A/N:Hello all, just a quick note in regards to this story. The following chapters were originally part of my Walking Dead fic 'Sunset on Civilization', which I have not updated in quite a long time now. Inspired by season 5's storyline, I got a little ahead of myself and ended up writing out the entire backstory pertaining to my OC, Hannah, and her connection to Terminus leader, Gareth. I had every intention of continuing on with my story right up to this point, where I would have then revealed said connection as a sort of unexpected twist, however because it now seems unlikely I will ever get around to continuing on with the original fic, I have decided to post these chapters as a sort of standalone story. There will likely be some references in connection to the original story which may only make sense if you've read the chapters I have posted for it, but I have tried my best to fill in the gaps to make this readable without that past knowledge. Gareth was one of my favorite antagonists, and I enjoyed creating a backstory for the character since not a lot was mentioned on the show. Hope you all enjoy reading these chapters just as much.

I look forward to all and any feedback. Thanks for reading.

GARETH

He hadn't always been that way.

The Gareth she had known was sweet, romantic and although not always empathetic in circumstances he had never experienced himself, he had at least put in the effort to be there for her. The laidback nature, though; that was still there. The charisma – the unfailing ability to peddle bullshit and if not convince you that what he was saying was true, then at least convince you that he believed what he was saying was true.

Sitting a little way back from the group, Hannah sifted through her memories with him. It was like trying to dig up lost toys in a sandbox; everything from her old life was buried deep, replaced by everything from her new, post-walker life.

Rick was watching her from across the campfire, wondering what was going through her head as she frowned down at the forest floor. She looked up, her eyes widening a little as she realized that he had been watching her, a guilty look as though she had something to hide. She quickly glanced away.

Scrawny, sweet-natured Gareth. The boy who would sneak up behind her at her locker and cover her eyes, with a playful 'Guess who?' The guy who had shown up at her front door one afternoon and awkwardly presented her with a bouquet of flowers in front of her grinning mother, before taking her out on their first date. The one who understood her need to distance herself and think, and somehow allowed her to do that even when they were together. The same guy who kissed her in a small spot on her cheek, beside her ear, that never failed to make her blush.

She had been so proud to be with him. He had made her so happy. Then her mother was diagnosed with her terminal illness, and her father began visiting more often. Gareth had been so supportive with the hospital trips, the rooms of crying family members, Hannah's late night confessions of fear and grief. But then she had confessed her father's abuse to him… For a week or two he had distanced himself. Not long after that, he broke up with her, no real explanation given. She'd had many thoughts on his reasoning: that she shouldn't have burdened him with the stuff regarding her father, or that she'd expected too much from him throughout her mother's declining health. That she was not even close to good enough for him. And on the odd occasion she could debunk these harmful theories with more positive thoughts. Everyone has to move on eventually. Think of it as a clean slate. He's going to miss out on some of my best moments. He's not the sort of person you need in your life anyway. Then her father would come along, beat her, berate her and she would sink back into that old, murky pit of despair.

She and Gareth had still seen each other at school, spoken on the odd occasion when they ran into each other in the hallway – words of old familiarity shrunk down to small talk: 'Any plans for the summer?', 'Alex heard you're going for that teaching scholarship', then after graduation, as he stood with his arm around his new girlfriend, 'Keep in touch'.
And they had for a while. They friended each other on Facebook, liked or commented on each other's statuses. On the odd occasion they would even send each other messages to commemorate big events in their lives:

'Hey Han, heard about the new job. Congrats! The kids are going to love you.'

'Finally decided on architecture, huh? Graphic design was always your thing. Can't do any worse than the guys designing the city buildings now, I guess, haha. j/k. I know you'll be great."

But she never heard anything else after that. He still posted new statuses and photos; new girlfriends, new friends, parties, the occasional artsy, filtered picture of a building he was inspired by. She heard from his younger brother, Alex – whom she'd gotten along with pretty well whilst she and Gareth were dating – that Gareth had taken up a part time job as a barista at a café not far from the school she taught at, to help him get through college. As much as she'd wanted to drop in to the café one day to surprise him, she felt it was inappropriate at this point, that it would come across as weird. They had their own separate lives now – they were different people. With old thoughts and feelings on the verge of being dug back up, just as she was managing to make a quiet, steady life for herself, she went home and deleted her account. She had very few people in her life now, and that was just perfect for her.

"Han?"

Rick was crouched right in front of her. She hadn't even noticed. He cocked his head, frown lines etched deep with worry, and offered her some food.

She met his gaze and shook her head.

"You haven't eaten since before…" His gaze dropped, unwilling to speak of the horrors they had witnessed. "You must be hungry."

"No."

He sat down next to her and they both stared at the fire in silence. After a little while she relented and held out her hand. He passed her the small ration of rice and squirrel meat, courtesy of Carol and Tyrese and what was left of their supplies. He put his arm around her as she started to eat, and pulled her closer, planting a kiss on top of her head.

"What's on your mind?" he asked, letting go of her.

"I…Nothing."

"Not very convincing."

She couldn't bring herself to tell him about all the mixed feelings running through her head about the man who had come so close to killing them, who had killed and eaten so many before them. The man who had orchestrated the entire fucked up situation and the little community that allowed it all to happen.

One thing that had been running through her head since their escape was whether or not Gareth would have let them go through with it. She was last in line for the slaughter. She shouldn't have even been there in the first place – it was obvious from the start it was intended to be an all-male cull. That little detail stuck in her skin like a splinter. What had been his endgame?

"We survived once again. That's what's important, right?"

She sounded so tired. She'd lost a lot of the spark he'd helped to bring out of her from the start. It was alarming to see what had once been such a bright fire now burning so low. He couldn't see her being one of the suicidal ones – they'd been through far too much; terrible, things that would have driven some of the strongest people mad, yet none of it had. This couldn't be the breaking point. They'd come too far.

"Is this about him?" Rick asked, his jaw clenched, a dark anger burning distantly in his eyes.

"I hadn't seen him in so long. I figured he'd be dead by now. I never would have thought… He was a good person when I knew him."

"The good people don't survive, Han. They're a dying breed."

"I don't understand how he got to that point."

"There are a lot of fucked up people left. They're the ones who survive."

"How do you even tell the difference these days?"

It was meant rhetorically, but he answered anyway. "Think of it this way; we've been through some of the worst things a person can go through – all of us. Yet we continue to live every day with the same basic morals we began with. It takes a different kind of person to turn into what they did."

"But that's just it. We've gone through Hell and, compared to that mess, we came out relatively okay. We're alive, and we carry on that code, like you said; basic human decency. It makes you wonder what sort of fucked up things people have to be put through to even have that thought cross their mind. That their only option to survive, was to…to do that to another human being. It's kill or be killed, sure. But that's a step beyond. That's…"

"We aren't who we used to be, Han. But we aren't that. We will never be that. There's always a choice. Always another way."

"What if there wasn't? What if they were pushed to such extremes, it was their only option? Would you rather die before having to do that? Rather your children-"

She had taken the conversation one step too far.

"I don't understand the conversation we're having here. Are you defending them? After what they've done? You don't owe him anything, Hannah."

"I'm just trying to make sense of it. It can't be as black and white as you try to make it. I know that's easier, it's you protecting the group. But we can't jump to conclusions-"

"I need you to think about what you're saying. I don't know where your head is, but I need it with us. I need it with me, right now."

She nodded, but the gesture was empty.

"These are not the people you used to know. That was a different life."

She thought of Alex lying dead and naked on the table, half-carved up like a cow at the butcher's, his eyes cold and vacant.

"Rick?"

He stopped. She was staring at him now, eyes suddenly full of an understanding that was crushing her.

"What was it like for you…killing Shane?"

His first thought was one of anger, shocked she would bring that up now of all times. Then he knew. What was it like killing someone you used to know because they'd become something you would never have thought possible?

"I did what I had to."

He stood up, mind heavy with bad memories, and returned to the fire to sit beside his baby daughter and Carl.

She wondered if she could do it, if it came to that. Then she prayed she and Gareth would never cross paths ever again.

"This is a stupid idea. We should have gotten out of here when we had the chance. Why would you lead us back here? Those things are everywhere!"

Gareth stared back at his brother. Standing beside him, their mother held the same blank expression she had for days now. Her sons had held her back as she tried to run to a little boy's defense much too late, screaming hysterically as he was torn apart in front of them. It was only days earlier they had begun to watch the small band of survivors they had picked up along the way – one of the teachers from the local high school, a nurse, a lady they vaguely recognized from the grocery store and one of their neighbors' children, the only one to survive from that family – be reduced one by one by the walkers.

"She might be there, we don't know. Not everyone got out."

"What difference does it make?"

"It makes a difference to me. Everyone else is dead. Everyone we know is dead." He bit back the bile rising in his throat, stabilizing the horror as he rephrased, "Everyone we knew."

The first sign of life was the floodlights. Gareth was blinded as he stepped onto the front lawn of his ex-girlfriend's house. It had been a long time since he had last been there, but it still looked almost the same as the image he had preserved in his memory. He wondered if she did. He had found Hannah's Facebook account inexplicably deleted after he returned from his spur-of-the-moment trip to Dubai, funded by his girlfriend of the time's parents, to study the architecture there. Alex had heard through a friend that she'd inherited her old house after her mother's passing. He'd wanted to send her a message, maybe try to reconnect a little even after all their years apart, but all he'd found was a message from months earlier congratulating him on his study, no sign of the person who'd sent it.

Stepping up onto the porch, crowbar raised, heart racing and ears on high alert, he did something that, in hindsight, seemed so ridiculous given the circumstances. He raised his hand and knocked on the front door. Alex held his mother close as they stood on the front lawn, trembling. In the distance they could hear the moans of walkers looking for their next feed. He looked around for any approaching danger, then up at the house. Was that something in the upstairs window? It might have been a shadow.

"Gareth," he whispered hoarsely. His brother ignored him, eyes darting left to right as he tried to figure out their next move. He rested his head on the door, defeated, and then smacked it hard with the crowbar. Everyone was gone. How was that possible? There had to be someone. This couldn't be it.

He nearly fell forward as the door swung open, a rifle aimed right between his eyes. It took a second for his eyes to adjust to see the person wielding it, too dumbstruck to even comprehend a fight or flight response.

Hannah stood in front of him, eyes wide as she registered who it was. She lowered the gun.

"Gareth?"

Without even thinking he lunged forward and hugged her. Someone was alive. Somebody they knew was still alive.

Too stunned to hug back, Hannah watched Alex and Mary step hesitantly onto her front porch. Alex gave an involuntary sound of disbelief and even his mother seemed to recognize what was happening, her eyes slightly brighter than before.

Gareth let go of her and moved aside to let his family in. He shoved the door closed behind them and leant back against it, running his hands over his face like it was the first relief he'd felt in weeks.

He looked at Hannah, who was still processing this current revelation. There was something different about her, he thought, she was thinner than he remembered, but that could have come from the current circumstances. No, it wasn't that. Though there was one thing he did notice hadn't changed about her, and that was the look of resentment she never failed to give him.

"I haven't seen anyone alive for a while. I was starting to think it was just me. Every now and then I'd hear screams…"

Hannah passed out some food, stopping to look at Mary who hadn't spoken a word. Gareth glanced at his mother and down at the can of soup, taking up a spoonful of it.

"We met a few people on the road. Lost them."

"Where were you heading?" Hannah asked.

"The city, originally. I figured that would be the safest place, since it had the highest concentration of military safe zones. I picked up Alex first, drove to ma's place. Had to hoof it most of the way, in the end. Didn't make it far. The roads are blocked. Abandoned cars. Lots of bodies. A lot of…those things. We started with the neighbors and realized there was no point. We were putting ourselves at risk for no reason. There was nobody left. We packed up what supplies we could when we realized we couldn't stay in one place too long. It's like they know. You can take all the precautions. No fire, no light, no sound. Somehow they still find you. They found us. Every time."

Hannah eyed their makeshift weapons and shifted her hand backwards onto the bench, fingers brushing against the butt of her gun. It was a comfort knowing it was close by.

"We had to take down a few. It's hard, you know? I don't really know what they are. But they can't be human, right?"

"Not anymore," Hannah agreed.

"They would have killed us," Alex murmured.

"We made a decision to pick up anyone we could along the way. Maybe see if anyone else we knew was still alive. Alex's girlfriend…."

Alex stared down at the floor. He hadn't touched any of his beans.

Gareth sighed and tried to continue.

"We've got a lot of family interstate. But I'm not feeling very optimistic at this point. I don't know what to do next. This could be it," he said, and she knew he didn't mean just for them. "I mean, the city…Is there any chance –"

"They bombed half the city with napalm. The rest is overrun. No point."

"You've been in there?" Alex asked, hope draining from his eyes.

Hannah leant back against the kitchen counter, ran her fingers through her hair, and nodded. She took a long drink from her water bottle.

"Went in there once. Managed to grab a few useful things before they came after me. There were hundreds. The military were overrun not long after setting up the safe points. The survivors would have gotten out while they could. Assuming there were any."

She could see that the small family was taking this news hard. Everyone had relied on the military to get them out of this situation, to protect them at least until somebody, somewhere found a cure for all this. Hannah's gut instinct had been to stay where she was – even when the soldiers began making sweeps through her neighborhood. The city had been Gareth's plan, and she couldn't blame him for instinctually associating civilization for salvation. She didn't have a plan of action. She knew she didn't want to die, but she also knew that staying put wouldn't be an option forever. Eventually she'd need to leave, whether it was to expand the search for supplies, scout the surrounding suburbs for others, maybe other military bases. The CDC was even worth a shot – anything was at this point.

Around them, dozens of candles burned. With the windows boarded up, it was one of the few places where light was safe. The soft flame light flickered across Gareth's face as he took this in. He seemed in desperate need of another human's opinion; he was scared for himself, for his family. He needed to have this discussion with more than just his family. They were all out of ideas.

"There's room and supplies here," she began, before her mind could catch up with her mouth, "You could stay here."

Not that she had planned on sending them back out into the nightmare outside, but hearing those words seemed to lift their moods significantly.

"I've reinforced what I could. We should be safe for the time being."

"Thank-you," Gareth said, relief in his words.

Alex echoed his gratitude.

They continued eating the contents of their cans while Hannah did a perimeter check. Everything was secure. When she returned to the kitchen, Alex was trying to convince their mother to eat something. He looked up at her with a hopeless frown as she refused to even feign interest.

"She saw a kid get taken the other day," Gareth explained, appearing from the hallway behind her. Hannah wasn't startled. She'd heard him coming; her ears trained to even the smallest sounds after the days of silence in the house. Curious, he'd followed her, watching her familiar routine of door and window checking. "She hasn't spoken since then."

Hannah watched Alex try again. This time Mary took the spoon from him, as if suddenly remembering how to use the utensil herself, and popped the food into her mouth, her expression still blank as she chewed.

"I rigged up a temporary water heater if you guys want showers."

Alex and Gareth exchanged astonished looks, even managed smiles.

"You're….that's…..how?" Gareth asked.

A chuckle escaped her lips.

"Well I'm not exactly time-poor these days."

"Have you been inside the house this whole time?" Alex asked, to clarify.

"No. That hasn't been option. Food runs out. Basic supplies run out. I get bored."

"But those things are out there."

She didn't know the best way to tell them she wasn't afraid. To say, 'I killed my father a few weeks ago and buried him in my backyard. Those things walking the streets are nothing.'

From the upstairs window, one that overlooked the street below and gave her one of the best vantage points, she had watched people come and go. Most of them were simply passing, no signs of immediate danger in the vicinity. A couple of times she'd watched people come face to face with the dead things and freeze. 'Your life is in danger, why don't you shoot?' she'd thought, the first time she'd witnessed it.

The second time she'd pondered on it longer. Was it the humanoid factor? Were they not sure if the person was curable? Was it that basic rule they'd all grown up with; thou shalt not kill? Or was it just fear? She'd seen countless people die in these situations – too afraid to make the first move and save their own lives.

The first time she had faced off against one, she'd felt shock and fear for her life, but had not hesitated to fight back to preserve it. Though it wasn't the first time she'd had to make that decision, and maybe that made it easier. The survivor's instinct had kicked in just in time for her, though not everyone was so fortunate. People had become so comfortable with their scheduled lives, relying on other people to provide food and protection – it was always as easy as buying what you needed from a supermarket, and knowing that the local law enforcement had your back in the event of trouble. With these basic safety nets taken away, people panicked. And there was nothing more stupid and dangerous than a stunned, panicked person who had lived too comfortably for too long.

After they'd had their fill of canned food, Hannah took the three survivors up to her spare room, apologizing for not having enough beds for everyone; that they'd have to share the one queen, or someone would have to take the couch. She felt weird about offering for someone to share with her, knowing that the brothers, in a chivalrous gesture, would have refused the offer themselves, but have offered instead that their mother take it.
Observing Mary's empty expression from the doorway, as the woman took a seat at the end of the spare bed, Hannah realized she wouldn't have been comfortable sharing it with her anyway. People were becoming unpredictable. The same woman who had personally invited her to Thanksgiving dinner after hearing that Hannah's mother had slipped into a coma and her father was MIA, could now be on the verge of a violent outburst. She didn't want to be on the receiving end of it if she did snap.

"Thank-you. Again," Alex said, returning from the bathroom, his hair still a little damp but his face refreshed from the small luxury.

"What was I supposed to do? Turn you away?"

Alex smiled and Hannah couldn't help but return the gesture. He and his brother both had contagious smiles. Contagious, handsome smiles. It was strange for these thoughts to be returning again. They felt like thoughts from a different life.

"I wouldn't have blamed you if you did. All things considered."

"Because of what happened with Gareth? That was ages ago, man. I wouldn't have left you guys out there to die because of that. "

He smiled again and she realized he had been joking. She hid her embarrassment behind her own awkward grin and looked over her shoulder, towards her bedroom at the end of the hall.

"Anyway, I'm going to get some sleep. Hopefully you guys will too. If it gets too warm in here, you can open the window. They can't get up this high. I don't think they can climb at all, actually, so we're pretty safe. Night."

"G'night," Alex replied. "Oh, Gareth's still using the shower I think."

Since she hadn't planned on guests, the only shower Hannah had connected to the water heater was the one in her ensuite.

"That's alright."

"I don't think he'll be long."

She nodded, but stopped herself short of saying 'Nothing I haven't seen before', realizing his mother was still in the room.

The shower sounded from the bathroom as she sat on her bed, rifle beside her. She felt for the knife under her pillow, then checked to make sure the baseball bat she kept under her bed was still in place. You could never be too prepared these days. The sound of the running water was relaxing, familiar. The moment it stopped, she felt a knot form in her stomach. It was the first time since he'd arrived that she would be alone with him.

He stepped out of the bathroom fully dressed, spotting her on the bed as he dried his hair with a towel.

"Sorry. Invading your space a little here."

"Nah, it's okay. How was your shower?"

"You wouldn't believe the color of the water that came off me."

They both chuckled, but avoided eye contact.

"I know this is the first chance you've had to relax in a while, but how do you feel about coming on a supply run tomorrow?"

He did not look at all enthusiastic about the idea, but managed a horribly forced nod of approval.

"We're running low already?"

"Well, I didn't want to say anything, but you guys looked like you hadn't eaten in a long while. Those cans were supposed to last me the next few days."

"Now I feel bad."

"You should," she joked.

When he looked at her to make sure she wasn't being serious, he was met with a smile he hadn't seen in a long time. Her awkward, unsure smile had been one his favorite little things about her when they had been dating. He had found it adorable, too sweet to resist, and so had planted a kiss on her lips every time it made an appearance, never failing to make her blush.

Recalling this old ritual, he looked away. Hannah turned her attention to the weapon beside her.

"How are you guys for weapons?" she asked, watching him fold his damp towel. He glanced at her for a suggestion as to where he should put it, but when she gave no indication, he placed it on the bathroom counter and took a seat on the corner of the bed.

"Alex had this rusty old axe for a while, but the handle was rotten. It was pretty useless after it broke. Ma had a handgun she bought a few years back. She had a home invasion scare," he threw in, catching a questioning look from Hannah. "Just wanted to feel safe. Didn't seem to realize she probably should have learned how to use it too. Lost it down the side of a riverbank when we were attacked. I've got my crowbar. Stumbled across it, literally. It was sticking out of a doorjamb. Whoever the previous owner was, they didn't stick around long enough to actually get the door open."

"Three guesses why."

He nodded.

"One person's misfortune became a stroke of luck for me. We even got the door open in the end."

"I have a feeling that'll be the case a lot now. Benefiting from other people's misfortune, I mean. Easiest pickings for me so far was a car accident up the road. You guys probably passed it on the way in. Three car pile-up – God knows what happened – no survivors that I could see. Human or…otherwise. Though a few of the original occupants were still inside."

Her expression became grim as she recalled the scene.

"They'd packed enough to get the hell out of here and last on the road for a good while. The amount of supplies kept me going for a long time."

"You didn't feel weird, though? Scavenging like that?"

"Of course I did. I still think about them, whenever I see them dead or moving about on the streets, right before I take them down. I think about the person they were before. How they became one of them. The bite marks usually tell the story. It makes me realize how quickly things can turn on you. They probably weren't thinking that it would happen to them. It could happen to me too."

Gareth was quiet for a moment.

"When you were on your own with no one watching your back, sure. But now you've got us. We'll look out for each other. It'll be easier in now."

He smiled a gentle, confident smile like it was the start of something bigger and better. She admired his optimism. It was nice to have it around again after living in a basic state of neutrality for so long.

"So about Alex and your mum. How are they with fighting, you know, if they have to?"

"You know ma. She's tough. She might look vulnerable now, but she'd fight if she had to. Alex…it's been hard for him. Seeing his girlfriend get taken really shook him up. It was hard for a while. He was weak. Lost the will to keep going. I'll admit I kept an eye out for weapons he might get his hands on, in case he decided to, you know... I had to take charge. Protect them, lead them on. Keep up the morale. In a lot of ways it felt like I was the only one still fighting. Then one day ma almost got taken and Alex just seemed to snap out of it. He took out five of them on his own. Now he's fine. Same old Alex. I've still got hope that the same thing will happen to ma. I mean, of course I want to protect her and keep her alive…"

He lowered his voice in case she could hear from down the hall. "But that kind of constant reliance is draining, especially in these circumstances. I'll admit, it's a burden. It has been for both of us. I'd hate for my brother and I to die all because she's decided to give up the fight."

He lowered his face into his hands as soon as the words left his mouth, realizing how awful they sounded.

"I sound like a monster, don't I? Talking about my own mother like that. Like I'd prefer it if she died."

Remembering who he was talking to, he looked up to see if his words had triggered anything in his ex. Hannah had a faraway look on her face.

"Fuck, I'm sorry," he said, assuming she was thinking back to her own mother's passing.

"Don't worry about it. I'm kind of glad she didn't have to go through all this, in a way. To see what the world became. But I know exactly what you mean. Why do you think I've been on my own so long? I've had people come by, some in groups looking for supplies. They were happy enough to leave me be, some even offered for me to join them. Sort of a 'last survivors' club. Others didn't come so gently, but I dealt with them too, and they left me well alone afterwards."

"And then there was us."

She nodded, smiling.

"Yeah, then you guys rocked up. It's nice in a way, to not be alone. You get into your own head too much when you are."

"You always were in your head too much," Gareth replied, and her smile widened.

"Yeah, well..."

"So this supply run tomorrow. What are we in for?" he asked, changing the subject when he realized they were on the verge of awkward reminiscing.

"It's a convenience store," Hannah replied, her faraway gaze suggesting deeper thoughts even as she spoke, "Only a few blocks from here. I've passed it a few times while scouting the area and clearing houses. Not sure what state it's in on the inside, but the roller shutters are still down. Never know, there's a possibility it's still fully stocked."

"Sounds like it's worth a look."

"Definitely. If we're in luck, that'll cover us for food and possibly water, though the taps are still working for now. I want to be prepared for when they cut out. Could be any day now. Then there's also–"

She hesitated. She had yet to mention to them any actual details pertaining to her current weapons assortment, or where they were situated throughout the house. She was still testing the waters – not yet one hundred percent sure how much she could trust them. In these situations, when people were scared, they panicked. People who panicked made mistakes. She couldn't risk it. Especially looking into Mary's broken face, seeing the potential for a fatal meltdown.

She'd already nearly had her head blown off by her neighbor of five years – the woman she'd had over for dinner numerous times, whose kids she had watched when date night rolled around, the same woman who had taken her shopping after a bad break-up. Stepping into her kitchen after finding the back door ajar, Hannah had been met by a wild-eyed woman with blood splattered clothes and gore soaked hair, who only remotely resembling the person she had once known.

"Why are you here?" her neighbor had spat at her, brandishing her husband's shotgun as well as a person who had never touched a gun in their life could. She sounded on the verge of hysteria. "Why are you here? They already took my boys. Daniel's gone. They already took them."

Too startled to respond, Hannah had backed out of the house, dropping the unopened box of Cheerios she'd found in the cupboard. A few days later, she'd heard a gunshot from the house. After that, nothing.
She'd later returned for the Cheerios, keeping her eyes trained forward so she wouldn't have to see the body in the corner of the kitchen, gun still in its mouth.

"What?" Gareth asked, breaking her from her thoughts.

"We'll start with the food, go from there."

"Sounds good."

Feeling his gaze linger on her, she realized she'd been silent for too long.

"I might turn in for the night," she said, "I've put some stuff down on the couch. Not sure what you guys wanna do in regards to sleeping arrangements."

Sensing this was her subtle way of telling him to leave, Gareth nodded.

"We'll work it out. At least we're indoors, right?"

Hannah smiled.

"Oh, by the way", she added, "Don't be alarmed if you hear shots during the night. They build up in my front yard sometimes. Best to take them out before they get a chance to break down the door."