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werdlewrites · 2 months

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summary: Steve had said things would get worse with secrecy and lies, but Hopper can’t stomach the look in her eyes when he strips away the only life she had ever known. Parents she may or may not remember, and how she wound up beneath someone else's roof. His heart is already racing with anticipation from what he’s about to do, fingers tight and trembling around a file until it crinkles. He sits in silence at their small table, elbows hoisted up with fingers tangling in his mess of hair as he stares down at the bold, printed words at the top of the paper. Temporary Guardianship Agreement. warnings: parental abandonment?? mentions of death, mentions of foster care wc: 3,024

MCKAY-HOLBROOK 1961

"By a ceremony performed Saturday evening, June 24th, by Rev. Charles O’Connell at 234 Washington St, Columbus, Indiana, Miss Lynn Joy Holbrook and Mr. Warren Don Mckay, were married. The bride wore an ivory dress with lace throughout. The groom wore two-toned ivory white and midnight blue trousers in compliments to the bouquet. The bride and groom will be celebrating at the groom's family home with few guests."

Hard-working hands have dried as they sift through delicate and aged papers. History is inked in the newspaper for all to bear witness. No one would care about the small print; they would flip to the next page, where more important articles awaited them in long paragraphs. Times changing, big events yet to come for readers or receiving a summarized version of what's already passed. But to him, this tiny article was everything. He stood on a rotted bridge above treacherous waters, planks falling away with every moment spent in the unknown. Never knowing where to turn until taking that leap of faith, only to have the wood crack and send him back toward safety. Now, he had names. Names to give the faces that smiled on splotchy brown paper, unaware they were being photographed in the courthouse. Hopper was closer than he had ever been—the end of this bridge in sight, where a new world awaited him.

"Mr. and Mrs. Eugene and Ruth Mckay are the parents of a son born Monday, April 5th, 1937, at The Birthing Center at Columbus Regional Hospital."

There’s a small stack dedicated to the boy. Birth, achievements, and changes in life, including his marriage to Lynn. His parents had been proud enough to pay for small spots in the paper, putting their only child on a pedestal for all to see. A man dedicated to education, pursuing a career on that very path despite the low pay. You could see him smiling in front of the class as he tutored young minds. The very school he worked for earning a place in the local paper for high praise. However, a darker turn awaits at the end for the boy named Warren. His father, Eugene, dies of a sudden heart attack in 1964 while working in the factories. A large funeral is held for a gone man, seemingly well-loved and dearly missed. Jim can barely make out the faces in the crowd—a shorter woman with a tissue concealing her face—while her son and daughter-in-law stand just beside the grieving widow. Everything seems to go silent after that. There are no more reports; safe for the one article to come years later, the couple already long gone from their quiet home. His wife offers even less help, though it’s intriguing enough.

"Lynn Joy Holbrook, born Monday, February 21st, 1938, at Trinity Health Birth Center, in Grand Rapids, Michigan."

There’s no mention of her parents or explanation as to why she wound up in Indiana. There were no achievements or events in her family name until her sister, Beverley Holbrook, makes a declaration of her disappearance in 1958. It’s a plea for her safe return, should she have been taken away. She was unaware that her baby sister was building a new life in a different state, and no one bothered to seek closure for the hole she left behind. There are no mentions of a child being born, though evidence in a stolen Polaroid proves otherwise— - keeping the joy to themselves, with purpose. He sees more of her in their faces—nearly identical to the woman with few features gifted by a father. It’s a deep and tangled web of mystery, eating away at his mind as the spiders crawl along for a feast. When and where did Ian Reid or Dr. Brenner come into play? Warren had no siblings to entrust his daughter to, and Beverly remained behind in Michigan with her husband, Mick— most likely even unaware there had been a niece to dote upon. And right now, he wasn’t about to show up on a stranger's doorstep with good news, handing the girl over and leaving unknowing of her fate. But he did need to do something.

The paperwork is abandoned in his truck, locked up with only one key to get in or out. It had become the safest place to keep prying eyes away from his research, no matter if it involved her or not. Steve had said things would get worse with secrecy and lies, but Hopper can’t stomach the look in her eyes when he strips away the only life she had ever known. Parents she may or may not remember, and how she wound up beneath someone else's roof. His heart is already racing with anticipation from what he’s about to do, fingers tight and trembling around a file until it crinkles. He sits in silence at their small table, elbows hoisted up with fingers tangling in his mess of hair as he stares down at the bold, printed words at the top of the paper.

Temporary Guardianship Agreement

It’s not been discussed—not even a whisper. Autumn had said he needed to figure something out, and this was it. Legally, she still needed someone to shelter and guide her. Someone to make sure schoolwork was done and keep her far from a rebellious path. He pictures the fear in her face as she’s carted away once again, forcing her to surrender to the foster care system. She’ll bounce around. Back and forth between families until she falls numb to abandonment, receiving little love and unable to give it back. The word would have become foreign. Then, she’ll turn eighteen and be cast out into the wilderness. Wolves either devour her whole as she moves on unsteady feet, or she takes the pain to become part of the pack. Unrecognizable to not only others that once knew her but to herself. Hopper had been there when she needed him, and he would be damned if he left her now.

He can hear the roar of an engine in the distance—slow-moving tires as they creep up onto the cabin. In such a quiet place, it’s enough to pull him back into reality. He checks his watch, and the time reads 3:46 p.m. School had just gotten out, and with strict orders to come straight back to the cabin, the timing matches. Just like the day before. Only this time, there’s no comfort in her return—only dread. She’s racing up the steps, eager to be freed of the cold winds, and sit right by the fireplace, homework in hand. But she spots his disheveled state, slowly easing off her coat with a weary look in her eye.

“Hi,” she greets in an uncertain tone, testing the waters before she dares to inch closer. The officer can’t even bring himself to reply, only nodding in acknowledgment of her arrival. The discomfort is hard to miss. “What’s-whats up?”

His body shifts then. Arms crossing over the table as he leans into it, obscuring the paperwork between them. “Nothing,” he sighs out. “Just, uh, just a long day.” It wasn’t entirely a lie, but something remained hidden nonetheless, and Autumn seems to notice.

She mouths an “Okay” as she continues to wade through shallow waters, not yet confident enough to swim and meet him at the depths. But the girl looks at him as she fusses over her bag, trying to appear casual, but the raging waves are difficult to ignore. She braces for impact. “Are you sure?” Blue eyes look up to her again, and he wears a forced smile. Nothing like what she had seen on their shopping spree, and certainly not similar to the one he wore next to Joyce. She teeters around it, sensing danger far worse than blackened waters. “What’s that you got there?” His attention is snapping back down to the papers, his heart racing, and leaving him too sick to speak. “Important cop business?” She’s trying to lighten the mood. Hoping to ease the wrath of Poseidon so that they may be spared.

“Uh, no, actually,” his words come out soft, and pained. There is no liferaft to be seen as he dives headfirst, accepting what’s to come. “It’s our business.” He pulls back to reveal the file, though she’s still too far away to know what it all means. A hand lazily gestures towards the chair just across from him, asking for her to sit.

She elects to let him drown. Arms crossed with a head held high to avoid the rising tides. “I’ll stand, thanks.”

Her stubborn attitude has an open hand tighten into a fist, a heavy sigh of defeat falling from his chest. Would he ever be ready for this? “Look, uh,” the words are building up in his throat, creating a blockade he has to either choke down or spew across the table for another breath. “Your dad’s been gone for a while.” The girl’s weight shifts from one leg to the other, her tongue pressed to the inside of her cheek. “Y’know, eventually his absence will get brought up. The school making phone calls, but never hearing anything back. Not showing up for parent-teacher conferences.”

“What’s your point?” She bites back. Somehow he can sense that she already knows what’s just over the horizon, yet she can’t bring herself to voice it out loud.

“My point is… I don’t want t’see you wind up in some stranger’s house.” She’s chewing at her lip anxiously, a deep, unsteady breath filling her lungs, preparing for what awaits her as the level threatens to rise above her.

“Don’t want to? Or can’t?” She questions.

The quiet cabin is suddenly flipped by the loud squeak of a chair sliding across the wood. His haste in closing their distance is almost alarming, leaving her to flinch but keep a steady gaze on him. “Look, kid, this ain’t no walk in the park. This isn’t your two-story, white picket fence home. It’s cramped, and isolated, and maybe you feel out of place. But that man is still out there, and if there’s the slimmest chance that I can protect you here, I’m going t’take it. So, no, I don’t want to.” Her focus hasn’t broken, though the lines of his face begin to blur. Wrinkles of stress and sleepless eyes blend together in a haze. The pleading in his tone is all she needs. Drinking in his ache, while her own heart slowly dies. “If you want t’risk it, you have t’tell me. But I can’t protect you out there.”

A shaken breath falls, unaware she had been holding it hostage. Without another word being spared between the two, cautious steps carry her away from Hopper and towards the table. Autumn is far too fearful to get too close, merely leaning in as if the paper would somehow wound her. She blinks frantically to clear her sight, letting fresh tears fall as she reads the title in bold. She’s grateful but can’t ignore the heartbreak, growing necrotic inside and withering away with a gust of wind. In a fury, her coat is pulled back into her arms—keys still in hand as she rushes past him. “I need t’go.”

“Autumn-”

“Hopper,” she warns with a fiery look in her eyes, a pointed finger held between the two. The girl seems unaware of the flickering lights from within, though he can’t help but look around the small room in worry. “I-I need t’go. I just need t’breathe.”

He towers before her with fists at his sides, fighting back the instinct to pull her back into safety. “Where will you go?” Glossy eyes flicker around the room in thought, before Jonathan’s name fumbles out of her mouth in a lie. Hopper is reluctant to let her go, but with Joyce there to watch out for her where he couldn’t, he ultimately agrees. Just before she’s gone from the threshold, he manages to slip the walkie-talkie in her hold. It was a miracle that she even allowed him that peace of mind. “If anything happens on the way.”

Autumn hardly remembers the drive as she escapes into the evening. Her thoughts spiral, distracting enough to nearly end in a fender-bender. The aggravated voice of the driver ahead manages to spike already high stress levels, and she elects to seek shelter somewhere nearby while the storm settles. A quiet diner—one she’s all too familiar with from previous visits. It’s just before dinner, and she knows this peace won’t last long, so she’s quick to grab a seat and plant herself there until her ass is numb and her legs forget to work. Long after a slowly enjoyed meal, despite the unsettling nausea. In her haste, she's abandoned homework at the cabin and is left to the lonesome of her mind. Thoughts were screaming loud enough to drown out the chitchat around her or the clank of silverware. It renders her frozen in time—dissociated as vacant eyes stare down at a half-eaten meal of sandwich and fries. The tsunami has followed her out of that cabin, crashing into her and leaving her bones to ache. Autumn is logical; she’s aware this won’t kill her, but it’s the journey out of harm's way she struggles to cope with. Her father was out there and very much alive. Possibly even far from Hawkin’s. Another state entirely. She digs away at the flesh of her lip, picturing his lies as he dresses himself in a lab coat with no car oil or grease to dirty his skin. Not the blue-collar lifestyle he claimed to live. She was more than just logical; she was goddamn gullible.

She conjures up an image of that man at his side. A sickening smile on his face as the screams of children rang out in her mind. He calls himself a stranger, but somehow, she knows it’s more than that.

There’s a commotion just next to her as the empty stool is filled, her body reacting on impulse to escape, though settling once she registers the new company. Heather sits with a duffle bag slung across the counter, a smile quickly vanishing into a look of concern. “You look like shit.”

A relieved sigh falls through, eyes now studying the mirror just across, almost anticipating to find that man in the reflection. “Thanks.”

“No,” the girl blurts out, now frustrated with herself. “I-I didn’t mean like that. I just meant-”

“I know what you meant.” Autumn humors, the faintest smile at the corner of her lips. “I do look like shit.” They fall into a brief silence. Autumn finds comfort in having someone familiar nearby, while Heather mentally kicks herself, lost on how to continue. “Aren’t you,” Autumn begins, now twirling the base of a tall glass across the surface. “Aren’t you supposed t’be, I don’t know, fighting monsters with Eddie?”

The girl at her side makes a face, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t just play Dungeons and Dragons, y’know. I have things.” Autumn spares a look of doubt, a single brow raised to lure out the truth. “Besides, everyone’s busy.” She mumbles, almost too embarrassed to admit that if it were any other day, she would have been at the game table. There’s a huff of amusement, and focus is redirected to stir the milkshake. Heather seems to notice how her smile doesn’t reach her eyes. “What’s wrong? Aside from your questionable taste in drinks in winter.”

Finally, the joy shifts and appears more sincere. Though she doesn’t take the playful bait laid out for her. “Just-just shit. Family shit.”

Heather holds out a hand for pause, a look of genuine sympathy in her eyes. “Say no more. I’m familiar with ‘family shit.” Somehow, Autumn doubts that.

Heather begins flipping through the plastic menu, humming to herself, and Autumn can’t help but wonder if she’s set up for the long haul. Ready to dine with a friend. “So, are we running away from family shit?”

The girl snorts, finding her appetite with a distracted mind, helping herself to room-temperature fries and a slow-melting drink. She mumbles around the straw,

“Nowhere t’run to.”

Heather scoffs at her pessimism, waving a hand in her direction. “There’s plenty t’run to. Chicago? Maybe go swim with some sharks in Florida? That’ll get your mind off it.”

“Sounds like you’ve thought some things through.”

Their eyes meet, and the girl wears a small smile. The menu is folded back up and pushed to the side. “Doesn’t everyone think about traveling? Seeing more than just Hawkins, even if it’s temporary.” The teen locks eyes with the waitress, and a silent conversation is had, nodding in acknowledgment before she dips into the back, the door swinging as she leaves. “We talked about making it big in the cities. Big cities. Like New York, or something.” Autumn can see the way her focus flickers out. A light in her eyes shifts and sways as she dances through a future of wants and desires. All before she plummets back to reality. “Can’t leave my mom behind, though. Plus, I’m not gettin’ very far on a bike.”

Her face contorts in amusement, just at the edge of laughter. “Mom doesn’t want t’move t’New York?”

“My mom? She’d have a heart attack.”

They linger in the moment. Hearts suddenly warmed and troubles were forgotten—at least forgotten enough to enjoy the company. Heather swivels impatiently on the stool, her eyes locked on the metal door that remains still. The shouts of the cooks and the waitress were heard booming just beyond the wall. “You got plans tonight?”

“Other than plotting my escape into the big beyond? Not really.”

Heather nods along in understanding, her tongue clicking against the roof of her mouth. “I’m waiting for my mom’s food. I was going t’head home and, I don’t know, probably get up t’no good. You want t’come?”

Autumn isn’t sure if she means it. Whether they’ll wind up with red and blue lights flashing at their backs, or if it’s as simple as watching a movie. But she’s desperate, and takes the offer with an eager, “Abso-fucking-lutely.”

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mariana-oconnor · 1 year

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The Copper Beeches pt 2

I observed that he sat frequently for half an hour on end, with knitted brows and an abstracted air, but he swept the matter away with a wave of his hand when I mentioned it. "Data! data! data!" he cried impatiently. "I can't make bricks without clay." And yet he would always wind up by muttering that no sister of his should ever have accepted such a situation.

Holmes is worried. He really does seem to always worry about women in potentially abusive situations. This is also why the werid Enola Holmes law suit was weird, btw. The argument for that was that Holmes wasn't depicted as caring about women until the later works, which were not out of copyright, yet this was published in 1892. He's literally referencing a theoretical sister here in a way that clearly shows he would be a concerned brother.

"Please be at the Black Swan Hotel at Winchester at midday to-morrow," it said. "Do come! I am at my wit's end. HUNTER.

I love the tone of this telegram. It's got that 'please' at the beginning, to be polite, but then at the end it's less 'I'm scared' and more exasperation.

"That will do very nicely. Then perhaps I had better postpone my analysis of the acetones, as we may need to be at our best in the morning."

Alas, the acetones will have to wait. Holmes is both willing to postpone his chemistry, but also concerned that he will need to be his best.

By eleven o'clock the next day we were well upon our way to the old English capital.

Such a weird little historical note there. London's been the capital city of England since... Idk... around the Normal conquest in 1066? I don't know if there's an exact date. Most people these days wouldn't even know that Winchester used to be an important city, but Watson's just slipping that in there.

Holmes had been buried in the morning papers all the way down, but after we had passed the Hampshire border he threw them down and began to admire the scenery. It was an ideal spring day, a light blue sky, flecked with little fleecy white clouds drifting across from west to east. The sun was shining very brightly, and yet there was an exhilarating nip in the air, which set an edge to a man's energy. All over the countryside, away to the rolling hills around Aldershot, the little red and grey roofs of the farm-steadings peeped out from amid the light green of the new foliage.

Another lovely description of the scenery and the weather. Everything's so nice. What a lovely day to prevent a crime. And Holmes taking time to look at the scenery.

"You look at these scattered houses, and you are impressed by their beauty. I look at them, and the only thought which comes to me is a feeling of their isolation and of the impunity with which crime may be committed there."

Holmes is super optimistic. This entire speech about the country is why Midsomer Murders exists. Lolol. Look at the idyllic countryside, just full of crime and violence.

"But look at these lonely houses, each in its own fields, filled for the most part with poor ignorant folk who know little of the law."

I feel like that's a little rude of you. I'm pretty sure that even in the countryside people know that murder and theft are illegal.

"I have devised seven separate explanations, each of which would cover the facts as far as we know them."

I want to know what these seven explanations are. I really do.

"In the first place, I may say that I have met, on the whole, with no actual ill-treatment from Mr and Mrs Rucastle."

I feel like this is more luck than anything else. The man is very creepy. We have not yet met the wife, but if she is anything like her husbad described her, she too is very creepy.

"I have gathered that they have been married about seven years, that he was a widower, and that his only child by the first wife was the daughter who has gone to Philadelphia. Mr Rucastle told me in private that the reason why she had left them was that she had an unreasoning aversion to her stepmother."

The fact that she's a stepmother doesn't fill me with confidence in this matter. Still not sure Alice isn't buried under the floorboards. Not to malign stepparents, but in stories like this, they're often the bad guys.

"Mrs Rucastle seemed to me to be colourless in mind as well as in feature. She impressed me neither favourably nor the reverse. She was a nonentity. It was easy to see that she was passionately devoted both to her husband and to her little son. Her light grey eyes wandered continually from one to the other, noting every little want and forestalling it if possible."

This is the most insulting description of a person. She's just nothingness personified. Although this in itself is unsettling. The fact that her husband seems to have such a big personality and she just fades into the background and tries to pre-empt his needs. Eeeh... I'm getting weird vibes. Maybe she's just a naturally retiring and quiet person. But it feels more like a woman who is scared of upsetting her husband. We once again have only the husband's reported word that Alice left because of her.

And sometimes she's just found crying?

Yeeeah. I'm not into this. Nope. Not good.

More than once I have surprised her in tears. I have thought sometimes that it was the disposition of her child which weighed upon her mind, for I have never met so utterly spoiled and so ill-natured a little creature. He is small for his age, with a head which is quite disproportionately large. His whole life appears to be spent in an alternation between savage fits of passion and gloomy intervals of sulking. Giving pain to any creature weaker than himself seems to be his one idea of amusement, and he shows quite remarkable talent in planning the capture of mice, little birds, and insects.

Ah, our earlier suspicions about the child are accurate, it seems. This is a serial killer in the making. If this were a modern story he would have killed his older sister by pushing her down the stairs and his parents would be covering it up.

I don't know where the creepy servants come in. Maybe they just don't like the Rucastles because they're serial killers?

"'Oh, yes,' said he, turning to me, 'we are very much obliged to you, Miss Hunter, for falling in with our whims so far as to cut your hair. I assure you that it has not detracted in the tiniest iota from your appearance. We shall now see how the electric-blue dress will become you. You will find it laid out upon the bed in your room, and if you would be so good as to put it on we should both be extremely obliged.'"

Creeeeepy creepy creepy creepy. Just skin-crawlingly creepy. Don't comment on her appearance, dickhead. This is just a whole pile of weird.

"The dress which I found waiting for me was of a peculiar shade of blue. It was of excellent material, a sort of beige"

I've looked up beige but I still don't really understand what this means, because yes it did used to refer to a fabric, but the fabric was specifically undyed wool. This fabric is definitely dyed, so... Is it a woollen dress?

"...then Mr Rucastle, walking up and down on the other side of the room, began to tell me a series of the funniest stories that I have ever listened to. You cannot imagine how comical he was, and I laughed until I was quite weary."

So he wants her to dress up pretty and listen to his stand-up routine?

"They were always very careful, I observed, to turn my face away from the window, so that I became consumed with the desire to see what was going on behind my back. At first it seemed to be impossible, but I soon devised a means. My hand-mirror had been broken, so a happy thought seized me, and I concealed a piece of the glass in my handkerchief."

I'm always so happy when the people who come to Holmes do their own detective work. Like Mr Melas in the last story, getting the information out of poor Paul under the villains' noses. Miss Hunter here is not just accepting what's going on, she's trying to actively decipher it. Alas, her subterfuge is discovered and she is turned into an active participant in whatever game the Rucastles are playing on the man in the street outside.

Interesting that Mrs Rucastle is the one who takes the initiative here. Clearly she's not as silent a partner in this as she appears.

"'It's only Carlo, my mastiff. I call him mine, but really old Toller, my groom, is the only man who can do anything with him. We feed him once a day, and not too much then, so that he is always as keen as mustard. Toller lets him loose every night, and God help the trespasser whom he lays his fangs upon. For goodness' sake don't you ever on any pretext set your foot over the threshold at night, for it's as much as your life is worth.'"

Ah good. Animal cruelty and oblique threats to her life. That's what we like to see. 'We essentially starve our dog to make sure he's aggressive' is such a dick move. I can see where little Edward gets his animal cruelty from. A chip off the old block, that one.

This family is just so messed up.

Holmes has connections with loads of people, he must know someone who needs a governess and isn't a complete nightmare of a person.

"The very first key fitted to perfection, and I drew the drawer open. There was only one thing in it, but I am sure that you would never guess what it was. It was my coil of hair."

Yep, that's Alice's hair. I don't think I remember Alice being buried under the floorboards, but I honestly wouldn't put it past these people.

"There was one wing, however, which appeared not to be inhabited at all. A door which faced that which led into the quarters of the Tollers opened into this suite, but it was invariably locked."

Oooooh. Alice is locked in the secret wing of the house. How very Bluebeard.

I once saw him carrying a large black linen bag with him through the door.

The mind does automatically go to 'body', doesn't it? I don't think it is a body, but that is what I thought immediately on reading this.

Violet Hunter does pretty much all the leg work in this story. She works out that there's someone behind her, she discovers the forbidden rooms, she sneaks into them. She gets so close to discovering the truth and then...

I turned and ran—ran as though some dreadful hand were behind me clutching at the skirt of my dress. I rushed down the passage, through the door, and straight into the arms of Mr Rucastle, who was waiting outside.

Well... this isn't going to end well.

"'My dear young lady! my dear young lady!'—you cannot think how caressing and soothing his manner was—'and what has frightened you, my dear young lady?' "But his voice was just a little too coaxing. He overdid it. I was keenly on my guard against him."

Glad to see that she's finally seeing through him and has the sense not to tell him what she saw. Although she probably shouldn't have left the door open.

"'Well, then, you know now. And if you ever put your foot over that threshold again'—here in an instant the smile hardened into a grin of rage, and he glared down at me with the face of a demon—'I'll throw you to the mastiff.'"

Ah, there it is, a direct threat to her life. His illusions of civility are peeled back and he's no longer just creepy, but actively horrible.

I do like Violet Hunter, she's such an active participant in events. She doesn't just present a puzzle and then let Holmes tell her what's up, she sniffs around and tries to work out what's going on. And what's going on is a whole lot of bad news.

I'm not sure why Alice is locked in the forbidden wing of the house, but that really doesn't matter. I didn't think she was in Philadelphia. It might be a story a little similar to Miss Sutherland's. She has an inheritance and if she marries, her father and stepmother will no longer have access to it, so locked in her rooms she must be and a doppelganger brought out to pretend that Alice is still happy and healthy.

A whole house full of horrible people. And that poor dog.

I wonder what happened to Alice's mother.

#Letters from Watson #Sherlock Holmes #The Copper Beeches #long post

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wareagleofthemountain · 8 months

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Pottery HC

A/N: I wanted to write something that tied into my HC that Silven elves, much like the Noldor, took great pride in their crafting abilities. However, they often created things using the natural materials at their disposal whereas the Noldor seemed to prefer metal as their primary medium. And also, Caladwen got an afternoon adventure with Orophin, it’s only fair that Rúmil got one too.

Caladwen wiped a strand of silver hair off her brow, the messy side braid coming further undone as she pushed it over her shoulder. She’d been engrossed in her task until the soft click of the front door latch unlocking alerted her to someone’s presence in her Talan. Standing from her seat at the outdoor table on her balcony, the elleth made her way inside to investigate.

“Haldir?” She called into the empty space. “Are you there mela?”

“Next best thing.” The tall ellon standing in the kitchen doorway replied, his features fairly similar to that of his sibling.

She smiled, relaxing a bit. “Ah, Rúmil. You startled me.”

The two embraced, Caladwen eyeing the bag he placed on the dining room table. “Apologies Cali. Haldir won’t be in until next week, but he told me to drop by and check on you. I’ve picked up some food at the market if you’re hungry.”

“Yeah, I am now that you mention it.”

Rúmil washed his hands in the basin, wringing out the cloth as his eyes scanned over to her workspace on the patio. “What have you got there?”

Caladwen looked up from where she was setting the table. “I collected some wild clay on my visit to the creek yesterday. Thought I’d make some new pottery and surprise Haldir when he returns home. I-I’ve fired the pieces and have them resting outside.”

Rúmil smiled, pleased that his brother was so well loved, and sat down to eat with his sister-in-law. “Looks like you’ve done a fine job, as always. You’re sculpting abilities are truly impeccable.”

Caladwen smirked, tossing her silvery hair dramatically. “Yeah. I can do pretty much anything.”

“Hmm. Except for baking it seems…” His eyes sparkled knowingly at her from above the rim of his tea mug, referring to the time she’d nearly burnt a cake to a blackened crisp.

“Hey! It’s not my fault Haldir left me unattended with the oven. As I recall, it was you who was so needy and called him over to help with your Talan renovations.”

He chuckled softly. “You ended up having to come over too and bind Orophin’s arm after he broke it falling through our weak roof while trying to clean the gutters.”

“Yes.” Indeed she did remember. It was the only time she’d ever seen the young ellon’s bluster falter.

“Say, I could bring over my paints if you wanted any help decorating your creations.” He offered, taking his last bite of meat.

“That would be lovely.”

They sat outside, Rúmil frequently glancing up from the clay mug in his hand to painstakingly recreate the colors of the purple sunset above their heads onto his canvas. The ceramic now adorned an image of a field of yellow flowers under the dusky purple sky.

“It’s beautiful…” Caladwen breathed.

“It was. I encountered this field on one of my trips to Imladris. It… was too beautiful to be forgotten. That was many years ago now. I doubt it still stands.”

“Well isn’t that the point of art? To make incredible things live on in the hearts of others even after they’re gone?” She questioned.

“Yes. That’s why I started painting.” The two smiled at each other, slipping into a comfortable silence as the stars slowly began to fill the sky.

Tag list: @elithilanor @glassgulls

#rumil of lothlorien #haldir x oc #haldir of lorien

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dragoneyes618 · 2 years

Text

Skein of Scarlet

Based on @toaverse‘s kidnapped Isabela and Dolores AU.

Her daughter hated her.

Julieta twisted the dough around her fingers in the mixing bowl, punching it and pummeling it.

No. That wasn’t quite right.

Her daughter always sat at the opposite side of the table from her, and avoided looking at her, and when she did her glances were always brief, filled with fear, and she refused to be alone in the same room as her.

Her daughter was terrified of her.

After the chaos had died down, after everyone had realized who Bella and Lola were, after the crying (the parents), the screaming (Bella and Lola), and the hesitant confusion (the children) had been seen to, the adults had gathered in the living room to listen to Agustin’s semblance of an explanation. The girls had fallen asleep. The children had been sent upstairs. Luisa had paused, about to argue that she was seventeen, nearly grown up, and the oldest to boot, before a confused expression crossed her face as she realized that she wasn’t the oldest anymore. She had followed her sister and cousins upstairs without saying anything.

Julieta had sat next to Agustin, and Pepa had sat next to Felix, and Bruno had sat next to his mother, and their hushed voices made them all remember what it had been like trying to have private conversations in the year between Dolores receiving her gift and disappearing.

Slowly, with many starts and stops, Agustin had spoken. He told them of a chance encounter in Bogota, of two terrifyingly thin girls who flinched at every movement and clutched each other like they were the only thing on Earth, who casually mentioned instances of simple violence and cruelty like it was normal, who knew not the first thing about anything, of a decision to bring them home and find them somewhere safe to live, and of oblique references that he only understood now, now that he knew who they truly were.

“Their gifts,” he finished, his knuckles white around the handle of the untouched mug of tea in his hand. “They wanted them for their gifts.”

It was pouring now, rain drumming steadily on the roof. No one admonished Pepa.

Julieta was crying into her hands.

Alma’s eyes were closed, and she was whispering, “Pedro, Pedro, Pedro....”

Bruno was staring blankly into the distance.

Felix looked like he was either going to break down or start throwing things.

“They wanted them to use their gifts for them,” Agustin went on. “For Isabela to grow them things and Dolores to hear things for them. But they didn’t...They kept them locked up, and they hit them all the time, and they didn’t give them nearly enough food - “ He stopped, overcome. How could he explain this - even he didn’t know everything, the girls didn’t seem to understand what he meant when he’d asked them to explain how they’d been treated; it would have been difficult enough to explain the whole story to his family before, but now that he knew they were also his family - to know that his own flesh and blood had gone through this-

Felix had his head in his hands. Pepa’s face was buried in his shoulder as her own shoulders shook.

Felix looked up and asked Agustin, with mounting dread, “Her ear...”

“They said they tried to escape once before.” The words were drawn out of Agustin’s mouth, slowly, inexorably, seeing the way his family’s faces crumbled and closed off as he kept talking, but he couldn’t stop. “That was...that was her punishment.” He made a sort of slicing motion with his free hand, his fingers shaking.

Pepa began to audibly sob.

“Who?” Alma rasped, staring directly at Agustin. “Who did this, and where are they?”

“Still in Bogota,” he answered. “I never saw them. They didn’t find us. The girls said there were four of them, and their names were Cesar, Marco, Daniela, and Julio. I don’t know their last names. They said that Julio was the nicest one, and Cesar and Daniela were the cruelest.”

Felix stirred. “Cesar?”

“Si.”

Felix frowned.

“And, well...” Agustin turned to his wife and his brother-in-law. “They said now - you remember how they reacted when they saw you? They said that the two of you look just like this Daniela and Cesar.”

Felix stiffened.

“So they’re afraid of us,” Julieta whispered, her eyes red. “Because we look like them...”

“The worse ones,” Agustin agreed.

“So Cesar who had them this whole time...he looks like me?” Felix asked slowly.

“Apparently,” Agustin said. “I tried to explain to them that you’re not them, that you’re their parents, and I think they believed me, but they’ll still probably be afraid for a while. Their minds...They’ve spent thirteen years locked up in a house being beaten by those people, their minds don’t quite work normally. It would’ve been enough to drive anyone mad.”

“They were eating flowers,” Bruno said suddenly, sitting straight up. “Before. Isabela grew a flower right out of the carpet, and then she grew another one, and gave that one to Dolores, and they both sat right down and ate them. Stem and all.”

“That’s not...that’s not because their minds have been affected,” Agustin said. He had felt sick when he’d first seen Dolores chewing on a dead leaf, and he’d figured out why. He felt sick now. “It’s because....they had nothing else to eat.”

Sudden sharp, loud rattling noises on the roof announced the appearance of hail.

“Isabela,” Bella said slowly. “I like it.”

“Dolores.” Lola’s lips formed the word - the name - slowly, carefully, feeling the sounds on her tongue. It felt strange, but curiously, faintly familiar.

“I like it,” Bella said again. “It’s...elegant.”

Instead of answering, Lola turned to the door that led to the balcony they were sitting on. A few moments later four people came in - quietly, gently, uncertainly.

A tall girl, taller even than Agustin, with brown hair and wide hazel eyes.

A boy and girl of about the same age. The boy had curly brown hair and greenish eyes. The girl also had curly hair, but hers was black, and she wore round glasses.

The last one was a little boy who clung to the leg of the girl with glasses, peeking out at them from behind her with bright, curious eyes.

“Um,” the tall girl said. “I’m Luisa.”

New people. Introductions. Names. What had Agustin said? “We’re-”

“You’re Isabela and Dolores,” Luisa said.

They gasped in unison. “How did you know?”

“Um...” Luisa looked at the others. “Agustin told us.”

That seemed to satisfy them, so Luisa went on. “This is Mirabel, and this is Camilo, and this is Antonio.”

“Hi,” Camilo said.

Mirabel offered a little wave.

Antonio hid behind Mirabel.

“He’s just shy around people he doesn’t know,” Mirabel apologized.

“We’re you’re-” Luisa started, but then paused, and the three of them, sans Antonio, drew closer together and began whispering to each other.

“They said they’re our sisters and brothers but they’re not because some of them are our cousins and they shouldn’t say that because Agustin told them not to,” Lola told Bella.

They stared at her.

“Ohhh,” Camilo said. “You’re the one who could...” He wiggled his fingers by his ear. He and the other newcomers stared at the empty space where Lola’s other ear had used to be.

“I remember you,” Luisa said suddenly to Bella. “A little. I was four when you...disappeared. You and Dolores were six. Do you remember? We played in the nursery. You would grow pollen and petals for us to play with and throw at each other. But we couldn’t shout too loudly, because it would hurt Dolores’s ears.”

A nursery. They’d seen the nursery. A cozy room, with green walls and a carpet and bookshelves and beds and-

Pink petals, flying through the air

Another fistful thrown across the room, scattering on the carpet like pink jewels

Golden pollen drifting in the air

That hadn’t happened then-

A long time ago?

Faint memories, from long, long ago-

Bella and Lola did not cry. That had long been beaten out of them, because if they cried Daniela would give them something to cry about. But they were crying now, only a tiny bit, only a few drops in their eyes, even though they tried to stop, but Luisa and Camilo and Mirabel and Antonio noticed nonetheless, and they weren’t mad. They cried along with them, even Antonio, who didn’t know what he was crying about.

A man named Cesar, who looked just like him.

Felix stood on the veranda, staring at the sunset. Pink and orange and yellow and purple spilled out over the darkening blue sky.

Cesar, the worst of them, the one his daughter and niece most feared - they flinched simply to look at him. He had asked Agustin - begged Agustin to tell him everything he knew, he needed to know everything, every torment his daughter had been through in the past thirteen years, even as his soul shrank away in horror.

There was red in the sunset too. Streaks of scarlet, drifting through the golden-blue-pink sky like blood.

Cesar.

Felix clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.

He leaned his head against the wall and sighed, closing his eyes.

“Right,” Cesar said as the four of them dismounted from the wagon they’d rented.. “Remember the plan. Get in, find them, and get out quick before anyone else sees us.”

“What if they don’t come with us?” Marco asked.

Cesar rolled his eyes. “Then you make them come with you, obviously. They’ve done whatever we’ve told them to for the last decade; a couple of months back home shouldn’t have changed all that. Oh, and also-” He hesitated for a brief moment. “I’ve been thinking. Their gifts aren’t really worth all this trouble, for this long.”

“So we’re not-” Julio started to ask hopefully.

Cesar glared at him. “So we stick to the plan. We find them and bring them back with us. But. There might be other kids with gifts, more useful gifts. Everyone in that family has gifts, and there were a couple of babies here last time, weren’t there?”

“I think so,” Daniela said. Marco shrugged. Julio remained motionless.

“So,” Cesar said. “Our priority is Bella and Lola. But if you happen to find another magical kid...well, see if you can take the kid too. We have rope in the wagon, and you all have your knives, right?” He patted his own pocket, were there was a small bulge. “Okay. Daniela and Marco, start from the west side of town. Julio, you come with me, we’re starting from the east.” He glared at Julio again; everyone knew that Cesar suspected Julio in helping the girls escape several months ago, or at least of turning a blind eye to them when they had.

“Um,” Marco said. “Wouldn’t they be in the main house? That’s where they were last time.”

“Yes, and the rest of the family will be there too,” Daniela pointed out. “And they won’t be too happy to see us. So we’re first seeing if we can find them outside somewhere, or maybe some other magical kid. We’ll try the house later.”

“Enough talking,” Cesar ordered. “Let’s go!”

It wasn’t like they could just ask random people for directions to Bella and Lola Madrigal, because then people would want to know who they were. And they were leaving the house for last. Besides, Bella and Lola would probably run away if they saw them. So they were left crouching behind trees and ducking behind stalls in the marketplace to peer furtively around when a little voice announced, around the height of Daniela’s knee, “You look like my tia!”

Daniela looked down to find a little curly-haired boy, about three years old, staring up at her. He had dark skin and dark eyes and a smile on his lips.

He looked a little like Cesar, actually.

“You look like my tia!” the little boy repeated, and then burst out laughing as though that was the funniest thing ever.

Daniela lifted her arm to shoo the boy away but then paused. She looked like his aunt?

“Tia?” A six-year-old Lola had asked her, confused and frightened, before Daniela had shoved her away and snapped, “Do what Cesar tells you! Listen harder!”

Daniela paused, then slowly knelt down so she was at eye level with the boy. “I look like your aunt?”

Marco, across the street, gave her a funny look. Daniela glared at him. She wasn’t good with children.

The boy nodded. “Yeah! Sort of. You look sort of...sort of...harder. Sort of. My tia’s not here right now. Usually she gives people food in the market but my mami’s not feeling well so my tia’s helping her.”

“And what does your tia do?”

“She fixes people!” The boy jumped up and down. “With food!”

Fixes people with food. That was one of the magical gifts of the adult members of the Madrigal family.

“Is that her magical talent?” Daniela asked.

The boy nodded.

“Do you have a magical talent?” It was so easy, getting information out of children. They trusted everyone and told them absolutely everything. Bella and Lola had been like that too, at first, long ago. A few days of fear and pain had cured them of that.

“Nope.” The boy shook his head. “Not yet. I’m gonna get one when I turn five! Then I’ll have the best gift ever!”

“When you turn five? And how old are you now?”

“Three!” He held up three fingers.

Daniela looked behind the boy at Marco. He nodded, knowing what she was thinking.

A three-year-old would be very easy to spirit away. They could probably just carry him the whole way. He wouldn’t even remember his family, eventually. He would have no fighting spirit, no rebellion, no desire to escape. All he would ever know was them, and that he had to do what they told him to or else. In less than two years he would get his own magic power, and hopefully it would be more useful than Bella and Lola’s was. Besides, a little brother or cousin or whatever he was to them - he would be useful in getting them to behave.

“Is your last name Madrigal?” she asked.

The boy nodded. “Yeah! How’d you know?”

She laughed, keeping the boy distracted as Marco crept up from behind him. “Well, your family is sort of famous, you know. And what’s your first name?”

The boy beamed up at her, white teeth shining. “Antonio!”

Lola ran.

She wasn’t very good at running. She kept stumbling over roots and rocks, almost tripping, almost falling.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

“When you turn five? And how old are you now?”

Pepa - Mamá - hadn’t been feeling well, so Tia Julieta Who Wasn’t Daniela had been making her some tea to drink, and then everybody had realized that they couldn’t find Antonio, so Lola had listened for Antonio and -

“Three!”

Her lungs burned. Breathing hurt. In, out, in, out, through her mouth. She gasped for breath. Her side was hurting, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop.

“Is your last name Madrigal?”

The air pushed against her, blowing her hair in her face, like it was trying to push her back, away from Antonio - her hermano. Wind, it was called.

“Yeah! How’d you know?”

Out in the marketplace, brushing past people, and normally she would have cringed away from them, frozen up, gone to find Bella so they could sit quietly together, but not here, not now.

“Well, your family is sort of famous, you know. And what’s your first name?”

There.

She ran right between Daniela and Marco, snatched up Antonio, and ran.

Or tried to. Daniela caught her arm, her sleeve-

She yanked. She couldn’t get free-

Daniela was going to bring her back, she was going to bring her back to the house and the room and she would be punished and she wouldn’t see Bella ever again-

Her sleeve tore. She ran.

When a disheveled Dolores ran in clutching a confused Antonio, it only took a few moments of seeing how panicked and frightened she was, listening to her gabbled explanation, to figure out what had happened. But at that point it was already too late.

Luisa was standing at the door, feet planted as solid and immovable as trees; their blows bounced off of her. But then the thin mustached man, not the one who looked eerily like her uncle, and not the one who stood slightly behind them with a somber look on his face, grabbed a deck chair, and the one who looked like Tio Felix grabbed another, and they threw them at her just as the woman who looked like Mama was trying to force her way past her-

The chairs slammed into her, and she went down; she staggered up again only moments later, rubbing her head, but they were already inside.

The vision came on suddenly, as they often did, and Bruno barely had enough time to sit down in the sand before the pain in his head and flashing green images overtook him.

A few minutes later, he opened his eyes, grimacing. The vision had been confusing, as they were too often.

He’d seen Dolores running, holding Antonio in her arms.

A man he didn’t know, bleeding on the floor.

Camilo and Mirabel, running.

Luisa, looking scared and angry like she never had before.

Standing up and stretching, he peered down at the emerald tablet that had appeared, hoping it would offer him some clarity.

It showed the dining room table, downstairs. The family gathered around it, but everyone looked apprehensive. Felix and Julieta were yelling....at Felix and Julieta? No, that wasn’t them-

He ran, taking the stairs two at a time.

The devils burst in (”Luisa!” Julieta shrieked), brandishing their knives, and Agustin shouted for the children to run upstairs, jumping forward with his arms outstretched and somehow tripping over the carpet, and thunder rumbled outside, but Felix barely noticed any of it.

It was him, indeed. The man who looked just like him, who had treated his daughter and niece so abominably.

Rage was building within him, setting his blood on fire. He shook with anger.

“Cesar!” he roared.

Cesar turned to him. “And if it isn’t the father of dear young Lola himself!” He laughed mockingly. “It’s been a long time, cousin!”

Agustin, who had just stood up, tripped and fell back down again. “Cousin?”

“You are no cousin of mine,” Felix spat. “Not anymore.”

They were second cousins, actually. Their mothers were cousins. Felix’s mother’s mother and Cesar’s mother’s father had been siblings. Felix’s grandmother and her husband had moved to the village that later became the Encanto several years before the attack, while Cesar’s grandfather and his family had remained in Bogota. Communication between the two branches had been sporadic in the years after the miracle - there’d been a war going on, after all - but eventually the families had reconnected.

On the occasion that Felix’s family had visited their Bogota cousins, it had always been a family joke, how he and Cesar looked so much alike. They could have been brothers. They’d laughed about it.

“No?” Cesar raised an eyebrow. “That’s not what you said in that letter of yours. Twenty years ago, you were so excited to be marrying the woman of your dreams, you wrote letters to every single distant family member you possessed, inviting us all to the wedding. Quite a stormy wedding, that was. Same thing six years later - you wrote all about how your firstborn had inherited the family magic, how she could hear absolutely everything-”

And if Felix hadn’t written his second cousin Cesar (and his other relatives Diego and Emilia and Carmelita and Carlos and Jorge and every single other person he even distantly shared blood with, he had been so excited, so happy, so elated to be marrying Pepa, but that was beside the point) then Cesar might not have known about the Encanto and the wondrous gifts its leaders possessed, may never have decided to take those gifts for his own, would never have taken Dolores and Isabela; if Felix hadn’t been so stupid -

Cartilage crunched.

Cesar staggered back, clutching his nose. His blood was warm on Felix’s fingers. Bella and Lola, half-crouched behind the table, looked surprised.

Cesar glared daggers at Felix. “Forget this,” he growled.

At that moment Pepa literally stormed in, her earlier headache and chills forgotten. “You stop right there,” she shouted, eyes crackling and thunder rumbling, and Felix had never been so glad to see his wife, had never thought her more beautiful.

Cesar simply turned and grabbed for-

No.

Antonio had wriggled out of Dolores’ arms before, because he was a three-year-old boy who wanted to know what all the fuss was about, and none of the children had gotten to the stairs, let alone him, and he was trying to hide behind a table leg, and Cesar simply picked him up.

No. Not another child. Not again.

“Put him down.” Another growl of thunder punctuated Pepa’s voice, but she wavered uncertainly. She could not risk striking Cesar while he held Antonio, and he knew it.

Cesar laughed, then turned to the last of the group of four, a weary-looking man who had not spoken so far, and who actually looked somewhat reluctant. “Julio, take him to the wagon and wait for us there.” He handed Antonio to him.

Time seemed to slow and stretch like honey. Julio’s focused narrowed. He heard nothing, he saw nothing, except for the little frightened boy in his arms, staring up at him with wide, scared eyes just like his sisters’.

To take this boy, and bring him back to the city, where they would use him and abuse him just like they had done with his sisters.

Bella and Lola, terrified of everything, snatching scraps of food off the table, dodging blows with ease borne of long practice - or not dodging blows because if they held still the beating would be over faster. Moving fast out of necessity, to weave out of the way of people and the near-certain strike they would bring. Nightmares.

This little boy couldn’t end up like them.

Julio whispered something that Dolores would later say had been “Lola, catch,” and threw the little boy across the room.

Lola caught him, and she whirled and ran out of the room with him. Bella followed instantly, vines trailing behind her.

“Traitor,” Cesar shouted at Julio, and he reached inside his pocket, took out a small pistol, and shot Julio in the chest. He staggered and fell.

Bruno ran down the stairs, praying not to fall. Down and down, round and round-

He barely had a moment to take in the scene at the bottom before he threw the emerald tablet on the table. It shattered instantly, sharp viridescent fragments shooting through the air. All around the room, a rain of green glass fell, Julieta’s and Felix’s faces twinkling from the different facets of the shards.

After that, everything happened at once.

Felix tried to punch Cesar again, but Cesar dodged. Alma hit him with her cane, and he staggered back again.

Luisa came running in from the entranceway, a terrible yell of rage roaring from inside her at these people who dared harm her family. She grabbed one of them, the mustache one who had thrown the first chair at her, dragged him to the corner, threw him to the floor, and sat on him. She wanted to help take down the other three - the other two, the last one was bleeding in another corner and appeared to be breathing his last - but she couldn’t risk the one she had escaping.

Bella and Lola barricaded themselves and Antonio inside a closet, Bella weaving a net of vines across it from the inside.

Mirabel and Camilo tried to run upstairs, but Daniela chased them into the kitchen with a knife.

The kitchen was Julieta’s place. The kitchen was safe. The kitchen was a place of healing.

Mirabel and Camilo ran behind Julieta - “Mami,” Mirabel shrieked, and it was easy to see why. A woman coming after her with a long sharp serrated knife, she’d shriek to.

“You,” Julieta snarled. This was her. This was the woman who looked so much like her that her Isabela was terrified to even look at her. This was the woman who had treated her daughter so horribly. And now she threatened Julieta’s other daughter and nephew as well.

She had no weapons. Nothing to protect herself with.

Well, she was in the kitchen, which of course had multiple knives, but of course they were all on the rack on the opposite side of the room. She was by the stove, and the only thing in the only pot on the stove was a spoon.

“Now, look,” Daniela said calmly. “Do this the smart way, and no one will get hurt. I want them two-” She nodded at Camilo and Mirabel, both of whom Julieta could hear breathing fast and errativally as they shrank against her for protection, “-to come with me.”

Julieta’s fist closed around the pot on the stove. “Never,” she snarled, and threw it.

It was full of oil, near-boiling oil. She’d been about to start on dinner.

Daniela threw her arms up in time to protect her face, dropping her knife, but the pot hit her in the head, and the oil spilled out over her arms, her head, in between her fingers, as the pot fell and hit her in the foot. Her scream was agonized, terrible to hear, coming from a voice so like Julieta’s own.

Daniela gingerly lowered her hands, and Julieta marched across the room. “Listen to me,” she growled, as Daniela looked up just in time to see Julieta snatch a carving knife from the rack. “You get out of here right now and never hurt my family again - never come near my family again, or you will get ten times worse. You hear me?”

Daniela nodded wordlessly.

“Go!” Julieta barked.

The woman fled.

Back at the main entrance, Felix was giving Cesar a similar speech.

“I don’t care that we share blood,” he growled. “I don’t care that we’re kin. If you try to harm my family again, if you so much as come within a mile of here, I will kill you. Understand?”

“Yes.” Cesar spat blood from between his teeth. Felix’s second punch had taken him in the jaw. His gun was gone, smashed under Felix’s foot. He glared balefully at him. Felix knew that if he encountered Cesar again, he might not make it out alive.

But this was in his house, with his family, in his town. He had the advantage here, and it was much harder to beat up a man of approximately the same size and weight than it was to beat up two small, malnourished girls.

“So go,” Felix ordered.

Cesar went.

Luisa carried her captive over to the window and literally threw him out. He lay there bruised and groaning for a bit, but finally got up and hobbled away, most likely encouraged by Agustin and Pepa standing on the front steps glaring at him.

Everyone was alive and uninjured, somehow.

Bella and Lola knelt by Julio, whispering to him as he breathed his last breaths. Agustin hovered just behind them. Alma sat with Antonio on her lap. Bruno had ordered Julieta to sit down while he attempted to cook. Pepa and Felix were talking quietly in the corner. Luisa was stretched out on the floor while Camilo and Mirabel used her as a pillow.

They were all alive, and safe, and for now, that was enough.

And if three lightning bolts struck three disgruntled would-be abductors as they made their way through the mountains surrounding the Encanto in the dead of night, well....no one would ever know, would they?

Also posted on Archive of our Own.

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tonopahfallshq · 1 year

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Name: Julian Navarro Age: 39 Occupation: FBI Agent Time living in Tonopah: Just moved in Neighborhood: Downtown Gang Affiliation: None Face Claim: Adan Canto

Biography:

Born in Havana, Cuba to parents that wanted more for their kids, they attempted their move to the United States only for it to end with them torn apart. Their parents deportation left Julian, eleven at the time, and his younger sister with nowhere to go but into the foster system. Their separation was almost immediate and that day is one that has never faded from Julian’s mind no matter how much time had gone by and continues to. Julian spent years in the foster system, spending time in homes that were hardly interested in the kids and were more about the money they earned. At the beginning he would try to act the way he thought he should but as time passed, the older he got, the worse they treated him. In turn, Julian would tend to get himself intro trouble more often than not which at times even got him acquainted with some of the local law enforcement. One in particular that he knew from when he was first thrown into the system and attempted to find where his sister had gone. Over the years Detective Kemp found himself letting Julian off with warnings, making him work a punishment off in a more productive manner and in general, looking out for him. After a stunt at fifteen that would’ve landed Julian in some real trouble Kemp stepped in, saved his ass for the last time and took him in. Julian initially responded badly to the change, but just as his path had been diverted when he was a kid, it happened once again when he finally felt he had someone in his corner.

Julian went to college right out of high school for criminal justice. The few years under Kemp’s roof had caused him to turn his life around drastically. A career in law enforcement had never been on his mind before that but it hadn’t taken long for him to be influenced and seek it out for himself. College was also where he met a woman named Adeline. There was an immediate attraction between the two and Julian was quick with the draw to ask her on a date, which she had accepted. After four years of highs and lows, he left college with his bachelors degree and Adeline, who had become his fiancé the night of graduation. It took him an additional few years of meeting the necessary requirements before he was welcomed into the life of an FBI agent. Once he had earned the title, he found himself feeling as though he had something to prove, which caused him to be a workaholic.

At age 28, he had still not married Adeline, being he was too focused on work. One afternoon, she’d pulled him aside to tell him that she was pregnant. The kicker? It wasn’t his. It was his best friend Omar’s. Adeline was leaving him for Omar, her reasoning being that he was never around and prioritized work over her. After going through the break up with Adeline as well as the signs of Alzheimers from his adoptive father, Julian wound up throwing himself into his work even more than before. He was good at his job. More than good. But to be that and better, it meant Julian had to push boundaries. That rebel inside him never seeming to fully die. He was constantly riding the line of legality, which caused him to get his ass chewed out on multiple occasions by his higher ups, but it always managed to pay off in the end which he figured is why he managed to climb up in the world rather than get thrown out on his ass.

Eventually, Julian had to make the difficult decision to have Kemp sent to live in a nursing home. His Alzheimers disease had worsened to the point where he no longer recognized Julian. He felt he had to grieve someone that was still alive and that triggered something within him - something that he long thought he’d buried. Before Kemp had came into his life, he was hellbent on finding his sister and figuring out what had happened to her and his parents, however, once Kemp had adopted him and he began to view him as a father, he tucked away his former life into a box. He’d crafted his own mental image for them. That they were safe. That they were happy. Now, with the the way things had gone with Kemp, that box was overflowing with the memories he’d long tried to move past. He settled on finding his parents first and it hadn’t taken too long to find information on them, pulling some strings to make it happen. Once he had it, he hesitated. He passed it off as being busy with work, but deep down, he knew that it was because he was riddled with anxiety. It’d been 28 years since he’d last seen them.

It took him six months before he finally bit the bullet and bought the plane ticket. He was nervous, but had big hopes for the reunion with his parents. Only, it didn’t go as planned. He met his mother, who was still beautiful even with her age. It was exactly how he imagined it would go until he learned that his father had passed away a month prior. An emptiness settled deep within his bones. Then the awareness that if he hadn’t hesitated those all those months prior, things would’ve been different. He would’ve had time with him if he didn’t let his nerves get the best of him. Due to this guilt he felt, he promised his mother that he would find his sister and bring the three of them together. Once again, pulling some more strings to figure out where Reina had ended up after all this time, he learned she was in a place that was right in the middle of a investigation regarding the cartel, the local MC and the spike in bodies dropping. Without any hesitation he figured - two birds, one stone and asked to be relocated for the investigation, packing his bags for Tonopah.

Headcanons:

Read's a lot, of just about anything even if it looks ridiculous, he'll read it. An add on to that is that he picks up a lot of random facts and spits them out for no reason whenever. The more random they are, the better honestly.

Seems like a hard-ass, enjoys getting under peoples skin and learning their tells but that's kind of his job regardless, he's actually a big softie.

When he gets in his head you'll usually find him taking apart something just to put it back together, better and more satisfying for him if it's something he's repairing.

#julian navarro.#male.#not affiliated.#tfhq.characters

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novamariestark · 1 year

Text

Tell it to the Frogs

— 5 years ago —

"Aunty Cindy, stop it," Carl giggled as his aunt mercilessly tickled him. He laughed as he squirmed around on the floor trying to get away.

Cindy laughed as she continued her tickle assault on her nephew, "No, not until you change your answer," she told him.

Carl laughed, "Ok, ok, ok. You're cooler than Uncle Shane," he told her and she ceased her attack and nodded in approval, satisfied with his answer.

Rick walked in, still dressed in his uniform. He looked at his son and his baby sister, still sat on the floor of the living room, "What's going on?" he asked with a laugh.

Cindy held up her hand before she began to speak, "This little weasel," she started, she poked Carl's cheek, before continuing, "Said Shane was cooler than me,"

"So she attacked me with tickles until I changed my answer," Carl added, causing his father to erupt with laughter.

Rick shook his head, "You two..." he said before jogging up the stairs to change out of his work clothes.

— Present day —

Carl woke up with a smile on his face, remembering his dream. His eyes adjusted to the bright light of the sun peering through the fabric of the tent. When they did, he remembered where he was, his smile then dropped when he remembered that both his father and his aunt are gone.

"Carl, honey. Time to get up," his mom's voice sounded from outside of the tent.

Carol was sat near the campfire, helping Carl and Sophia with math. Lori walked over towards her son after finishing folding the laundry.

"Hey sweetie," she said softly, she sat down beside him, "How are you doing?"

"Okay," he replied shortly. Lori ran her hands through her son's hair.

"What are you thinking about?" she asked him, although she had a pretty good idea what it was.

Carl looked up at his mother, his bottom lip quivering, tears brimming in his eyes, "Do you think aunty Cindy is dead too?" he asked, the tears broke free from his eyes, like a dam had exploded.

"I don't know, sweetie." She told him honestly. She continued to comfort him, "I can't know for sure..."

"She got out," Shane's voice spoke suddenly from behind them, startling them both. Carl looked up hopefully at his dad's best friend. Shane crouched down beside him, "She's resourceful, she's smart. I bet she's on her way now. We left a note for her, remember?"

"To meet us in Atlanta, Shane," Lori reminded him, she was horrified by the thought that her and Shane had sentenced her sister-in-law to a slow, painful death.

Shane stayed silent, he didn't know how to answer that. He stood from his position and walked away. Lori's eyes followed him before they fell to her son, "Sweetie, finish your work, I'm going to cut your hair later," she told him.

The van was cruising down the road. Rick's thoughts centred around the man that they had left on the roof, wondering what happened to him. if he was alive or dead. Morales spoke up, pulling Rick from his thoughts.

"Best not to dwell on it, that Merle got left behind. Nobody's gonna be sad he didn't come back," he spoke, he tone of his voice suggested he was trying to comfort him, "Except maybe Daryl," he added.

"Daryl?" Rick asked him, turning his head from the road to the man beside him.

"His brother," he replied, Rick nods slowly then returns his eyes to the road ahead. They then heard a car alarm quickly approaching. Rick looked into his mirror to see the red sports car. Glenn was having the time of his life. Speeding down the empty highway. Miles of clear road ahead of him to enjoy the car to the fullest. To drive it the way it was meant to be driven, like an animal that needed to run. The engine purred as it sped over the asphalt. Cindy chuckled at the whoops that could be heard from the car.

"At least somebody's having a good day," Morales commented as they watched the red car speed by before quickly leaving their field of vision.

Back at the camp, Jim is hanging empty food cans between trees around the camp as an alarm system. Shane, Lori and Carl were sat beside the campfire. Shane is cleaning his shotgun while Lori is sitting behind Carl, with a comb and scissors in her hands, giving him a haircut.

"Baby, the more you fidget the longer it takes. So don't okay?" Lori said to him as she attempts to cut his hair. "I'm trying," he whined back to her in response.

"Well, try harder," she said as she continued to cut his hair. Straightening his hair with the comb and clipping the ends.

"You think this is bad? Just wait until you start shaving. That stings. That day comes, you'll be wishing for one of your momma's haircuts." Shane spoke up, still cleaning his shotgun.

"I'll believe that when I see it." Carl said, disbelief evident in his tone.

Shane chuckled at his reply, "I'll tell you what, you just get through this with some manly dignity and tomorrow I'll teach you something special." He said, Carl's face lit up with interest, "I will teach you to catch frogs." Lori looked up to at Shane and smiled.

"I've caught a frog before." Carl told him.

"I said frogs, plural. It is an art, my friend. It is not to be taken lightly. There are ways and means. Few people know about it. I'm willing to share my secrets." Shane said with his signature smirk spread across his face.

Carl snapped his head behind him to look at his mom, unsure of what to say, "Oh, I'm a girl. You talk to him," Lori told him, turning the young boy's head back to look at Shane.

"It's a one-time offer, bud, not to be repeated." Shane told the young boy, he smirked as he continued to clean his weapon.

"Why do we need frogs, plural?" Carl asked, he arched his eyebrow, confusion written on his small features.

"Have you ever eaten frog legs?" Shane asked the boy.

Carl scrunched up his face in disgust and squirmed in his seat, "Ewww." He groaned as Shane laughed.

"No, yum!" Shane argued.

"No, he's right. Eww," Lori agreed, as she resumed cutting Carl's hair.

"When you get down to that last can of beans, you're gonna be loving those frog legs, lady. I can see it now" Shane told her, "Shane, do you think I could have a second helping, please? Please? Just one?" he teased in a higher pitch, at an attempt to imitate Lori's voice.

"Yeah, I doubt that," Lori snorted as she shook her head with a laugh.

Shane chuckled and continued, "Don't listen to her, man. You and me, we'll be heroes. We'll feed these folks cajun-style Kermit legs,"

"I would rather eat Miss Piggy," Lori commented, she saw the amusement on Shane's face and nodded, "Yes, that came out wrong," she laughed, followed by a few laughs from Shane.

"Heroes, son, spoken of in song and legend. You and me, Shane and Carl." Shane and Carl laugh, their conversation is cut short when the sound of a car alarm, increasing in volume as it quickly approached the camp.

Shane stood up a rushed towards the RV, "Talk to me, Dale!" he instructed. Dale stood on his RV holding up his binoculars to his eyes, trying to find where the noise was coming from, "I can't tell yet," he replied.

"Is it them?" Are they back?" Amy asked him, eyes filled with hope. Dale continues to look through his binoculars and spots a red Dodge Challenger speeding up the hill.

"I'll be damned," Dale exclaimed as he lowered his binoculars to see if he really was seeing the red car approaching.

"What is it?" Amy asked the question everyone was thinking.

"A stolen car is my guess," he replied to the girl as the car slowly approached the entrance of the camp. Lori shields her eyes from the sun to get a look at the approaching vehicle.

Glenn pulls to a stop and gets out of the car, a big grin on his face, the alarm still blaring, "Holy crap, turn that damn thing off!" Dale yelled.

"I don't know how!" Glenn exclaimed over the car alarm.

Shane and Amy start talking, over each other, at Glenn. "Pop the hood! Pop the damn hood, please!" Shane ordered tapping hood as Amy continued to ask him about her sister, "My sister, Andrea-"

"Pop the damn hood!" Shane said raising his voice a little to be heard over the alarm and now Amy.

"Is she okay?"

"What? Okay, okay. Yeah! Yeah! Yeah!" Glenn said to Amy as he gets into the car and leans over to press the button to pop the hood.

"Is she okay? Is she all right?" Amy continued her question filled assault on Glenn as he tried to listen to both her and Shane.

"Yeah, yeah" Glenn said as he got back out of the car, Shane opens the hood, "She's okay! She's okay!" Dale had climbed down from the RV and came to stand beside Jim and the car.

"Is she coming back?" Amy asked, Jim pulls a wire out of the engine and the alarms stops.

"Yes!" Glenn yelled even though the alarm had been disabled. He was a bit annoyed how people were just shouting all at once at him just moments ago.

"Why isn't she with you? Where is she? She's okay?" Amy maintained her onslaught of questions.

"Yes! Yeah. Fine. Everybody is." Glenn replied to her, voice rising as he got a little annoyed at being shouted out, "Well, Merle not so much." Glenn added sadly, the tone of his voice suggested something bad had happened.

Shane looked up angrily at Glenn still leaning on the car, "Are you crazy, driving this wailing bastard up here? Are you trying draw every walker for miles?" Shane questioned him, looking at him like he was an idiot.

"I think we're okay," Dale spoke up in Glenn's defence, having a quick look around.

"You call being stupid okay?" Shane asked, looking behind him at the older man.

"Well, the alarm was echoing all over these hills. Hard to pinpoint the source." Dale explained, Shane stood up from leaning on the car and shut the hood. His hands on his hips as he looked at Dale, "I'm not arguing. I'm just saying." He pointed at Glenn, "It wouldn't hurt you to think things through a little more carefully next time, would it?" he asked Glenn who looked down at the ground bashfully.

"Sorry. Got a cool car." He said quietly shyly. Amy stood up on her tip toes to get a good look at the car. Dale nods in agreement as he looks over the car. Slowly the cube van approached. Glenn smiled at the group and looked at the van as it pulled to a stop behind the red Challenger and a white Dodge Ram Wagon with the words 'Holy Cross Lutheran Church' written on the side.

Rick turned off the engine. His hands were shaking. He doesn't know why he was so nervous. Morales said he and his sister would be welcome here. Especially since he saved their skins. 'We're just staying the night to rest up and then we're going to look for our family. If they are alive. I hope they are. But what if they're not. No, Rick. Don't think like that.' He thought. Morales' voice brought him out of the warzone of his thoughts, "Come meet everybody." he placed a hand on Rick's shoulder before getting out of the truck and reuniting with his family.

Cindy moves to sit beside her brother, "You okay?" she asked. Rick sighed and nodded, Cindy gave her brother a sad smile, she knew exactly what he was thinking about, "You're lying. We'll find them. They are with Shane and you know he wouldn't let anything happen to them." She whispered as she put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

Rick sits up in his seat and runs a hand down his face, "Yeah, you're right. As usual." He replied whispering the last part. Of course she heard it and gave him a playful shove in return.

Andrea gets out the back of the truck and immediately runs to hug her sister, "You scared the shit out of me." Amy cried into her shoulder.

Morales' family run up to him, "Papi," Morales picked up his daughter and hugged his wife. Carl began to cry at the sight of Morales being reunited with his family. He remembered all the times when he ran to hug his dad after came home from work. And Cindy too. When she was on leave she would come and stay with them. He hoped that they'd drive up the road and they could all be together again but his father was dead, his aunt was left alone. For all he knew, she could be dead too. He tried telling himself that she could handle it, that she was his badass aunt that could survive anything but there was no way to know. All he could do was hope.

Lori crouched down beside the boy as he continued to cry, "I'm sorry baby. I know you sometimes hope that they will walk right into camp, alive and well but your father is gone and..." she paused looking down to the ground before continuing, "And aunt Cindy, we know she's tough and can handle a lot of things but she was never trained for this. None of them were."

"I know. I just want them back." He cried as his eyes began to overflow with tears desperate to break out.

"I know, baby. So do I." she spoke softly to him.

Shane looked at the pair as Dale spoke to Morales "You are a welcome sight," he greeted as he gave him a hug, "I thought we had lost you folks for sure."

"How'd y'all get out of there anyway?" Shane questioned the group that had just returned, interrupting the joyous moment.

"Two new guys, they got us out." Glenn replied placing his hands on the door of the red sports car.

"New guys?" Shane questioned a little unsure about new people. He knew there were a lot of nasty people out there. Probably even more dangerous than the dead. He just hoped that they were good people and not a danger to the group. Especially to Lori and Carl.

"Yeah, crazy hermanos just got into town," Morales said with a laugh. He turned his head to look at the van they had arrived in, "Hey, helicopter twins! Come say hello," he called, looking back towards the van that they had just arrived in.

'Helicopter twins' Cindy repeated as she chuckled, shaking her head whilst opening the door to get out of the passenger seat as her brother did the same.

"One of them is a cop like you."

Rick came into view first. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. Shane's facial expression turned to one of disbelief as his eyes landed on his best friend. Alive and well. Rick's expression mirrored Shane's as he realised who was standing no more than five metres away. Shane took a step backward, as if he saw a ghost.

Carl's small head turned to his left, and within a second his breath was taken from his throat as he stared at his father. Trying to figure out whether it was real or just his imagination.

Lori followed Carl's gaze and her eyes landed on her husband. Her face registered shock, looking at the man who she thought was dead.

Rick's eyes began to water when he saw them. He glanced to the side at his sister with a tearful smile. She nodded back to him, "Well? What are you waiting for?" she asked with a smirk on her face.

Rick pointed at them as he started towards them. Carl immediately reacted and ran at full speed towards him, Lori quickly followed, "Dad! Dad!" he cried, launching himself into his father's arms. Lori froze in shock. Cindy stood back and let them enjoy their family moment.

Rick hugged his son, gripping onto him as if he were afraid it wasn't real. As if he would disappear. He picked him up and made his way to his wife. As he started making his way towards her, Lori became unfrozen and started walking towards him, her pace increasing with every step she took.

Rick pulled her into his embrace, still a little in shock. Lori looked over Rick's shoulder at Shane. His expression not as happy as it should be. A few minutes of them hugging each other, Shane spoke up, "I thought there was two of them?"

Rick smiled and looked in the direction his sister was standing and back to his wife and son. She was watching the reunion of her family. He needed his own time with them. After all she had seen them more recently than Rick.

Rick looked to his son with a smile, "I've got a surprise for you," Carl's eye lit up like the 4th of July. A wide smile making its way onto his face. Carl muttered a quiet 'What'. Rick turned his head to look at his sister again.

She took this as her cue to join, she walked from beside the van and into view of everyone in the camp. Carl's smile returned to his face when he saw who it was. Rick placed Carl back on the ground, "Aunty Cindy!" he cried as he immediately ran towards her. She crouched down to the ground arms wide open as he ran into them. Carl returned her hug and then started to cry.

"I've missed you so much, Little Man," she said as she ruffled his hair. Carl smiled at her use of the nickname she gave him. It was way better than the first nickname she gave him 'Carly' and with enough whining on his part, she changed it.

"I missed you too, Aunty Cindy." He replied. Relief swept through the young boy like waves in the ocean. His family was back together. Everyone was alive and safe. Nothing could ruin this moment. He was happy. Completely, genuinely happy.

Later that night

The night was dead silent, besides the sound of crickets and the crackling of the fire. Everyone was sat round the camp after dinner, enjoying the warmth and the company of those around them. Rick was sat in the middle, Lori on his right, Rick's arm wrapped around her, his other wrapped around Carl, who was in his lap leaning against his chest as Lori ran her hands through his brown locks. Cindy sat on the other side of Rick. Carl's small hand in hers as if he was making sure she didn't go anywhere. Cindy laid her head on her brother's shoulder, enjoying this time with her family. She had a feeling that it wouldn't always be like this, so she wanted to enjoy it while it lasted.

"Disoriented. I guess that comes closest. Disoriented." Rick started as everyone around the fire listened to him, "Fear, confusion... all those things but..." he pauses again as the sound of thunder echoes in the night sky, "Disoriented comes closest." As he finished the sentence his grip on his family tightened protectively.

Another voice spoke up, an older male that sat directly opposite the family, "Words can be meagre things. Sometimes they fall short." He put his drink down on the floor and looked at the faces around the fire.

Rick continued his view of the new world, "I felt like I'd been ripped out of my life and put somewhere else. For a while I thought I was in some sort of coma dream, something I might not wake up from... ever," he said, his head turned to look at his sister beside him, "That is until after I found Cindy. At first I thought she was getting me back for the prank me and Shane pulled on her but when I realised she was serious... I just can't put it into words."

"I remember that." Cindy spoke up, Shane laughed as he also remembered the prank he pulled on her about ten years ago, "Asshole." she muttered, eliciting laughs from all the members around the campfire.

"What prank did they play on you?" Amy asked, she loved the idea of having a female her age to talk to in camp.

"I want to know too," Carl's small voice spoke up, his pleading eyes looking up at her like an adorable puppy.

Cindy nodded, agreeing to tell the story. Rick chuckled from beside her which she returned sarcastically whilst flipping him off. He muttered 'That's rude,' under his breath causing Cindy to shake her head.

"Well, it was about 10 years ago..."

—10 years ago—

Rick was stood at the front door of his old family home, waiting for his sister to come down the stairs. She was taking a long time to get ready. It was no secret to her brother that she didn't want to go, "Come on, Cindy. You're gonna miss your appointment!" he yelled up to her.

"That would be a shame!" Came her reply from upstairs. Rick rolled his eyes as his father came from the kitchen.

"She still not ready?" his father asked him, laughing at his daughter's attempt to get out of her appointment. Rick shook his head in response. He soon started to smirk when he got an idea, his dad's face screwed up in confusion, "What?" he asked his son. Rick held up his index finger indicating for his dad to wait a moment.

"Hey, Cindy. If you go to your appointment I'll buy you a car for..." As soon as the word 'car' left his mouth a door slammed and hurried footsteps patted on the ceiling above him then made their way down the steps. Cindy came to a stop at the bottom of the steps with a big smile on her face. Rick nodded, obviously pleased with himself, "I thought that would work," he told his dad, he looked at his little sister and motioned her to follow him. As he stepped out of the door, she hesitated and took a step backwards, "Ah, ah, no dentist, no car." He smirked.

"You're enjoying this aren't you?" she asked him as she walked out the door and down the porch steps.

"Nah. Well maybe just a little." He said as he followed her towards his squad car. He laughed when his sister gave him the middle finger as she got into the passenger seat.

Rick got into the other side and started the car, reversing out of the driveway and making his way to the hospital, "There's nothing to be worried about, besides think about the ice cream you'll get to eat,"

"Ooh, ice cream," Cindy's mouth began to water as she could practically taste the triple chocolate ice cream, "So... what car are you getting me?"

Rick chuckled at her directness and shrugged, "What car do you want?" he asked her, she smirked and placed her finger on her chin, as if she were deep in thought.

"Something expensive." She replied as she continued to think about the car she wanted.

"Don't push it." Rick said as sternly as he could although he couldn't help the smile that came onto his face.

"Hey, it's the least you can do. You're the one driving me to be tortured."

Rick rolled his eyes at how dramatic his sister was being, "You're not going to get tortured. You're just having your wisdom teeth removed."

"Tooth extraction is a known torture technique to either get information or inflict pain." She argued, Rick chuckled and shook his head. The random things she would come out with always put a smile on his face.

Not long after, they arrived at the surgery. Rick parked the car and stepped out. Cindy, however, stayed put. Rick threw his head back and sighed. He walked over to the passenger door and opened it, then leaned on the roof as he spoke to her, "Come on, Cindy. You're 16 next month, not six." She still didn't budge so he continued, "A brand new car," he said trying to convince her.

"Okay," she stepped out of the car, closing the door behind her.

They were sat there for about twenty minutes before someone called her name, "Cindy Grimes," the lady spoke.

Cindy started to get really nervous and Rick immediately reacted and gave her a hug, "You'll be fine, Cindy. I promise." Cindy nodded and followed the woman out of the waiting area and into a room.

Rick stayed seated in the waiting area. He sat there in silence for a good thirty minutes until Shane walked through the doors. Immediately Rick thought there was an emergency and he had to go to work but when he saw the smirk on Shane's face, he knew his best friend was up to something.

"What are you doing here?" Rick asked him when he sat on the vacant chair beside him.

"I just couldn't miss this opportunity." He replied vaguely, his smirk still situated on his face.

"Why? What are you up to?" Rick questioned, which is returned by a hearty chuckle, Shane looked at his best friend "Just go with it, Rick. It'll be good" He told him. His eyes were sparkling with both amusement and mischief.

Rick didn't know what Shane was up to but he had a feeling he would find out soon.

An hour passed before the door opened and a very lost but fascinated looking Cindy being wheeled through the double doors of the waiting room, "Wheeee!"

Shane burst out laughing immediately, hunched over and completely red in the face as if he'd forgotten how to breathe, "It's already so good," he said after he'd finally regained his breath and composed himself.

The nurse then wheeled the teenager out of the surgery and into the car park, towards the car. Rick helped his sister get into the car and thanked the nurse. She smiled and walked away taking the wheelchair back in with her.

Shane clapped his hands together, "Right. We need to get out of here." He said. Rick furrowed his eyebrows at his best friend, Shane smirked at his best friend's confusion and continued, "We need to go before the aliens get here."

"What aliens?" Cindy slurred, the cotton in her mouth muffling her voice a bit, "Like Martians or E.T"

"What are you doing?" Rick whispered to his best friend.

"Oh, come on Rick. It'll be good. I promise." Shane said trying to convince him. Rick knew he wouldn't let this go he also knew that there would be hell to pay when Cindy was in her right mind again. He just hoped he was around to watch when she decided to kill Shane.

"It's your funeral, she will kill you for this." Rick warned him, Shane just shrugged and stated that it was 'worth it.'

Shane got into the back of the squad car as Rick climbed into the driver's seat, "It was on the news. Aliens have landed and they've been taking children to turn into their little workers. Ages 20 and under."

Cindy gasped, "I'm under 20," she cried, she looked out of the window as trees and buildings went by, looking out for any sign of aliens coming to take her away, "I don't want to be taken away." Tears were rolling down her eyes as she spoke. Rick looked into the rear-view mirror and shook his head at his best friend. Shane just snickered and carried on teasing the poor girl.

"Yeah, we have to go to a safe place. Food, protection. We'll be safe. We just have to get there." Shane said, it wasn't long until they pulled back up into the driveway. Cindy was still in tears.

"Why are we here? It's not safe." Cindy told her brother. Her features showed severe panic.

"Come on, Rick. We have to get out of here." Shane said, pretend fear laced in his voice.

"Wait... I need to get my pet unicorn." Cindy said as she attempted to get out of the car without undoing the seatbelt which amused both Shane and her brother. Shane found it funny whereas Rick found it kind of adorable.

"Cindy, you don't have a unicorn," Rick replied carefully as if not to upset her.

"Yes I do. I want my unicorn." She cried, her salty tears dampening her face as a waterfall flowed from each eye, "I can't let the aliens eat her."

"Shane come on. This isn't funny." He whispered turning his head to look at him.

"Hey, I said nothing about no unicorn." Shane said in his defence. His hands up in surrender as he shook his head.

— Present Day—

Everyone around the campfire laughed as the girl finished her story, glaring at Shane opposite her. He tried to feign innocence but Cindy wasn't having any of it.

"The most upsetting part was finding out that I didn't have a unicorn." Cindy told the group, a smile on her face as she recalled the memory.

"Did you kick Uncle Shane's ass?" Carl asked looking up at his aunt. She opened her mouth to respond but before she could Shane interrupted

"She came at me with a wrench."

"I did try to warn you," Rick pointed out with a chuckle which had a domino effect around the fire.

"I was sitting at the dinner table, this man was telling me all about what's happening in the world, which I didn't believe. Not at first. Then we heard a thump from upstairs and who comes trotting down?" Rick asked as he turned his head to his baby sister.

"Well, I had to get in somehow." She stated simply with a shrug, "The doors and the windows downstairs were barricaded shut. How else was I going to get in?" Cindy questioned. One that didn't really require an answer.

There was a moment of silence before Carl broke it, "Mom said you died." He told him as he looked up at his father.

Rick looked at Lori before looking down at the boy in his arms, stroking his hair as he replied, "She had every reason to believe that, and don't you ever doubt it." Rick was always so understanding and sympathetic. It made Lori feel about 3 ft tall as guilt swept over her, she stole a quick glance at Shane through the fire as she thought about what they did not even 24 hours ago.

"When things started to get really bad... they told me at the hospital that they were going to medevac you and the other patients to Atlanta... and it never happened." Lori said a little bit distraught and relieved that it didn't happen. His chances of survival in Atlanta would have been slim to none especially now the city belonged to the dead.

"I'm not surprised after Atlanta fell," Rick looked around the campfire at the other survivors. Realising that this is actually real. It is not a dream. He keeps hoping it's a dream but it's not. His sister had come to terms with it. Now he had to do the same. To protect them. To protect his family, "and by the looks of that hospital it got overrun."

"Yeah, looks don't deceive. I barely got them out, you know." Shane spoke as he looked at Rick.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am to you Shane. I can't begin to express it." He replied to him, Cindy nodded and smiled at him whilst still attached to her brother's shoulder. She couldn't express her gratitude enough either.

"There go those words falling short again. Paltry things,"

"Rick, I was there. I told you what happened, remember?" Cindy asked her brother, picking her head up from his shoulder to look at him.

Cindy watched as a cogs turned inside her brother's head eventually turning on a light bulb, "Oh, yes. I remember."

Cindy looks down at Carl and pokes her brother's temple, "See, this is what happens when you get old." She joked, Carl giggles in response which amplifies when he saw the look on his dad's face.

"I. Am. Not. Old" Rick said, emphasizing every word he spoke. Which only caused more giggles to erupt. The sound of wood clanged not far from where they sat alerted them. They all turned to see Ed throwing more wood into the small fire he and his family were sitting around. Away from the others.

"Hey, Ed, you want to rethink that log?" Shane questioned him although it was more of a suggestion. The tone is authoritative, showing himself as the unspoken leader of the group. As a former cop, he knew how to shoot, and how to protect, and everyone naturally felt safe around him.

"It's cold, man," Ed said as he lazily threw his head back, all eyes were on him. Cindy raised her head from Rick's shoulder and looked at Ed. She could tell something was about to happen. She looked at the woman and the young girl also sat at the fire. Curled up into balls as if they were afraid of something. Or someone. Her eyes returned to the man who was currently centre of attention and she studied him. Closely.

"The cold don't change the rules, does it? Keep our fires low, just embers so we can't be seen from a distance, right?" Shane questioned him again. Rick silently watched the conversation. His eyes watching both Shane and Ed.

"I said it's cold. You should mind your own business for once," Ed fired back at Shane.

Shane got up from his seat at the fire, T-Dog held out his hand to stop him but he was already gone. He approached the smaller fire and stood in front of the man, trying to intimidate the man without actually doing anything, "Hey, Ed. Are you sure you want to have this conversation, man?" his voice, a little bit more serious than before but still not too threatening. He let his towering figure do that.

"Go on. Pull the damn thing out," Ed ordered Carol, looking at her, to quiet the man tall above him. Carol's gaze flickered between the log and her husband, "Go on." He repeated. She stood up, placing her blanket on her chair and pulled the log out with her hands.

Cindy did not like this guy at all. Controlling. Fear was evident on the woman's face as she did what she was told as if something bad would happen if she didn't. 'So possibly abusive' she thought to herself. The gaze then shifted to the young girl, Sophia. Her sad eyes followed her mother's every move. To Cindy, it seemed that Ed's abuse wasn't just focused on Carol but on the young girl too.

"Christ," Shane muttered as Carol placed the log on the ground away from the fire. The wood crackled on the ground, Shane stomped on it to put the fire out. Shane then crouched down and looked at Carol and Sophia, "Hey, Carol, Sophia, how are y'all this evening," he asked them softly.

"Fine. We're just fine," Carol replied quickly, she gulped as she glanced at her husband, a scowl carved on his face as he stared at his wife, "I'm sorry about the fire-" she apologised but was cut off by Shane.

"No, no, no. No apology needed," Shane assured her with a small smile ignoring the huff of annoyance coming from the man behind him, "Y'all have a good night, okay?" Shane bid them before he stood up, "I appreciate the cooperation," Shane told Ed as he walked past him, sarcasm and a tinge of anger dripping from his voice. He walked towards the towards the larger group and sat back down in his spot.

"Have you given any thought to Daryl Dixon?" Dale asked after a moment of silence. Daryl, the younger Dixon brother, who mostly kept to himself or was with Merle and he didn't talk much. He was more the strong, silent type. An expert hunter and tracker. He often went out hunting for food for the group, mainly as an excuse to get away from the group. Merle however threw countless insults towards members of the group, especially Glenn and T-Dog. Daryl voiced some insults but overall, it was the eldest Dixon that caused the trouble, making some of the survivor's uneasy.

"He won't be happy to hear that his brother has been left behind." Dale finished, 'Well, no shit he won't be happy.' Cindy thought to herself. 'If Rick was left chained to a roof to be ripped apart. I'd be a little pissed too.'

"I'll tell him. I dropped the key. It's on me," T-Dog said, eyes never leaving the fire. It was obvious that T-Dog blamed himself for the abandonment of Merle, the guilt stained his features.

Rick shook his head at the man as he spoke, "I cuffed him. That makes it mine."

"Guys, it's not a competition. I don't mean to bring race into this, but it might sound better coming from a white guy," Glenn pointed out. T-Dog still wanted to tell him, "I did what I did. Hell if I'm gonna hide from him," reruns of the events of the past few hours replayed in his head. Torturing him, it was his fault he was left behind so he thought he should be the one to tell Daryl and endure his anger.

"We could lie," Amy suggested from her spot beside Andrea, the two have not let each other go since the group came back from Atlanta.

"Or tell the truth," Andrea countered, despite the fact she tried to shoot Rick, she firmly believed he did the right thing when he cuffed Merle to the roof, "Merle was out of control. Something had to be done or he'd have gotten us killed," Andrea looked at Lori when she added the next part, "Your husband did what was necessary. And if Merle got left behind, it is nobody's fault but Merle's." she finished, a moment of silence followed as the group weighed in their options

Everyone, for the most part, agreed with Andrea's statement. Everyone besides Dale and Cindy. She felt that if it was one of her loved one's that were up on that roof, it wouldn't matter what way she was told, she'd be pretty pissed. Cindy soon realised she wasn't the only one who doubted the past suggestion when Dale spoke up, "And that's what we tell Daryl? I don't see a rational discussion to be had from that, do you?" Dale asked everyone stayed silent as the older man looked around the fire.

"The way I see it?" Cindy asked the older man, looking up at him. She wasn't expecting an answer, she was merely signalling to the group that she was going to voice her opinion. Dale nodded at the young girl to continue, "It doesn't matter what way you tell him. The result stays the same. One pissed off man." She stated with a shrug, "I mean, I know if it were Rick and if he was all I had left. There would be hell to pay." Cindy gave a small smile to Dale before settling back in her seat.

Dale spoke up with the girl's words in mind, "We're gonna have our hands full when he gets back from his hunt."

"I was scared and I ran," T-Dog's voice shivered as he spoke, the terrors of the day taunting him, "I'm not ashamed of it." He admitted. Cindy was confused as to where he was going with this. He didn't need to be ashamed. Of course he was scared, his life was on the line. Run or die.

"We were all scared. We all ran. What's your point?" Andrea spoke up, asking the question on everybody's mind.

"I stopped long enough to chain that door. Staircase is narrow. Maybe half a dozen geeks can squeeze against it at any one time. It's not enough to break through that. Not that chain, not that padlock. My point...Dixon's alive and he's still up there, handcuffed on that roof. That's on us," T-Dog informed them he stood up and headed towards his tent.

The revelation that Merle was still alive on that roof got the siblings thinking. Cindy wanted to go back, so did Rick. Neither of them wanted the other to go. All that Cindy knew, is that if it were Rick on that roof... Nothing would stop her from going after him. She had a feeling Daryl would do the same.

Silence fell on the group and all that could be heard was the crackling of the fire. It wasn't long before everyone else started to head to bed.

The Grimes' went to their tent, where there were two different cots. One for Carl and one for Lori and now Rick, "Cindy, I'm sorry... I completely forgot. I'll go and see if..." Lori began to apologise and walk past the girl. Cindy grabbed her arm and shook her head.

"Don't worry about it, I'll sleep on the floor for tonight," she told her, not wanting to bother anyone, especially now because they were going to sleep.

"You sure?" Lori asked, she didn't want her sister to sleep on the hard floor.

"Yes, mother, I'm sure," Cindy replied with a smirk as she settled down on the ground, she looked up at Carl, "Night, little man,"

"Night, Aunty Cindy," he said back, pure joy in his tone. Rick was sat beside him tucking him in.

"I found you, didn't I?" Rick asked gently the young boy as he stroking his head.

"I love you, Dad." He responded to his dad before letting out a big yawn.

"I love you, Carl." Rick replied in a serious tone. Rick kisses him on the forehead before Carl turns over to go to sleep. Lori reaches her hand up from the bed and takes Rick's. He lays down beside her kisses her, "I found you both." He told her after he settled under the covers.

"Yeah." Lori whispered, barely audible.

"I knew I would." Rick told her which made Lori smile.

"You're getting cocky now, a little bit." Lori told him, her smile still shining on her face.

"No. No, I knew." Rick continued

"He really did," Cindy interjected, from the floor causing the two adults to look at her and laugh.

"Walking into our home, finding an empty house, both of you gone." Rick added, remembering when he went back home and finding nobody.

"I'm so sorry." Lori spoke, her voice breaking. She felt guilty she left him but she thought he was dead, she wasn't at fault.

"I knew you were alive." He told her, reassuring her and silently telling her that it gave him the will to fight.

"How?" Lori asked, wondering how he could possibly have known that they were still alive. It was the same situation they had with Cindy, they had no idea whether she was alive or dead or... undead.

Thunder rumbled outside as Rick replied to his wife's question, "The photos were gone, all our family albums." Lori smiles in return and chuckles. She kissed his hand and reached for the album that is sat beside the bed.

"I told you so." He said with a smug look on his face.

"Now you're getting cocky, huh? A lot." Lori laughed as she opened the photo album to look through it. Landing on a picture of her, Rick, Cindy and Carl with a birthday cake. The one beside it was of Cindy and Carl with frosting all over their faces. Rick sits up and reaches into his pocket and to show Lori the photos he'd carried with him. The two from his squad car. He placed them both in the album, "They belong in here."

"Baby, I really thought I would never see you again. I'm so sorry... for everything. I feel like– when you were in the hospital I just—I wanted to take it all back—the anger and the bad times. But the mistakes..." Rick kisses her to stop her rambling. Cindy mentally rolls her eyes, 'That's one way to shut her up.' Cindy thought.

"Maybe we got a second chance. Not many people get that." Rick whispered to her, He leans down and kisses her again. She pulls out her the locket and his wedding ring circled around the chain, "I wondered where that went."

"Do you want it back?" Lori asked, her voice breaking as if she feared he would say no.

"Of course." He replied to her with a smile. Lori had always been who Rick wanted. He was devoted to her. No matter how many arguments, fights, bad memories he never, ever wanted to give up. He couldn't live without her.

Lori takes the ring off the chain and puts it on his finger. They kiss with passion, emotion. Rain pattered down onto the material of the tent. Lori reaches over and turns off the lantern. Rick looks over at Carl, checking if he's asleep.

"He won't wake up." Lori told Rick. Cindy's brows furrowed in confusion. 'Why would they be worried about that.' Seconds after that thought she realised what was going on.

"Oh, god. I'm happy for you, seriously I am but if you two are going to start screwing can you please keep it down." Cindy gagged, disgusted with very words that left her mouth. If it weren't raining she'd sleep outside.

The couple giggled at her words as Rick moves under the covers...

The next morning, Cindy woke up early, like she usually did. Lori was gone. Carl and Rick were still asleep. She got dressed and walked out of the tent. Immediately spotting Lori and the two blonde sisters and made her way over to them, "Good morning, ladies." She chirped to them, wrapping her arms around her sister-in-law.

"You're very cheerful today," Lori noted as she continued her chore of hanging up clothes on the line. Cindy released her from her hug and began helping Lori hang the recently washed clothes.

"Why shouldn't I be? I've got my whole family back." She spoke happily. She couldn't stop the smile on her face. It was like it was permanently painted on her face like a tattoo. Cindy's eyebrows scrunched up when she thought about how to approach the topic she was thinking about last night, "I was thinking, and Rick would definitely object to this but... the man we left behind..." Cindy trailed off awaiting her reaction. Lori shook her head at the girl as she threw another piece of clothing on the line.

"You want to go back?" Lori questioned the girl, Andrea, and Amy both stopped their actions when they heard this, shocked that the girl would even think about entering that city again.

"I can't leave him like that, Lori. Believe me, I know he's an asshole but if I leave him up there, what does that make me?" Cindy asked, her tone as serious as her steel features. As a marine, she protected the nation and it's people. Why should now be any different? "I spent years defending this country, protecting our people. Just because the world ended, doesn't mean I should stop." Cindy's views from a few days ago had changed. She used to think that her role in the corps meant nothing now but after leaving that man on the roof, she felt she had a duty to help him. She realised that her job mattered now more than ever.

"Ok," Lori spoke to her softly. Lori knew she couldn't force her to stay but she didn't want her to go. She just got back. She'd feel a lot better knowing she was around.

Cindy smiled and walked away towards Glenn, who she saw standing a few meters away next to the sports car. She stopped beside him, smiling until she saw the look on his face as if he were mourning then Cindy's look changed to one of concern, "What's wrong?" she asked him.

"They are going to strip it for parts." Glenn replied sadly, eyes never leaving the car. Cindy's eyebrows raised as she looked at him as if something he loved had been taken away from him. Cindy couldn't help it, she burst out laughing causing everyone, including Glenn, to look at her.

"I'm sorry, but you're mourning a car?" she spoke when she finally stopped laughing and caught her breath.

"It's a cool car," Glenn argued gesturing to the sports car in front of him.

"I agree it's cool, but it's a car." She said, highlighting the word 'car' to illustrate her point.

"I know, but it was cool," he repeated, Cindy shook her head and walked away towards the woman who was sitting at the smaller fire the night before.

"Hey, I'm Cindy," she introduced to the woman with a smile.

"Carol, and this is my daughter, Sophia," she replied, her smile mirroring Cindy's. Sophia however, shrunk further into her seat. Poor thing looked terrified.

Cindy smiled at the young girl and made sure not to startle her, "Do you need any help," Cindy asked the older woman.

Carol smiled at the young girl, "That would be great, thank you,"

"No problem, I'm just going to get Rick's clothes. I know for a fact they need washing," Cindy replied, gaining a laugh from Carol.

Cindy went into the tent where Carl was wide awake, "Should I wake him up?" Carl asked, gesturing to Rick. Cindy shook her head.

"Nah, he needs his rest. Old people tend to sleep more." Cindy joked as she looked around the tent for her brother's bloody garments. Spotting them on the floor she picked them up and stepped out of the tent, Carl giggled as he followed her.

Carl immediately went to play with Sophia. Cindy smiled at the sight. Despite everything going on, they could still act like children. Sure there were restrictions but they looked happy.

She held up the shirt to Carol, "It's supposed to be white," she told her. Carol giggled at the sight of the shirt that was stained with blood, "This'll take some time to clean, maybe I should charge a labour fee," Cindy joked, gaining a smile from Carol.

About an hour later, Rick stepped out of the Grimes' tent, fresh clothes and well rested. He walked around camp, greeting members as he passed them. He noticed Cindy next to Carol who was pressing his shirt that Cindy had managed to get clean, "Morning," Carol greeted Rick as he approached.

"Morning," he replied with a small nod of his head.

"Morning brother," his sister greeted him to which he responded with a hug.

"They're still a little damp. The sun'll have them dry in no time," Carol informed him, looking up from the ironing board for just a second before returning to her chore.

"You washed my clothes?" Rick asked her, his voice full of amazement. Surprised someone would take the time to do that for someone they barely knew.

"Well, best we could. Scrubbing on a washboard ain't half as good as my old Maytag back home," she tells Rick. Saying that, her mind started list all the other things she missed. She shook her thoughts away and focused on the new members. Especially the girl she had recently befriended, "Your sister helped. Would have taken twice as long without my assistant." She joked, 'That's the first time I've joked in a long time.' She thought to herself. She smiled when she realised that the girl beside her had made her feel like the old her. The one with so much happiness and joy to spread, the one who could joke and laugh, the one who was free.

"That's very kind, thank you," Rick told her with a smile, Rick was very grateful for her to make the effort to iron his clothes for him.

The clanging of tools can be heard from behind Cindy and Carol. Dale and Jim were still in the process of tearing the red car apart. Using it for fuel and additional things that the other vehicles may require.

Rick made his way over to Glenn and the car. Glenn hadn't moved from the spot Cindy left him for over an hour, "Look at 'em. Vultures. Yeah, go on, strip it clean." Glenn said disappointment in is voice.

"Generators need every drop of fuel they can get. Got no power without it. Sorry, Glenn." Dale apologised to him.

"Thought I'd get to drive it at least a few more days," Glenn whispered to Rick.

"Maybe we'll get to steal another one someday," Rick said to him as he patted him on the back and walked over to where Lori is hanging clothes on the line.

"Morning, officer," she said with a small smile as he approached.

"Hey." he replied, Andrea and Amy were still there helping Lori with the newly washed clothes, they share a smile as they watched the couple that so obviously loved each other.

"You sleep okay?" she asked him as she folded another piece of clothing.

"Better than in a long time." Rick replied to her, she chuckled, never once deviating from her task.

"Well, I didn't want to wake you. I figured you could use it," Lori stated. Rick didn't respond he just looked at her, wondering how he was going to tell her about what he was thinking, "God, what?" she asked, when she noticed there was something on his mind.

"I've been thinking about the man we left behind." Rick told her, Lori's smile falls as the words left his mouth.

"You're not serious." Lori asked, hoping that he'd say that he wasn't but she knew that wasn't the case, she began to chuckle slightly. Rick just looks at her, confused, "Like two peas in a pod," she told Andrea and Amy. Rick's confusion only grew larger when she said that. As if reading his mind, Lori answered his question, "Cindy was thinking the same thing about an hour ago,"

A car approaches the camp and the conversation is temporarily paused when Shane gets out of his jeep, "Water's here, y'all. Just a reminder to boil before use." Shane nods to Rick who nods back in response.

Rick turned back to Lori, "Are you asking me or telling me?" she asked as she continued to fold clothes.

"Asking," Rick replied simply.

"Well, I think it's crazy. I think it is just the stupidest way to break your son's—" Lori began to tell him but was cut off by a woman's piercing scream.

"Mom!" Carl's voice echoed through the trees, Cindy immediately sped into the woods towards the sound of her nephew's calls. Lori, Rick, Shane and a few other's followed quickly after.

"Carl?" Lori called as she ran quickly through the woods. Shane runs toward Carl, shotgun in hand.

"Dad!" Carl's screams became more frequent as his fear increased, "Cindy!"

"Baby!" Lori cried, hoping to god nothing happens to her little boy. Lori ran through the trees, dodging obstacles calling her son's name.

"Mama! Mommy!" Came the sound of a girl's cry. Possibly Sophia. Her and Carl were playing together earlier. Maybe they strayed too far from camp.

"It's okay. I got him. I got him." Jacqui reassured when they finally found them.

Lori crouched down in front of Carl, checking him for injuries, "Nothing bit you? Nothing scratched you?" Lori asked him frantically. When she found nothing, she sighed in relief and pulled him into a hug.

The group came to a clearing where they saw a walker chewing on a deer, the deer had arrows embedded in it. The group circled the deer drawing the walker's attention to them. It began to rise to it's feet and turned towards Rick. It growled and lunged at him. Rick held up his spear whacks the walker with his spear. The walker keeps attempted to get up so Morales, Glenn, Rick, Jim and Dale continue to hit it like it was a piñata.

Cindy rolled her eyes and pushed Rick and Morales aside. She swung her bat at it's legs knocking it over on it's hands and knees. Cindy nodded to Dale, signalling him swing the axe in his hand. Dale swung the axe and sliced the walker's head clean off.

Everyone looked at the woman a little shocked, she looked around at their faces and confusion fell onto hers, "What? Were you waiting for it to spit out candy?" she asked, gesturing to the corpse that lay at her feet. Everyone stayed silent for a moment.

Dale broke the silence, worry in his tone when he looked at the dead walker, "It's the first one we've had up here. They never come this far up the mountain,"

"Well, they're running out of food in the city, that's what," Jim stated, the sound of a branch snapping and rustling bushes put the group on high alert. Cindy edged closer to the sound, her hands twisting around her bat. Shane came to stand beside her, shotgun at the ready.

A man with a crossbow appeared from behind a tree and Shane immediately put his shotgun down, "Oh, Jesus," Shane grumbled to himself. Cindy lowered he bat slightly but not completely. Yeah Shane put his weapon down but still, Cindy remained on her guard. The man looked down at the deer that had been chewed on by the walker and it angered him.

"Son of a bitch. That's my deer! Look at it all gnawed on by this," he groaned as he started to kick the walker, "Filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!"

"Calm down, son. That's not helping," Dale said, which angered him more, he paced towards the older man.

"What do you know about it, old man? Why don't you take that stupid hat and go back to "on golden pond"?" the man teased him getting up in his face. Cindy placed her hand on Dale's shoulder and guided him back and wedged herself between the two.

"Daryl Dixon, I assume," She speculated as she looked at him.

The man then looked down at the young woman and glared at her, "Who the hell are you?"

Cindy never shifted her gaze, "I'm someone you want as an ally not an enemy." She responded. Daryl just laughs at her. To him she's just a little girl trying to act tough, but she doesn't shift eye contact, "You don't touch him. You hear? Or anyone else. It's about time you grow the fuck up and change your attitude."

"No one has ever spoken to me like that!" he growled, pointing his finger at her, stepping closer to tower over her, trying to be intimidating, she's handled worse, much worse. She could handle Dixon. Besides she wasn't that much smaller than him.

"Obviously someone should." She retorted, she picked up her bat placing it behind her neck resting it on both her shoulders before walking back towards camp.

The group looked at the dazed Daryl she left behind, as he watches her walk away. No one has ever spoken to him like that, especially not a little girl. Shane had a smirk hidden on his lips. Daryl shakes his head and returns his attention back to the deer, "I've been tracking this deer for miles." He told them as he yanks his arrows out of the remains of the deer. "Gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. What do you think? Do you think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?" he indicated with his arrows, leaning over to trace a line around the hole the walker had left.

"I would not risk that." Shane said, his shotgun resting behind his neck, much like Cindy's bat.

Daryl sighs as he stood upright, "That's a damn shame. I got some squirrel, about a dozen or so. That'll have to do." He told the gesturing to the squirrels hanging on his shoulder, all attached to a piece of string. The head of the walker starts snapping it's teeth.

"Oh God." Amy groaned in disgust, Andrea put her arms around her sister and guided her away

"Come on, people. What the hell?" Daryl said as he aimed his crossbow. He shoots it straight through the eye. He walked over to the head and placed his foot on it and pulls the arrow out, "It's gotta be the brain. Don't y'all know nothing?" he asked as he walked past. Rick looked at him, observing his behaviour. Trying to figure out the best way to tell him about Merle.

Shane followed behind Daryl, taking the matter into his hands as the unspoken leader of the camp. The group followed closely behind.

"Merle! Merle!" Daryl called as he made his way over to the RV, "Get your ugly ass out here! I got us some squirrel!" he placed his crossbow down against a pile of wood, "Let's stew 'em up." he said as he continued his walk towards the RV

"Daryl," Shane called, gaining Daryl's attention. Shane placed his shotgun in the front seat of his jeep, "just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you," Daryl slowed to a stop and looked at the man.

"About what?" he asked, Shane walked around him, between Daryl and the RV.

"About Merle. There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." He started, as he stopped in front of him. Daryl looked around the camp, all eyes were on him.

"He dead?" he asked, Cindy kept her eye on Daryl, watching for any signs that suggest he's going to attack. Lori stood in the doorway of the RV watching the interaction, Carl was behind her, trying to catch a glimpse of what was going on.

"We're not sure." Shane replied to him, there was no way for anyone to know for sure. No one in this camp could tell him anything different.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl yelled, his anger quickly rising at the fact he wasn't getting a straight answer.

"No easy way to say this, so I'll just say it." Rick spoke up as he walked over to Daryl and Shane. Daryl turned to him.

"Who are you?" he asked impatiently.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes," Daryl repeated mockingly, "You got something you want to tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal. He's still there." Rick told him truthfully. T-Dog came into the camp, his arms full of firewood, quickly realising what was going on. What they were talking about.

"Hold on. Let me process this. You're saying you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there?!" Daryl yelled, anger burned through him, making his blood boil.

"Yeah." Rick admitted quietly, taking the blame for T-Dog. He didn't want to rat him out.

Daryl grunted as he threw the rope of squirrels at Rick. Cindy ran towards him and extending her arm out to the side catching his neck and throwing him on the ground. T-Dog drops the firewood and steps forward, "Hey." Daryl then pulled out his knife and goes after her. "Watch the knife!" T-Dog warned the girl.

Daryl started swinging his knife. Cindy ducked under his arm, twisted it, knocking the knife out of his hand. She hooked her ankle with his and pulled it from beneath him. She then quickly ran behind him, putting him into a chokehold, "What did I just say to you" she asked him, "Huh?" she questioned, everyone around camp watched the scene, taken aback, that the girl dared to go head to head with Daryl when he was pissed and unpredictable.

"You best let me go!" he yelled at her, trying to pry her arms from around his neck.

"Nope, don't think so," she replied, gripping her arms tighter around him.

"Choke hold's illegal," Daryl protested, grunting as he continued to attempt to escape the hold.

"Well you can file a complaint. My brother's a cop." She replied sarcastically, "Although it might be a while before you hear anything." She looked up at the two "Officers" that just stood there like a couple of barbie dolls, "Either of you want to talk to him or do you want to just stand there looking pretty?" Cindy asked them, whilst still keeping a firm grip on Daryl.

Rick crouched down in front of Daryl, "I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that?" Rick got closer to him, looking him dead in the eye, "Do you think we can manage that?" Rick asked him again when he didn't reply. Rick looked up at Cindy and nodded at her, silently telling her to release him. Cindy nodded back to him and dropped Dixon on the floor.

Daryl looked up at, Rick. Panting to get his breath back, "What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work and play well with others," explaining his reason for handcuffing Merle on the roof in the first place.

"It's not Rick's fault," T-Dog spoke up, making everyone look at him, especially Daryl. Cindy shook her head at him, mouthing, 'We got this,' T-Dog smiled at the girl but he didn't want to hide from what he did. He didn't want them to take the blame for something that was his fault, "I had the key... I dropped it," he admitted to Daryl, who was still sat on the floor.

"You couldn't pick it up?" Daryl asked, confusion crossed his features, not understanding why T-Dog couldn't pick up a lousy key.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain," T-Dog added sadly, a shadow of guilt flooded onto his face.

"If it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't," Daryl said as he got up, tossing dirt and small stones that he had grasped in his hands. About to walk past him and to his tent, T-Dog's voice and next statement stopped in his tracks.

"Well, maybe this will. Look, I chained the door to the roof. So the geeks couldn't get at him...with a padlock," he told Daryl

"It's gotta count for something." Rick spoke from behind him. Daryl wipes tears out of his eyes before. 'He's not that bad, he just wants his brother,' Cindy thought. Daryl didn't come across as an asshole to her. Something deep within his eyes suggested to Cindy that he was a misunderstood, tortured soul. Something haunted him and it wasn't the world going to shit.

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is so's I can go get him." Daryl demanding and a little desperate. Anxious to get his brother back.

"They'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori asked, still leaning on the door frame of the RV. 'They?' Cindy thought. As far as she knew, she was the only one thinking about going back. Everyone looked at Rick, awaiting his reply. Cindy however looked around the group of people staring at her brother, she shook her head, 'No, don't say that you're goi-' her thoughts were cut off by Rick's voice.

"I'm going back." Rick announced, Cindy mentally groaned, she ran a hand down her face, 'Damn it, Rick' Cindy thought. Lori's face fell, she had hoped he had changed his mind but the whole confrontation with Daryl only gave him more reason to go back.

"Me too," Cindy spoke up from beside her brother. He was about to protest but Cindy held up her hand and cut him off, "No arguments, Rick. I'm going. You should stay, with Carl and Lori. I'm sure me and Daryl can handle it," she gestured to herself and the younger Dixon.

"Not a chance, if you're going, I'm going too," Rick protested, Lori, hurt and angry, climbs into the RV. Carl flops down onto the couch, upset, heartbroken that his father was leaving just a day after he got back. Not only that but is aunt was going with him.

Daryl walked over to the unlit campfire and sat down to clean his arrows. Rick made his way to the tent, "I'm just gonna get changed," He told his sister as he walked past, Cindy nodded in acknowledgement and made her way over to the fire and sat beside Daryl.

"I'm sorry we left your brother," she told him sincerely, he paused his current action to look up at her. She sent him a small smile, his gaze softened for just a moment, she would have missed it had she not been looking, "You okay?" she asked him softly.

He didn't know how to respond, how to talk to her. So he just shrugged his shoulders. She was much gentler than earlier, sensitive. It was like she truly cared about his feelings. He was silent, millions of thoughts twirling through his mind. The words that came out of his mouth shocked both himself and Cindy, "'m sorry I came at ya with a knife,"

Cindy smiled and looked to the ground, "It's understandable, you were upset. I mean, I'm pretty sure I would be if it was Rick," she said, the end of the sentence becoming a whisper.

After a few minutes Rick reappears from the tent buttoning up his uniform. Shane was waiting for him outside the tent, "So that's it, huh? You're just gonna walk off? Just to hell with everybody else?" he questioned.

"I'm not saying to hell with anybody. Not you, Shane. Lori least of all." Rick told him seriously as he walks up the hill towards the cube van.

"Tell her that." Shane called to him, Rick turns back to face Shane.

"She knows." He replied, with a raise of his eyebrows. He turned away from him and walked away, Shane following after him.

"Well, look, I-I don't, okay, Rick? So could you just- could you throw me a bone here, man? Could you just tell me why? Why would you risk your life for a douche bag like Merle Dixon?" Shane asked as they've walked up to the now cooking fire where Daryl and Cindy were waiting. Shane's choice of words didn't sit well with Daryl.

"Hey, choose your words more carefully." Daryl warned, standing up straight as he glared at Shane, angered that he had insulted his brother.

"Oh no, I did. Douche bag's what I meant," Shane said as he looked at Daryl, then back at Rick, "Merle Dixon- the guy wouldn't give you a glass of water if you were dying of thirst." He kept switching his gaze between Rick and Daryl as he spoke about Merle, glaring at Daryl as if he were the exact copy of him.

"What he would or wouldn't do doesn't interest me. I can't let a man die of thirst. Me. Thirst and exposure. We left him like an animal caught in a trap. That's no way for anything to die, let alone a human being." Rick said, continuing to explain his reasons for wanting to save Merle.

Shane still wasn't budging, he wanted to leave Merle, just as he did with the others who were trapped. So Cindy added some words of her own, "We can't just leave him there, Shane. It's not right, it's not human." Shane sighed, knowing there was nothing he could do to change their minds.

"So you two and Daryl, that's your big plan?" Lori questioned them sceptically, her eyebrows raised looking between the siblings. Rick turns and looks at Glenn with an expression silently asking him to come with them.

"Oh, come on." Glenn groaned, he didn't want to go back especially with a group after what happened last time. He took his cap off for a second to run his hand through his hair before placing it back on his head.

"Rick, no." Cindy told him, it was unfair to ask him to risk his life. Rick didn't listen, he felt he needed Glenn to guide them, he thought he'd know the safest route, hiding spots, exits.

"You know the way. You've been there before. In and out, no problem. You said so yourself. It's not fair of me to ask, I know that, but I'd feel a lot better with you along. I know she would too." He said gesturing to Lori. Glenn looks over Rick's shoulder at Lori and Carl.

"That's just great. Now you're gonna risk four men, huh?" Shane questioned, anger bubbling in his throat.

Cindy cleared her throat, holding her hand up in the air, "Woman," she said, correcting Shane's sentence.

"Five." T-Dog stepped forward, Daryl huffed, still messing with his arrows.

"My day just gets better and better, don't it?" he muttered sardonically.

"You see anybody else here stepping up to save your brother's cracker ass?" T-Dog asked as he glared at the man.

"Why you?" Daryl asked, Cindy punched him in the arm. He looked at her with a glare.

"He's just trying to help," she whispered to him.

"That's five," Dale confirmed, joining the conversation. Looking around at the five people returning to the city.

"It's not just five. You're putting every single one of us at risk. Just know that, Rick." Shane spoke sharply as he ran a hand down his face, "Come on, you saw that walker. It was here. It was in camp. They're moving out of the cities. They come back, we need every able body we've got. We need 'em here. We need 'em to protect camp."

"It seems to me what you really need most here are more guns." Rick said, hoping that it would sway Shane into accepting the group to go and save Merle.

"Right, the guns." Glenn thought aloud stepping forward to stand beside Cindy.

Shane's eyebrows jerked up in confusion, "Wait, what guns?" he looked between both Rick and Glenn awaiting their reply but another voice answered and his head snapped towards them.

"Six shotguns, two high-powered rifles, over a dozen handguns." Cindy listed, Shane looked her and then Rick when he began talking.

"We cleaned out the cage back at the station before we left. I dropped the bag in Atlanta when we got swarmed. It's just sitting there on the street, waiting to be picked up." he told Shane, trying to urge him to change his mind. His expression changed to one of interest.

"Ammo?"

"700 rounds, assorted," Rick replied, making him step back with a nod. Shane knew that those rounds would be valuable. The trip would be worthwhile for those guns.

"You went through hell to find us. you just got here and you're gonna turn around and leave?" Lori spoke up, still questioning Rick's decision to go back.

"Dad, I don't want you or Aunty Cindy to go," Carl told him quietly, Cindy looked down at her feet and nodded.

"To hell with the guns, Shane is right. Merle Dixon? He's not worth one of your lives, even with guns thrown in." Lori voiced, her voice became distressed, she stood to come face to face with Rick, "Tell me. Make me understand." She pleaded.

"I owe a debt to a man I met and his little boy." Rick told her, Lori looked down at Carl silently asking, 'What about our little boy,' Rick cut her off from her thoughts as he explained," Lori, if they hadn't taken me in, I'd have died. It's because of them that I made it back to you at all."

"They took me in too. The initial outbreak which," Cindy spoke up, pausing to look around the group, "I'm sure we all remember. Panic, people running in every direction. There was loads of them. It was a bloodbath, they didn't have to take me in but they did."

"They said they'd follow us to Atlanta. They'll walk into the same trap we did if we don't warn them." Rick added, trying to explain to her why the bag of guns meant so much to him. He couldn't turn his back on Morgan, neither could Cindy. She may have gone on all the supply runs and risked her life for them but they gave her something more valuable. They gave her a reason to keep fighting. Something worth fighting for.

"What's stopping you?" she asked him softly, looking to the ground for a second then back at Rick for his reply.

"The walkie-talkie, the one in the bag I dropped. He's got the other one. Our plan was to connect when they got closer," he explained, she was starting to understand a little why Rick had to go back.

"These our walkies?" Shane asked from behind Rick. He had now sat down on the bumper on his jeep. Rick turned his head a little to the side but kept Lori in the corner of his eye.

"Yeah," Rick replied.

"So use the C.B. what's wrong with that?" Andrea asked, trying to help find a way for him to communicate without having to risk his life in the city. She knew exactly what it was like there, having her close call just the day before.

"The C.B's fine. It's the walkies that suck to crap. Date back to the 70's don't match any other bandwidth. Not even the scanners in our cars," Shane explained in a way that the people in camp would understand.

"I need that bag," Rick whispered to her, tilting his head silently begging her to understand. Lori didn't respond, just looked at the ground, defeated. Rick walked around Lori and crouched down in front of Carl, "Okay?" he smiled in return and nodded. He looked up at Cindy who smiled back at him. Everyone stood up and got ready to leave.

Glenn got into the cube van and turned it around, reversing back up the track. Rick and T-Dog make their way over to Dale, beside his RV, "Rumour is you have bolt cutters," Rick stated as he come to a stop.

"Maybe," Dale replied loosely. Not liking where this conversation was going.

"Yeah, we get to that roof, we'll need to cut that chain and the handcuffs." T-Dog explained to him. Daryl paced around in the cube van, impatiently waiting for the others to climb in.

"I never like lending tools, last time I did," Dale looked at T-Dog and pointed at him, "And yes, I am talking about you. Let's just say your bag of guns wasn't the only bag that was dropped. My tools got left behind. With Merle." He told Rick, obviously upset with the loss. Daryl paused his pacing and glared at the older man, who seemed to care more about tools than the life of his brother.

In the corner of her eye Cindy saw Shane. He gestured for her to come over, she nodded and held up her index finger, "I'll be back in a sec," she whispered to her brother. Rick nodded in return and Cindy made her way over to Shane.

"You sure about this, Cinderella?" he asked her, looking for any uncertainty in her features. She nodded with a laugh.

"Yes, Shane. I'm sure. I'd probably be dead if it weren't for Morgan. Duane reminded me of Carl, so full of life." She smiled as she remembered her new friends. Her smile slowly fell when she started to think about how she wished they were here, where she could protect them.

"Cindy, I'm so sorry I left yo-" Cindy shook her head and cut him off.

"I'm glad you did. I was afraid I'd find your body when I went back to Rick's room..."

—Flashback— (1 Month, 17 days ago)

Wednesday 15th September 2010

"Afternoon Cara," Cindy greeted the receptionist as her and Shane walked through the front door of the hospital.

"Afternoon Cindy, officer," she greeted back with a cheery smile.

"Afternoon beautiful," Shane flirted, causing both Cindy and Cara to roll their eyes. She grabbed Shane's arm and pulled him away, she mouthed a 'Thank you.' causing Cindy to giggle, "Hey, I was talking to Carla," Cindy scowled at Shane for using the wrong name.

"Her name is Car-a." Cindy stretched out the name slowly, trying to get it into his head, she dropped his arm and continued towards her brother's room, "Besides, you're not her type."

"Oh yeah? What is her type then?" Shane challenged. Cindy knew what Shane was like. Never had a girlfriend more than a month, apart from Patricia. She knew he would hurt her, break her heart. Cindy was friends with Cara's older brother. Had been since they were very young. In a way, Cara was her baby sister too. So naturally, she wanted to protect her. Cindy liked Shane but sometimes he was a real asshole.

"I don't know, someone with a brain," she remarked with a shrug of her shoulder as she turned a corner and began to walk down the corridor.

"Actually, I think you'll find that I'm very intelligent. Maybe smarter than you," he argued, following closer behind her. Cindy stopped on the spot and turned to look at Shane with her arms crossed.

"Really?" she asked, her eyes glowing with amusement. Shane's smirk matched Cindy's as he nodded at her, she scoffed, "And I'm the queen of Mars," she remarked as she continued walking down the corridor.

Shane followed after her, "You heard about the biters?" he asked her.

"Yeah, on the news. Said that people were getting bitten by other people," she shook her head at the thought. Why would you bite someone. That's just weird.

"Don, got bit. On the neck," Shane told her, Cindy's eyes widened as she looked at him.

"Is he okay?" she asked. Concerned about the man that her brother had worked beside for many years.

Shane shook his head at her, "Got him good. Died from blood loss in less than a minute," he told her, his voice low. His mind running back through the events of the day, wondering whether he could have done something to save him.

"Something strange is happening. It's big, whatever it is," Cindy spoke, voicing her opinion. She knew something was happening. Hundreds of people are getting bitten by others. Why? No one seems to know. Or at least no one is telling the public. They soon came to Rick's door. Cindy entered first, holding the door open for Shane.

"Thank you, princess."

Cindy rolled her eyes at the nickname, "I was raised to respect my elders." She joked back, her smirk making its way back onto her face.

"Hey, I'm not old." Shane groaned as he sat down in the seat beside Rick's bed. He took out his phone and started texting, presumably Lori, telling her that he and Cindy had arrived at the hospital.

Cindy walked over to the other side of the bed, taking her brother's hand in hers, "Hey Ricky." She grazed her thumb over the top of his hand and smiled at him, she leaned forward to whisper, "You have to come back. Shane is annoying me, so much I wanna shoot him,"

"I heard that," Shane spoke from his seat not looking up from his phone. Cindy sat up straight and looked at him.

"You were supposed to," she shot back at him. Shane raised his eyebrows as he looked up at the girl. He put his phone away in his pocket.

Shane reached into his back pocket and pulled out some money and handed it to her, "What's this for?"

"It's your turn to make the coffee run and you clearly need some." Shane replied, Cindy groaned, throwing her head back.

"I'll be back in a bit," she told him as she walked out the door. She made her way back towards the canteen near the entrance.

She walked down the corridor, nodding and saying 'hello' to those she passed. It didn't take her long to reach the canteen and get into the queue. The canteen was almost full, mostly nurses on their lunch break and others were visiting their loved ones. Cindy absentmindedly looked around at her surroundings when she spotted multiple military vehicles parked outside. Armed soldiers jumping out and wasting no time entering the hospital. Her eyes widened when they raised their guns and began shooting at everyone.

She instinctively rushed to take cover. She was scared. Her, a marine, was terrified. The military were supposed to protect these people, why the fuck were they shooting them.

"Remember the mission. Shoot everyone. Don't let no one leave." A man's voice spoke. A chorus of 'yes sir.' followed shortly after and footsteps scattered away. Cindy grabbed her phone and texted Shane.

'Get the fuck out of here. The military are shooting everyone.'

'Nice try, princess.' came his reply. She screwed her hand into a fist and then typed back furiously.

'Shane I'm serious.'

Cindy inwardly growled in annoyance when no reply came. Why can't that man just listen for once? Cindy knew she had to get back to Rick's room fast but quietly. She couldn't risk getting killed, for whatever reason, the military were executing people. She had heard about a virus causing the infected to become aggressive and bite people and the numbers kept increasing.

Smoke floated in the air around her, as she crawled from her cover. She crept towards the receptionist's desk at the entrance. Looking for Cara, hoping she was okay but when she reached the desk she found her lying on the floor, bleeding out, "Cara," she slide beside her, placing her head in her lap.

"I hurt," she cried, tears of pain, fear travelled down her cheeks. Cindy nodded in understanding. She had been shot a couple of times, not pleasant.

"Shh, you're gonna be fine," she comforted her. Truth was, she knew she wouldn't be. She couldn't exactly call for help, she'd get killed. She didn't know what to do. So she just stayed beside her, running her hand through her hair, "You'll be okay," she repeated.

Cara held up her arm, starting to fiddle with her bracelet, soon enough the bracelet was in her hand. She grabbed Cindy's hand and placed the bracelet in her palm, "T-to remember me," she trembled. Cindy looked at the jewellery in her hand. It was the bracelet she had given her as a graduation present.

"Do you think I'd ever forget you? We spray painted Shane's car. Remember? Turned it pink?" Cindy giggled, shortly joined by Cara, "You just think about that, Shane's face when he found his car," Cindy continued to run her hand through Cara's hair, trying to relax her as best she could. Cara closed her eyes and visualised the day that Shane found his car covered in yellow spray paint. A genuine happy smile appeared on her face as she did.

It wasn't long before Cara stopped breathing. Tears poured down Cindy's face, as she held the young, lifeless body. The girl she had known most of her life, just died in her arms. Cindy placed her forehead against Cara's, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," she whimpered, she kissed her forehead and gently lay her down on the ground. Cindy clasps the bracelet around her wrist, glancing at Cara one last time. She wiped her eyes and looked around her. She had to get to Shane.

At the sight of no one around, no one alive that is. She stood up slowly, keeping an eye on every direction. She can hear gunshots and screaming coming from the direction of Rick's room. She took a deep breath and began down the corridor.

Halfway down the corridor she noticed a group of people running towards the exit, rushing past her. Running for their lives. She continued down the corridor, keeping an eye on every door she went past. She stopped when she heard someone barking orders up ahead, seeing a group of soldiers she quickly ducked into a room. Where she found a man munching on a woman, "What the hell?" she asked aloud, causing the man to look at her. His eyes were grey, dead. He growled and stumbled towards her. Cindy instinctively backed away from him. She asked him to stay back multiple times but he kept coming at her, he grabbed her arms pulling her towards him, his mouth aiming for her throat. 'He ain't going to stop.' She thought to herself. She grabbed her knife and rammed it into his skull. His body dropped to the white floor. "What the fuck just happened?" she asked herself. Unsure if that just happened or if she had imagined it. She looked at the monitor next to the woman and there were no signs of life.

"The biters," she whispered. Everywhere around the world there have been reports of people biting people. She had almost got bitten. Some broadcasts even spoke of people coming back from the dead. Cindy, however, thought that was a load of crap. But then again. The guy who just tried to eat her looked dead, smelt it too. Could it be true?

If so she had to be careful. They turned somehow. She poked her head slightly out the door. Scanning the corridor. A groan come from behind her. Her breath hitched in her throat as she whipped her head round. The woman was alive. Cindy scrunched her eyebrows and cautiously stepped towards the woman. She was still on the bed, "Ma'am? Are you... are you alright?" she asked, Cindy mentally facepalmed at her question 'Of course she isn't alright, you idiot. She was chewed on by this freak.' The woman didn't reply just looked at her with the same dead eyes as the man who tried to bite her.

Cindy's eyes widened, 'It is true. She's dead.' she looked down at the man she had killed not too long ago. She nodded to herself and walked towards the woman, knife at the ready, "I'm sorry," she whispered before pushing the knife through her forehead.

She pulled the knife back out and headed towards the door, she still had to find Shane. She understood now why the military were here. They must think it's airborne. She reopened the door and slid out, back into the corridor, continuing her journey towards Rick's room.

She got to Rick's room with no more trouble to see a hospital bed in front of it. She moved it out the way and entered her brother's room. He looked the same as he did before. Thank god. She sighed, she had to get out of there. Cindy felt as if there was a chance that Rick could wake up, so she wrote him a note and left it on the side table.

She kissed his forehead before leaving. She had to get back to the house and fast. She never saw Shane on the way out. Relief washed over her as she exited the hospital doors, she quickened her pace. Seeing two soldiers by the trucks, she carefully tiptoed around them. She began to run as soon as she was out of their range.

—Present Day—

"I'm glad I didn't find your stupid ass on the floor," Cindy told him with a smirk.

"I'm glad I didn't find you dead too. Even though you are rude to me," he replied, his face mirroring Cindy's for a moment before his expression turned serious, "Be safe, yeah?" Cindy smiled and nodded.

"I will. I'll bring them all back," she promised him, looking at the group who were getting ready to leave. Cindy had always been like a little sister to Shane. They'd bicker, pull tricks on each other and just annoy the shit out of each other.

Shane opened his mouth to say something but was cut off by the sound of a horn blasting, "Come on let's go!" Daryl shouted catching the attention of T-Dog and Rick who were still talking to Dale.

Cindy smiled at Shane, she turned around to head over to the van when a small hand stopped her. She looked down to see Carl looking up at her, "Hey, little man. You okay?" she asked him, he look up at her with sad eyes.

"Will you come back?" he questioned in a small, sad voice. He looked scared, probably thinking that something might happen to Rick and Cindy. Cindy crouched down to his level, taking his hands in hers.

"Yes we will. Safe and sound," she told him, her voice soft but serious.

"Promise?" he asked, his bottom lip beginning to quiver.

Cindy nodded and held out her pinkie to him, he clasped his pinkie around hers, "I pinkie promise your daddy will come back," she promised. This made Carl feel a lot better, Cindy never ever broke a pinkie promise. Carl threw his arms around Cindy's shoulders and hugged her tightly.

"Cindy, you ready?" Rick called from beside the van. Cindy nodded as she stood up, ruffling Carl's hair.

"Be back soon, little man," she told him as she walked away towards the group waiting for her. She reached the back of the truck, about to climb in when a hand reached down to help her. She looked up and saw the younger Dixon standing over her. She smiled and grabbed his hand. He helped her up into the truck and then returned to his seat, "What a gentleman," she joked as she looked behind her back to Carl. He was still crying. Cindy shook her head at him and held up her pinkie. Carl smiled and held up his as well.

"Hey Rick," Shane called, coming to stand beside him at the back of the van, placing his bag on the edge of the van, "Got any rounds in the python?" he asked

"No," Rick replied, he used all of his bullets in the city yesterday.

"Last time we were on the gun range, I'm sure I wound up with a few loose rounds of yours," Shane told him as he sifted through his bag.

"You and that bag, like the bottom of an old lady's purse," Rick joked as he waited for Shane to finish his hunt through his bag. Shane chuckles at his friend's joke.

Shane pauses his task his face turning serious, "I hate that you're doing this, man. I think that it's foolish and reckless but if you're gonna go, you're taking bullets."

"I'm not sure I'd want to fire a shot in the city. Not after what happened last time." Rick told him, mind rewinding back to the events of yesterday.

"That's up to you. Well... five men five rounds," Shane said as he held the bullets in the palm of his hand, "What are the odds, huh?"

"Woman!" Cindy called from above Shane and her brother. Shane looked up at the girl.

"Well, I don't have any pink ones." Shane told the girl, who in return flipped him off and turned to sit down, "Let's just hope five is your lucky number, okay?" he finished, dropping the rounds in Rick's palm.

"Thank you." Rick told him. He walks away and gets into the passenger seat. Loading his python with the bullets Shane had given him. Daryl closes the sliding door as Glenn starts the truck and drives away. The survivors watch as the van leaves the camp.

Lori walks into the Grimes' tent to find Carl lying on his bed. She's trying to keep her tears at bay. For Carl. The thought of her husband and sister-in-law risking their lives scared her. She should be used to it with their past jobs but it feels different now. There were more risks now, more dangerous scenarios.

"Hey." she began, sniffling as she spoke. She sat down beside Carl's bed and continued, "You know, I bet they'll be just fine."

"I'm not worried." His small voice told her, "Are you?"

"Yeah, a little." She admitted.

"Don't be." He told her calmly.

"Why?" she asked, wondering how her son could be so calm about this.

"Think about it, Mom. Everything that's happened to dad so far; nothing's killed him yet and aunty Cindy won't let anything happen to him. She promised." Lori chuckles, her tears ceasing to fall. She takes Carl's hand and thinks about what he had just told her. Thoughts still swirled around her head 'I hope you're right baby boy,' Lori didn't know whether she could handle losing Rick again.

In Atlanta, Glenn pulls the cube van up along some railroad tracks.

"He'd better be okay. It's my only word on the matter," Daryl threatened, his eyes glued on T-Dog.

"I told you the geeks can't get at him. The only thing that's gonna get through that door is us." T-Dog told him. Cindy rolled her eyes.

"Would you two stop?" Cindy snapped causing both men to look at her, "We all need to be focused if we are going to survive this. Cus if not, you may as well just kill each other right now. It'll be less painful." What she said was true. If they didn't work together they would fail and failure resulted in death.

The brakes squeak as Glenn pulls to a stop, "We walk from here," he told them. Looking at each face in the van. They all exit the van and follow the tracks into Atlanta.

Cindy rushed to the front of the group, "Stay close and stay quiet,"

"Who put you in charge?" Daryl asked rudely. Cindy stopped in her tracks and walked straight up to him. She was not going to stand for his snarky comments while they were risking their lives for his brother. They needed to work together, they needed to be on their guard. They needed to not get killed.

"How many stealth missions have you commanded, huh, tough guy?" she asked him, getting into his face. He didn't respond to her. In fact the whole group were silently watching her, "I didn't think so. 37. We do this by working as a team. If you go rogue, I will knock your ass out and drag you back to camp," she looks around the group and continues towards the city, "Come on, let's go,"

They came to a stop by a fence, they cut open the fence and stepped through, Rick turned to Glenn, "Merle first or guns?" he asked. Before Glenn could answer, Daryl butted in.

"Merle! We ain't even having this conversation," he shouted at Rick. Cindy glared at him to which he responded with a roll of his eyes.

"Glenn knows the city better than anyone, it's his call," Cindy told him, she turned her head to look at younger man, "Glenn?"

"Merle's closest. The guns would mean doubling back," Glenn told them as he lead them through the city to the department store.

"Merle's first then," Cindy stated as she followed Glenn, keeping as close to him as she could so she could protect him if anything attacked.

As they entered the store, Rick and Cindy walked up in front. Ready to take out any walkers that may remain in the store. Rick looked at Daryl and nodded towards the walker, silently telling him to take it out. Daryl crept up, stopping in front of it and raising his crossbow, her looked at her as she growled at him, "Damn... you are one ugly skank," he insulted her just seconds before releasing and arrow into her forehead. She fell to the floor with a thump that echoed around the store.

Daryl walked up to the now dead walker, ripping his arrow from it's head. Blood and slices of brain clung onto it, he wiped it on his pants and took off towards the stairs. There were no walkers when they made it to the door, to which they were relieved. T-Dog cut the chain on the door and Daryl wasted no time kicking the door open. They all rushed out onto the roof, "Merle! Merle!" Daryl shouted as he ran across the roof, in search of Merle. But all he found was Dale's hacksaw, drenched with blood. Handcuff still dangling from the pipe. Below it a hand sat in a puddle of blood. Merle's hand.

Daryl was in tears, pacing backwards and forwards but his eyes never leaving the chain or the hand, "No! No! No!" he cried. Cindy looked to the ground, guilt tearing through her like a knife as she looked at what was left of the man that she had left behind. There were very few things that could make Daryl cry and this was one of them. Losing the only person he had left in the world. His brother...

Masterlist <Previous Chapter

#the walking dead #fanfiction #fanfic #rick grimes sister #season 1 #episode 3 #tell it to the frogs #original female character

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