Rachel
Darkness is all that surrounds me. I can't see a single fucking thing. But, oddly enough, I can look down at myself and see myself in perfect view. Like there's something keeping me lit up, but lighting nothing else.
"Hello?" I can't help but call out, a sense of unease and dread filling me as I look around into the pitch blackness that surrounds me.
"Where were you?"
A familiar voice fills my ears, and I jerk around to see a girl my age, dressed in a simple pink skirt and a lime green shirt. She's caked in blood, and she's looking at me with an expression that somehow mixes hurt and rage.
"Maddie?"
"You left us alone."
Another voice, this one male, calls out, and then the form of Levi Graham steps into view, dressed in a hoodie and joggers, also covered in blood as he gives me the same look Maddie does.
I can't help it when I almost immediately try to explain it to them.
"I was trying to help!" I call out desperately, trying to explain to them that I didn't mean to leave them back in Ohio. "Alex was sending his best members out to try and protect the shelters!"
"If you'd have stayed, maybe we'd still be alive."
This one is a voice I know belongs to someone long dead… and yet, I don't think to question it.
"Bryan?" I can't help the way my voice quivers as he steps out on the other side of Maddie. He's in much worse shape than Maddie and Levi. Rather than simply being caked in blood, his skin is an almost dead color, his eyes sunken in and a dead hallow color rather than his typical vibrant hazel.
He looks almost like a biter.
"If you'd have stayed behind, maybe we could've saved the base."
Next to Levi, Alex steps into view, his face full of nothing but loathing. His entire body is scorched in burns and cuts, leaving only semblances of the man he once was.
I can open my mouth to try and speak, but nothing comes out. I don't know what to say.
"You could've saved us." Suddenly, Bryan's wife, Debbie, is stepping out next to him with a similar look to Alex's locked onto me. By far, she looks the worst. She looks similarly to Bryan, but unlike him, her entire stomach is ripped open, entrails of all sorts hanging out.
"I'm sorry!" I can't help but to apologize, feeling my eyes sting with tears as I look at the people I had failed.
"Sorry doesn't bring them back." This one is a voice I know, one I hate with a passion, as Alex's brother, Jason, the same man who tortured John and manipulated Maddie, steps out next to his brother. He's completely free of any blood, and he's giving me a look of disappointment. "I was always loyal to my friends, at least."
"It's not like that!"
"You left us to die!" Suddenly, John's little brother, James, is stepping out next to his grandmother, giving me a look of pure hatred. His throat is ripped out and there's a chunk of skin missing from his wrist, leaving nothing but a mess of gore.
"I didn't mean too!" I can't help but to respond desperately, even though I know the response itself is pathetic.
"If you'd have just paid attention, I wouldn't have gotten bit."
I can't help the hitch in my voice as Peter steps out next to Jason. He looks exactly as he did when he died, weak and pale, eyes sunken in, bags under them, with a look of betrayal on his expression.
The site of him causes me to break down, collapsing to my knees as I attempt to muffle sobs of horror as I stare at him.
"I-I'm sorry." I manage to stutter out, and despite my hands over my mouth, it comes out loud and clear. "I'm so sorry, Peter!"
I can only sit and sob, my shoulders jerking violently as tears stream down my face, as I stare at every single person I've failed as they stare back at me with nothing but looks of hate and betrayal.
These are people who depended on me, whom I loved dearly… and I failed them.
They slowly fade out until they match the darkness around me, leaving me alone to weep at their loss.
And then another voice speaks from behind me, and my blood runs cold.
"You let them all die."
"J-John?" My voice has a quiver to it as I only barely manage to gasp out his name as I slowly turn to look behind me.
And there he is, dressed in his blue button up with the sleeves rolled up, a plan red shirt visible underneath it from where it's unbuttoned, a pair of denim jeans with his cowboy boots tucked into them.
He has no look of kindness or joy, the kind of look I'm so used to seeing on his normally jovial self. No sign of the man I fell hard for, fought alongside, no sign of the man who calls me friend.
Upon his face is a look of wrath, his deep blue eyes piercing my very soul as I gives me a glare that no sane person would ever want to recieve.
"I-I'm sorry…" My voice is a pathetic whimper as I say it, looking at him pleadingly, hoping he'll understand.
"If you'd have just stayed behind with Peter, none of them would've died!" John growls as he begins marching towards me, and I can't bring it in myself to try and get away from him.
"I-I didn't know!" I try to defend myself… but it's no use.
"You would've if you'd stayed!" John snaps back, never breaking his stride, his pace brisk and resolute at the same time, filled with purpose.
"I just wanted to help!"
"Instead, you left them to die!"
I have no response to that, and I can only sit and stare at John in horrified shock as I realize…
He's right.
If I'd have stayed back, fought against Alex, demanded to go with Peter… maybe they'd all still be alive.
But I didn't.
"You let them die." John growls as he comes to stop right in front of me, and I can only bring my tear-filled eyes up to meet his own furious gaze. "So now… you'll join them."
And then he lunges at me.
And I can only scream.
I shoot up off the bed of the RV, looking around frantically as I pant and gasp, trying to regain my bearings and calm myself down before I go into panic attack.
Where am I again?
On the highway.
Me and Shiela found the group John has joined. They welcomed us, let us in, promised me and the other woman, Carol, that they'd find both John and her daughter, Sophia.
It was just that nightmare again.
My shoulder's sag as my heart slowly stops beating in my ears, allowing me to calm down as I process everything.
It's okay.
I'm safe.
John doesn't hate me…
None of them would've…
I hope.
"You okay?"
Suddenly, my attention is pulled towards the door to the RV, and I can see the Asian-American man, Glenn, standing on the steps of the RV, looking at me in concern.
I stare at him for a moment, before I take a deep breath and nod my head.
"I'm fine." I manage to tell him as I turn so that my legs are hanging off the bed, touching the floor. The RV floor is cold against my feet, and for a moment, I forget that I took my boots and jacket off to sleep comfortably.
"Nightmare?" He asks as he steps into the RV, a little cautious as he eyes me.
"Yeah." I admit as I turn to look up at him. "Sorry."
Glenn shook his head and relaxed a little as he approaches me, leaning against the wall nearby as he does so. "It's fine. You're not the first person to have nightmares in the group, and you won't be the last either." His face is sad, full of sympathy as he says it, and he gives me a small smile. "It makes you human."
I can't help but smile at his words. Admittedly, it was a shock to find out just how much we'd missed.
John had opened up to these people. They knew not only that he was a superhuman, but he was the Juggernaut. So, I felt no need to hide the fact that I was the so called Flamethrower…
… yep, still hate the name.
There were always some fanatics out there that looked at superhumans like gods, and there was always so much misinformation out there.
For example, everyone believes John is the first superhuman. When in reality, superhumans have been around a lot longer than any of us have been alive. So it's a breath of fresh air to meet a group of people who sees as what we are.
People. Maybe not normal, but we're still human nonetheless. We're called superhumans for a reason, rather than some other weird name that might make us sound like a completely separate species.
"Where's Shiela?"
I know she slept here with me. After months on the road, let's just say that John's view of sharing a bed with people has rubbed off on me a little more than it had before.
Once, I might have been weirded out by sharing a bed with someone I wasn't dating, but now, I see it how John does. It's just a place to sleep, regardless of how many people use it.
"She's outside." Glenn says as he nods his head towards the door of the RV. "I think she's playing tag or something with Carl."
I nod, and I feel a little bit of relief fly through me. I can't help it, if I don't know exactly where Shiela is, I get anxious.
I can't let anything happen to her. I can't bear it.
"The others are gearing up for a search party." Glenn reveals to me. "We're gonna split up in groups, see if we can find John and Sophia."
"Count me in." I say as I snag my boots from by the bed and beginning putting them on. I want to find John as soon as possible, give him a pleasant surprise to return too… maybe that's not the right way to word it. "Who all is going?"
"Dale, Merle, Jacqui, and Amy are gonna stay behind to keep watch." Glenn answers. "Everyone else is going with us." It goes unsaid that Jenner is staying behind. Since he's pretty much our only resident medic and, if what they told me last night was true, our only chance at some sort of cure for this virus.
I learned a lot last night, and not all of it was good, especially regarding the virus… but now's not the time to discuss that.
I can't help it when a wince of sympathy goes through me. I haven't talked to him much, but the one encounter we had yesterday was… unpleasant, to say the least.
Not mentioning the guy old enough to be my dad, let's just say I don't like it when people make remarks about my body, regardless of whether they know my age or not.
And if everything I heard about him is true, John's already had to knock him on his ass, and he's an overall pain in the rear.
"What did Dale, Jacqui, and Amy do to deserve this punishment?" I can't help but to joke, causing Glenn to grin.
"I think Merle's the one being punished, personally." He says as with a chuckle. "Jacqui isn't afraid of him at all, and Dale will put him in his place if he has too."
"Still think they're the ones receiving the short end of the stick."
Glenn laughs. "Maybe."
"Well," I begin speaking as I stand to my feet with a smile. "Let's hurry up and find them. Me and Shiela both have been away from John long enough, and I know Carol is worried sick about her daughter."
Glenn nods in agreement and moves towards the RV door. I'm right on his heels, and when we exit the RV, I can see pretty much see everyone standing outside, and I guess they're waiting for me to join them.
"Morning, sleeping beauty." Shane jokes with a grin as he leans against the RV. "You gonna join the search?"
"You couldn't stop me if you tried." Even though it's the truth, I make sure he knows I mean it as a joke when a grin of my own settles on my face.
"Well, we're glad to have you." Rick says with a nod as he lays a piece of leather on the head of a nearby car and rolls it open, revealing an abundance of different weapons stuffed inside. If I remember right, Carl found them yesterday while I was being introduced to Andrea and Amy. "Everybody takes a weapon."
Almost immediately, Andrea voices her disappointment with the choice of weaponry. "These aren't the kind of weapons we need." She scoffs as she give Rick a look of annoyance. "What about the guns?"
"We've been over that." Shane speaks up as Lori moves to pick a weapon from the supply in front of us. "Daryl, Rick, and I are carrying. The only reason Shiela there still has her gun is because that choice is hers and Rachel's, not ours."
"Actually, that's not a bad idea." I can't help but to voice my own support of their decision as I turn to Shiela, holding out my hand. "Gun."
Shiela looks hesitant, but she nods and obeys, pulling her .22 from her pants and setting it in my hand, careful to make sure the barrel isn't pointed at anybody.
Almost immediately, I turn to Shane next to me, and offer it to him.
He gives me a look of confusion. "You sure that's a good idea?"
I nod without hesitation. "She might be a kid, but we made sure she was trained when everything went down." I appreciate that no one questions what I mean when I say we. During introductions, I refused to mention Peter's name, because… well, one, I don't want to dull any hope, and two, I believe John should know first.
These people might've knew him, but John and Peter were good friends. Not to mention they were often sparring partners, considering Pete could take everything John threw at him and manage to at least stagger John.
"You trained a kid to fight?" Lori can't help but question, and while I don't really blame her for looking uncomfortable, I'm quick to defend the decision.
"The walkers won't care about the fact that she's a child. She needs to be able to defend herself, especially against people or things twice her size." I reason as I turn to look at the woman.
"I hate to say it, but she does have a point." Jacqui says with a nod. "I'm not to comfortable training a child to fight either, let alone with weapons, but if she can defend herself against the walkers, all the better for it."
I turn back to Shiela, and though I already know the answer to what I'm about to ask, I still ask the question anyway.
"Are you going with us?"
Rather than answer verbally, Shiela instead moves towards the weapons on the car hood as Glenn moves away from choosing one of his own, and she wordlessly picks out a machete from the bag, testing the weight on it, before flipping it in her grip with the kind of ease you'd never expect a twelve-year-old to have.
When I say we made sure she was trained, I meant it. Yes, she still is a child, and she definitely acts like it half to time, but she knows when to focus, and she's not stupid when it comes to weapons like most kids her age are. She knows how to use it. She just has her preferences.
So it's no surprise to me when she slides the weapon back into it's original place and instead picks out a smaller hatchet, testing the weight on it, before letting out a sound of satisfaction and sliding it into one of her belt loops.
Everyone admittedly looks baffled at the site of how easily and openly Shiela picked a weapon, before Jim decides to speak up.
"Hatchet." He remarks, looking at her with genuine admiration for her choice. "Small, not to heavy for you, and gives you a bit of range. Smart."
And Shiela's right back to being a child as she beams at the praise, even though she's only known Jim for a day. If that.
Andrea, however, looks less than pleased. "So a kid gets to bring a hatchet to help, but the actual adults don't get their guns?"
Shane lets out a sigh of frustration as he shakes his head, before fixing his gaze on Andrea. "Say somebody fires at the wrong moment. A herd happens to be passing by. See, then it's game over for all of us." He reiterates his point more clearly, fixing the blonde with a stern look. "So you need to get over it."
"It's not like they're gonna do anything with Dad's gun, Andrea." Amy says as she glances at her sister, already deciphering the hidden motive that I had no clue about as she steps forward to pick her own weapon. "Besides, he's got a point. Most of us are geared to shoot first, ask later."
"I think the only one here who can actually shoot walkers without a risk of noise is Miss Firestarter over here." T-Dog jokes as he throws a glance in my direction. I can't help but to smile at the praise, and I raise my hand, focusing energy into it and letting some flames engulf my hand.
"Guilty as charged." I joke. Everyone kind of stares at the display for a few moments, and it's understandable. Most of them have probably never seen anything quite like this. Hell, even watching John lift a car over his head or something is still pretty different to watching someone light a part of themselves on fire like it's the most normal thing in the world.
Daryl snaps back to attention. "The idea is to take the creek up about five miles, turn around and come back down the other side." He explains as he begins looking over us. "Chances are they'll be by the creek. It's their only landmark."
Though I don't voice the thought, I can't help but to think in my head how that wouldn't stop John. Chances are, he'd get frustrated with a lack of progress and stomp off in a random direction, and lose said landmark.
"Stay quiet and stay sharp." Rick instructs us all as he gazes around, looking everyone of us in the eye. "Keep space between you but always stay within sight of each other."
"Everybody assemble your packs." Shane instructs as RIck turns towards Dale, who's taken a seat on the steps of the RV..
"Dale, keep on those repairs. We got to get this RV ready to move." He says to the older man.
Dale stands to his feet as he nods his head. "We won't stay here a minute longer than we have to. Good luck out there, bring those kids back. And keep those ones safe." At that least sentence, he nods towards me and Shiela, and I honestly can't help but to smile.
He knows John could level a building and I can incinerate walkers with my hands, and yet, he stills sees as teenage kids and he's truly concerned for us.
Rick nods and places a hand on Carl's shoulder as he looks at the older man. "Keep an eye on Carl while we're gone."
Carl looks less than pleased at those words, and he turns to look at Rick with a look of determination. "I'm going with you." Rick let's out a sigh, and Lori looks ready to immediately shoot down the idea, but they both let Carl speak. "You need people right? To cover as much ground as possible."
Rick honestly looks uncomfortable at the fact that his nine-year-old son is using logic to justify why he should come with us instead of just pushing to go, and he looks to Lori for help.
Lori looks uncomfortable herself, and upon seeing Rick's look, immediately shakes her head. "Your call. I can't always be the bad guy." She says, though she looks like she knows what she'd prefer.
Rick bounces back and forth on his feet, and he looks like he's honestly trying to decide, whether to let Carl come with us or have him stay here.
It honestly surprises me and when Dale speaks up in support of Carl's decision. "Well, he has all of you to look after him, including a girl that can shoot fire from her fingers, so I'd say he's in good hands."
At his words, Rick turns to look at me, as if asking for my opinion, to my surprise, and I can't help the look on my face as it takes me a few moments to answer his unasked question.
"I mean, I can keep him safe, and he's not exactly wrong about covering ground." I admit. While I am personally uncomfortable letting the kid tag along, the truth is, he'll have to learn sometime, and keeping Carl sheltered will only hurt him in the future. It's the same reason why I'm letting Shiela come with us, even though I'd much rather her stay here with Dale.
Finally, Rick lets out a sigh and shakes his head, as if asking himself if he's really about to do this. "Alright." He concedes. "Okay. But always within our sight, no exceptions." He says sternly as he moves past Carl.
Carl turns to look at both me and Dale, and Dale gives him a friendly wink while I simply smile and nod. At least the kid is happy, and willing to help.
It takes a little bit for everyone to gather up their stuff, but when they do, we all march into the woods, making our way into the woods with Daryl leading us.
I just hope we find John quickly. With my power…
Well, let's just say my powers and woods are not exactly an ideal combination.
With silence being our only friend, I can't help it when my thoughts begin to wander into different things.
After nine months, seeing John again is finally a reality. Sure, he's technically missing, but we did still find him, even if not directly, and I can't help it when excitement goes through me at finally seeing my friend again.
Though, I know it's gonna be a rather tearful reunion, but I don't see any reason to cry at the moment. I have to wonder though, are my emotions really gonna hit me hard?
Then again, I'm the same girl who creates an explosion when I lose my temper, so… probably. I just can't really imagine what it will be like until the moment happens I guess.
There's so much to tell him though, and most of it isn't good.
His family is dead, Shiela's the only survivor, Peter's dead, his girlfriend is missing, possibly dead, Levi could be anywhere in Ohio at this point, the base is gone…
All the good emotions are gonna disappear when we… when I have to tell John everything. I will not put any of that responsibility on Shiela.
She already feels responsible for James and Peter. I will not make her explain anything to John.
God… I can only imagine how he's gonna react.
I still remember how he reacted when he found out Alex was Jason's brother after Jack nearly killed him. He absolutely tore into Alex with everything he had, saying a good few things that probably didn't need to be said, and some of it was definitely over the line, and yet… no one felt like they should stop him. Not me, not Maddie, Not Levi… Not even Peter, and he's usually the gentle giant between us.
I remember when we stopped Jason from blowing Ironton and half of Portsmouth to hell… when me and Peter found him standing over Jason, having already crippled him, ready to kill him…
A part of me wonders if we should have let John kill Jason that day and be done with him, but the thing is… none of us want to see John kill somebody in cold blood.
The unfortunate truth is, John has blood on his hands already. When he agreed to join the militia, he learned the hard way that unfortunately, killing isn't something we can always avoid, so he's taken many lives in the middle of a battle or some other scuffle.
The thing that concerns me about him though, and reinforces my belief that we made the right call convincing John to spare Jason… is that John doesn't seem to have a problem with killing.
I'm not saying he's a monster, a murderer, or something of that nature, but John's one of those people who has no qualms about killing people he thinks truly deserve it. I feel guilty over many of the lives I've had to take during my time with the militia, and if Peter didn't have people to talk to, he'd kill himself with guilt.
But John just… doesn't care. He doesn't feel guilt for the people he's killed.
Now granted, he doesn't just slaughter people willy nilly because they're trying to kill him. Anytime we'd be ambushed on a mission by a bunch of people trying to protect our target, he focuses on non-lethal tactics and knocks them out fairly quickly. I mean, the guy can level an entire street block by clapping (Thank you Chernobyl), so it's not that difficult for him to render people unconscious.
Thing is, a good few of the targets that we've been sent after, if John got his hands on them… well, depending on their reasoning, they could either end up knocked out, but we have been sent after some wackos out there and John's gutted them without a second thought.
Innocents die, people get hurt, he kills himself with guilt, but put him in front of someone like, say, Jason for example, something tells me he wouldn't hesitate to snap his neck, and he wouldn't lose any sleep over it.
Meanwhile, I still have an occasional nightmare about when I accidentally incinerated Jack in Ironton.
Fighting's one thing, but when it comes to killing somebody… I can't help it. I feel bad for taking the life of every person I've ever killed. But John…
If he kills someone, it can either be in the heat of the moment, or he's already decided your fate.
My nightmare from earlier springs into my mind, and now that I've thought about it…
No. John might be more open to kill people, but he's never killed anyone just because he wanted to, and he cares more for innocents than killing a psycho. Especially his loved ones.
If he kills you, it's because he believes you need to die.
I know he won't hurt me, and it doesn't take much for me to discard the thought from my mind.
Suddenly, my thoughts are interrupted when Jim walks up next to me.
From what I've gathered of him so far, Jim's a relatively quiet man. He doesn't often speak when he needs to, and when asked a question, he usually gives short and straghtforward answers and only ever explains what's necissary. However, he also seems willing to engage in conversation, if only to occupy the time or distract someone.
"So, how'd you meet John?" I can't help the look of confusion at my face when he starts with that, but I shake it off and answer anyway.
"When he exposed superhumans to the world, me and Peter were assigned to bring him to Area 51, so he could meet Alex, have his powers tested, that sort of stuff." I explain to him as I glance over at him.
His eyes widen at my words. "Area 51?"
I can't help but to laugh, albeit softly. That particular bit did not come up in conversation last night.
"Yes, the Area 51." I answer with a knowing smile. "Now you know why it was so secret. It wasn't for aliens and UFOs, it was the base for the superhuman militia."
"Is it technically a militia?" Jim couldn't help but to ask me with a raised eyebrow. "I remember John saying you guys were government sanctioned."
I nod. "We were sanctioned by the U.N, but the base was on U.S soil." I explain. "But we worked in conjunction, not for the government, so even though we were government sanctioned, we were technically still civilians. So yes, it was a militia."
"Right, you said the base was gone when you went back." Jim's face falls as he recalls that particular fact, and I had a pretty good idea of where he was going with it.
"Anyway," I decide to get back on the topic of his original question. "When John agreed, me and Peter were assigned to train him once his limits are tested." I admit with a fond smile. Even with his strength, John never shrugged off on his training, even if he rarely ever utilizes it. "And the rest is history."
"So, how'd you guys manage to do the militia thing?" Jim asked curiously, turning to look at me with an amused smile. "I severely doubt you shirked your high school responsibilities."
I can't help but to grin at his words. "Well, we still had to attend school, and we weren't often at the base till afterwards, but Alex had plenty, and I do mean plenty, of members to send on missions. It wasn't often that he'd have to call us out of school to handle something."
"But he did?"
"Oh, there were times, for sure." I answer with a small smile. "Alex was a member of the CIA before forming the militia, and he had his ways. John's first mission, he actually had to show up, in suit, badge and all, and take us out of school so that he could send us on the mission."
"What was the mission?" Jim couldn't help but to ask.
"Some chick, Sabrina Galloway or something, had the ability to control nature." I explain as I recount the story of John's very first mission. "She'd use a large red wood tree as a suit of armor of sorts. We didn't have many members equipped to handle her, but not only were me and Peter the top members, but we were pretty well suited to the task, and considering John's a walking bulldozer, well…"
"Good first mission?" Jim guesses.
"Good first mission." I confirm with a nod.
I have to admit, we lose ourselves in conversation for a bit, and I'm pleasantly surprised by how much Jim is willing to engage in conversation wit me. Like I said, I was told that he usually kept to himself.
And I can't help but to ask.
"I don't mean to sound rude, but I was told that you aren't one for conversation." I say as I look at Jim in confusion. "Not that I don't enjoy it, but I'm trying to figure out if these people know you less than they thought or if I'm a special case."
Jim lets out a chuckle at my words, before looking at me with a small smile. "No, you're right, I'm not. I find it better to pay attention. I saw your face begin to scrunch up, figured it was a bad memory. Thought I'd take your mind off of it."
I've only known him for a day, but I can't help but to be legitimately touched by Jim's concern. He noticed that I wasn't exactly thinking happy thoughts, and took it upon himself ot distract me.
"Well… thanks." I say with a smile. "I appreciate it."
"No problem." Jim says with a nod, and he let's himself fall behind a bit. I guess that means our conversation is over.
And then Shiela's next to me.
"He's too old for you."
"Shiela!"
One Hour Later
John
Mmm…
So comfy…
I don't want to get up…
It's been a long time since I've slept in a comfortable bed. Any of the beds I'd find during my time in Atlanta were almost always uncomfortable, whether literally or to my psyche.
Then again, it's hard to sleep comfortably when the dead are right outside your door almost all the time.
Even in the quarry, and the CDC, I couldn't sleep comfortably. The quarry was too open, and there was the constant lingering thought of everything Jenner had told me before I went to sleep.
For once, there were no nightmares. Not of the shelter falling, not of the quarry, which I was honestly expecting… I didn't even have nightmares about it when I first got my strength.
There weren't any sort of dreams, honestly. Just… darkness.
Then again, they say that we don't always remember our dreams, so I could've had either/or, and not remember a single bit of it.
Honestly, I don't want to get up off this bed… but I know I have too.
Slowly, I let my eyes crack open, and let out an admittedly loud yawn, before groaning as I stretch myself out on the body, before letting my limbs flop down with a sigh of relief.
I pull my body into a sleeping position, slapping my lips together and wiggling my tongue around, trying to create some moisture since I have a habit of sleeping with my mouth open, before looking over to my left, expecting to see Sophia sleeping.
Except she's not there.
Now that I'm paying attention, I can hear the sounds of chatter coming from outside the guest room, and I'd say it's a pretty good bet that Sophia's probably already awake.
To be fair, when I get some good sleep, I have a tendency to oversleep. Some days that I'd have to get up for school, I'd lay in my bed for a good ten to fifteen minutes before dragging myself up and getting ready, even after I got my powers. Though, it wasn't so much as tiredness as it was I just didn't like being woken up. I prefer to wake myself up.
And… I would enjoy the comfort of the bed for as long as I could.
I twist myself off the bed so that my feet are touching the floor, and out of habit, I crack my neck a little, before moving to put on my boots.
Once my boots are on, I stand up and turn back towards the bed, kind of examining it.
The cover and the pillows are out of place from where Sophia opted to use the cover, and obviously the pillows because we actually used them. I figure the least I can do is make the bed.
Once the bed is made, I walk out of the guest room and make my way to the living room.
I spot Sophia and Patricia sitting on two of the chairs, a small table between said chairs to separate them. The moment I walk in, both heads turn in my direction, and Sophia has a large smile on her face, as well as being dressed in the clothes she had on before (which look much cleaner, I might add), while Patricia gives me a small smile of her own.
"Enjoy the sleep?" Patricia asks, and I can't help but to return her smile as I chuckle.
"Guilty." I joke. "Sorry for sleeping in so long."
"It's no problem." Patricia waves it off. "Otis went out hunting after breakfast, and he should be back any moment now."
I turn my head to glance out towards the windows, and my eyes widen when I see that rather than blue skies, the sky is orange, indicating that it's already well past noon.
"Damn." I can't help but to say, turning to look back at Patricia with a sheepish smile as I rub the back of my head. "I guess I slept longer than I meant too."
"It's fine." Patricia says with a small laugh, before she frowns. "Though, I would advise watching your language. Hershel's a christian, and he doesn't appreciate foul language."
"Thanks for the heads up." I say with an appreciative nod. "So, what are you two up to?" I ask as I take a seat in a chair across from them.
"Well, the little one here wanted to know about all the different animals we have on the farm here." Patricia explains with a smile as she glances towards Sophia for a moment, before looking back at me. "I took her out to help with the cows, if that's alright."
"Hey, I ain't got no problem with it." I say with a small smile before turning to look at Sophia. "Did you have fun?"
"Uh huh!" Sophia nodded eagerly. "Did you know that all cows are girls?"
I can't help the chuckle that escapes me at her question as I nod my head. "Yeah, I knew."
Sophia's face falls for a moment at the fact that she couldn't tell me something I didn't already know, before it lights right back up as she turns to look at Patricia once more.
"What about the chickens?" She asks gleefully, earning a laugh from the older woman.
"Well, Hun, if you'd like, I can take you out to see them after bit, you can help me feed them." Patricia offers, before turning to look out the window. "Assuming Hershel, Jimmy, or Maggie haven't already done it."
"Or that Otis don't get back first." I add, causing them both to look at me. "I don't mean to be a downer, but we really do have to get back. I slept way too long for my liking, and I know this one's mom is worried to death about her." I say, loosely pointing a finger at Sophia.
Patricia nods in understanding while Sophia's face falls, but she doesn't object. As much as she'd like to see the chickens, she's probably wanting to get back to her mom more.
"While we're waiting, Hershel left some biscuits and gravy in the kitchen for you, in case you were hungry when you woke up." Patricia tells me, pointing towards the kitchen.
I can't help but to grin. "You have me at biscuits and gravy." I say as I stand to my feet and make my way towards the kitchen, where there's a plate with a few biscuits on it and a bowl full of gravy sitting on the counter next to the sink.
I gladly snatch the biscuits and pour some of the gravy over them, before looking around for a moment.
"You got any salt, by chance?" I call back to Patricia.
"First cabinet on the left!" She tells me from the living room. "Above the sink!"
The window separates the sections of cabinets, and I open of the door to the first on the left to find an abundance of sauces and spices, but I only look long enough to find my target, before snatching a small salt shaker and putting some on the biscuits and gravy.
I put the salt back and grab a fork before moving towards the dining room, taking a seat at one of the tables where I begin to dig into the food, maybe a little too eagerly.
I'm left relatively undisturbed while I eat, the only sounds accompanying me being the sounds of conversation between Patricia and Sophia as the older woman explains how to care for chickens, and the sounds of me eating.
By the time I finish I wipe my mouth with my hands and rub them out my pants out of habit, before picking up the plate and silverware and moving to wash them.
Right about when I turn on the sink is when Beth walks in.
"Oh!" She looks surprised to see me as I turn to look at her, and I can't help the small smile that crosses my face.
"Sorry for sleeping so late." I can't help but to apologize out of habit. "I guess I didn't get as much as I thought."
Dale's words the day before echo through my mind, when we took off from the little makeshift camp spot on the side of the road, and I can't help but to think that maybe he was right. I could've used a little sleep.
Then again, I've stayed up for days without any sign of exhaustion, and the eight or so weeks limit was more of an estimate than anything.
Still… best not to test it.
"It's fine." Beth says, a smile gracing her features as she walks up next to me. "I can get that for you." She says, gesturing to the dishes.
I shake my head with a chuckle. "Nope. I dirtied them, I'm cleaning them."
"Really, it's no problem." Beth assures me. "It's one of the only things I really do around here. That and feeding some of the animals."
"Then take the time to relax a little." I answer with a chuckle as I begin washing the plate in my hands.
Beth seems to drop the subject there, but she doesn't move from her spot, instead choosing to watch me in silence, and I can practically see the gears turning in her head as she tries to think of something to say.
Finally, she decides on something.
"What's it like out there?" She asks me, turning and leaning against the counter next to the sink, her hands coming up to grip the edge as she looks at me.
I can't help it when the smile fades from my face, and the events of not just the past few days, but of the past eight or nine months play back in my head.
"Terrible." I say, stifling the urge to use a more profane word after hearing Patricia's warning, and I turn my gaze back to the dishes as I continue to answer. "People are going crazy… the walkers will eat anything they can get their hands on… people trying desperately just to get scraps of food that'll only last them days. If that." I turn to look at her, my expression kind of hard. "I meant what I said last night. I wasn't trying to be mean, but if you got any sense, you won't set foot off this farm unless you have too."
Beth looks at me for a moment, before letting out a sigh. "It's just… it's driving me crazy." She admits as she crosses her arms, looking away from me, at nothing in particular. "I all I do everyday is cook, clean, and tend to the animals. Sometimes I might spend some time with Jimmy, or in my bedroom, or both, but the same stuff over and over drives me crazy."
I can't help it when I chuckle, smile returning to my face, if only a little, as I finish up the few dishes I dirtied and put them in the dish strainer as I turn to look at Beth, leaning against the sink similarly to the way she is against the counter next to me, crossing my arms out of habit.
"Believe it or not, I'm the same way." I admit with a smile as I look down at her. "When I was in the city, I had plenty of supplies, I could've stayed in a safe place for days and never have to leave. Instead, I'd go out, walk around the city sometimes, study the walkers, though I was always careful."
"But if you did it, why can't I?" Beth looks at me in confusion, a tone of annoyance in her voice as she says it. "I can be careful."
My face falls and I let my head droop as I let out a sigh. This girl just does not give up, does she?
"Tell me something, Beth. In the past eight months that all of this has been going on, how many walkers have you actually seen?" I ask her as I turn to look at her with a raised eyebrow. "Difference between me and you is that I actually know how the walkers work. What they do, what draws them, how to keep them away… tell me, how many of them have you seen in the last eight months?"
Beth looks at me for a moment and opens her mouth, as if ready to say something, before she stops and her gaze falls away from me, suddenly finding her feet interesting as she mulls over what I've said.
"Two." She admits with a sigh.
I nod my head. In the time since the outbreak has started, which doesn't even account for when life was still relatively normal before it really hit, I've seen thousands upon thousands of walkers face to face, and Beth has only ever seen two.
"Now, can you tell me what attracts them? How to avoid them? How to defend yourself against them?"
"I could always run." Beth proposes, and while that definitely is a valid point, the walkers don't get winded. They don't need to breathe. She does.
I open her mouth, ready to explain that to her, but any further conversation is interrupted by the sound of the front door opening, and me and Beth make our way into the living room, in time to see Hershel walk in with someone else, a guy who looks to be right around Beth's age, maybe a year or so older, tailing him.
That's Jimmy, I'm assuming.
While Jimmy's eyes go wide when he sees me, since me and him haven't even been in the same room with each other yet, let alone met, Hershel looks at Patricia.
"Me and Jimmy went ahead and fed the chickens after we checked over the fence." He informed her, letting her know the last job was already done, before he turns to look at Sophia with a smile. "Your jacket treating you well?"
Sophia nods with a smile. "Uh huh! Thank you for cleaning it, Mr. Greene." She thanks him in response.
Now that I'm paying attention to it, I can now see that the jacket is a lot cleaner. The leather looks a lot smoother, and the marks of dust and mud from yesterday are all wiped away. Other than one or two signs of wear, the damn thing looks brand new.
Hershel nods his head in response. "You're welcome." His eyes turn to face me as the small falls from his face, and he nods in my direction. "I'm glad to see you're finally awake. Get some good sleep?"
"Best I've had in a while." I say with a nod. "I've said it already, but I'll say it again: thanks, Hershel. I really appreciate it."
Hershel nodded his head. "I'm glad to help." He says.
"Who's this?" Jimmy asks, nodding his head towards me as he turns to Hershel, his hands slipping in his back pockets, visibly tense at the unfamiliar face.
"This is the other one Otis brought back last night." Hershel answers as he glances towards me. "This is John Gallagher. John, this my other hand, Jimmy."
"Nice to meet you." I say with a smile as I close the distance between us, offering my hand for the guy to shake.
Jimmy shakes my hand firmly with a nod. "You too." He says as he eyes me for another moment, before looking past me and towards Beth. Once our hands separate, he moves past me and Beth meets him halfway as the two embrace.
Right, Hershel said they're dating.
I spare them only a second's glance before I turn my attention back to Hershel as he speaks.
"I got Maggie out on the front porch for now keeping an eye out for Otis." He says to me, explaining the elder sister's absence. "As soon as he gets back, I can have him run you two back up to your group on the highway."
I nod my head. "That works. You know he'll be back, perchance?" I can't help but to ask. I'm not trying to be impatient, but like I said, Carol's probably worried sick about Sophia, and despite her distractions at the moment, I know for sure that Sophia is more than eager to return to her mother's side.
Hershel shakes his head. "I couldn't tell you for certain, but he should be coming back any time now." He assures me as he goes to move past me towards the kitchen. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go wash my hands and get ready to get dinner started. Bethy, you mind helping me?"
"Of course, Daddy." Beth says with a nod, and once Hershel isn't looking, she gives Jimmy a quick peck on the lips before moving to follow her father.
Of course, something has to come to ruin the peaceful mood.
"Daddy!"
Maggie's voice breaks the peace rather harshly, a panicked tone in her voice as she calls for her father.
Even though I'm the person she called for, I can tell panic in someone's tone, and I rush out the door before anyone else, making sure I'm out of everyone's way as I look at Maggie, who has a pair of binoculars in her hand, though not at her eyes at the moment as she looks at something ahead.
"Everything alright?" I ask, concerned in my tone as I look at her.
"Someone's running up the drive, got a kid in their hand." She says, pointing out towards the driveway as I hear the sounds of footsteps ushering out the door behind me. I turn to look at what, or rather, who, she's pointing at.
My eyes fly open, wide as saucers.
My heart stops.
My entire body is frozen in shock and terror.
I'd recognize that outfit anywhere. The man who wears it was wearing it the very day I saved him in Atlanta.
It's Rick. A look of pure panic and terror on his face, running as fast as his legs can carry him.
And in his arms, from what I can see, is Carl. Out cold. Unconscious.
Bloody.
A/N: Yes, I skipped an entire section of the first episode. A good few sections, more than likely. Why?
Because there's not much development to be had there that we haven't already seen in the show. Throwing Rachel and Shiela into the search for Sophia and John wouldn't change much, and sure, I could've had a bit more development for them, like I did with Rachel and Jim here, but they'll have plenty of time to get to know the other characters at the farm, and I figured it'd make more sense for the group to focus on finding them, and besides, there's a few things here that are different from canon, thus eliminating some of the original anyway.
For example, Shane hasn't been driven nutso because he was antagonized by Lori (Yes, I do blame her for starting Shane's downfall) So he isn't thinking of leaving, he didn't get drunk and try to rape her in the rec room at the CDC, and he isn't being mean to Carl or trying to get Lori from Rick.
In my story, the conflict between the Grimes and Shane won't come until further down the line, and I can assure you, Shane didn't need to go crazy or die for there to be conflict, considering… well, let me put it this way: I don't care if Rick is Lori's husband, Shane is Judith's father, we all know it, and until Shane did something actually unhinged, neither had any right to completely take that from him and deem Rick the father. That was unbelievably cruel, and that kind of cruelty is what really kicked off Shane's downfall.
Hell, if you pay attention, Shane wasn't exactly pleased, but he was willing to go along with Rick's plan to release Randall, even if he didn't agree with it. It wasn't until Rick kept putting Randall's release before having a talk he needed to with Carl that Shane finally snapped.
Did Shane love Lori? Yes.
Did he go too far in certain aspects? Yes.
Could he have been redeemed? Most certainly, if Rick and the others didn't keep treating him with hostility.
I know Shane killing Otis was supposed to be the start of his downfall, but if you pay attention, during a conversation with Andrea, you can practically see him thinking about Otis. He felt guilty for it, but he felt he did what he had too.
Was it the right call? No.
Did it make Shane a remorseless killer? Doubt it.
I mean, hell, there's a very clear difference between his murders of Randall and Otis. Otis was a good man, Shane felt genuinely guilty for what he did, and even apologized to Otis before shooting him. Meanwhile, Randall was willingly shacked up with a group of rapists and serial killers, and I'm more than willing to believe that contrary to his words, he did participate, and only said he didn't so that Daryl would stop beating him half to death.
Were both of them fucked up? Yeah, but the sad part is, what we got with Shane following Randall before he killed him showed that Shane was more than likely right about Randall. He was eager to get back to his original group, and if set free, he most likely would've done what he could've to get back, and then boom, show's over.
This turned into a tangent, but let me get to what I was trying to say.
Was Shane unhinged in the show? Yes.
We're there events that drove him to that? Yes.
Was Rick's return what started it? Not at all.
Lori felt guilty for having an affair with Shane, and instead of being a grown woman and taking responsibility, she shackled all of the blame on Shane, projected onto him, and pretty much antagonized him, practically pushing Shane to the edge. It didn't start with Rick's return. It started when Lori confronted Shane at the lake in the quarry, before he beat Ed half to death.
Shane was genuinely happy that Rick was back, alive and well, and despite their disagreements, there were still plenty of moments in both Seasons that showed he cared for Rick before he finally went off the deep end. Even after the stunt Lori AND Rick pulled (Yes, Rick did play a hand in it once he found out Lori was pregnant), he was still glad to be there for his friend, and helped him where he could.
Look, point is, in this fic, Shane's downfall never started, and if it does… well, let's just say Shane is still one of my favorite characters in the series for a reason, and I don't plan on killing him off. At least, not any time soon.
So, with that author's not turned rant out of the way, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, and I'll see you in the next one.