You collect items from significant points during the apocalypse.
TW: mention of suicidal thoughts and description of gore under the cut!
The first thing you ever collected was a pebble. It was the smoothest pebble you had ever seen, its shape so symmetrical you felt a compulsion to slide it into your pocket to treasure forever. It became a comfort to stroke it’s smooth surface, to calm your racing heart whenever you were nervous. It reminded you of a time when all of this had begun, and you were alone until he sat besides you.
There was a slight chill in the air. You tugged your jumper closer to your chest, trying to ignore the shiver that ran down your spine. From here you could smell the acidic smoke drifting from the fire at camp; you couldn’t face them today. They were all laughing, chatting mindlessly as if they weren’t plagued with nightmares over what had transpired over the past few weeks. Nearly everyone sitting around that campfire had someone from their life before, someone they could trust and confide in, and those that didn’t had settled in so well it’s like they’d always been there.
You had no one.
You never settled in or found an old friend or family member by the craziest of coincidences. Just like always you could only rely on yourself. Sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes when the memories of blood and gore become too much your body craves the familiar comfort of being pulled into an embrace, the weight of their body against yours enough to distract you for a precious few minutes. Here though? No one here had the power to do that, the fleeting touches of strangers only adding to your anxiety and not soothing.
Swallowing the lump in your throat, you rested your hands behind you, feeling the pinch of the pebbles beneath as you looked up at the night sky. If there was one perk of the end of the world, it would be the way the stars shone so bright. Up there, there were galaxies and civilisations that you could only dream of. You weren’t even looking up at the stars in real time, the light taking so long to reach earth that you were a mere observer to history by simply looking up. You felt like those stars. Caught up in the past and trying to focus on the present, and failing miserably.
“Hey.” A voice broke you out of your stupor. You jumped, spinning around to have your heart rate calm when you realised it was Glenn. He was one of those that had arrived at the camp alone, his friendly nature allowing him to integrate into the group dynamic with ease. You envied him for that.
Meekly, you responded. “Hi.”
“You should come by the fire, it’s chilly out tonight.” You noticed how Glenn was shuffling on his feet, gesturing a hand behind him to the fire.
“I’m fine.” Your body took that moment to betray you. A visible shiver rocked your body.
“Okay… just know we’re here if you need us.” You heard the faintest of sounds, almost like a zipper being undone. A soft fabric fell into your lap. It smelt strongly of Glenn. You looked up at him; he merely shrugged.
This act of kindness brought a thin sheen to your eyes. This interaction was the first in a long time to remind you of what it was like to have a connection to someone, and for the briefest of blips, you were able to live in the present. Before you could help it, the words fell out of your mouth. “Stay.”
“Are you sure?”
A weak smile curved onto your lips. You had isolated yourself from the group, terrified of reliving the pain of the past, but in doing so you made yourself even more miserable. Maybe you did need a friend. “Just because I’m alone doesn’t mean I have to be lonely.”
He walked towards you. He stood close enough you could feel his body heat: you relished in it, feeling it warm your cold bones. “You’re not alone, you have us.”
His presence was slowly warming both your body and soul. For the first time since arriving at the quarry, you felt included.
As you’d patted the ground beside you, your hand fell on the pebble.
The second thing you collected was the tiniest, most delicate of feathers. It was a muted brown, having fallen off a chicken at Maggie’s farm. It had begun to fray with time yet you still held onto it as if it was made of gold.
You stood by the chickens and the hens, watching them chirp with a distant smile on your face. They reminded you of before.
“Would you like to feed them?” Maggie’s voice interrupted your day dream. You jumped five feet into the air. “Sorry, I just noticed you watching them. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”
You nodded.
“Let me grab you some chicken feed, I’ll be right back.” Maggie dipped away from your line of sight. You returned to gazing at the chickens with a lazy smile on your face.
Maggie came back quickly, two baskets in hand. She passed you one, showing you to spread the feed near the chickens. You fell into a pattern of sharing the feed, enjoying the joyful clucks the chickens made.
“Can I ask you a question?” You nodded your head. “Your friends with Glenn, right?”
You thought back on your memories of him. Sitting under the stars at the quarry to help you feel more relaxed, him saving your life as a walker was about to rip into you when the camp was overrun, and how he comforted you when the incessant beeping of the timer attacked you at the CDC. As a group you had all been through a lot; Glenn was always there. He sensed your nervousness, your fear, and he could make it melt away with just a funny comment or a smile. Friend felt like a strange term to use for someone you classed as family.
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Why is he such a prick?”
You froze, frowning. “He’s one of the kindest people I know.”
“Nice people can be pricks too.”
“Has something gone on?” Maggie stayed silent, her gaze fixed onto the chickens. You sighed. “He might have done a prick-ish thing, whatever it is, but I can tell you he is not a prick.”
“Good to know.”
“Do you like him?”
“Excuse me?”
“I see the way you look at him, Maggie, it’s kind of obvious.”
“Of course I like him. Why does it matter to you?”
“Because if you do, I need to give the "you ever hurt my friend” speech.“
"Save your breath.”
Maggie turned to leave, you placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. “What you two have is good. Please don’t throw it away.”
She left. As odd as it sounded, it was nice to be involved in a drama that didn’t involve walkers or blood shed.
You stayed by the chickens for a while, thriving in the normality of it all. The farm felt like it was frozen in time, taken from before things truly hit the fan. The chickens were clucking happily amongst themselves.
You felt a presence move besides you. From the corner of your eye you saw Glenn leaning against the chicken coup, looking down. Something was dripping off of his jaw.
“I’ve fucked up.” Glenn whispered, head bowed low.
Concern flooded you. The chickens long forgotten, you turned to focus all of your attention on Glenn, unable to hold back your gasp. His hat was damp, and what you had mistaken as sweat was a yellow liquid slipping down his face.
“What the hell happened?” You took his face in your hands, swiping the liquid away with a thumb. He shied away from your touch.
“Maggie cracked an egg on my head.” You opened your mouth to protest; before you could, he interrupted you. “I deserved it.”
“Is everything okay between you two?”
Glenn took a deep breath, setting his jaw. “I saw something I shouldn’t and now I’m worried for the group. For all of us.”
“I’m assuming it has to do with Maggie?”
“I saw her family, Y/N. I saw her brother and…”
“Aren’t they dead?” Glenn made no effort to confirm what you knew. The pieces started to fall into place as you realised Glenn was trying to tell you that the Greene family were hiding walkers on the very farm you took refuge on. As much as you wanted to be angry, you couldn’t help the squeeze of your heart. Having lost all of your family in the early days, you could relate. You imagined this was them holding onto hope for a cure.
Reaching out, you squeezed Glenn’s shoulder reassuringly. “What are you going to do?”
“What do you think I should do?” He was looking at you as if you held all of the answers. Since you two had become friends, you couldn’t remember a single time he had asked for your help. He was smart and resourceful, seeming to know everything. As much as you wanted to help him, all you could do was shake your head.
“Glenn…That’s not my choice to make.”
“You’re not going to tell anyone?”
“Only if you don’t want me to.”
Glenn seemed to sag in relief. In a voice so small you had to strain to hear him over the chickens, he confided. “I don’t know what to do.”
“No matter what, I support your decision.” You bumped him with your hip. “I think you definitely need to shower.”
“Yeah, no kidding.” Glenn took his hat off of his head, spinning it around in his hands. “My hats ruined, isn’t it?”
“We can get you a new one.”
“No… I think I’ve grown out of it.”
You took the hat from his hands, turning it around. A glimpse of brown caught your attention. You inspected it further, making out the tiniest of quills. A small laugh slipped past your lips.
As delicately as you could, you pulled the feather out of the hat.
The third item you collected was a torn page of a book. It looked like it had been from a self help book, the advice cut off as the page ended. There was one line underlined three times in pencil.
Glenn lingered by the cell door, rapping his hands against the iron railings. You turned your head towards him, a tired smile on your lips.
“What?”
“Wanna help clear the fence?” A spare knife was already in his hand, outreached towards you. Groaning, you threw your head against the pillow.
“I’m guessing that’s not a suggestion.”
“It’s pretty bad out there and I need company.”
“Ugh,” you climbed out of the bed, moving out of the cell. You jokingly knocked his shoulder with yours. “You owe me.”
“Yeah, sure.” He rolled his eyes, pushing your arm and sending a teasing smile your way.
“Is there a reason you’re asking me and not your girlfriend?”
“I miss my best friend.”
His words made your heart warm. While it had taken you some time to settle into the group like you had once envied him for, you were closest to Glenn. He had supported you, and you had supported him, more times than you could count. “Aw, I’m your best friend?”
“Well, there’s not exactly a lot of choice.”
Mocking offence, you kicked the back of his leg. He slightly tripped, turning around to give you a playful glare. “Oh fuck off.”
His words played on your mind as you methodically drove the knife into the walkers, watching them drop to the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. It was the first time he had admitted out loud that he was your best friend, and all you had done was hit him. While it was something you both knew, it felt different hearing the words proclaimed out loud. Oh god, you thought to yourself, I’m a terrible friend.
“Glenn?”
“Hm?”
“You’re my best friend too.”
“Really?” He said breathlessly, pausing from killing the walkers. He was turned towards you and now you could feel the nerves bubbling in your gut. You had convinced yourself you wanted to tell him everything, and now your anxiety was sky high. Before you could think too much into it, you started to speak.
“Yeah, really. No one else tried as hard as you to help me fit in. I never told you, but at the CDC… I thought about it. For a split second I wanted to stay in that room with Jacqui and Jenner. The dead were walking, my family were dead or nowhere to be found and everything I knew had been turned upside down. But then you held me as I cried, and you fought to get out. I realised I had to get out for you.”
“I… I never knew that.”
Your head was bowed, words almost lost to the groans of the walkers. “I was ashamed.”
“There’s no shame in wanting to give up.” Glenn wiped the sweat from his brow. He turned to face you, his face the most serious you had ever seen it. “You got back up, Y/N. I’m proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you too.”
Glenn reached towards you, wrapping you into a hug. You were enveloped in the scent of sweat and dirt but it was his scent. He held you so tightly you could feel the imprint of Hershel’s watch pressing into your hip but you didn’t care.
A loud animalistic growl made you both jump. Pulling out of the embrace, you both resumed trying to clear the fence. Time seemed to fly by as your arms grew steadily more tired and your back felt as if it was burning under the Georgian heat. The grip you had on the knife was slick. All of the undead blurred into one, until a certain walker caught your attention.
“Oh my god Glenn, look at this.” You gestured to a walker pawing at the fence. Nothing seemed abnormal until you looked at their chest, where a page had been pinned. One line in the book had been underlined.
The person that can help you is you.
Besides the underlined quote, a note was scribbled. “This is your sign to carry on.”
You could imagine some poor soul pinning the note to the walker’s chest. You imagined that walker falling on top of you, your arms weak, contemplating relaxing your arms for just a moment long enough to be torn apart. But then you’d see those words. You wanted to believe that someone placed that note there to save other people, it might have been the person who had turned, to provide a light when the world succumbed to the darkness.
Glenn plucked the page off of the walker’s chest, batting aside it’s probing hands. He handed it to you, a small smile on his face.
You rubbed the pebble, methodically stroking it’s smooth surface. The sensation brought you a sense of calm. It was so dark inside of the container you could barely see your own hand in front of your face. The hard floor provided a strange comfort as the trinkets in your back pocket pressed into you.
Things had changed rather quickly.
You never realised how fast you could go from having a group, to having no one. The prison fell, and in the chaos you didn’t see a single living soul. You could only pray that if any others survived, they didn’t follow the train tracks like you had.
Sanctuary for all, what a crock of bullshit.
You had fought viciously to get here, fending off walkers, the elements, mother nature and the nature of man. You were so relieved to see the Terminus sign that you ignored the feeling in your gut, and now you were sitting in container D, waiting along with your other captives for god knows what.
If there was one small mercy, it was that they didn’t take your collectibles. They had no use for a pebble, a feather and a loose page. They hadn’t hesitated to strip you of your hat and jacket.
A thudding sounded on the roof of the container. You didn’t even flinch as a gap in the roof appeared, a metal canister falling to the floor. You’d been here too many times to know what this meant.
The Termites entered the container, snatching at two men with you. You kept stroking the pebble, hoping they would walk right past you.
They walked towards you.
Dread filled you. There was safety of the unknown inside this container; but out there? You had been here long enough to know that the prisoners who left here didn’t return.
You swallowed your fear, fixing them with the coldest stare you could until the bag was thrown over your head. You were pulled harshly to your feet. You tried to thrash out of their grip but there was no use. You cupped the pebble so tightly in your hand you could feel your fingernails digging into your palm.
You were dragged for what felt like miles. You kept tripping over your feet. You found yourself hoping that you would always be walking, and never reach the destination that you were certain was going to be your death bed.
They threw roughly to the floor. You fell to your knees, the cool floor freezing you to the bone. In one swift movement the bag was ripped from your head.
The first thing you saw was grey. The room could only be described as grey. Grey trough in front of you, grey floor, grey walls. A table towards the back of the room was grey; the thing on top was not. You couldn’t hide your shock as you saw the body sat atop it, a leg missing.
The dots connected.
You were being held captive by cannibals.
You tried to swallow your fear. It felt like you were choking.
Four bodies were brought in besides you. You focused on them to distract yourself from the bubbling panic filling your veins. The bags were removed, your heart both soaring and sinking.
How ironic, that you would reunite in such dire circumstances.
At the same time you recognised them, they recognised you. Glenn sat besides you, his eyes wide with fear at your dejected state. Rick, Daryl and Bob were sat besides him, all gagged and bound like you were.
You tried to muster a smile, struggling to fight past the fabric tied around your mouth. All they did was stare at you, dumbfounded to have found a friend in this hell hole.
The first swing of the bat. At first you were confused, eyes following the sound. The man brought from your container was slumped over. The next moment, they had him pulled upright, slitting his throat.
You were transfixed by the red filling the trough in front of you. It never stopped. The man next to you started to panic, his worries quickly silenced with the swing of the weapon. His blood sprayed on your cheek as they slit his throat.
You felt a presence behind you.
It was at the minute you had the rushing realisation you were the next victim. Your body started to shut down. Memories of your life flashed before your eyes - the joys from before the apocalypse, eating ice cream at the beach and riding a bike until the sun dipped below the sky. They quickly transitioned to memories where the dead walked - you forced yourself to look beyond the bad, thinking about the day you made a friend under the starry sky, how he confided in you besides a chicken coup, and how he held you so tight when you revealed your moment of weakness.
Glenn was squirming beside you. If he wasn’t gagged you knew he would be screaming. You couldn’t muster the energy to try to resist. This was it.
You forced yourself to be brave. You didn’t want to be weak in front of your friends. You hoped with all of your heart that they would be able to escape this hell and make it burn to the ground. You sat with your back rod straight, staring defiantly at the Termite’s lingering around the room. The only indication of your fear was your shaking hands, your thumb seeking that pebble.
You looked at your best friend one last time, feeling the whoosh of the bat.
As more red filled the trough, a pebble, a feather, and a loose page fell to the floor.
Inspired by the gym scene in All of Us Are Dead, you get cornered in a storage closet by walkers, devising a plan that will have disastrous consequences. TW: graphic description of blood, gore and death.
All of Us Are Dead spoilers below the cut
The rain was thrashing down. The mud beneath your feet was making your steps unsteady yet you were still powering on. The moans of the undead behind you were relentless, acting as your adrenaline as you propelled yourself further on weak legs. Your legs were burning, the makeshift weapon in your hand swinging wildly by your side. Your breaths were leaving you in large huffs but you still pushed yourself faster, forcing your legs to carry you to the glass doors of the gym.
Rick and Daryl were at the front of the group. Sliding through the mud, they clambered up the steps to the doors, ripping them wide open and ushering everyone inside. You all filed into the shelter, leaving muddy tracks behind you as you stepped into the gym, the dreadful weather outside casting little light into the room. You collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath. Your lungs felt as if they were on fire. Each inhale was adding to the growing inferno.
“That was close.” Glenn sighed a laugh, sharing a nervous glance with you. You mirrored the action, unable to muster the strength to speak. It felt nice to stop for a moment, your body thanking you for the moment of respite.
“Maybe we can stay here for a…” Rick’s words trailed off as lightning struck. The sudden light lit up the room, giving you all a snapshot of the horror show you had just walked into.
The gym was crawling with walkers.
Your heart stopped in your chest. You prayed that if you stayed still and quiet they wouldn’t notice you; all hopes were dashed as the moment you locked eyes with them, they seemed to look at the group.
Any sense of relief you’d experienced disappeared in a flash. In an instant you were on your feet, kicking the walker closest to you. It tumbled to the ground, giving you enough time to fall behind the rest of the group as they piled into a storage closet, the door slamming shut behind you.
You pressed your back into the door, feeling the shake of the walkers. You grunted with the pressure. You stumbled on your feet as the pressure grew. The door opened a crack, just enough for walkers to poke their fingers through.
Terror flooded you as you realised - this place could be your graveyard. The thought fuelled you to push past the aching limbs and press harder into the door.
Maggie came up besides you, brandishing her knife and chopping the fingers off of the walker. Without missing a beat she pressed her upper body against the door, efficiently slamming the gap closed.
“Thanks,” you breathlessly thanked her, mostly occupied with keeping your feet planted to the ground.
She nodded her head in acknowledgement, her body too being shaken by the sheer force of the walkers.
Casting a glance over your shoulder, you saw Daryl, Rick and Glenn milling around the room, searching the contents. A shot of resentment coursed through you, especially upon seeing Daryl seemingly do nothing.
“A little help would be nice.” You snapped.
“We’re tryna find a way out.” Daryl was equally as snippy. You couldn’t help but roll your eyes.
“Can you at least find something to bolt the door with?” A particularly heavy thud nearly pushed you away from the door. Your arms were shaking with the constant pressure. “We’re struggling here.”
“I got it.” Glenn rushed past Daryl and Rick, a mop in his hand. He manoeuvred between you and Maggie, sliding the mop in the door handle.
“Move on three?” You gestured to Maggie, who nodded in agreement. “One. Two. Three.”
The pair of you took a cautious step away from the door, watching the door with attentive eyes. The door bucked with the beating of the undead, the mop securing it in place.
Glenn appeared in your sight again, rolling what looked like a trolley filled to the brim with balls in front of the door. He engaged the brakes with his foot, smiling weakly. “Just in case the mop doesn’t hold.”
You didn’t want to think what would happen if that was the case. The trolley could only hold them for so long, and between you all, you didn’t have the weapons or manpower to overcome the amount of walkers you’d seen out there.
Tumbling to the ground, you took a moment to survey your surroundings. There were more metal crates of balls lined up against another wall, the balls different colours and sizes. Behind that was a bucket full of hockey sticks. You noted that in the back of your mind for later. A red eagle costume was hung up on one of the walls, a layer of dust having settled into the fabric. The walls were white, bar one that featured the school’s logo. A red eagle with the school’s name was imprinted into the brick. It almost made you laugh.
Despite all of this, there were no windows. You were once again reminded how school was a prison, and ironically long after your school years had been finished, you were captive once again.
You rested your head on your knees. Why did the most simple things have to go so wrong? All you’d wanted was to scavenge the school. It appeared to be quiet outside, leading you all into a false sense of security. Turns out, they’d been waiting for the prey to wander into the trap.
“So… what now?” Glenn asked out loud. You looked up from your knees, seeing him sat directly across from you with his arm wrapped around Maggie. You imagined your face was the mirror image of theirs - empty. You wondered if they’d also accepted their fate. You were mentally calculating how long it would take for you all to brave the walkers outside and die, or let nature do its work and kill you in two days. Either way, you had accepted that the only outcome of this situation was grief.
Rick rubbed his beard, his voice so small even the mice would struggle to hear. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” The words slipped out your mouth without meaning to. There was a venomous tone to it even you were shocked to hear.
“Y/N, give the man a break.” Daryl snapped.
“Oh fuck off Daryl.” You spat, trying to push down your rising anger. “If it wasn’t for him we wouldn’t be in this mess.”
“He’s jus’ trying his best.”
“And his best is going to get us killed.” You sighed, looking up at Rick. “You’re meant to be our leader. So lead. Tell us how the fuck to get out of this mess.”
“If ya gave the man time to think -”
“We might not have that time!”
The pounding started harder on the door. Daryl huffed, striding towards you. Before you knew it he had you pinned against a grate, his hand scrunched up in your shirt. “Are ya gonna keep your loud ass shut or am I gonna have to do it for ya?”
“I’d like to watch you try.” His grip on your shirt tightened. For a second you thought his fist was going to fly into your face: as much as you hated him, you knew he wouldn’t do that to you. Daryl had a code and while you might be toeing the line to get a beating, you hadn’t passed the mark yet.
“They’re just scared, Daryl, let them go.” Rick placed a gentle hand on Daryl’s shoulder. Reluctantly Daryl let you go, looking as though giving in took a huge physical toll. You softly glared at the man, subtly readjusting the shirt he’d just scrunched up.
Glenn wandered over to where Daryl had you pinned, pushing the grate. “Guys, I think I have an idea.” He spun on his heel, counting the trolleys. “If we can tie these together, we can get to the door.”
“Glenn, you’re a genius.” You reached for the nearest trolley, pulling on the grate. It appeared to be sturdy enough, and once the brake was disengaged, you’d be able to move it. The most dangerous part would be the first part - pushing the trolley’s out - as there was no space in here to make the circle, but once the circle was secured? It would act as a fortress.
He smiled shyly. “Thanks.”
“Reckon we could add the hockey sticks to them? Break them so it’s like a javelin and let the walkers walk right into them?”
“It’s a good idea,” Glenn pondered, looking at the others. “It’ll take time.”
“We don’t have time.” You almost rolled your eyes hearing Daryl echo your words from earlier. Of course he would agree when it’s under his own circumstances. “We could flip the lids, crawl through.”
“We’ll get nowhere that way.” You flipped the lid of a trolley up. “It’ll be best for them to be tall.”
“You do know walkers can climb right?”
Instantly your back was straight. You crossed your arms. “Better than taking our sweet ass time by crawling across and having walkers crush us to death.”
“Yer such a dumbass.”
“Excuse me?” That spark of irritation was quickly becoming a raging fire of anger. You could feel your fists clench and jaw tighten the longer you were in his presence. “Want to say that to me again?”
“So not only are ya a dumbass, yer deaf too.”
“Come here you little shit -” You pounced towards Daryl, Rick grabbing you just in time before your body collided. You fought against his grip, trying desperately to get to Daryl, who merely stepped away from your flailing hands. This only angered you further, a growl of frustration ripping from your body.
“Can you two get along for just five minutes?”
“He’s acting like a child.”
“They’re actin’ like they’re hot shit.”
“Either way, one of you is going to be pissed. Let’s vote on it. Agreed?” Nodding reluctantly, you shifted out of Rick’s grip. “If I let go of you Y/N, do you promise not to scratch Daryl’s eyes out?”
“I guess.” You muttered underneath your breath, feeling Rick release your waist slowly. He stood nearby, one eye trained on you as if he expected you to lunge for Daryl at any given moment. You couldn’t blame him really.
As a group, you decided it would be best to keep the lids of the trolley’s high, Maggie and Rick agreeing with your stance. Daryl did little to hide his displeasure at the end result but said nothing. You could sense his foul mood from a million miles away.
You focused on the task at hand, tying ropes to the trolley’s and securing them together. Your hands grew tired of the constant movement and you could feel his searing glare into your back. You tried to pass it off and carried on, the weight of his gaze growing heavier and heavier with each passing minute.
Your fingernails dug into the palms of your hands. Before you could control yourself, you spun around, seeing Daryl staring at your trolley with the lid flipped high. “What?”
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“We voted, get over it.” You turned to continue the task at hand. You could sense his annoyance still. This time when you turned on your heel, it wasn’t a threat you were spitting his way, it was a promise. “If it goes wrong, I’ll take responsibility.”
Daryl nodded, seeming content with your response.
The argument now settled, you all continued to fix the trolley’s and put the plan to action. Time flew past, and soon, the plan was ready to be executed. You stood by your crate, your grip on the metal bars slick as your heart banged loudly in your chest. This was the make or break moment.
Rick stood at the front of the line. He cast a glance at you all from over his shoulder, sensing the nervous tension. “Are you ready?”
“Better now than never.” For once, Daryl said something and you didn’t want to punch him. You were grateful he had spoken up, your own words lost to the panic building in your chest.
Rick removed the mop from the door handles. He opened the doors.
There was no going back now.
As a unit, you all pushed the trolley’s out into the gym. Rick and Daryl took out the nearest walkers, rushing back towards the trolleys to form a circle. Hurriedly they tied to ropes together, binding the trolleys together into a circle shape.
Laughing, you smiled at Glenn. For the first time since you stepped into the gym, there was an ebb of hope lingering in the back of your mind. Maybe this wouldn’t be your death day after all. “It worked.”
“Don’t speak too soon.”
Together you began to push your makeshift shield towards the door. Slowly you began to feel resistance from the other side, the smell of the undead quickly becoming overwhelming. Progress started to slow as more walkers catapulted themselves at the shield. You desperately tried to beat away walkers impeding the progress; each time a walker fell, another would take its place.
The walkers were just too strong. They kept pushing over the top, fighting to make their way in. Your arms burned with effort as you struggled to keep the shield intact.
“Make ‘em tall, great idea Y/N.” Daryl snapped, his muscles bulging as he pushed the shield forwards towards the doors.
Anger surged through you. You tried to focus on that, and not on the ebbing strength. “We would have died in there!”
“An’ we’ll die out here!”
You tuned out Daryl’s mumbling, focusing on keeping the grates as close together as you could. With each passing second more walkers were making their way towards the contraption and it was harder to keep them at bay.
The hope you had started to feel was disappearing with each walker. A thin sheen of sweat was coating your body with the sheer exertion of the task. Your body was fighting to stay alive and your brain was convincing you to keep trying, it’ll all work out.
Maggie cried out. A walker had managed to creep through a crack, grabbing her tightly. It tugged her towards the grate, it’s jaws growing closer to her skin. Your body moved before you could process what was happening, stabbing the walker in the skull. It’s grip fell from Maggie. You frantically grabbed the sides of the grates, pulling them closed.
A sharp pain lit up your hand. Instinctively you pulled your hand back; it was too late. The world seemed to stop as you saw the teeth marks imprinted into your skin. Blood poured down your hand. Your death warrant had now been signed and there was absolutely nothing you could do about it.
No one had noticed your turmoil, too busy at keeping the walkers at bay.
“Y/N, get your act together and help us!” Daryl snapped, pushing harder against the grate to no avail. The amount of walkers now swarming the shield was making your greatest asset your greatest weakness.
You smiled sadly at Daryl. Looking at him you saw all of the unresolved fights, the hatred you had towards him. You never could admit the reason you hated him was because you saw so much of yourself in him. And now, you would die without ever having a chance to repent for all the hurtful things you’d ever said to him.
Clearing your throat, you looked at him with blurry eyes. “I said I’d take full responsibility.”
He stared at you blankly as you jumped on top of the crate, pushing the walkers away with your hands. The walkers clawed at you but you didn’t care, your death had already been sealed, there was nothing else that could be done. You felt a sharp tug on the back of your shirt pull you off of the crate. You fell to the ground with a harsh slam. You relished the pain - it reminded you that you were still human.
“The hell you think ya doin’, playing hero?” Daryl snapped, pulling you to your feet.
“It’s too late for me!” You cried out, pulling yourself from his grip. His hands released you, watching with confusion as he noticed how you cradled your hand. Your hand, that had the imprinted teeth marks and dripping with blood. You felt his eyes draw to it. You swore you saw sadness cross his face. Shakily, you smiled. “Just let me help, okay?”
Before anyone could protest, you pushed yourself over the shield. You started dragging the walkers away from the moving shield, watching with a sense of hope as it started to move slowly across the room. You didn’t care about the walkers at your back; your friends were in trouble.
You walked towards the shield, helping pull it towards the doors. A pair of jaws hooked themselves around your shoulder. Your face twisted in pain and yet you kept pulling, your hand tightly gripping the top of the grate.
Another jaw latched onto you. This time you couldn’t disguise your agony as you cried out. Tears streamed down your cheeks.
A hand fell on top of yours. Daryl’s stricken gaze bore into your own as he started screaming at the top of his lungs for them to leave you alone. His grip on your hand tightened. He was borderline hysterical as he watched you be ripped apart, yet still pulled the shield to the door, your movements growing weaker as more blood spurted from your wounds.
More jaws attached themselves to your body. There was no use in hiding your pain as your friends watched you be torn apart.
You prayed he saw the apologies in your eyes, how you wished he would one day forgive you for the unfounded hatred you had towards him. You were grateful that despite everything that had transpired between the two of you, he still comforted you in your final moments on this earth.
“Let’s go home.”
You disappeared into the walkers, using the last of your strength to send a silent plea to whatever higher power was listening.
Request - I’m in college too at the moment so don’t worry about it! I understand the struggle and there’s absolutely no rush! I was wondering if I could request a platonic Glenn Rhee x older teen!reader? (Like 17-18) Preferably female but gender neutral is okay too! While on a run, reader sneaks up on him, knocks him out, and steals his stuff because she’s trying to survive on her own and doesn’t really have much. She ends up feeling bad and brings him to a secure place and waits for him to wake up before apologizing and giving his things back. Maybe he brings reader back to the group and they form a sibling like bond? Super protective Glenn? Again take your time and thank you so much!
Angst?/Fluff -
Warnings - Theft, Injury, Blood,
Pairing - Glenn Rhee X Teen!Fem!Reader
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You knew you’d eventually have to move on from the little home you’d set yourself up in. In the backroom of a drug store, you’d set up a home base and rarely left that room. It’d been a long while since you’d been around people or seen someone that wasn’t looking to kill or rob you. The supplies that you had in the store were finally starting to run low and you could only go so long on just granola bars and what few water bottles actually had water in them.
With just a knife at your side, you stepped out of the room and into the main part of the store. Carefully, you step over the cans you’d strung up to signal if something (or someone) wandered into the store. Exiting the store, you pause for a moment, taking in the feeling of the sun on you before you walk to the next little store over. You open the door, freezing when the bell above your head chimes.
After a long moment, no walker shows itself so you continue going in, propping the door to stay open with a piece of broken shelf. You slowly walk through the small store, weaving through the tiny isles in the hopes of finding unspoiled food. You’re almost tempted to leave when you nearly run into a huge spider web but you press on, praying that one doesn’t get the jump on you.
A small shelf of to-go foods was still kinda standing with most of the food gone and others ripped open on the floor no doubt by wildlife. “Score.” You smile, snatching a pack of jerky and instantly eating some of it before your attention is brought to the sound of a car pulling up outside. You duck down out of view of the front window. The car rolls to a stop outside and you can hear it turn off before one of the doors opens. You trade the jerky for your knife and slowly begin to make your way to the front to see out the window.
It’s a nice car parked out front of the stores. A figure walks away from the car and into the store you’d been staying in. Quickly, you leave the store and approach the back of the car, out of sight from the windows in case the person looks out. You can faintly hear the sound of the cans clinking as they kick one of the lines in the building.
For a moment you hesitate in opening the trunk of the car, contemplating if you had it in you to steal from whoever it was. Then you thought back to your situation and slowly popped open the trunk of the large car, shuffling through the boxes in the back. Whoever it was had a good bit of guns and supplies in the back.
“Hello?” You jump, ducking down as the person leaves the store. He’d seen your stuff in the back and now was on high alert for anyone in the area. Quietly, you move along the side of the car while he walks along the other side. “Shit.” He reaches the open trunk, looking around before checking the contents of the trunk.
Slowly, you make your way around the car and somehow you’re behind the guy while his back’s turned. With all the strength you can measure you hit him on the head with the blunt end of your knife and he drops like a rock. Smiling triumphantly, you look down and nudge his body so he’s on his back with your foot. He’s out cold, groaning before falling silent. He’s wearing a bulletproof vest and there’s a rifle at his side which thankfully didn’t go off. You put your knife back at your side and pat down the man, finding a pistol on his person. You take the gun and then you really go through the back and take some food and water in a bag that you found in the trunk.
With the backpack on you go to walk away and clear out the rest of your stuff. “Don’t turn around.” You mumble as you walk away from the man’s unconscious body. “Don’t turn around.” You repeat, coming to a halt when you hear the groan of a walker. “Fuck me.” You turn on your heel, catching sight of a walker breaking the treeline, still oblivious to the man and you. Before you can pass the man to deal with the walker another appears and another and you’re suddenly dragging the man’s body into your store with all of your strength and sheer determination.
You close the door, pushing a shelf in front of it before bringing him to the back room. You close the door to the back room and lock it, huffing as you try to catch your breath. While he wasn’t super heavy the fear of walkers rolling up on you two was enough to make you work double time.
It took some time for the man on the floor to wake up. When he came to he couldn’t tell if he was more surprised that was inside and not tied up or that he was inside with another person so casually. Groaning, he sits up, eyes now on you as you sit, reading some super old magazine to keep busy. “Uh…hi?”
You look up, guilt on your face. “Sorry for the whole, dropping you on your ass.” You shrug, nodding towards the backpack. “Your stuff’s in there, you can take it and head out whenever. Just be careful, there were some walkers out there when I uh…jumped you.”
“Thanks?” He looks at the backpack then back to you as you sit with your back against the wall, knees to your chest. “Is it just you here?” Your eyes meet his, unsure if you should answer him. “I’m Glenn.” He doesn’t push for the answer, taking a different approach. “What about you?”
“Y/n.” You answer after a second, “it’s just me.”
“You’re pretty young.”
You snort a laugh. “Says you.” He smiles.
Glenn cracks his knuckles. “How many walkers have you killed?” You tilt your head.
Shrugging, you pick at the dirt under your nails. “I don’t know, a lot.”
“How many people have you killed?”
“These are pretty weird getting to know you questions man.” You muse before dropping your smile. “Just one.”
“Why?”
You look down at your shoes, head resting on your knees. “She asked me to. She didn’t want to turn.” Glenn nods slowly, relating to the pain of losing someone.
A brief silence passes between the two of you. “I have a community.” You look up and over to him. “A huge prison with thick walls and everyone’s kept well fed. I think you’d like it there.”
“You’re just taking in strays like me?”
Glenn smiles. “No one can make it alone anymore.” He justifies, standing up and cracking his back. “I’m just saying, you’re free to come with me. We’ll get you settled in and dinner tonight’s some kind of soup if I remember right.” He offers, watching you weigh your options.
“You’re not mad that I jumped you?”
He shakes his head. “If anything it was kinda impressive. You’d be a good fighter.” He reaches his hand out to you. “So…what do you say?”
You look at his hand before taking it, allowing him to pull you to your feet. “I’d say I’m in.”
…
A little over a week flies by since you arrived at the prison. Everyone welcomed you with open arms when Glenn brought you in. The first day there you stuck close to Glenn, listening to him talk about people he’d introduce you to. Since the first day, you’d slowly branched out to talk to people without Glenn.
“What we looking at loser?” You turn your head with a smile to see Glenn walking up. After yet another failed attempt at sleep, you snuck out to sit in the grass of the courtyard. Glenn had gone to check up on you only to find your bed empty, which has led him here.
“Stars and clouds idiot.” You state, gesturing with one hand towards the dark sky. In the full moonlight, it was easy to see the clouds as they pass. “Obviously.”
Glenn sits beside you, nudging you with his elbow. “Shut up.”
“Hey, you asked.” You raise your hands in defense. You turn your attention back to the sky. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For everything. For taking me in after I jumped your ass.” You tease, leaning away when he goes to push you.
“Language.”
“Okay, mom.” You mock, “but seriously. Thank you, Glenn.” He smiles, reaching over and dragging you closer to him.
Can someone refresh my memory - which episode (season 10) does Daryl look emotionally at the portraits of Glenn, Hershel and Beth? Your assistance appreciated! ❤️
I just finished The Walking Dead season 9 and I have to say…. the last episode was a little underwhelming. I saw spoilers with Judith and Negan in the snow and how he “saved her life” and expected something big, like Alpha attacking Alexandria and everyone had to flee…
Maybe I expected too much but I’m very excited for season 10!
I really hope we get Rick and Maggie back. It isn’t the same without them.
Also, I hate when actors leave a show before it’s finished (looking at you Nina Dobrev) because then their character has this unsatisfying ending (or apparently none at all like Maggie)
I know there is a chance for them coming back but still…
Here’s something to chew on: David Tennant will be joining Steven Yeun (not Moffat—sorry, Doctor Who fans) for an animated movie adaptation of Chew, an award-winning comic book by John Layman and Rob Guillory.
Chew centers on a character named Tony Chu (Yeun), a detective and Food and Drug Administration (FDA) agent. Chu happens to be a “cibopath”—someone who has the ability to see the life history of everything he eats. That means he can take a bite of anything (except beets, apparently) and then receive a vivid psychic impression. In the world of Chew, bird meats are illegal after the bird flu wiped out millions of Americans.
