people, and this place, and what it could be."
What could it be, now? she wanted to ask, but didn't. Because she loved and respected Ezekiel, and more importantly, she understood. The decision, what it cost, she understood.
They'd fought side by side in that war. Witnessed the same horrors. Weathered the same losses. And she understood intimately the weight, not just of grief, but of guilt that he carried with him. Everyone now who shared the Lie understood that.
She'd known what the cost would be. She'd known.
But if Ezekiel told her they would go to war tomorrow, she didn't think she'd feel the right kind of fear.
She wasn't sure when the fire had rekindled itself in her.
She wasn't sure when she'd started fearing the quiet more than the noise.
But it wasn't her call, and for good reason. So she kept this to herself and instead said, "Well. They probably won't be thrilled by the idea, but they can suck it up. It'll be good for them."
Ezekiel's eyes twinkled. "Indeed, that was my thinking, Dame Reynolds."
She made a face. "You know I don't like that one."
"Dame…Champion?"
"Is that even the correct, like, wordage?"
"Considering we stand at the threshold of this fair planet's rebirth…I think we can probably just make some shit up."
She laughed and handed him another blackberry.
~m~
At Ezekiel's insistence, which became an order the more she argued with him, Mason managed to nab a few hours of sleep. She didn't wake up feeling rested exactly, but a little less like death.
Tanner had taken Beth and Eugene out for a cool-down run, so Mason put herself to work in the garden harvesting grass for bales. Dave joined her after a while, raising an eyebrow at her new tool.
"Ooh. You finally found a replacement."
Mason grinned, propping up her scythe. "Last night, when Jerry and I were out. Saw it in a pawn shop."
"It's a nice one."
"Hell yeah, it is." She paused to wipe the sweat from her forehead and hone the blade with a field stone. "If you want, you can weed around the veggies for me. Tomatoes got that five o'clock shadow going on."
"Sure thing, boss."
The sun was low in the sky when Beth hailed her, still dressed in her workout clothes. Mason straightened.
"How'd it go? Do I need to kick Tanner's ass?"
"No, it was cool. He said you're goin' easy on us."
Mason snorted. "He just can't go a day without stirring the shit."
"I can see that." Beth smiled, then nodded to the banks of cut grass. "You need some help?"
"Nah, I'm almost done. This is just the portion that's going to our livestock. Be a hell of a lot easier with a lawnmower, but gasoline's a precious commodity. Also, it wouldn't look as badass." She twirled the scythe and immediately regretted it. Her muscles were sore as fuck.
"If this is just for the livestock, where's the rest of it goin'?" Beth looked genuinely curious; all those years growing up on a farm shining through, Mason supposed.
"We spread it over the garden, leave it over the fall and winter, and it conditions the soil. Makes it softer and healthier. It's how we doubled our yield last year."
Beth's eyes lit up. "Like compostin'."
"Yeah, except grass is everywhere, so you can cover a much larger area. Quicker, too." She wasn't sure why Beth looked so excited all of a sudden.
"That's how we do it…"
"What?"
"Our…our garden hasn't been doin' too well," Beth explained. "That's another reason we needed that food so badly. But if this method works so well for you guys, maybe it'll work for us, too!"
"Oh. Yeah, of course. When we head back to Alexandria, I can bring this bad boy." She patted the handle of the scythe. "Offer my excellent lawn mowing services."
"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Beth threw her arms around Mason, and the embrace left her staggered. They'd been keeping an unspoken minimum-contact rule outside of training. But Beth's warmth, her exuberance, knocked Mason off guard. She hugged Beth back, careful to hold the scythe at a harmless distance.
"Th—that's okay." She cleared her throat and pulled back first, and only then did she realize their company had grown.
Tanner and Eugene picked their way through the garden toward them. In the brief second when her eyes met Eugene's, Mason struggled to define the emotion there. But then he glanced away, busying himself with freeing his hair from his hair tie.
She took another step away from Beth, her face hot.
"What's up, ding-dongs," Tanner greeted them. "You looked a little lost without me."
"Yeah, Tan, that's just the relief of not having to deal with a complete narcissist," Mason muttered. Her eyes kept flicking to Eugene, wishing he would look at her. Terrified that he would.
"Aw, thank you." Tanner poked her in the ribs and she elbowed him back.
"You know what I miss?" Dave sighed theatrically. "Ding Dongs."
"Fuck you, bro, why'd you have to bring those up?"
"You brought them up!"
"I miss those little powdered donuts," Beth offered.
"What? Those aren't even in the same league as Ding Dongs."
While they argued, Mason sidled up to Eugene. "Hey."
"Evening, Miss Champion. You aren't weighing in on the debate?" His voice was light, but she thought he seemed…embarrassed or something.
"Please. Everyone knows it's Sno Balls all the way."
He breathed out what she thought was a laugh. "Well, you are not incorrect there."
"Yeah. You ever cut it open and stuff it full of Doritos? Delicious."
He finally looked at her, screwing up his face in disgust.
"Miss Reynolds, what in the absolute fuck."
She laughed. "Okay, to be fair, I was stoned at the time. But I still stand by it sober. If I can scrounge up the ingredients, I'll make it for you."
"Well…I am quaking."
"With anticipation?"
"Sure."
"Hey, so, um. I'm sorry. About today."
He frowned. "Seeing as I cannot think up a single thing you'd have to apologize for, you will have to forgive my bewilderment."
"Well…being so tired, for one thing, and then…you know. All that other drama." She changed the subject before he could reply. "Tomorrow we'll have an easy day. You guys can help me here in the garden. And then maybe later I'll show you how to use this thing."
He was silent for a moment, warring with whatever he wanted to say next. In the end, he sighed and raised an eyebrow at the scythe.
"Cards on the table, miss, I am not certain I am formidable enough to wield such an instrument."
She snorted. "Formidable. It's farm equipment. I mean, I will admit it does look pretty badass, but…"
"Badass is an understatement. You look like a reaper with that thing."
He blinked and she blinked back and something passed between them that stood the hair up on her arms. Something like déjà vu, like a dream half-remembered…
(you)
(you are)
(you are the Reaper, May)
"Um." She shook her head. What the fuck was that? "Have you…have you eaten?"
"Uh." He shook his head, too. "N—no. Not yet."
"Did someone say dinner?" Dave hollered.
"Literally no one did," Mason replied.
"Because I'm hungry as fuck!"
So the five of them made for the dining hall. Mason listened quietly while their debate continued, still a little unsteady from…whatever the fuck that was back there.
You're just tired, she reasoned. You and Eugene both.
The hall was crowded again, but at least she was already surrounded by friends. Lily and Renee were already there and had saved a table for them. Daryl, too, joined after a while. Dinner was warm and loud, and refreshed her more than sleep had.
~m~
She awoke that night from a dream that left her weary.
Running. Through the forest, through the desert, through the mountains. Through snow and rain, heat and fire. The scenery rotated constantly. Under the sun, she was painted in blood. Under the moon, she was painted in a rainbow of neon.
Forest, desert, mountain. Snow, rain, heat, fire.
Sun and moon and sun and moon and sun and moon.
On and on like this, until she felt she might collapse. But she had to keep going. Had to—
(break the cycle)
—keep moving. Because…
Because home was out there somewhere. Because someday, she wanted to stop. Rest. Stay.
She scowled when she finally tumbled out of sleep. The Misfits were cuddled around her like always. Dave's head on her stomach, and Tanner's head on Dave's. Lily's arm draped over Mason's leg, the other splayed over Tanner's face.
Ava was curled up on the couch with Renee. Generally she enjoyed sleeping in her own bed, a luxury she'd become obsessed with after her treacherous cross-country journey with Mason. But sometimes, if she'd had a nightmare or simply missed her family, she would sneak out and snuggle with them.
Quietly, Mason disentangled herself and tiptoed to the kitchen, letting the light from the moon guide her.
She nearly shit herself when she spotted the unexpected silhouette sitting at the table, but then it spoke.
"Mason?"
"Beth?" She laid a hand on her heart. "Fuck, I thought you were my sleep paralysis demon finally come to get me."
"Nope. Just a regular demon."
Mason snorted and trudged to the fridge. "You're a fucking sweetheart, you couldn't be a demon if you tried, and Charlie ate the last of my cobbler."
"What kind?"
"Chocolate strawberry."
"Uh oh."
She closed the fridge with a flat expression. "Her ass is grass."
"How'd you even know it was Charlie?"
"Because I know those thieving punks better than the layout of my own house. Ashlee steals your socks, Tanner steals your shades, Dave steals your coffee. And Charlie steals your fucking chocolate strawberry cobbler even though you threatened her with murder the last time."
Beth giggled. "That sounds like me and Maggie. She'd steal my art supplies all the time and then never give 'em back, so I always had to go rootin' around in her room. One time she pissed me off so bad, I ate the center out of a loaf of bread she baked, but I arranged it so that she couldn't tell until she cut into it. That was also the night she was tryin' to impress her date with her cookin' skills. Her face was pretty priceless."
Mason's eyes widened. "Oh my god, you are a demon."
"Told you."
She sat at the table across from Beth. Only one side of her face was visible, tinged in moonlight.
"So what are you doing up?"
"It's just hard for me to sleep lately. Like normal, I mean. Between the Wolves and shifts in the infirmary, I've…kinda gotten caught up in a weird schedule."
"Yeah, I feel that." Mason rubbed her eyes with her fists.
"What happened, with those people today? Tanner said it was because…some of the people here don't understand you. What does that mean?"
For a second, all Mason could feel was intense gratitude toward Tanner for not revealing the whole truth of it.
When she met Beth's gaze, there in the half-lit kitchen… Suddenly, she was on that bus again, cold and raw.
"You remember what I was like, when we first met."
Beth nodded.
"It means that, until fairly recently, I was even more lost than I was then."
It was silent for a moment while Beth let that sink in. Then she reached across the table for Mason's hand.
"What happened to you, after you left?"
Mason flinched, but didn't pull away. She squeezed Beth's hand, trying to draw strength from its familiar warmth.
"I just…couldn't find my way."
"But you've found it now." Beth sounded so sure, it wasn't even a question. When Mason didn't respond, Beth persisted. "You have. You're not who you were before. You can come back."
She wanted to believe her. She wanted to so badly.
Gently, Beth shook her hand. "Let's go for a walk."
"A walk?"
"Just around the neighborhood for a while. We both can't sleep. We may as well make the best of it. You can tell me more about your thievin' Misfits."
Even in the dark, Beth's eyes gleamed like sunlight. Mason smiled a little and let Beth pull her to her feet.
"Okay, did I ever tell you about the time we hustled these asshole losers down at a pool hall and ended up getting chased?"
"Uh, no."
"Well, firstly, let me just establish that it was Tanner's idea, no matter what he tries to say about it being mine…"
In the end, another night of very little sleep, but Mason didn't feel a second of it was wasted.
A/N: So I'm really happy there was an opportunity for more Jerry and Ezekiel in this chapter. I adore those dudes. But, yeah, glad I was able to fit in a little more fluff because this upcoming chapter is going to be...a ride. I'm honestly super excited (and a little bit nervous) for it and I hope you all will enjoy it. Anyway, thanks so much for reading and until next time! xoxo