New Meanings To Old Words: LOVE

I suppose this chapter should be a vignette…but I feel it moves the plot a bit more than a usual vignette would. Sooooo choice made. She's a short one, kind of a quickie of a chapter where it's only focused on one character. One POV….and one big ol' bit of dark. Be warned.

As always, read, review and most of all ENJOY!

Note: song lyrics in italics as a break in the scenes... hope it's not too confusing.

Hate The Taste

She ain't movin'.

Shane's hand was on fire. Pins and needles were burning in his blood. It was too hot. So fuckin' hot that it felt like that the gun he was holdin' was fusin' itself to his palm, the blood actin' like glue…

She ain't movin'.

Shane's eyes slid away from her body, her hair spillin' out around her head where it lay on the floorboards, blood poolin' out around it. In his mind he watched that blood grow, watched it pickin' its path back towards him and he couldn't' help but back up a step because of it.

His hand was shakin' by the time his eyes hit on it. It was strange…felt strange. He was so far removed from what he'd just done that he couldn't even feel it movin'. He saw it. Saw her hair tangled in his blood stained fingers. Saw the glistening of the blood along her gun in the bare bit of light filtering between the slats of that door he'd shut. He saw it. But he couldn't feel it. Couldn't believe…

"Who backed the wrong horse now, huh?" Randall's excited voice broke through the fog he'd found himself in. Shane's eyes slid away from his still shakin' hand and up to the boy who had taken to his feet now. "Who? Huh?" Randall continued, and Shane's head tipped to the side to watch the boy, his shackled hands still behind him, back up a step before he smashed his foot into her.

She moved like some lifeless doll, rollin' slightly with the impact and then back again. Her face fallin' into that little pool of blood beneath her. Shane's jaw clenched tight and his eyes blinked rapidly against the sight. This woman…. This woman who had fought so hard, through so many things, wasn't movin' to stop the little prick kickin' her when she was down.

Couldn't move to stop him.

"Fuckin' bitch," Randall's overly excited, practically breathless voice slipped out. Again Shane's head tipped slightly to the other side and the blood pounding through his head finally somehow worked to clear his mind. Randall's foot shot out and smashed into her again and as the boy danced back-a smile riding his lips as he stared down at her-Shane finally started moving.

His free hand hit the boy's throat, shovin' the little prick hard into the wall behind him while his other hand-the one he'd only just begun to feel as being a part of him- pressed that blood stained gun of hers deep into the kid's temple.

"You don't touch her," Shane seethed through his teeth, spittin' that venomous acid that had settled at the back of his throat into that boy's face. Randall's eyes went wide and he blinked rapidly, his mouth opened and closed almost convulsively as he worked his eyes back and forth over Shane's. Shane pushed harder with the gun...her gun… against the boy's head tipping it back slightly.

"Hey man, alright," Randall's voice was breathless, that excitement from only moments ago drained away just like the blood from his face, leaving nothing but the stark white fear of things to come shining through. "Alright," Randall's head nodded just slightly, stopping abruptly as Shane again pushed the gun into his temple. "Okay. I just- I'm-I'm on your side, man. I'm on your side here."

At those words Shane's breath caught in his throat and suddenly he felt like he was choking. Choking on that horrible ball of hot disgusting bile that had risen up the back of his throat only moments ago. His lips parted and he felt them curl into a sneer as he stared into the eyes of the boy starin' wide-eyed at him. Shane cracked his neck as he slipped back a step, the gun in his hand-her gun- sliding away from Randall's temple slowly.

Shane's mind slowed, that spiraling out of control feel that had left him momentarily out of his body-out of his mind-coming to a quick end. He stepped back, his heel slipping in the blood-her blood- as he lifted his free hand to wipe away the sweat that had settled on his upper lip.

"I'm on your side," Randall said again.

The words echoed somewhere in Shane's head. Down into that deep black pit he'd dug for himself. Shane's eyes slid over his shoulder and his body turned to follow their path. He stared down at her, still unmoving, her face covered by blood soaked strands of hair so dark in this light they looked black instead of their usual honey color. She still wasn't moving. Hell, she didn't even look to be breathing.

Shane stared for another second, his hand beginning to shake just slightly, that heat once again building between his skin and the gun.

"Look, man," Randall's voice was low, and it immediately had Shane's attention shifting.

"Shut up," Shane said. He wiped his free hand over his mouth and the smacked that hand on top of his overheatin' head. He smacked hard, not once, but twice. Just tryin' to get control again. His eyes skipped over the scene…over her… and then back to the boy bouncing on his feet beside him. Shane growled as he settled her gun at the small of his back, and then he was moving again. His hand wrapped hard into Randall's collar and pulled the kid along as he grabbed the keys from his pocket. "You keep your mouth shut and you move where and when I say, you get me?"

"Yeah, yeah, man," Randall said excitedly. His head bobbed almost frantically with glee as he let Shane shove him around so that he could undo the cuffs at his raw wrists. Once free Randall rubbed at his wrists and turned around to face Shane with a smile. A smile that faded as soon as he saw Shane's stoic expression. "Look, man-"

"Shut up," Shane said again shoving Randall around again and towards the door. "Shut the fuck up and walk," Shane said pushing the kid further so that his face was pressed into the wall beside the door. Shane spared one look back at her.

He half expected her to be sitting up, starin' at him with that same fuckin' knowing expression she always had. That one that said she knew what you were thinkin'….knew what you were hidin'… knew more than you fuckin' knew yourself. He expected that, but instead, his gaze met her unmoving body, crumpled half on her side in a little pool of her own blood. And again he damn near choked as he tried to pull air past that lump of bile.

He dragged in uneven breaths through his nose and turned back towards the door. He slipped his head outside, that mist-like rain hittin' his skin again like a million tiny needles. He turned back just enough to grab Randall by the shoulder and drag him out of the shed. He pushed the kid in front of him, watching as the fuck practically tripped on his bum leg as he staggered forward, and shot his eyes behind and all around as they made for the not so far off tree line.

Randall was talkin', but Shane couldn't make out a damn word. Just some fuckin' excited prattle barely audible above the roar of his blood and the odd echoing of the rain hitting his skull hard as a fuckin' hammer. They made it to the tree line and Shane looked back, his feet instantly stopping and his blood running cold at the sight he was met with.

Four shambling undead bastards, slowly workin' through the muddy grass not far from the shed. Four of them just shifting aimlessly until one jerked towards the shed. Towards all that fresh blood and that woman who lay upon it.

Shane's foot moved just an inch back towards the shed, his hand settling upon his own gun settled in the holster at his thigh.

"You can't," Randall said and Shane turned towards him. The venom in his blood must have shown through his eyes because Randall lifted his hands to the air and took a step back. "You can't. It ain't worth it man. After all this-all that," Randall said, his hand shifting to indicate the shed in the distance. "There ain't no goin' back to help. You can't, man. She's gone. You can't go back."

Shane stared at Randall for a moment, and then shifted his eyes back towards the shed. The Walkers were still a good distance off, but making up ground faster and faster, the scent of fresh blood too close. Shane's lips again curled in a sneer and his head shook as he glared at the ground.

"Move," Shane growled as he turned and shoved Randall into the woods. He didn't spare another look over his shoulder, just kept his eyes on the back of the boy practically skippin' his way to fuckin' freedom before him.

I got a fatal heart, I'm tied to the living

Got a tortured soul, I can't give it away

Gonna find a line to get me through to reason

Gonna bury it all just to give it a name

I hate the taste, but I carry on believin'

Yeah, I hate the taste, but I do it again

"You," Randall said in a breathless voice as he skipped along on his wounded leg through the brush. "You're gonna fit in good with us, man."

"That right," Shane said in a low tone as he followed. His eyes skipped away from the boy for a moment, his feet once again brining him to a stop as he listened. Listened for some telltale sign that they'd found her. That someone had found her. Saved her maybe.

If there was somethin' to save.

They hadn't gone far. Hadn't walked more than a few yards in a big semi-circle up away from the shed towards the open field where Dale had died and Ben got bit. He'd worked that boy up, pushed him around and over enough times he was sure the kid was disoriented. Otherwise, the little shit would have noticed that Shane hadn't led him anywhere but practically back to where they'd begun.

"Yeah, that's right," Randall said looking over his shoulder and smiling a bit at Shane. Shane glared back and Randall chuckled, the thought of Shane's irritation apparently laughable to the little fuck at this point. "See we got guys like you. Couple of 'em," Randall turned around again and started hobbling his way towards a tree.

"Guys like me, huh?" Shane muttered as he followed, his eyes again shifting around him before landing on Randall. The light rain that had been falling seemed to finally stopped, either that or the foliage above was too thick to let it fall through. Shane glanced above him, squinting at the bare hint of pale yellow light shining down on them. Either way it was a relief. A small one, but he'd take what he could get at this point.

"Tough, ruthless," Randall said back over his shoulder. "Guys you wouldn't ever want to meet in a dark alley. And then, some guys that have that special kind of horror in them, you know. Hell, Callie'd a told you a thing or two about tha-"

Randall cut himself off, his feet stopping just a second after Shane's did. Randall turned, his head tilted just slightly as his mouth hung open in an unsaid apology. An apology that he seemed to find hard to find the words to actually form. As if the fuckin' concept was completely foreign.

"Look," Randall said raising his hands in the air. "I don't know how long you were there. I don't know what you heard us talkin' 'bout. But, he ain't in charge. He ain't," Randall said as he bounced slightly in place. "Not yet. But he could be, I mean, hell….with Dave gone," Randall shook his head and caught Shane's eye. "He could be. Or…or you could."

"That right," Shane said back. His head shifted along his shoulders, a slow deliberate motion from left to right as he watched the kid blink at him. A deer in the fuckin' headlights kind of look plastered on his face as Shane advanced on him. How the fuck did this kid ever get anything past that woman? He'd never understand it.

"Or whatever you want, man," Randall said taking a single step back as Shane continued to advance. They were an arm's length away from one another now and Randall's eyes were darting around him as Shane sneered at him.

"Whatever I want," Shane said. The humming sound that flowed through his parted lips seemed to reverberate through Randall's body. The little shit wad practically bouncing on his toes now, dancing idly to the beat of the fear runnin' through him. Shane scoffed as the boy backed up another step. Lifting a hand to the back of his head Shane rubbed and scratched and glared at the world around him.

If that boy was smart enough to actually figure out what Shane wanted, he would have made a break for it instead of standin' around waitin' for what was to come.

"Look, I'm sorry," Randall said as they started slowly picking a path through the underbrush again. Shane glared at the back of the kid's head as they walked, his tongue darting out along his dry lips. "I tend to ramble when I'm nervous. Just one of those things, you know. Don't mean nothing by anything." Randall's eyes slipped over his shoulder and caught Shane's gaze. "Callie was a good person. She was, but I ain't sorry for what you did. And you shouldn't be either. This world, you gotta look out for yourself, you know. She never got that," Randall said nodding his head at Shane.

A single beat of silence slipped between them while they just stared at one another.

"It ain't about you and yours," Shane said. He said it, but it wasn't his voice he heard echoing in the air. It was hers. All those long months ago at the Quarry, settled in the back of Dale's RV while he tended to her broken ribs. Words she'd repeated to him over and over through the course of their days and travels. Her way of holdin' him back, keepin' his ass from fallin' over the edge of that deep dark well he'd dug.

Words he ignored.

Words that, as he watched Randall's eyes grow wider with fear, he knew she'd said to that boy too.

And he knew, Randall had ignored them as well.

Shane stared at the kid, and felt his hand twitching at his side. He felt himself taking those few steps closer, and new that the kid must have finally realized what Shane figured had to have been just too fuckin' obvious to that woman in that moment before he smashed her head with her gun.

Shane had never planned on lettin' him go. Lettin' him live. Not after all of this.

He couldn't.

Randall had said it. He couldn't go back. Not now.

"Hey," Randall said. His hands were up now, and Shane was only an arm's length away, his hands still twitching at his sides as he readied his strike. "Hey man-"

Shane's hands were around the kid's throat, cutting off the rest of the boy's useless plea, in less than a second. Randall's eyes went wide. His hands, bloodied from the cuts around his wrists from the cuffs he'd been so desperately tryin' to get out off, clawed at Shane's. Two sets of bloodied hands meeting and melding in an odd sort of way in Shane's mind as he tightened his grip on the boy's throat, fighting each other for dominance in a world gone mad.

A world Shane belonged in.

At least according to a dead man.

Randall tipped backwards, his mad scrambling form hitching as far away from Shane as he could as that fuckin' flight instinct took hold. Shane moved with him, his hands tightening so that the boy's eyes rolled back slightly in his head.

Shane took a long breath in through his nose and let it out through his grinding teeth as they moved yet another shaking step through the brush. He swallowed that acrid taste in his throat and stared into that boy's eyes, relishing in the feel of power.

He hated that it felt good. Hated that it felt right. Hated what he'd had to do to finally get to this point.

Hated that in that moment, it wasn't for her. It was only for him.

Randall stepped back again, his fingers scratching painfully into Shane's hands. He stepped back and luck must have been on his side because he tripped, and it caught Shane off guard. Shane's hands loosened just enough that Randall was able to scramble his hyperventilating and coughing ass away.

In that terror-filled flight Randall got one lucky fuckin' shot in. Shane felt the impact of the bastard's foot into his face, felt his nose break and the rush of pain and blood that followed. His hand lifted to his face, pulling away with a fresh smear of red to mix with the rest. He breathed in a disgusting breath of snot and blood and spit it back out before angling his eyes to where Randall was workin' to claw his way away. The boy was crawling on hands and knees, still coughing uncontrollably as he made his getaway. Shane snarled, and pushed off of the ground, his feet eating up that distance before that boy could even make it six feet. Shane's breath was harsh as it filtered through his lips, his broken nose makin' it damned near in impossible to take a clean breath in. He landed on the boy in an ungraceful lunge, almost missing due to his own double vision but draggin' the bastard back by that injured leg.

Draggin' his ass along the brush as he scrapped for purchase with his own bloody hands.

Shane's moved quickly this time, decisively. He'd spent enough time on this. He felt Randall's teeth sink into his left hand as he grabbed a hold of his chin, felt the grime and sweat on the back of the kid's head as he grabbed the base of his skull. The twist was violent, quick and fatal.

Randall's body fell to the ground and Shane settled onto a knee beside it. He glared at the boy's prone lifeless form for a few seconds, waiting just to make sure it was done. He waited, glaring at that boy's body until he felt the sudden urge to stand.

An urge spurred by the distinct feel of eyes on him.

Shane's hand shifted to his gun and settled, his eyes sliding over the ground at his feet as he weighed it out. Tried to figure who or what it was. If it was even real. Or just his own demons come to haunt him.

The shuffling of feet had him turning, his gun lifting and sight settling on the source.

A chuckle rumbled in his chest and filtered out through his slightly parted breaths. He couldn't' help it. He chuckled as he stared down the sight of his gun at him, just starin' at him. He chuckled because it was fittin' that it would be him to find him out here in these woods.

If it had to be anyone there was at least some sick sense of karmic justice bein' paid out that it was fuckin' him.

Shane stared into his eyes, and the chuckle that slipped out died almost as quickly as it came. He stared down the sight of his gun and shook his head as again the man hesitated.

He'd warned him not to.

So Shane didn't feel bad takin' the shot the bastard chose not to.

I'd say I told you so, but I know you never listen

You're the only one I ever cared to show

There's a fine line between fool and heartache

It's the faded signs that make heart-ached fools

I hate the taste, but I carry on believin'

Yeah, I hate the taste, but I'd do it again

~Hate the Taste / Black Rebel Motorcycle Club

AN: Well, I don't know what else to put here other than….geee that's a twist huh? Soooooooo…..did you figure out who stumbled upon Shane in the woods. If not you'll find out next chapter. We're gonna clusterfuck it up a bit here and slip back in time just a bit. We'll find out Callie's fate and move the fall of the farm along quite a good deal.

As always thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!