Disclaimer: I don't own The Walking Dead. Everything belongs to whoever owns them, my wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: For onedayyoujustchange who asked for: "How about one where Tobin pursues Rick :)" – Naturally this is a Rick Grimes/Tobin story.

Disclaimer:adult language, canon appropriate violence, blood and gore, slow burn, mild sexual content, roughly follows canon season 5-6 events, au where Rick and Michonne don't hook up but instead- Tobin bags himself Rick Grimes with a lot of innocent low-key trying.

Eumoirous

Chapter Two

"You know, you scared the hell out of people when we first saw you."

"I know."

"You scared the hell out of me. With that beard. The way you looked around like you were seeing things we weren't...hiding around corners. Turns out you were. Things moved slow here. And then things just started moving fast. Too fast. But don't give up on us."


The ironic part was that later - when he was sitting beside Carl's bed - trying not to mourn the empty space that was going to exist underneath the bandages, Tobin's words from before the walls had come down were all he could really think about.

In retrospect, he could admit to being in a bit over his head before Tobin showed up. He knew the principal behind what he wanted to do - shoring up the walls, trying to make them stronger. But had none of the practical experience. How to get from A and B, all the way to C with just his hands, a hammer and a half box of nails.

But when Tobin had shown up? Hell, it'd been like watching someone in their element. Someone that understood the wood and the angles. Someone how knew the rasp of the grain and the weight each plank could take.

More than that, out of everyone - even his own group - Tobin had told him the truth.

Seemed like a rare commodity these days.

Still precious even when it wasn't pretty or particularly nice to hear.

Only, somehow, Tobin had managed to make it meaningful instead of needling.

He still wasn't sure how that worked, but he was content to keep it that way.

At least for now.

With Carl hurt, he was taking things one day at a time.

It was all he trusted himself to do right now.


All that aside, things seemed to close in on him whenever he tried to sleep. The way Tobin had been by the infirmary twice to check on Carl. Bringing him some chocolate bar he'd been saving for a rainy day. Small things. Good things. Things that left him with a big bunch of impressions he didn't really know what to do with, to be perfectly honest.

It reminded him of how they'd found each other in the dark that night. Blood bleeding slick off the blades of their machetes. Fighting back to back for the longest time before the herd separated them again. With Tobin peeling off to help Aaron, Eric and Francine as a cluster of walkers tried to close in on them. The looming shadow of his outline a sure sight to see in the pale of the moon. Skin specked red and eyes wide with it – horror, anger, fear, frustration - all of it. Everything he'd been keeping in. Everything this entire thing had taken from him. A collective well of rage each and every person drew from right when they needed it. That small, secret part of them that relished in it. Something that still recognized the bitter of warm blood against their tongues and the taste of victory in the air.

But most of all, he remembered how empty the line of his back had felt when the man had left. And worse, how not even Daryl, Glenn or even Michonne seemed to measure up compared to Tobin's tall, steady strength.

It had him in a weird place.

Not a bad place.

He'd already figured that one out for himself.

Just strange.

Different.

There seemed to be a lot of that going around these days.


A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – Sorry this chapter is so short, I wanted to keep things flowing chapter-wise in terms of natural pauses. The rest of the chapters will definitely be longer. There will be more to come, stay tuned.