#● put it in park or i’ll drag ya across the whole fuckin’ state ●

[onlydevilsleft]

{ sharpened by me ;; featured in the Nov issue of Cowboys and Indians Mag }

[essieeeeeeeee]

here’s part 1 of gratuitous Shobbs kidfic, aka sugar, spice, and everything nice

---------

“Remind me why I’m doin’ this again?” Shaw mutters.

Sweat is pooling at the small of his back under heavy black tactical gear; it drips down the sides of his face, trails into his eyes. Shaw squints against the sting of it.

The heat is just short of ungodly, in his very British opinion, and it’s only worsened by the kind of humidity that hangs in the air like molasses, thick and choking with every breath. A pervasive stench of rot wafts up from the earth around him, and as Shaw lays belly-down in the mud and slop, sinking further and further into the wet swampland with every passing hour, he’s certain that the putrid mess has immersed itself into his very flesh at this point.

Two days, laying there, hardly moving an inch in his vigil.

Two. Fucking. Days.

"Suck it up, princess," Hobbs' voice murmurs into his ear, and Shaw clenches his jaw at the sound of it. 

He’s been on worse missions - in worse locales even, for longer periods, and with less payoff - but none of those involved Luke Hobbs with unfettered access to his earpiece for two goddamn days.

“I believe, Mr. Shaw,” and Nobody’s voice is surprisingly clear over the earbud, considering the man was a continent away, “that the saying goes ‘you scratch my back, and I'll scratch yours’.” 

Not too difficult to say, Shaw thinks, from an air conditioned office in Los Angeles. 

Unfortunately, the man’s not exactly wrong - they'd made a deal, and these were the less than pleasant terms. After two months of separate tracking, going their own ways in the aftermath of Samoa, beating the smallest scraps of intel from every fringe of Eteon’s grubby little tentacles that they could find, he and Hobbs’ leads had finally run dry. Not a word - not a single fucking whisper - of Eteon’s operations had made its way through their varied contacts. The tech-cult had seemingly vanished off the very face of the Earth nearly overnight, to the point that it was almost questionable that it’d ever existed in the first place.

The bastards were good.

It was Hobbs who’d suggested the God’s Eye.

Deckard remembered it - vaguely, from his brief and regretful acquaintance with Jakande, and more so from Toretto’s less than legal applications of it in his brother’s favor. An ingenious piece of tech, admittedly.

One that, unfortunately, didn’t quite belong to them.

And such was the crux of Nobody’s deal: access to the God’s Eye, in order to hunt down Brixton’s known associates, and further their search for the enigma that was Eteon - and in exchange, he and Hobbs would play nice, and dismantle the latest thorn in Nobody’s side.

Simple enough, really.

But right now? This whole deal of theirs is feeling less like a scratch on the back, and more like being fucked up the arse, without even the decency of a reach-around to make the experience at least somewhat enjoyable.

Shaw’s only consolation is the fact that somewhere nearby in this god-forsaken jungle, Hobbs is just as neck deep in mud and shit as he is.

"I've got movement," Hobbs' voice crackles across the line. “Transport incoming.”

"Fuckin' finally," Shaw mutters.

He trails the view of his scope slowly back to the gates of the compound below. Two days of surveillance had yielded next to nothing so far, aside from a detailed understanding of the guards’ gambling habits, and one rendezvous that Shaw would have paid good money to have avoided ever witnessing in the first place.

He narrows in on the cadre of men playing poker at the edge of the gates, next to the station housing the exterior security system. Deckard snorts; the guard on the right doesn't have a chance of winning, going by his terrible hand.

If he has to watch the man lose one more round of poker, Shaw’s going to snipe him himself and put the poor bastard out of his misery.

"Too dirty for your delicate constitution there, your majesty?" Hobbs asks, amusement in his voice. Deckard scoffs.

"Yeah, and I’m sure the pig feels right at home, sloppin’ around in the mud like a -"

"Cut the chatter, boys," Nobody interjects cooly. "What do you got for me, Shaw?"

Shaw scowls, but falls silent nonetheless in grudging obedience. Nobody’s right, after all - he’s usually not quite so unprofessional on a mission like this, but something about Hobbs puts an itch under his skin. A need to bite back, and harder.

But it’s not the time. So Shaw lets his hands still; his breathing slows, deep and patterned. The steady, sharpened focus that’s aided him countless times before this has been difficult to dredge up, with the constant distraction of Hobbs’ taunts in his ear, but now he slides into it with the ease of long habit.

He focuses in on the line of vehicles that rumbles into sight from around the corner of the road. “Caravan,” Deckard murmurs quietly. Heavily armored trucks, he notes. Guards stationed at the back of every one of them, clutching to the railings, hefting rifles on their shoulders. Deckard slides his scope over the windows of each vehicle as they move by, searching, hunting - and then quickly skips back to the third car, as the man in the passenger seat glances out the window into the jungle, providing a clear view of his face.

Black hair, with greying wisps at the temples. A pair of deep crow’s feet bracketing dark grey eyes. And a distinct, thin scar at the edge of the right eyebrow.

Jackpot.

"Got a visual," Shaw confirms, pulling away from the viewfinder. "It’s him."

Rafael Somoza. Billionaire, cartel leader, international arms dealer, and, apparently, massive pain in Nobody's arse, if the agent was hard-up enough to manipulate them into helping bring him down. From the dossiers he and Hobbs had been given, it was clear the kingpin had his fingers in far too many pots around the world for the American government's comfort, and now a nice, dazzling assassination was on the menu.

Shaw could easily take him out, here and now. His finger itches on the trigger as he trains his target between the man's eyes, imagining the neat little hole he could make just there, right above the faint gray line of his scar. The windows of the car were likely bulletproof, but it wasn’t anything a nice bit of armor-piercing rounds wouldn’t fix.

But none of that was in the books. Nobody wanted big, fiery, decadent chaos, not a simple bullet to the head. He wanted a message sent to Somoza’s cronies, many of whom would likely shit themselves over the opportunity to fill the vacuum of power left behind.

It didn’t hurt that the compound was stocked with more illegal weaponry than even Eteon could shake a stick at; it’s destruction would be a feather in Nobody’s cap.

And on top of it all, the fact that Somoza's fortune was carried on the back of his lucrative slave trade?

Shaw didn’t mind all that much playing messenger boy, in this case.

“Alright boys,” Nobody says, voice just as jaunty as ever. "Time to do what you do best."

“Hobbs?” Deckard asks.

“In position.”

“Good. Watch and try to learn something while you wait outside like a good little boy.”

Hobbs' snort follows him as Shaw pulls himself out of the mud with a soft squelch, ignoring the stiffness of joints that haven’t moved for hours on end. The caravan is waved through the gates, and behind them, Deckard slips silently down towards the compound wall below.

******

Fifteen minutes later, Shaw’s silently wrapping a hand around the mouth of the last perimeter guard to muffle his shout of surprise, and driving a knife into the side of his skull. The man slumps in his grip; Shaw lets the body fall to the ground with a muted thud. He glances down at the dead man's face as he sheathes the blade at his hip, and clucks softly at the realization that it's Mr. Terrible Hand.

Poor bastard. Never even got a chance to win a round.

“All clear," he states quietly. He leans down, and hefts the limp body back up into his arms by the biceps. Couldn't just leave the trash lying about where anyone could trip over it.

“Took you long enough.”

"Oh, I'm sorry," Deckard huffs, dragging the dead weight back towards the guard station behind him. "Was the peanut gallery bored?"

Hobbs snorts. "Could'a sworn you mentioned learning something, but all I see is the clock ticking -"

“Boys,” Hattie rebukes softly. Hobbs chuckles at Shaw's irritated grunt.

"Alright tough stuff, I'm coming in."

"Yeah," Shaw mutters. He glances at the mansion at the center of the compound - a big, elegant affair, complete with sprawling garden near the east wing and a sizable, vine-covered balcony overlooking it - and carefully keeps out of line of sight of the windows.

His lips twitch into a smirk.

"Forgot to mention - left ya a little gift at the gate, Hobbs."

The distinct sound of a displeased snarl rumbles over the earpiece. It's followed by a series of ravenous barking, and Hobbs' alarmed cursing.

"You motherFUCKER-"

Hobbs cuts himself off with a yelp. Deckard snorts out a laugh.

Enjoy, you fucking twat, he thinks with satisfaction. 

With the last external security measure suitably distracted by the DSS agent, Shaw knocks open the guardhouse door with his foot, and promptly drops the dead man atop the pile of bodies already stacked in the corner. He dusts his hands - flakes of drying blood peeling off into the air with the gesture - and moves on towards the desk at the front. It’s laden with televisions broadcasting security footage from throughout the outside of the compound: gates, wall, yard, garden. Shaw scans each of them, and lets his eyes linger appreciatively for a moment over the Aston Martin parked smartly in the garage.

He's pleased to find no evidence of his handiwork on the screens.

He’s also pleased to see Hobbs, looking somewhat battered and with a tear in his trousers, on the bottom right monitor.

"I'm in," the other man pants. Shaw catches the irritated glare Hobbs shoots at the camera facing him, and it's honestly gratifying. "No thanks to captain assclown here."

"Couldn't take all the fun for myself," Shaw answers distractedly, trailing his hands over the wires in front of him down to the console tucked away out of sight. "What, the great Agent Hobbs can't handle a couple of pooches?"

"Pooches I can handle. That was a pack of goddamn hellhounds."

“Deck,” Hattie cuts in. “Use the USB to get us access to the terminal. Ramsey and I will take over from there.”

“Got it,” he mutters. He pulls the USB from his belt, and slides the device into the computer’s access port.

Working alone may be Shaw's default preference, but even he has to admit that technical assistance during these sorts of operations was helpful. Stealth in this particular mission would have been impossible, otherwise; the security system that Somoza employed was far too complicated, even for the respectable measure of skill Deckard possessed.

Not that he didn't enjoy an old-fashioned guns-blazing entrance, but sometimes the finesse of avoiding a confrontation could be just as thrilling as causing it.

The screens flicker, briefly, and he stiffens. A moment later, though, they settle back into their previous feeds. Deckard lets his shoulders relax as Ramsey’s low, impressed whistle filters across the line.

“The man’s definitely paranoid. I haven’t seen a system this intricate since Abu Dhabi. Cameras, door alarms, pressure sensors...”

“Can you get in?” Hobbs asks.

“Of course. Give me a minute, and - oh." Ramsey pauses. "Oh, no.”

“Oh no? What’s ‘oh no’?” Hobbs snaps, as Shaw asks a terse, “Ramsey?”

'Oh no's' were a shit sign - particularly from a mission’s tech specialist. In Shaw's experience, the term could mean anything from 'I spilled a soft drink on the keyboard' to 'there's an air-to-surface missile currently locked onto your position as we speak.'

Ramsey didn't exactly come across as the drink-spilling type.

“It’s the interior cameras.” Hattie’s voice is clipped and tense. "They operate on a separate relay. We can't access them remotely from here."

"Not completely, at least," Ramsey concedes. "I can't access the footage itself, true, but - I think we can freeze the clip if you tell me which rooms you're entering, to hide you from the monitors. But you'll have to make sure they're empty first, otherwise - well…"

"They'll know something's up," Hobbs finishes for her. "Think you can handle that, Tiny Tim?"

“Like I said,” Shaw says, sliding the USB out and pocketing it again. A flicker of hungry anticipation wells up in his chest. “Watch and learn.”

“Hobbs, the cameras to the garage are all external - we’ll have eyes on you.”

“Alright then,” Hobbs says. His eagerness is obvious. “Let’s roll.”

*****

Keeping out of sight over a long stretch of yard, in the middle of the day, with bright sunlight streaming down and not a single bush to duck behind, is bloody fucking difficult.

Deckard assumes he manages it, though, when a contingent of guards fails to appear as he starts his climb up the vines draping down from the deck above the garden. He smoothly hauls himself up and over the balcony ledge, and crouches down by the glass doors, keeping low and leaning forward slowly to get a glimpse into the room beyond. According to the blueprints, it should be a guest room - decked to the fucking nines, like everything else in the mansion, but burdened with less foot traffic from the guards than, say, Somoza's own bedroom. Perfect entry point.

It's empty, as far as he can tell. 

"Hats?"

The soft clicking of a keyboard is audible over the line. "You're good to go. Ramsey and I have disabled all door alarms. Freezing the camera in three, two - one."

He jimmies the lock to the door with the ease of long practice, and silently steps into the room.

And it’s - as expected, honestly. All fine paintings and heavy, voluptuous drapings, a four-poster mahogany bed, thick carpets that a man could comfortably sleep on. And all of it likely cost an inconceivable fortune. Everywhere he looks screams of wealth and luxury, in an obnoxious, ostentatious way.

Shaw stares down at it - and then slowly, deliberately, wipes his muddy boots along the length of the rug beneath him.

Human trafficking cuntwads.

“Deckard?” Ramsey’s says, and he lets his attention stray back to the task at hand.

"We're clear." Shaw strides to the heavy wooden door, opens it an inch to peer through. The hallway beyond is empty. "I'll guide. Just freeze 'em when I say."

And so he does. It’s almost absurdly easy, truth be told - Shaw feels somewhat disappointed by the lack of challenge in it all. He slips through the halls like a ghost, footsteps soft on the wooden floors, ducking silently behind doorways and into nooks and crannies as the occasional guard surfaces. It's largely quiet, though. It seems the intel on this one was good - the compound was being cleared out, with a bare bones staff on premises, consisting only of Somoza's men. The rest of the 'staff' - a fancy word for slaves, likely, knowing Somoza's tendency to dabble in that filthy practice - had already been relocated to his newest facility.

A lucky break, that Nobody had snatched that piece of information.

Blowing up the whole fucking building with the man still in it wouldn't have been quite as fun with civilians on site.

"Hobbs, right there - the center column, three to the right," Hattie says, as Shaw tests the handle of the door in front of him. Locked. "Plant the charge there. It's the main support for the upper floors. If the blast doesn't take them out, the collapse of the building will."

It's faint, but Deckard has known his sister his entire life, and can pick out the sound easily enough behind the cool professionalism in her voice: a hint of bloodthirsty glee.

That’s my girl, Deckard thinks.

The door opens easily enough under his deft hand, and Shaw quietly pushes it open. The guard sitting in front of the bank of monitors ahead of him swivels in his chair, but before a sound can pass his lips there's a knife conveniently lodged in his vocal cords. He gurgles. Shaw calmly slides the blade out, then slips it back under his ribs in one smooth motion, and that's that.

He pushes both chair and corpse away and steps up to the monitors.

"I'm at the mainframe. What am I lookin' for here?"

"It's a chip," Ramsey says quickly. "There should be an access hatch in the bottom left of the terminal. You can take it from there, easy."

"Right," he mutters faintly, staring at the massive network of consoles and controls in front of him. "Easy."

It's not easy. 

"You're cuttin' it real close, Shaw," Hobbs grumbles ten minutes later, as Shaw runs his hands over the next terminal in line. He scowls.

"Maybe if you’d quit fucking yappin’ at me…” 

Loathe as he is to admit it, Hobbs is right: time is of the essence. The guard rotation's due in just under an hour, and they both need to be off premises at that point, or risk getting caught up in the fallout. The chip is essential, though - filled with data regarding the particulars of Somoza’s wide-ranging trafficking activities, according to the informant that had tucked it away for them.

If only the idiot had been a bit more specific on the location.

Finally, his fingers skim over the hatch. He wrenches it open, and slides the chip out with a soft click. “Done."

"Great. Now, if you're all finished with tea time, maybe we can get back on mission."

"Feel free to go and fuck yourself at any time, Hobbs."

"Oh, well I guess if I have her majesty's permission -"

"Are they always like this?" Ramsey asks quietly, as the bickering continues.

"Only most days," Hattie answers, bored.

"Lovely as it is to see you kids getting along so well," Nobody cuts in, "I think it's time that we set that charge, don't you boys?"

Shaw snaps his mouth shut on the next stinging retort, and straightens. "Set it for thirty minutes."

"Those hobbit legs of yours gonna be able to get you far enough away by then, short stack?"

Deckard snorts, and slips back out into the hall. "I'm touched by your concern," he sneers.

He goes silent, though, as his ears prick at the sound of footsteps from around the corner. Deckard glances down the hall, and his eyes alight on a door from the direction he’d just come. His hand hovers over the handle as he racks his brain - another guest room, if his memory of the blueprints serves him well, and thus likely empty - and as the footsteps get steadily closer, Shaw grabs the handle, tugging it open, swiftly stepping inside to escape detection, with a sharp, "Hats, freeze guest room three."

He closes the door behind him, and then - stills.

And... stares.

"Shit," he hisses lowly.

"Shaw?" Hobbs snaps immediately. There's concern in his voice.

But Shaw barely registers it. His eyes dart around the room as he lingers in the entryway, alarm freezing him in place.

Deckard takes in the changing table, the rocking chair, the small, soft toys littering the corners of the room. The murals of baby animals dancing cheerfully across pastel walls. A quiet lullaby plays from a speaker on the table, gentle and soothing, with a tinkling melody behind it. And in the center of all of it sits a crib - a beautifully carved, mahogany work of art, with the hangings of the four posts left half-open, gauzy and fluttering in the breeze from the ceiling fan.

"Deck?" Hattie asks.

Dread grips at his chest.

Because it's not a guest room.

It's a goddamn nursery.

"Shit," Shaw breathes again, staring through the crib's wooden slats.

The curious little face of an infant stares right back up at him.

[txladyj-blog]

Chapter 13 - This Time Around

A Daryl Dixon x OFC collaboration written by @xmistressmistrustx​ by request of @txladyj-blog​

Rating: Explicit

Relationship: Daryl Dixon/Original Female Character

Tags: Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Awkwardness, Awkward Flirting, Awkward Crush, Fluff and Humor, Angst and Humor, Mild Smut, Strong Language, Eventual Sex, Eventual Romance, Slow Burn, Canon Divergence, Some Canon Scenes and Dialogue

Chapters 20/?

She could see the light of the moon reflected in his eyes as she stared at him on the porch of his house. It was the middle of the night and she should have been asleep in her fairground fortress but instead, she was standing before Daryl wishing the fury was not fixed on his face as stubbornly as it appeared. Her heart was hammering and her palms were clammy inside her gloves.

“What the hell did you just say?!” He demanded.

Her throat dried up and her words came out as a mere croak, she couldn’t speak properly, couldn’t think straight. He wasn’t asking her to repeat herself, he’d heard her perfectly well, his question was one of disbelief if anything else.

“It-it’s me…Jess.” She whispered. She slowly removed her hood and lowered her mask, finally revealing her face and stepping closer, further into the light from the living room window.

Daryl’s face only grew angrier and more twisted with hurt and betrayal and Jess felt as though her stomach were harboring bricks. She wanted to backtrack, to tell him that it was all some elaborate hoax but that would have made him equally as irate. He inched closer to her, squinting and letting his eyes drag down her body and back up to her nervous face. She swallowed hard.

“What the fuck?!” He spat “All this time…all this time?”

“Yes.” She uttered.

“How could you do this to me?” He asked quietly at first, but with every word, the volume of his voice increased as did Jess’s anxiety “Huh? You think you can just come clean n’ I’ll just forgive ya for bein’ a fuckin’ liar?! Just like that?!”

“I-”

“You bailed! You bailed on me, on all of us and now I find out you’ve been walkin’ ‘round here in this damn Halloween costume the whole time!”

Jess tried to speak, tried to reason with him and explain that she hadn’t planned any of it. She hadn’t planned to find him in the woods with follow him to Terminus, she hadn’t planned to arrange to bring them back here and she also hadn’t planned to be unable to stay away from him. She needed to keep one eye on him, because she still cared about him. So many things to say emerged at a small whimper as tears stung her eyes.

“We were ‘sposed to be friends, Jess.” He stated, now with a calmer rage than before. “But you ain’t no friend of mine. Not after ya left n’ then lied to me when we had a chance to go back to how we were.”

“You’re not innocent either.” She tried. “Please, just let me explain.” She begged.

“Ain’t nothin’ for ya to explain. When ya took me for a damn fool, ya only proved you’re more stupid than ya thought I was. Stay the hell away from me.”

With that, he flung the door open and Jess winced when it was slammed in her face, leaving her alone on the front porch. A loud sob wracked her body, her shoulders sagged and her knees gave way, her body thudding onto the wooden surface. Her hands covered her face, tears pooling around her fingers before racing down her hands, more and more of them pouring from her eyes while her mind flashed back to the Quarry. He threw her a pack of Pens from the RV. He taught her to kill a Walker. He implied her cared about her when she asked him why. With every memory came yet more salty tears and somehow, she wasn’t on the porch anymore. She was thrashing about in icy water, her arms flailing around her and trying to gain some traction to keep her head above the surface. On the shore she could see Daryl, still and watching her. Beside him were baskets of clothes for washing and beating against the rocks. There was a slope, an RV parked at the top. Her lungs filled with water when she began to tire, splutters and coughs did little to alleviate the pressure in her chest.

“D-Daryl” She gasped.

But she was sinking, the Quarry was gone and so was Daryl all that was left was the bottomless blackness and tremendous fear as the last breath of air left her lips.

* * * * * * 

Jess jolted up from her pillow, her hair stuck to her sweat covered face and her chest rising and falling rapidly. She scanned the room in a panic, her hands shooting out and grasping at the sheets either side of her legs. They were real, it was all real and she was alive. She’d been dreaming. Just a dream. Her skin was burning with the adrenaline that was charging through her veins but also from the heat of the room which was acting like an oven. She figured it was considerably later than she usually woke and the sun was much higher in the sky. She raked her fingers through her hair, removing the strands stuck to her face with perspiration.

“Oh, hot damn.” She panted “It’s hotter than a preacher’s knee in here.”

The Morning light slithered through the gaps in the boards on the windows. The sun was unforgiving from mid-morning until well into the afternoon and she preferred to have been out and well into hunting by now. If it hadn’t been for Rick’s group showing up and Daryl walking back into her life, Jess would have gone back to the boat to spend the summer there. A vacation she thought she deserved but would now not be able to take. She sat herself up in bed and picked up a knife from the wooden, vegetable crate nightstand and turned it over in her hands, admiring the glint of the metal when the sunlight hit it. The knife Daryl gave her at the quarry. The knife she used for her first Walker kill. It held so much sentiment, so many memories and with those, a sense of desperate despair for something she lost but never really had in the first place.

She hardly ever used the knife anymore. It lived in her utility belt but was rarely brought out into the light of day unless she had no other choice. She leaned across her bed, dropping it onto her pile of clothes. She would wear it that day, the same as every other. But this time it would feel like it was burning a hole in her belt. It could be the crux, the thing that could spur her on to tell Daryl the truth. Or so she hoped. But if she decided against it, she didn’t have to use it. Her dream had set her back and made her doubt her intentions. There was every possibility that Daryl would react in the worst possible way and a niggling voice at the back of her mind told her that she deserved no less, that it would be a disaster and she was better off sneaking off into the shadows and staying out of his way. In her subconscious, she clearly thought that his anger would be justified and she was on the path to losing him forever.

But the idea of telling him the truth wouldn’t leave her mind, even as she went about her morning, getting dressed and making black coffee. She needed more powdered milk. Maybe she would see Daryl if she went to the pantry, maybe she wouldn’t. Should she seek him out, or leave things to fate? Fate hadn’t always been kind to her but surely, she’d earned a break.

* * * * * 

As luck (or fate) would have it, Jess came across Daryl on her morning hunt. She caught sight of one, toned, bare arm through the trees and crept forwards until she could see him sitting on the floor with his back against a fallen trunk, a cigarette resting between his lips while his hands checked over his crossbow. It was starkly obvious he felt more comfortable outside the walls and he appeared pensive, deep in thought, maybe even sorrowful. She stepped out of her hiding place and he quickly raised his crossbow, the mechanism inside clicking with the movement. Jess held up her empty hands in surrender.

No one spoke as she stood over him but eyes were connected and she liked that he no longer become as hostile towards her, despite her sometimes standoffish attitude. She hadn’t had a weapon pointed in her direction by him for some time and concluded that was a triumph in itself. He got up and dusted his jeans down before collecting his crossbow.

“Mornin’.” he grumbled.

He shot her an uneasy look, as if he didn’t know what to say, his greeting rendered a lie by the tone of his voice. While he wasn’t hostile as such, she could tell that he was put out by her mere presence and that she still annoyed him. She gathered she’d intruded into what was his thinking time. He turned his back, dirty angel wings ready to vanish into the trees.

“Morning. How’s the hunt?” She asked.

“How’s it look to you, Robin Hood?” He snapped, stopping and standing sideways. “Every time I turn around, ya there. Can’t even think without you showin’ up. You keep to the left side; I’ll keep to the right.” He finished his cigarette and flicked it into the undergrowth.

Jess flapped her arms by her sides. It seemed on that particular morning he was still hostile and it was apparent that she could never actually be sure which Daryl she would get on any given day.

“You and Merle are two peas in a pod” She sighed under her breath as she whirled around and made tracks to the ‘left side’ of Alexandria, her ‘side’ that meant he wouldn’t have to see or speak to her while they hunted. At least she would be able to keep an eye out for Enid and maybe even Carl if he was still chasing girls through the woods. It looked as though her knife would stay in its sheath for another day, Daryl’s mood was not one she wanted to worsen and she was more than aware that her revelation might do just that.

“The hell did you just say?”

His voice shot through her head like a bullet and after an initial split second of wondering what he was referring to, her legs suddenly felt like jelly and her stomach filled with bile. It was the same question from her dream…and she had just mentioned his brother’s name. Something she never would have known if she really was a stranger to him.

SHIT.

Her eyes focused on the muddy ground before her, the faded footprints from Daryl’s boots where he’d trudged through earlier than she’d arrived. Her vision lifted to the dense trees ahead and her eyelids slowly closed. She tried to take a breath but her entire chest began to shake, the simple act of an inhalation was now ten times more difficult than usual. She was drowning, just like in her dream.

“Hey!” he shouted. “I’m talkin’ to you! How d'ya know my brother's name?!”

It wasn’t a dream. It was a premonition.

Inch by inch, her body rotated and she found herself faced with a furious and baffled expression that made her panic. He’d closed some of the distance between them, now nearer to her than she’d expected. She searched the corners of her mind to try and come up with a way to deal with the situation in the calm and collection manner she’d become accustomed to. Time passed, she didn’t know how much but Daryl was appearing increasingly annoyed at her lack of response and she concluded that ultimately, the only way out of this was to come clean and to do it with some semblance of confidence. She gradually swept her long coat to one side, revealing her knife holster on her belt. Her fingers plucked the fastening open and she took hold of the blade, flinching when Daryl’s crossbow swept up and he aimed at her head. Jess’s brain went into overdrive.

Say you just knew his brother from somewhere. No, that won’t work. He will want to know how you know it’s Merle. You can’t tell more lies. More lies mean falling deeper and deeper into this deception and it will only get worse. But he’s going to hate you. Not that he cares about you anyway. Or, does he? Do you care about him? Of course, you do, or you’d be at the boat right now. You have no choice. You’re backed into a corner. Do it. Tell him.

She held up her free hand, signaling that she meant no harm and that he should let her continue. Evidently, there was still little trust between them because Daryl lowered the weapon but didn’t disarm himself completely. His finger was still planted firmly on the trigger as he held the bow at his side.

She slid the blade from the leather and her fingers clasped the cool metal of the sharp edge. Holding it aloft, she felt her eyes begin to sting.

“Do- do you remember this?” She asked with a croak. Any attempt to appear composed and confident was fading and fast. What she felt inside was a world away from the boldness with which she wanted to present herself. Below the surface, she was a scared little girl about to confess to the biggest lie she’d ever told to a person that had become important to her regardless of him treating her heart as though it was as empty and worthless as yesterdays can of beans. Whatever her reasons for such a deception, her dream had been a warning of the chance that Daryl would never forgive her.

His brow furrowed as his eyes zoned in on the knife’s handle. He instantly recognized it. Jess could tell, it was written all over his face when it crumpled and he blinked a few times like the sight would morph and change and it’d all be a big mistake.

“I told you an old friend taught me how to fight. He meant a lot to me.” She confessed.

She reached up and pulled her mask away before pushing her hood down. The sunlight hit her hair like a heater, the rays gracing her face and lighting up her skin. It was the first time she’d revealed her true self to anyone since she’d arrived, aside from when Carl had guessed and even then, she kept her disguise in place. It had to be Daryl. He had to be the first to see the face behind the mask because she wanted him to.

She could see the penny drop as he recognized her, his body recoiling in defense and his mouth dropping open.

“Hi” She uttered. “Stinky.”

Her voice was carried on the breeze and now he could hear her as clear as the day. It was Jess’s voice. The woman stood before him wearing elaborate, modified and impressive body armor, the woman who was abrupt, harsh and unapproachable, the mystery woman that he couldn’t get out of his head… was Jess, all along. He’d thought about her every day since she left. Even all those months later she still occupied his musings and he had no idea that she was right in front of him since he left Terminus.

“J-Jess?” He croaked

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“Fuck.” He spat upon the exhalation of a breath of disbelief “Fuck.”

Jess swallowed hard when it occurred to her that his reaction was the one that she’d expected the least. She re-holstered the knife that had started it all. The first weapon she’d acquired in the apocalypse and the one that got her through the woods and on her way to her city apartment. The knife he’d given her and made her keep. He blinked rapidly through bloodshot eyes and began to scan the ground, stepping one way, then the other before stopping altogether. Jess held her breath.

Oh, lord.

He ran at her, crashing into her body and forcing her to take a stabilizing step back. A cloud of dust kicked up from the ground where his boots had skidded along the dirt. She thought she felt the exact moment when her heart snapped into two, useless pieces; it was when he whimpered against her shoulder and held onto her so tightly it was as if he was convinced that she would dissipate into nothing in his arms. Initially, she froze and her whole body turned to stone. But the more he clung to her the more her arms lifted slowly and she wrapped her fingers around his shoulder and bicep. Touching him for the first time.

“I thought…” she heard him breathe jaggedly “… thought you were dead”

Unable to speak, she said nothing but felt everything so vividly, the guilt was choking her. She closed her eyes, pushing tears from under the lids. They streamed down her face. She kept telling herself that he led her on and hurt her and that he was lying to her the whole time at the quarry, but it did nothing to quell the biting regret she endured for leaving it this long to reveal who she was.

“Ohmygod” he rasped into the shoulder of her coat. His grip on her was so tight she could feel the desperation seeping from his body into hers.

His fingers were holding her hair in a fist where it pooled in her hood and he was doing the same with a handful of fabric from the back of her coat with his other hand. He had her in a vice like, white knuckle grasp and in that moment, she didn’t want to be anywhere else.

He dropped his arms, lifting his head and looked right at her, tears staining his own cheeks as he furiously bit down on his lower lip. She heard his breath catch in his throat and he stepped back, then forward again and rested his head on her shoulder. She reached up, threading her hands into his hair on either side of his head as she watched his body convulse with each breath. She had never touched him this much before, never felt his arms around her and never been able to get so close. It didn’t feel alien, like it was an out of place or new experience. It felt right. As if it was the right thing to do.

Suddenly he tore away from her, wiping at his eyes with the backs of his hands. Seeing him cry was like taking a razor to her own throat, unbearable guilt and pain raged in her chest.

Stop crying. Please. I wasn’t expecting this. I can’t take it.

His back was facing her and she quickly rid her face of her own tears with the back of her glove. She waited without a word for him to pull himself together, because as something clicked in her head, she realized she knew exactly what he was doing. She prepared herself for the point where relief turned to rage.

“You been lyin’ to me all this time” she heard him mumble before he tilted his head to the sun, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “So, you just bail with no goodbye, then show up over a year later with this cloak n’ dagger shit n’ ya don’t think that maybe I’d wanna know it was you?!”

“I’m telling you now.” She uttered.

“I been here for six fuckin’ weeks, Jess!” He shouted, whirling around and glaring at her with a fury she had anticipated with dread. Jess wasn’t even worried about the potential danger from nearby Walkers attracted to the noise, figuring that Daryl would probably welcome it as a way of venting some of his frustration. She could also use an outlet of some kind. “You been talkin’ to me as if ya don’t even know me! You think I’m some kinda fuckin’ idiot?! Huh?!” He yelled.

“No” she shook her head. “That’s not what-”

“-Ya owe me an explanation here, this is fucked, Jess. It’s fucked!”

“I don’t owe you shit” she hissed out of nowhere. Her own anger was now presenting itself and her defenses were well and truly up. In her dream, she’d done nothing but let him vent in front of her as the Quarry camp Jess would have done. But she’d changed, evolved and built herself up along with constructing her own kingdom and methods of surviving.  

Daryl scoffed and shook his head at her, unable to believe what he was seeing and hearing. The sweet girl from the quarry camp was right there in front of him. The girl he’d thought about every day since she left. The girl he tried to find on two occasions. She was there, only she wasn’t. Not really.

“Who the hell are you? You ain’t the Jess I used to know” he spat.

“I guess all the bullshit just made me stronger.” She mumbled, the confidence she’d tried to display at the start now creeping back. “I didn’t mean to deceive you like I did.” She began to move off, away from him, mapping her escape. “I’d appreciate it if you let me tell the others, in my own time”  

“Fine. I’ll keep your secret. But I deserve to know what the hell happened with us n’ why ya just left me” He demanded.

Jess raised both eyebrows and blinked slowly at the prospect of explaining everything to him. Figuring that if he didn’t already know what he’d done, she wasn’t about to spell it out to him.

“There was no ‘us’ and I didn’t leave you, there was nothing for me to leave.” She reminded him.

“We were ‘sposed to be friends.” He pointed out

“No, we weren’t.” came her stern correction.

She swiped at another stray tear, lifted her hood and mask and removed herself from the situation, leaving Daryl with his rage in the woods.

He didn’t return to Alexandria until dusk that day, staying out in the wilderness to gather his thoughts which were marred with questions and confusion. He couldn’t make sense of any of it. She was the only person that he ever felt a connection to, he still didn’t know the reason why but the fact that she’d been running through his mind for so long, even during her absence proved that she meant something to him. Now, she was different. Her eyes were the same and so was her voice but her body had changed, she was stronger, leaner, more agile. He wondered when her soul had changed, why he was no longer important to her. If he even mattered to her in the first place.

* * * * * 

When the sun was going down, a single flare floated up into the sky, leaving a thin trail of red smoke behind it. Jess heard the crack from inside her diner abode where she had spent the day raging at herself for being unable to stop crying and thinking of nothing but Daryl. How she’d hurt him. How he’d hurt her. She supposed they were even, if it worked that way. She didn’t want to think about how stoic she’d have to seem when she next saw him, especially if it involved other people.

The noise startled her. Loud, almost like a gunshot but right above the building. She checked through the gap between the board and window frame, nothing. A regular, early evening rustling of the trees and a darkening of the woods beyond the fairground. She padded across the room, her bare feet sinking into the thick rug and unlatched the many locks on the door. She ducked her head out of the doorway, squinting up at the sky.

What the hell is…?

Her shoulders tensed and she breathed a deep breath. Alexandria was in trouble.

It wasn’t until the carnage was over that Jess found out what happened behind the walls. Someone had died in their home, turned and managed to break free, infecting everyone they came across and spreading death faster than anyone could have predicted.

Barreling through the gates, she took in the scene before her. To her left, Deanna and some of Rick’s group were ushering the townsfolk into the church to keep them together and safe. People were screaming and crying, holding onto their families tightly and shielding their eyes from the dead people wandering the street. To her right, Abraham was slashing his way through three Walkers with nothing but a metal pipe and a cigar clenched between his teeth. Ahead of her, Rick and Michonne were working together to kill everything dead that emerged from between the houses. Glenn was behind them, tackling his own assailant. At the opposite end of the street, Jess could see Carol, checking the houses for anyone hiding and shining a flashlight through windows. She sprinted ahead, passing Rick and giving him a quick nod with her bow aimed and ready in her hands. She slowed and took heed of the numbers around her. Three with Abraham, three emerging from each side with Michonne and Rick, one with Glenn, none with Carol. Deciding to sweep the perimeter, she ducked down a walkway at the side of Ricks home. Wishing the light was better, she crept along in pursuit of a snarling noise and when the smell hit her, her throat tensed. It was close. She backed against the house, edging closer to the corner where the Walker was dwelling. As she flung herself around the corner and went to release her arrow, she was beaten to it by a bolt flying in her direction. It hit the dead female with a splat and floored her instantly.

Daryl was striding at her, grabbing her arm and bundling her back around the corner. His fingers dug into her arm which would have caused a certain amount of pain had she not been clad in Kevlar.

“You OK?” He asked.

“I’m fine. I just got here. How many more are there?” She said, peering up at him in the shadows over her mask.

“You shouldn’t be here. Go stay with the others in the church.” He ordered, quickly craning his neck around the corner of the building and checking the coast was clear.

“Oh. I see. Now you know who I am, I must need saving. Just like before.” She remarked.

“What? No. It’s just…we got this. You don’t need to be here.” He reasoned.

Jess stared at him, unable to fathom how she automatically had to be vulnerable and in peril because she was the fat nerd from the quarry camp. He’d seen her fight, he’d seen the change in her, yet he had dropped into protective mode nevertheless.

“How noble of you. Protecting the poor, incapable nerd.” She spat.

“What?” He asked. Not only because he didn’t hear her, but also because his attention wasn’t on her, it was on Carol, Rick and Michonne in the street, putting down the last of the Walkers.

“You didn’t hear me? I said fuck you.” Jess proclaimed. She ripped her arm from his grip before charging off and following the dark path around the wall.

Having to stop and calm herself after her confrontation with Daryl, she sank against the side of Deanna’s house and tilted her head up to the sky, closing her eyes and attempting to regain some control over her breathing. She knew she’d overreacted as soon as her heart rate began to settle and her body loosened up. But she still couldn’t believe how he’d jumped straight into protective mode when he’d seen, first hand how she could handle herself. It was like he still saw her as the old Jess. The ‘Little, fat chick’ as Merle had named her.

She was shoved off balance, saved only by her leg stomping on the grass and preventing her from plummeting to the floor. Hands grappled with her body, clawing feverishly with bloodied teeth gnashing at her throat. Her hands quickly raised, grabbing the dead man’s throat and pushing him back with all her might but the warmth in his skin told her he was recently deceased and therefore, stronger than some of the other Walkers. She recognized the crazed face and the cloudy eyes that gawped at her with such hunger. It was the man that lived next door to Aaron and Eric. He had two teenage sons. Having to think quickly, she heaved at his throat with all her might, letting out a loud grunt. He stumbled back long enough for her to snatch the knife Daryl gave her from her belt and slam it into his temple. The noise was sickening, an almighty crack that echoed from the towns walls and the side of the house. The man slumped forwards, pinning her to the wooden slats of the wall and dribbling blood down her clothes. But Jess didn’t care, she tugged the knife out and stayed there with the Walker laying on her, her knife at her side, pooling blood on the floor while her chest rose and fell and her forehead glistened with sweat.

When Alexandria finally became quiet again and Rick was sure there were no stragglers, he re-grouped everyone outside his house. Daryl stood beside Carol and flickered his eyes up to where Jess stood, thinking she wouldn’t notice his subtle observations. But she felt every glimpse like it was a sledgehammer. She knew he’d picked up on the blood on her clothes and hands due to a lack of gloves. Jess remained indifferent and on the sidelines, she was neither a part of Rick’s group or Alexandria’s. She marched to her own band now but decided to stick around and see if she could be of any more help.

Surprising everyone by not being present in the church with everyone else, Carl ran up to his father from inside the house and flung his arms around him. Jess wondered how Rick kept his temper with such a spirited and adventurous son to keep safe as well as a baby.

First I find him outside the walls and now he’s not even in the church. Like hollerin' down a well telling this kid what to do. Jess thought.

“I’ve asked Deanna to keep everyone on lockdown until we can move some of the bodies.” Rick announced after briefly scolding his son for disobeying him.

Carl caught Jess’s eye and mouthed something to her. She knew what it was, there was no mistaking it. 

‘Tell them. Please.’

Keeping up an act was already becoming exhausting and emotionally taxing and that was without Carl’s stubborn streak. Daryl also knew now and that meant her anonymous days were numbered. She hated the thought of no longer being a silhouette without an identity, it was what had kept her alive for so long and allowed her to throw away her old misgivings and fears and become a survivor. She could stitch her own wounds and alone, by herself and in the kingdom she created for herself.

The universe had a funny way of putting things in her path. First, it was dead people that got back up again. Then, it was Daryl. After that, it was the desire and drive to be alone and work hard to better herself. Alexandria was next and it paved the way to her letting a select few people back into her cold and lonely life. Daryl appeared again after that and it just had to mean something. But he’d not shown up alone. The group of people around her turned up again too. Some of them were gone, replaced by new people but every one of them was undoubtedly loyal to the core.

Daryl agreed to keep her secret, to let her carry on living as she was. But he was right, she’d lied to him and after over a year of being alone, she knew she was no longer going to be able to deliver the apology he deserved. Instead, she would cease trying to say the words and use her actions to free him from the constraints of secrets and lies.

Her gaze lingered on Carl’s pleading face and try as she might, she could not ignore him.

She said nothing as she pulled her mask from her face and pushed her hood back.

Daryl was the first to notice her during one of his secret glances. He did a double take and realized that she wasn’t going to make him bear the burden of keeping such a huge secret from the people he cared about. Everyone was about to find out the truth and she felt her stomach grow heavy when he shoots her the most heartbreaking, confused and relieved look. She didn’t know if she could take seeing him cry again and so, hoped with everything she had that he would not do so in front of everyone else.

I wish you never left.

Carol’s eyes swept around the group, eventually landing on Jess. For a moment, she blinked and leaned to the side for a better view before her eyes grew wide and her hands flew up to her face.

“No…it can’t be.” She gasped

Faces turned to her, all of them, all at once. She felt like she was on a stage under spotlights, totally naked and being made to sing the national anthem. Not a shadow any longer, her name was being muttered between everyone.

“Jess?! Is that you?” Carol asked.

“Hi Carol.” Jess whispered.

“Oh my god!” She cried, slapping Daryl’s arm. “Daryl, It’s Jess!”

Daryl’s head was low, his eyes moving from the floor to her face intermittently. His expression was downcast but she could see a glimmer of gratitude when he looked at her.

“I know” He mumbled.

“Wait, you know?” Carol questioned.

“Found out this mornin’.” He told her.

Carol set off, weaving around Michonne and Rick, gently placing her hands on either side of Jess’s face. Her skin burned from the touch as if she was a demon being held by a priest. Physical contact was not something she was used to and she was still reeling from Daryl’s desperate and intense hug in the woods from hours before.

“Oh, Jess.” Carol says “look at you, you’re so different. So…so different.”

Jess didn’t speak, offering only a small smile before she shied away and stepped out of Carol’s embrace. Rick slowly walked around them, rubbing his chin and staring at her in disbelief.

“Hi, Sheriff.” She smiled at him.

“It was you, you helped us get out of Terminus. Helped with the dogs on the road. Got Aaron to bring us here?” He asked.

Jess nodded still feeling like a performing monkey and wanting to shrink away into the darkness and run back to her solitary home at the fairground. But she couldn’t get away, especially when Rick wrapped her in his arms, kissed the top of her head and held her there. She wanted to scream at the contact but appreciated his reason for doing so.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.” He uttered before releasing her. “My son, my daughter, all of us. We’re safer because of you.” She could feel her cheeks still burning and wondered if she was blushing or just extremely uncomfortable.

“I couldn’t just leave y’all out there.” She mumbled quietly.

The others presented their own greetings but kept their distance, having never met her officially before and Jess was grateful that she didn’t have to hug anyone else. Everyone swapped glances and Carol took a quick look over her shoulder at Daryl, who was looking at Jess with glassy eyes. He swiped at his nose with the back of his hand and turned on his heels, crashing into the house behind them and slamming the door in a mirror image of his exit in her dream.

“Where have you been?” Glenn wanted to know.

“Around.” She replied, her eyes briefly registering Carl, who was beaming at her from the steps of the front porch. Rick followed her gaze, noting the unsaid message that had passed between them.

Are you satisfied now, kid?!

“Did you know about this?” Rick asked Carl.

Carl shrugged “maybe.”

“Um…” Jess began after clearing her throat. “It wasn’t my intention to deceive anyone. I just want to be left alone. Regardless of how we know each other, the same rule applies. No one is to go near my property without my permission.” She said to Rick, who by now was hanging on every word and was totally shocked at the change in her. “If there’s any more trouble, you can signal me with a flare, just like tonight. They’re kept in the armory. Aside from that, I’d appreciate it if you all just… kept your distance and refrained from discussing my true identity with anyone else. The people here don’t know my name, where I’m from or anything about me. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course.” Rick agreed. “Thank you for your help tonight.”

“No problem. I’ll come back in the morning and help get rid of the bodies. Looks like hell with everyone out to lunch in here” She said, motioning to two lifeless Walkers at the side of the road. Then, she calmly walked away, raising her hood again and positioning her mask over her mouth.

* * * * * 

Inside the house, Carol found Daryl in the kitchen, braced against the kitchen counter at the sink with his head low and his hair obscuring his face. She sighed at the sight. Daryl rarely opened up to anyone and when he did, it was always her, the two of them having shared similar backgrounds and understanding what it was like to fight, even before the world went away. Carol understood his inner conflict like no one else and as a result, knew how to handle him when he was showing signs of lashing out or distancing himself from everyone.

His hasty and dramatic departure had been witnessed by the rest of the group and they all knew without having to be told that Carol would be the one to deal with the simmering archer. She moved further into the room, taking a glass from the cupboard and approaching him, reaching around him to access the tap. He moved off like an angry animal that was being disturbed in its lair. Carol filled the glass and brought it to her lips, grateful for the luxury of having running water after such a chaotic evening.  She could see he was reeling despite already having found out about Jess that morning. She observed him wander the length of the kitchen island before he stopped and met her eye. She offered him a sympathetic look.

“Quite the bombshell.” She pointed out.

“Yep.” He grunted, crossing his big arms over his chest.

“Especially for you. Are you alright? She wanted to know.

He didn’t know the answer to her question. He wasn’t sure if he was ‘alright’ or not. His head was still spinning and his chest was still tight, the confusion was still present and only worsened by her decision to tell the others the truth. He expected to have to carry the burden of such a huge secret for much longer and on the one hand he was grateful to her for him not having to endure it. But, on the other, he was furious at being lied to.

“I dunno.” He admitted honestly.

Carol took another sip from her glass and climbed up onto a stool at the island. She delicately placed the glass on the surface and kept her fingertips poised around it.

“Talk to me. Tell me how you feel.” She urged with the knowledge that unless she asked him directly, he was unlikely to disclose much at all. Since the beginning, there was no doubt that he was more forthcoming with his feelings, but he was still very much a closed book and unless he was encouraged in the right way, he would only retreat into himself until he boiled over at someone unsuspecting and undeserving.

“I’m pissed. I’m real fuckin’ pissed.” He confessed.

To her surprise, he also settled on a stool opposite her and leaned his elbows on the marble countertop with his hands clasped together. It was almost like he was telling her that he didn’t want to discuss it, but he needed to.

“Understandable.” She replied.

“But I’m happy she’s alive.” He continued “Seein’ her again…the way she is. It’s weird. She ain’t the same.”

Carol half smiled at his obvious observation of Jess’s evolution and his complete ignorance of his own. He had matured, developed a better handle on his temper, used his logic and intuition to help Rick make some tough decisions and earned the respect and trust of everyone in the group. She was proud of his journey and wished he could see it as she did.

“Neither are you. Neither are any of us.” She reminded him.

“You saw her.” He argued with the flick of one hand “She’s got Jess’s face but that’s it.”

“You don’t know that, Daryl. She’s protecting herself. She’s been doing that for a long time without us now. She might come around if you talk to her.” She suggested with a strong desire to see him try and build a bridge between them. It was no secret that he was devastated when Jess left the Quarry, his pain and determination to find her was plain for all to see and if there was even just a small chance that they could mend their tattered friendships, then she thought it was well worth it.

“Doubt it. She fuckin’ hates me” He scoffed.

“What? I’m sure that’s not true.” She expressed

“She lied to me for weeks, Carol. Weeks. She could have told me who she was. Instead, she acted like I was some stranger.”

His behavior was now considerably more subdued and his aggression was now translating to a sadness that Carol couldn’t stand to see. During a long pause in conversation which was more a chance for the both of them to collect their thoughts than anything else, Carol remembered the incident in the woods when Jess found herself at the end of a gun held by Daryl.

“No wonder she was so calm when you pointed that gun at her.” She mentioned.

“What d’ya mean?”

“She knows you. She knew you wouldn’t just shoot her like that. Not without a reason.” She concluded.

Daryl reached into his jeans pocket and retrieved his lighter. It clicked and clinked as he turned it over between his fingers, lighting it over and over as he attempted to clear his head. Carol watched on, growing slightly concerned when he began to run his fingers through the flames and letting them linger there a little too long.

“Daryl” She scolded lightly. His eyes shot up to hers and he flicked the lighter closed, enclosing it in his fist.

“Wish she never left” He muttered.

Carol proceeded with caution, now he was really talking and such an event couldn’t be forced or it would never present itself again. The conversation would be over and any chance she had at getting him to expel his real feelings would be long gone.

“Daryl, you know better than most that in his world, we adapt or we die. You and I adapted. Jess adapted, very well by what I can see. Give it time. Be patient. What is it that you want to say to her? What do you want her to know?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged.

“I do.” She smiled bravely, all the while hoping deep down that he would trust her enough to answer her. He peered at her through his hair, his eyes questioning exactly what she thought she knew, but she kept quiet and patiently sipped her drink.

“I dunno if I did somethin’…or didn't do somethin’ when I was ‘sposed to” He said, his voice barely a whisper. When she looked back at him, his eyes were cast down at the countertop between his forearms. “Liked havin’ her around, y’know? She just…made stuff easier. I aint no idiot, I know I was a shitty friend. But I thought about her every day since she bailed.”

There it was, what Carol had been waiting for. It wasn’t the precise words she knew he really meant, but it was as close as he was going to get and she had enough to work with.

“That girl meant something to you. We all saw how badly you took it when she left. You could have died looking for her. I might even be as bold as to suggest that you had feelings for her. Feelings that went beyond friendship and you just didn’t know it at the time. I think…” She trailed off, gauging his reaction which so far, was still collected and subdued. “…I think you should tell her that you missed her.”

“That ain’t gonna happen.” He quickly dismissed. A feat too tall for his withdrawn and quiet personality.

“It will. Like I said, give it time.” She remarked with a knowing smile. As he observed her confidence in her beliefs, the corner of his mouth quirked up at the thought of her always being right and how she reveled in it.

“Whatever.”

* * * * * 

Jess made herself scarce from Alexandria for the next two days after offering to fetch some supplies from the nearest town which boasted a large gardening store. She borrowed a truck and found that once she’d filled it with everything on Deanna's list, she had little desire to return anytime soon. She settled down on a luxurious, swinging chair with deep padding and enough room for her to stretch her legs and gently swayed from side to side, watching the high, industrial ceiling swing from left to right. Aside from two Walkers outside in the lot, the entire store was empty and the silence was only broken by the subtle squeak of the chair’s hinges.

The group knowing who she was did nothing to calm the rampant inferno of confusion that seemed to grow with each though of Daryl that passed through her mind and she was still conflicted, torn between hearing his side and ignoring him altogether. The look in his eyes, his intense embrace and the soul shattering whimper against her shoulder was urging her to try talking to him, but she didn’t know if there was a point or if she would ever be able to forgive him for proving her insecurities to be correct. She wasn’t anything to anyone, she was just a girl.

It was dark when she woke, her bones weary with the heaviness of sleeping during the day. She groaned and rubbed her eyes as she sat up. Her backpack contained items she wouldn’t be without no matter what the circumstances, one of those items was a flashlight. She quickly found it in the pitch-black bag and clicked it on, shining it around her, over the shelves and into the gaps between aisles. Luckily, she still appeared to be alone.

She got to her feet, flung her bag over her shoulder and headed for the smashed bottom pane in the main door. Ducking outside into the lot, she noticed the numbers of walkers had increased to around a dozen. She stilled before any of them saw her and slowly crept towards the waiting truck which was around 500 yards to her left.

Walkers acted like dominoes, when one noticed movement the rest tended to follow with a knock-on effect that could be catastrophic. The nearest walker to Jess, only a few feet away reached out and took hold of her backpack, slinging her backwards and colliding her with the asphalt. Her flashlight skittered over the ground and adrenaline shot through her. She quickly grabbed her knife from her belt as the Walker loomed over her, blobs of sticky, lumpy blood precariously hanging from its festering mouth like fruit from a tree. One of which dropped with a splat onto her forehead. She jabbed the blade at the Walkers head only to find that it appeared to dodge out of the way. It’s growls and bubbling throat and chest made her stomach flip and she rolled over, breaking free of its bony fingers on her shoulder and managing to scurry up onto one knee. It surged at her, snapping its jaws and dislodging a front tooth which rolled out and tinkled on the ground beside Jess’s knee.

“Ew” she breathed as she readied her knife again. With all her might she plunged the blade into its skull, surprised at how spongy it was. This one had to have been dead for a while, the longer they wandered around as corpses, the softer their bones became until eventually their limbs gave out and they had no choice but to crawl. The Walker dropped to reveal five more that were closing in on her. She scrambled backwards, the heels of her boots propelling her across two spaces of the lot.

Shit. Ohshitohshitohshit.

She leapt up and scooped up her flashlight just in time to avoid the grasp of more undead fingers while she dashed to the truck, throwing open the door and climbing inside, finally able to put a barrier between her and the Dead ones.

Jess could handle herself but being in such close proximity to walking mounds of rotten flesh still gave her chills. Especially when she considered that they used to be just like her. With working lungs and hearts and brains. With families and friends and lovers. Ok, maybe not exactly like her but five out of six wasn’t bad. It was sad, but it also made her nauseous and she was certain that if she was ever cursed with the trauma of being bitten, she would sooner shoot herself in the head than become one of them.

She started the truck to the sound of the Walkers hammering on the glass and groaning at her. She put the vehicle in gear, flipped them the bird and raced off into the night.

* * * * * 

Not a lot of things were convenient in the apocalypse. Food was scarce, as were weapons, ammo and medicine. The seasons were harsh and Walkers roamed all of the potentially fruitful spots for supplies. Humans were becoming more depraved and even more dangerous than the dead and those that failed to evolve with the harsh changes of the world, perished. No, nothing was convenient, except Daryl being on gate duty just as Jess rolled through in her truck filled with gardening supplies.

Two days had passed and he’d not seen a hint of her since she’d revealed her identity to the group. Carol’s words stayed with him, her suggestion that he should try and talk to her, give it time and she might come around. He was mad at her, there was no question about that. But, more than anything, he just wanted some answers.

He closed the gate behind her as she climbed from the truck, her mask and hood were up but he could make out blood smeared on her face and his chest swelled with concern. Now he knew who she was, he couldn’t help but care no matter how much he didn’t want to.

“Hey.” He called out as he approached her. She leaned against the closed door of the truck and fiddled with her gloves, tugging them off and stuffing them in her pocket. He noticed in the light of the solar bulbs that lined the street that the knife he’d given her was also coated in dark blood and had stained her tight, faded, black jeans. She looked up at him over her hood, her blue eyes meeting his. “Y’alright?” He asked as he motioned to the smeared blood on her forehead.

“Yeah. Just Walkers.” She dismissed casually.

He nodded, temporarily glancing at the ground while he thought out how out of the blue his questions might sound. But she was there, in front of him in the middle of the night with no one else around. If he was going to ask, now was as good a time as any.

“Where ya been, Jess?”

“At the Garden store a few miles west.” She mumbled back. He didn’t notice until he raised his vision but she was checking over a list in her hand.

“I mean before. When ya bailed.” He corrected.

Jess’s eyes lifted and she side glanced at him, looking him up and down and wondering why he’d decided to ask her such questions there and then.

“Around” she replied, the same, standard answer she’d offered the others. She pushed herself from the trucks door and wandered around the side, rummaging through the full flatbed and checking things against the list.

“Why won’t ya talk to me? Ain’t seen ya in, what…over a year?” He asked sadly. His voice sent guilt through her heart like a spear and she fought not to cry again.

“Eighteen months” she corrected. “And I don’t know what you want me to say.” She turned to head back to the truck cab but he stepped in, blocking her path. She huffed in irritation and stared at the toes of her boots.

“Get out of my way.” She uttered.

“Take the mask off.” He requested. “Please.”

“No.” She refused.

“Ain’t nobody here. Just you n’ me. Take the mask off. Just for a minute.”

He needed to see her, needed to be able to see that it really was Jess he was talking to because everything about her screamed that she’d discarded her old life and personality entirely. Little did he know that she was still there, deep down, terrified of exposure and rejection. She agreed that he deserved an explanation, she just wasn’t sure if she was up to offering one at that point. She needed space and time to think things over and decide what she wanted. Being forced to communicate was only making her more anxious. But what she could do, was afford him this one small request. She moved her mask down to her neck and peered up at him. His face seemed to soften at the sight of her own and she saw his shoulders drop.

“Why’d you go?” He croaked.

It was akin to the moment he’d whimpered against her shoulder. Emotional, sincere and hurt. She wasn’t expecting it and it hit her like a train. She needed to leave before she broke down and she resented him for it. For a year and a half she’d learned to stop crying, that crying got a person nowhere when she had no choice but to suck it up and carry on and in the last week all she’d done was cry. That was Daryl’s fault.

“I can’t talk about this right now.” She whispered.

“But you will, right?” He asked

“I don’t know.” She pulled her mask back up. “Please, step aside.”

“Jess-“

“-Get out of my fucking way.” She spat, her eyes filling with anger.

Shocked and frustrated, he simply moved to one side and let her storm past him and get back into the truck where she held back tears until she was far enough along the road and around a corner to let them escape.

* * * * * 

When morning came around once more, Jess walked through the gate carrying a plethora of small animals and the key for the truck she’d borrowed the day before. After dropping the animals off at the pantry, she made tracks to Deanna's front steps where, to her surprise she found Carol sitting at the porch table with a plate of cookies on the surface in front of her. Jess paused when she noticed her, mid way up the steps and awkwardly positioned before she carried on and slowed when she reached the door. Carol’s face was displaying a bright smile as she slid the plate from the table and held it out.

“Cookie?”

Jess hadn’t seen a decent looking cookie in a very long time and her stomach, although reasonably full from breakfast, vibrated slightly at the thought. She almost accepted before she remembered that enjoying that simple pleasure would mean removal of her mask and the potential for passers by to see her.

Clever. She thought. But not clever enough.

“No, thank you.” She politely declined. “What are you doing here?”

“Just got out of a very nice meeting with Deanna. She told me to come and go as I please, so I’m doing just that. Care to join me?” She said breezily.

Her manner was a little too happy for Jess’s liking and she immediately became suspicious of some kind of trap.

“I can’t. I have shit to-“

“Oh, just sit down, Jessica.” Carol scolded through her teeth.

Feeling like a child that had thrown a tantrum and been told off using her full first name, Jess sheepishly sank down into a chair. Even though curiosity had killed the cat, it had got the better of her this time. Across the street, Daryl approached Rick who was busy hauling fertilizer around the vegetable patch. Jess looked up and clocked his presence, quickly diverting her eyes and licking her lips at the plate of cookies instead. They appeared tinted red and purple and she wondered what could possibly be in them to turn them that color. Berries of some kind?

Cherry, maybe? Mmm, Cherries.

“He said you won’t talk to him.” Carol blurted out but with a quiet confidence that snapped Jess out of her food daydream.

OK, we’re really going to sit here and talk about this?!

“I don’t have anything to say to him.” She retorted.

“Jess, you were best friends.” Carol reminded her which only served to prod at her temper and she sprang up from her seat, slapping a hand on the glass tabletop.

“Were we?!” She hissed, “Where was he when I needed him? Hmm?”

Carol was taken aback but such an aggressive turn in Jess, but wasn’t afraid. She’d evolved just as much as the woman before her and was sure that if pushed she could be just as cold and distant herself.

“He’s different now. Just like you. It’s like he was a child before… now, he’s a man.” She noticed Jess glance over her shoulder at Daryl, who was now helping rick by carrying a heavy bag of soil over his shoulder. When she moved her gaze back to the porch, her eyes fell back onto the table and to the plate of cookies. “Give him a chance. You’ll see he’s changed. Please.” Carol added.

“It’s complicated. You don’t know anything about it. I appreciate what you’re trying to do but you’re wasting your time. It’s not just black and white and I’ve worked hard to keep my life as simple and pain free as possible and what have you put in those cookies to make them go that color?”

Carol was confused, her train of thought thrown off with Jess’s bizarre question.

“Uh… beets.” She stammered.

“Huh. Beets. Right.” Jess replied. She reached out, took a cookie and in a split second she had vanished into Deanna's house.  

Standing in the empty hallway with her back to the front door, she closed her eyes and exhaled slowly. She knew in her heart that she had to face him at some point. They were practically neighbors with her fairground abode less than a mile away and their similar skills meaning they were bound to be put together for hunting, supply runs and the like by Deanna. Jess didn’t really know what to do past hiding in her home and burying her head in the sand, but she was smart enough to accept that civility might be the least that could be expected of her. She had no plans to pick up a friendship ever again, her solitary lifestyle proving more than ideal both for her physical safety and her emotional stability. But the sting of loneliness succeeded in distracting her during dark, cold nights and every single time she thought of Daryl. Maybe if she just spoke to him and tried to clear the air, things would be easier overall.

* * * * * 

Daryl had just passed Judith back to her father after a brief spell of her sitting on his knee and looking utterly compelled by everything he said to her. He told her about his first truck, how his brother had taught him to fish and drink shooters for hours in bars. He told her that one day, if Rick would let him, he’d teach her to fish too. He figured that hunting information was a little too much for a soul so young and figured he would leave it until she was at least old enough to hold a crossbow without falling over before he taught her how to kill a deer.

It was becoming a nightly habit. He would sit quietly with Judith and think about the day. Sometimes he’d read to her, sometimes he’d just talk quietly. He knew it was more than he would ever say to any adults, but Judith didn’t judge or answer back. She listened with such interest that he sometimes wondered if she would remember what he told her when she grew up. He liked having a kid around. Carl was getting older and more independent, thinking he knew everything yet still being vulnerable enough to need looking after. He was at an age where he could easily repeat things he heard, but Judith didn’t.

He lit a cigarette and reclined in the squeaky chair and watched the smoke expelled from his lungs billowing up into the night. The stars were out, bright and twinkling. If it wasn’t for the snarling beyond the walls from the nightly encroachment of Walkers, it would have been a peaceful and visually appealing night.

He was halfway through his smoke when movement in the night caught his eye and he did a double take at Jess, who stood at the bottom of the porch stairs with her hood and mask up. Her eyes glistened under the light of the single bulb which flowed above the door. She seemed to manifest out of nowhere and by that point, he’d figured that it was one of her most honed skills. She was silent as the night, until she wasn’t and that was only when it suited her.

“Hi” She said quietly at the same time as fiddling with her fingers and dropping her gaze.

“Hey.” He grunted.

Daryl wondered what she was even doing in the same proximity as him, but he wasn’t about to ask. He considered Carol’s advice once more and decided he may as well give in to his curiosity and see what she was doing at the foot of the steps to his house after dark.

“Do you have a minute?” She asked.

“What’s it look like?” He snapped without thinking. When the words left his lips, he immediately regretted the tone, hearing it laced with anger and bitterness. “I mean, I ain’t exactly busy. Have a seat.” He corrected his inconvenienced emphasis and nudged his head up at the empty seat across the table from him.

She hesitated, one foot on a journey to accept his invitation and the other rooted to the ground. Telling herself she wouldn’t have to stay long anyway, she accepted and slipped into the seat.

“There’s something I should tell you.” She started. His eyes lifted from the now almost finished cigarette between his fingers. “I found Merle in Atlanta.”

He glared at her. She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. His brother told him where she was. His message through Michonne urged Daryl to go to the City and find Jess. It said more than that too, but he was not about to let on that Merle had given away anything other than her location.

“I know.” He responded bluntly.

“He found you,” she stated with a nod of understanding.

“Yeah. He found me.” He echoed.

Merle obvious absence spoke volumes, as did Daryl’s downcast expression at the mere mention of his brother’s name. He wasn’t there for the same reason some of the others from the Quarry were absent.

“I’m sorry, about whatever happened to him.” She offered sincerely.

“Don’t be. Ain't your fault” he told her. He stubbed out his smoke in a glass dish in the centre of the table. His snappy demeanour apparently vanishing as fast as the smoke in the air.

She felt the need to explain how she’d found him, for some reason thinking that information volunteered would somehow make things easier for him. It was still there, she still cared about him.

“I found him in a camping store in the city. Almost bled out. Delirious.” She began “Took him in and stitched him up. He always said he would leave when he could, to find you. He wasn’t the best house guest and he certainly had no manners.”

He raised an eyebrow before sucking his bottom lip into his mouth and nibbling on it.

“Ya didn’t have to help him.”

“Couldn’t just walk away and let him die.” She admitted. “I knew how much he meant to you.”

The last part of her sentence was unintentional and she’d aimed to think it instead of actually say it. But there it was, as plain as day. If he didn’t know she cared about him before, he certainly did now.

“Thank you” He expressed as he tried to make eye contact. Jess avoided his attempt and swallowed hard, staring down into her lap.

“No problem.” She whispered.

A long silence proceeded to engulf them both in an almost unbearable awkwardness that felt like a lifetime when it was merely a few minutes. Jess remembered the days when they could sit side by side in quiet understanding without having to fill the gaps with unnecessary chit chat. So unbearable was it that Jess was seconds away from springing up from her seat and leaving.  

“He told me where to find ya.” Daryl informed her.

“Huh. Of course, he did.” Jess scoffed knowingly.

“Said I should go after ya. I found your apartment. Why the city?” He wanted to know.

She realized there and then that he went out of his way to track her down in the city from Merles information. She knew he might, but knowing he actually did still surprised her and made her question everything she thought to be true. It was months between Merle leaving and Jess abandoning her apartment, even longer since she left the quarry camp. She couldn’t be sure if he got her note or not, but he was definitely looking for her after a considerable amount of time had passed.

“Um, well… all the people left, so it belongs to the Walkers now. Learn how to deal with them, use them to your advantage and the city is your oyster. Everybody leaves so suddenly; it means there’s supplies everywhere. Eventually, a group came through that I didn’t like the look of, so I left and stayed in the woods. Lived on a boat for a while. Then, I found the fairground.”

It was the most she’d said to him since she appeared in his life again and the sound of her voice through her mask was so different it was like talking to a stranger. She’d not only felt the need to hide her voice, she was also hiding her personality, her sense of humor and the essence of who she really was. That was, if there was anything left.

“You can fight now. How’d ya get so good?” He asked.

She wasn’t expecting to still be sitting with him at all, let alone having to answer questions. But he was probing for a good reason, she was aware that he was interested in her time away and how far she’d come. She just didn’t think he cared enough to ask about it.

“I can fight Walkers.” She corrected, making him aware that she wasn’t proficient in the art of grappling with live humans. “It was me and them, for a long time. A city full of wandering corpses makes for great practice. Then there’s the hunting and general survival skills I knew I had to have if I were ever forced to move out of Atlanta. There’s a lot of reading material in abandoned bookstores. I learned a lot while I was there.” She explained, hazarding a small glimpse of him and seeing his eyes dragging over her clothing and weapons.

“Turned up lookin like Rambo too.” he mentioned.

Now, she looked at him properly, their eyes meeting across her mask. He hadn’t changed much, not that she could see. He was more mature, more grounded but still Daryl. Still with the same sense of toeing the line and making fun of her. She found herself trying not to laugh, holding back a huge part of herself that just rushed out when she saw the corner of his mouth quirk up.

“Can kick your ass like Rambo if you don’t find someone more feminine to liken me to.” She quipped.

His lips curled further into a smile and behind her mask, Jess fought not to mirror him.

“Still got ya attitude” he pointed out.

It was news to her. Apparently, she did and he was the one to bring it out in her

“You still have yours too.” She shot back as she got up and walked back to the steps, her heavy boots clunked along the wooden flooring and she struck quite the intimidating figure, but Daryl knew the girl inside and he hoped that some semblance of her was still there.

“Goodnight” she uttered as she descended the steps and walked off into the darkness.

“Night, Jess.”

Now, he could use her name. The girl under the disguise.  

* * * * * 

Glenn perched on the trucks hood, picking berries from a tree branch and shoving them into his mouth. He wasn’t taking a risk, Daryl had been forthcoming with ensuring the group only ate what he said was safe, and everything in moderation. Jess leaned against the wheel arch with a map open in her hands after traipsing through an entire town looking for Veterinary Hospital that didn’t seem to exist. Their fruitless trip so far had been nothing but a major inconvenience.

“You sure you saw it?” She pressed as she craned her back at him and held a hand above her eyes to shield them from the sun.

“A hundred percent. I just can’t remember where.” Glenn confessed as he threw the last of the berries into his mouth and threw the stick away.

“Helpful.” Jess murmured. “I’ve never ventured out this way before. Too many people, not enough animals.”

Glenn squinted down at her as she flapped the map in her hands, straightening its corners.

“People?” He asked

“Undesirables.” She murmured. “We have to be careful.”

“Oh. Sure.”

She circled an area of the map with her finger, mainly to herself and only half interested in Glenn’s attention. “Should check here. It’s the only area we haven’t covered in a five-mile radius. It’s got to be there.”

Glenn agreed and began checking over his gun, making sure it was fully loaded. Jess turned her body and leaned her elbows on the hood, re-strapping her gloves and pushing her hood down for the time being. With it only being the two of them, her worries about revealing herself were now non-existent and Glenn knowledge of who she was had given her a huge sense of relief. Being able to go on a run without the worry of him figuring her out was a new and enjoyable kind of peace.

“Where did y’all go? When you left the Quarry?” she asked out of the blue.

He hesitated before answering her, the answer backing up in mind as he rifled through all the things that they’d been through since the Quarry, the people they’d lost and the terrible ways they’d died. It wasn’t easy and sometimes he wondered how they’d got so far but over time and through their shared trauma, they’d become a family. He’d become something else too, one half of a pair with Maggie. The woman of his dreams and he couldn’t help but smile when he remembered how she’d propositioned him in the middle of an abandoned store and ever since their relationship had grown into something he never would have anticipated.

“We tried the CDC. That was a disaster.” He said “One guy left and he blew himself and the building to pieces. Then we stayed on the Greene’s farm. Maggie’s dad owned it. Herd came through, pushed us out of there. Then, we ended up at a prison. We were there for a while. Until some psycho came along and tried to take the place. A lot of people died. We all got split up and that’s how we were reunited…in the worst way, at Terminus.”

Jess held his gaze for a few moments as she contemplated how their numbered had depleted but were replaced by new faces and yet they were still such a tight-knit group. She figured they had Rick to thank for that after witnessing the way he led his people through the gate of Alexandria for the first time with Daryl at his side.

“You guys have been through a lot” She stated.  

“Guess we have, Yeah.” He agreed thoughtfully. “But then again, everybody has, right? You have too.”

Jess didn’t think she’d fought anywhere near the kinds of battles Rick’s group appeared to have survived. She wasn’t without her own difficult memories, but most of those consisted of being alone and having to adapt to fighting Walkers and avoiding detection by other survivors. She’d faced more of an internal war than a physical one, born out of using stealth and cunning to avoid having to engage in actual fighting any more than was necessary. When she did kill the living, it was inevitable and got shoved to one side to enable her to carry on with life at the end of the world.

“Not really.” She disagreed “Keeping out of sight was how I lasted this long. Can’t be robbed, raped or killed if nobody knows you exist.”

“What if you’re discovered by chance?” Glenn argued.

She met his eye, a knowing look exchanged between the two of them. It didn’t need to be voiced that both of them were forced to do things they would never be proud of.

“Then you do what you have to do” She uttered.

Glenn nodded sadly before attempting a risky move.

“Why did you run? From the Quarry” he questioned.

She knew she would face such a question from nearly all of them at some point, her assumption was that it would be Daryl that was the first to ask had been correct, but Glenn being next happened a little quicker than she thought. What she hadn’t quite decided on, was how she was going to answer it. Should she be completely honest, or sugar coat the truth and skirt around the real reasons? She felt overwhelmed, pushed out, betrayed and like she was a mere burden that would never fit in.

“A lot of reasons.” She mumbled. “I ran away to save myself. I needed to lose who I was”

A spell of silence passed between them as Glenn tried to make sense of her response. Jess could feel his disagreement as if it were a weight on her shoulders. He shuffled closer on the hood and slid his gun back into its holster. A loud sigh was followed by a quick scan of the area they were parked in. All still quiet and safe enough.

“The people you loved that are gone…they helped to make you who you are. If you lose that, you lose the last bit of them that’s still around inside, who you are is gone…but so are they.” He told her, feeling her eyes locked on him, her brow furrowed as if surprised by his sudden philosophical take on things. “It’s how you lose people all over again, even after they’re gone. You honor them by carrying on, because they don’t get to”

The conversation was veering into a territory that Jess was no longer comfortable with. She didn’t want to be forced to stare her decisions in the face and dissect her train of thought and reasons for arriving at them. While she couldn’t say that Glenn was wrong, the idea that she’d lost everyone she’d loved for good due to her own actions wasn’t one she wanted to entertain. They were still there, in her heart, in her soul. Or were they?

“So, Carol got split from everyone else?” She queried, shamelessly changing the subject.

“Actually no. She was already on the outside on her own for a while. I’ll let Rick or Carol explain it themselves one day. Along with everything else that happened at the prison. But let’s just say we really appreciate what you two did. That place… was like nothing I’ve ever seen before.” He mused, the flicker of fear in his eyes evident upon his reminiscence of his time at Terminus.  “I couldn’t stand the thought of Maggie dying in that hell hole. I’m glad it was me they almost killed. She didn’t deserve to go through that.” He added.

Jess said nothing, too wrapped up in the thought of being so in love and attached to someone that you would die to save their life. It was a completely alien concept to her, except for the likes of her family, she wasn’t sure there would ever be anyone else she would risk her life for. Then, she remembered the time she spent following Daryl through the woods with a group of men she didn’t trust one, single ounce, the people she murdered inside Terminus and the ferocity of her rage which she used to demand his whereabouts. She refused to leave until she knew he was safe and then it occurred to her; she would have died at Terminus. She would have died for Daryl.

“Where’d you get all the gear? The body armor. Looks like high-grade stuff.” Glenn interrupted, scattering her revelatory thoughts.

“Uh…” She grunted, having to take a deep breath and ignore the fact that she’d just discovered the actual extent of her fondness for the man that broke her heart. “Mostly dead Cops and Soldiers. Needed a little cleaning up here and there. Found some stuff in gun stores too, most were picked clean but one or two had the good stuff strapped to the dead owners”

“Nice. It looks good.” He smiled.

“Thanks, but It’s not about how it looks. It’s got to be practical. I can move around and none of it makes a sound. So, I can hunt and travel undetected and still remain nothing but a shaded movement in somebody’s peripheral vision. If anything bites me, it’s got to have pretty sharp teeth to break the barrier too.” She informed him with a certain degree of pride in herself. It was trial and error, endless days testing fabric and different levels of armor using sharp objects and creeping around groups of Walkers.

“We could really use this kind of thing for runs. Think you could find more?” he asked

“Probably.” She shrugged. “One thing at a time though. Let’s get this equipment first.”

He slithered down from the hood and slapped the surface with a grin as he rounded the truck and climbed into the driver’s seat. Jess settled beside him and frowned when he pressed ‘play’ on the CD player. Music filled the cab and she rolled her eyes, looking out at the rapidly passing houses on the side of the street.

* * * * * 

Despite their conversation on the porch of his house, Daryl’s efforts to engage Jess in any more conversation in the coming days fell victim to her insistence to be left alone. He grew more and more frustrated with every instance that he witnessed her chatting away carelessly to others. She still laughed with Abraham and even joined him on gate duty. Aaron was treated to discussions while sat on the wall outside of the armory and even Glenn earned himself an enthusiastic handshake and some kind of mocking dig that couldn’t be heard upon returning from a run with her one evening. It seemed everyone else but Daryl was allowed to be around her and it angered him so much that one night, he decided that he needed to do something about it.

After seeing her playfully slap Abraham’s big arm as they spoke at the side of the road, she bid him farewell and ambled slowly to the gate, nodding at the guard. It was early evening and the sun was going down, the time of year dictating that one minute it was light and the next, flashlights were needed to light the way and the rapid change was almost unnoticeable. The sky glowed with pinks and purples and small birds were still singing in the trees when Daryl dashed out of the gap in the gate and surged after Jess.

She walked slowly, adjusting her bow on her back and calmly glancing around at her surroundings. She liked this time of the day, much like the early morning’s it always seemed to be peaceful and still no matter what horrors were unfolding across the world. It was a nice escape, even if it was only temporary. Her boots crunched over the dirt and she began to hum tunefully to herself. A Beatles song.

“Jess”

Daryl’s voice shot out of the serenity like an arrow and shattered her illusions of an enjoyable walk back to her home. She huffed, her jaw clenching and her body turning to him slowly.

“What do you want, Daryl? Just leave me alone.” She sighed.

His trespassing into her alone time was akin to him walking right into the fairground and making himself at home in her eyes. She had admitted who she was and now she just wanted to be allowed to observe things from the fence without getting involved with anyone or anything that would mean anchoring herself emotionally. But Daryl quite obviously had other ideas and wasn’t satisfied with her terms.

“Why you gotta be such a bitch, huh?!” He snapped.

She shifted her weight and crossed her arms, looking him dead in the eye.

We’re name-calling. Mature. There’s the old Daryl.

“I am being perfectly fucking civil.” She replied mockingly, a sarcastic smile emerging on her lips behind her mask. It occurred to Daryl that if he couldn’t see her face, he couldn’t judge her reactions to be truthful.

“Take it off.” He demanded, gesturing with a hand to her face.

“No.” She refused.

“Take the mask off.” He tried once more.

“Why?” She asked.

“You n’ I, we’re gonna have a conversation and I ain’t talkin’ to no mask. Don’t make me take it off myself ‘cause I will n’ you know it”

Aggression and testing her resolve were fast becoming the only way he could get through to her and get her to comply and he wondered when she developed such a strong will and courage to rival his own. If he was honest with himself, her bravery impressed him regardless of it being so far from the Jess he used to know. She needed it to stay alive and it seemed to be serving her well, even though it meant they locked horns.

Jess gave in and opted to endure whatever he wanted to talk about mainly because she wanted it over with, but also because there was a different side to her story that she was interested in hearing. She flicked her mask down with one swift movement while the rest of her body stood completely rigid and angry. Her vision was narrowed, her eyes dark and unimpressed.

“What the hell happened to you? We were friends and now ya won’t even look at me.” He asked.

She moved closer, standing inches from his face and not showing an ounce of fear. She was defensive but challenging and he wanted to step back and observe this drastic change in her properly. She was no longer a shrinking violet, her confidence in the face of confrontation had come out of nowhere. The Jess from before would have said her piece but backed right off. This woman had a grudge and Daryl knew now that he was at the center of it.

Jess spoke clearly and deliberately her eyes not wavering from his for even a second.

“I was ‘just a girl’. I didn't mean shit to you’. Isn’t that right, Daryl?” She hissed

A flashback hit him like a bus. He was standing with Merle on the slope to the water back at the Quarry. It was dark, he could hear the waves lapping against the shore. Merle was mocking him for catching feelings. He rubbished his claims with a single sentence. One that unbeknownst to him at the time, Jess heard every word and it changed everything. Destroyed something good, something meaningful. Something he missed everyday.

She heard me. Shit. I didn’t mean it. I didn’t mean what I said.

He stepped away from her, sighing loudly and rubbing his eyes with his thumb and finger on one hand. Jess seethed in front of him, her hurt and pain now simmering just under the surface after the words being repeated for the first time. It all came rushing back, all the old feelings of being rejected and lied to.

“That’s what this is about?” He asked quietly.  

“Don’t you dare trivialize it.” She warned with a slight tremor in her voice. Her emotions were boiling over and cracks in her defenses were beginning to show.

“I’m ain’t…. I’m-I’m not” he quickly assured her, lifting one hand and showing her his palm in surrender.

She felt as though she would burst with all the things she wanted him to know. She wanted him to feel the betrayal and sadness she’d endured for himself, to have to live with it festering in the back of his mind like she had. Her bottom lip quivered and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“You broke my goddamn heart.” She whispered shakily.

Both of them froze at the sound of her admission. It wasn’t exactly something she wanted him to know but there it was anyway, the truth about how she felt, floating in the air between them. The air left Daryl’s lungs and his shoulders lowered. He dropped his vision, unable to look at the broken expression on her features.

She couldn’t hide it any longer, a single, salty tear flittered down her cheek and she whirled around, striding into what was now a thick darkness lit only by the moon. She was shrouded in black, protected by the night but the emotional exposure was kicking her anxiety into gear and meant she had to depart, to run away and go back to where she felt safe. She knew the way to the fairground even if she was blinded by the lack of light. It was like someone clicked their fingers and she was teleported to her destination, the route to her home a complete blur of tears and sniffles. She fumbled with the chain and lock on the gate, pausing to click on a hanging, LED light that bumped against the fence post. Her heart jumped in her chest when a hand wrapped around her wrist and she flinched away, seeing that Daryl had somehow followed her without her noticing. So wrapped up had she been in her own tears, that she’d made it home without a single care for the dangers that might be surrounding her.

“Wait. Please.” He requested, stepping under the light on the fence.

In her other hand, she still grasped the lock on the gate. It rattled when she let go and swallowed hard.  

“I didn’t mean what I said to him.” He said sincerely. “Ya know what he was like. I just wanted to shut him up”

She licked her lips, tasting the tang of her tears and roughly wiped at her face with the sleeve of her jacket.

“You didn’t defend me either.” She told him. Her voice was now akin to a pathetic whimper and she detested the sound of her own vulnerability. “If we were supposed to be friends, if I actually meant anything to you, you would have stood up for me when that fucking airhead started reading my journal. Because we both know I was not in a position to do that myself. I needed you and you walked away.”

He nodded in understanding and Jess thought he might have been expecting to hear such a thing.

“I know. M’sorry.” He said, stepping closer to her. She backed up.

“Right. Sure.” Came her sarcastic reply, her walls still raised and Daryl’s apology doing little to knock them down. It was going to take a lot for her to trust anyone again, let alone him.

She struggled with the lock, finally releasing it and noisily hauling the gate open. She stepped inside and slammed it, clicking the lock back into place and walking away. To her surprise, it began to rain. Small raindrops splattering long the path and gently playing a rhythm on the top of her hood.

“I let ‘em die.” He called out. “Both of em.”

She halted and peered over her shoulder at him, his fingers were threaded through the fence. To his credit, she couldn’t deny that he was trying more than she ever would have guessed. His determination to pursue her and make her listen was obvious. She knew exactly who he was referring to.

“How many people you killed, Jess?” he questioned.

She lowered her head and took a deep breath, not wanting to answer the question. It wasn’t something she thought should be a part of regular conversation unless absolutely necessary. Taking another human beings’ life was no menial task, nor was it something to be discarded like it didn’t matter. It was a huge deal, especially to Jess. But she kept the details and numbers locked away where they couldn’t play on her conscience too much.

“Wouldn’t be alive right now if ya hadn’t killed somebody and I know you must have put down a lot of them assholes at Terminus.” He reasoned, still gripping the fence and refusing to budge.

“Then there’s your answer.” She grunted. “A lot”

“Yeah. Me too. Those two girls? They were the first.” He revealed.

She needed to hear it. They were dead, that much didn’t need to be explained. But she wanted to know the how’s and why’s. She slowly wandered back to the gate.

“Merle told me you almost shot Sarah in the face.” She mumbled.

“Yeah. I really wanted to” he huffed “But… there was kids watchin’, y’know? Before that, before ya left, I took her to the woods and threatened to slit her throat if she bothered ya again. Didn’t know that, did ya?”  

She didn’t know, she had no idea but managed to keep her shock well hidden. Her eyes only flickering up to his.

“In the end…I watched ‘em get bit and I did nothin’ ‘cause I fuckin’ hated what they did to you. I know I was a shitty friend. But I wasn’t lyin’ when I said I just don’t have friends. I always been kind of a loner ‘cept for when I was with Merle.”

“You were ashamed of me.” She pointed out

“What?! That’s bullshit.” He exclaimed in disbelief.

She stepped closer to where he stood beyond the fence, the light illuminating them both from above enough for them to be able to read each other’s expressions.

“As soon as people started making fun of you being around me, you closed up like a clam and treated me like I was some kind of fly that just followed you around. God forbid you’d be seen with… what was it that Merle called me? Oh, that’s right, the ‘little, fat chick!’.” She explained with regret.

“Oh, c’mon, Jess!” He cried, frustration etched onto his features as he leaned closer to the fence, urging her to believe him.

“Tell me I’m wrong!” She shot back, silencing him. “Right. Because I’m not, am I?!”

He suddenly slammed both of his hands against the metal links on the barrier between them, sending a shockwave along the structure. Jess jumped slightly and moved back.

“Two weeks!” He yelled with no regard for the danger he might be attracting from the woods “I looked for you for two god damn weeks and they all wanted to move on n’ forget ya like ya never mattered!” His breathing had changed and she noticed that he was almost panting, his chest rising and falling rapidly. “WELL, YA MATTERED TO ME!” He yelled at her with another slam of his hands. She merely blinked but could feel the heaviness of tears building behind her eyes again. “I told ‘em, I said I wasn’t doing shit for none of ‘em until I found you.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out a brown, crumpled piece of paper, unfolding it and slapping it against the fence. “Instead, I found your stupid note and I fuckin’ kept it! So, don’t you dare tell me I was ashamed of you!”

She cursed herself internally for being unable to quash the need to cry. She hadn’t cried in over a year, having learned to push her emotions away and carry on. Now, she’d hardly stopped and she hated every single second. His confession regarding her note and his actions after her departure had changed everything. She was wrong. She had been wrong for so long. He did care about her after all and it was like they’d swapped roles. He didn’t know how to show it at the time. Now, she had more in common with him than ever. He had opened up to her and shown her a side to him that she didn’t know was there. He’d more than proved he cared and she felt more guilty than ever. It was too much to take in, to be able to stand before him and keep composed and so she quickly vanished into the Diner, leaving him standing alone in the rain with her creased note clutched in his hand.  

* * * * * 

Eric and Aaron's place was the perfect show home, straight out of an interior decorating convention and cleaner than a surgical suite. Jess was often reluctant to touch anything for fear of leaving a fingermark and being banished. Eric and Aaron didn’t mind, of course, having welcomes Jess into their home with open arms and not once mentioning any house rules or cleanliness standards to be followed. She used the place like a hotel but was always grateful for their hospitality and the free rein to come and go as she pleased. She was also pretty sure that no other residents of Alexandria made spaghetti quite like them.

She stayed at the Diner for the next two days, eventually emerging and resuming her hunting and clearing duties only to find that Daryl had covered for her in both areas. The walls were clear and there was meat in the pantry. Feeling useless and still lumbered with emotions, she threw Daryl a split-second peep where he stood by the armory and raced to the other side of the street, letting herself into Aaron and Eric’s living room and slumping down onto their couch. Aaron ticked off a crossword in a wildly outdated newspaper on the opposite couch and peered at her over the broadsheet, observing her troubled body language; fiddling hands and constant sighing. She presented in such a way that he had never seen from her before. She was anxious.

He lowered the paper and zoned in on the only visible and readable part of her, her eyes. Stunned by what he was witnessing, he gradually discarded his newspaper and crept closer to her, eventually sitting on the coffee table in front of her. She looked up and he could practically feel the sadness seeping from her pores.

“OK…I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cry.” He whispered.

“It’s a rare occurrence.” She sniffed. “Not happened in over a year. Now it’s like a fucking floodgate that I can’t close.” She stated plainly. While her eyes were watering, her breathing hadn’t changed, creating a strange and blank air around her.  It was a very odd sight for Aaron to comprehend.

“Are you here because you want to talk about it?” He pressed with a genuine desire to help. He wanted her to say yes and tried to urge her by shifting closer and waiting patiently.

“I don’t know.” She said under her breath.

“Look, I know you don’t trust anyone. But you’ve been staying in this house on and off for weeks now. You and I, we get along well. You can tell me, maybe I can help.” He tried.

Apparently, all Jess needed was a friendly face that wasn’t connected to Daryl to expel the contents of her mind to. She spent the next hour telling Aaron everything, right from the Quarry and up until that very day. She explained how her and Daryl used to be good friends and were torn apart by a number of factors, namely his mixed signals and her overthinking. At the suggestion from Aaron that her self-esteem played a part in it, a further door was opened in her head; he was completely right and it made her feel even more guilty for harboring such a huge grudge for so long. She expressed a need to make things right, but not to get too close and Aaron agreed, stating that while he thought it a good idea for now, she would not be wrong to let her guard down and give him another chance. Throughout their conversation, she cried more than once and was comforted by understanding and empathy. But when he reached out to hold her hand, she snatched it away and recoiled in discomfort. Aaron knew then not to push her too much, her refusal to remove her mask was also another telling factor that while she trusted him enough to accept his help, her face would remain behind a disguise that she used as a safety net.

“Sorry. I don’t do so well with the touching thing”. She told him.

It was the first time she’d trusted anyone with anything since Daryl at the quarry. She trusted him with her life and was left feeling like he’d lied to her. She hoped Aaron would not do the same and that his advice would help to mend the broken shards of what was left of her shattered friendship and she and Daryl could at least speak to each other without the past looming over them.

“What are you going to do?” Aaron asked.

“I have an idea. But I’m not sure it’ll work.” She replied.

NEXT CHAPTER

---  tagging as requested ---

@lilred254​

[trig-loves-clowning-around]

Burning Bodies

Burning Bodies

This is an original story with various acts of violence

Tw: Stalking and murder and a writer that can't write action sequences or making Read More work on mobile

"Chrissy do not go near that! Dad'll have a cow!" Derek called to his little sister that was hovering dangerously close to the old house.  It was the eyesore of the neighborhood, a husk of its former glory. No one told them how the house across the street had been burnt. The older teens of the neighborhood said it was a meth house accident and that's why no one lived there. 

If someone asked the adults they would wave it off as a natural disaster and the whole family moved away, but no one bought the property. That was all, but it never felt like they were telling the truth.

Most people thought it was a safe haven for squatters.  Kids always whispered about how it was full of ghosts.

Derek was older and wiser, however, and he knew there was no such things as ghosts.  It was probably just the homeless trying to avoid the harsh weather of autumn nights. 

"But Derry, I can see a ghost!" The child squeaked, her red curls bouncing in the soft fall sunlight as she skipped over to press her tiny hands against the old windowsill trying to get a peek into a broken window. The shattered glass shards seemed to have been cleaned up long ago, however the pane was still jagged along the edges as if something large had been thrown through the window. 

"Christina!" Derek called running to drag her away, ghosts or no ghosts that house put him on edge.

 "I'm in charge right now! When I tell you to stay away from that house, you listen!" he grumbled as the little girl started to cry at her older brother raising his voice at her. She was just a kid after all. 

The wind whipped loudly around the two, the breeze was getting more intense as he all but dragged the upset child across the street to the safety of their front yard.  

The hairs on the back of the teen boys neck stood on edge. He couldn't tell if he heard breathing at the old meth house or if it really was just the wind.

If only Derek knew that this was the closest they would get to confronting death and walking away safely. 

At 2:35 A.M September 13th the Cadans Park police dispatch got a call, someone was found standing outside the home and was banging on the door of 2463 West, Police were dispatched to deal with the situation however upon arrival there was no sign that anyone there. 37 year old, Edwin Marshall was advised to set up security cameras after the area was secured. 

Edwin Marshall was snuggled up to his beautiful wife Stacey Marshall in bed. A normal, perfect evening for the pair.

That is...

It was perfect until he heard his 6 year old daughter scream from her bedroom. 

His eyes opened and he was looking into his wife's beautiful green eyes, she had clearly been startled awake.

"I'll go see what's wrong" Edwin insisted on getting out of bed, glancing at the digital alarm clock that read 2:30 in its harsh red numbers as he rushed out the door down the hall of their small home, he saw his son Derek rushing the opposite direction... to the kitchen.

Edwin ran in to see her daughter pressed up into the corner of her room (farthest away from the window facing the front yard), large tears trailed down her chubby pale cheeks and her father ran over to gather her in his strong arms. 

"What? What's wrong?" He cooed in his soft voice as he scanned the room until he saw it. 

A large shadow outside her bedroom window, the moonlight backlit the large shadow and no one could see the face of the predator looming outside. 

Edwin took a bit to realize someone was out there. Once it dawned on him it was a person scaring his daughter, he was full of rage "FUCK OFF" he yelled as he saw Derek reemerging from the hall a large kitchen knife in his hand for protection, he was a brave teen. 

But this wasn't the first time there had been someone outside in their yard at such an hour. His wife's family was very unhappy that she married a dark skinned man like Edwin and when they cut contact her father had started to stalk them.

However, this man was much taller than the stout man that was his father in law, in the moment he didn't realize it.

Edwin also seemed to forget his In-Law was across country with a restraining order, but they hadn't seen him since Derek was nine years old, 

"ARTHUR! LEAVE OR I'LL CALL THE COPS" he called out, the only response that was had was a hand coming up to violently smack the glass with an open palm making little Christina burst into even more tears, there was too much yelling at confusion as the shadow stood unwavering as his teen boy waved a knife around like a mad man. 

"It's too late, Father! I've called the Police!" Stacey yelled in a tired panic from the hall, sadly she had always been too terrified to confront even the idea of her father after they married. 

It felt like an eternity but eventually the shadow figure turned to stalk off into the night, right before a police car pulled up lighting the street with their police lights yet no one was around. 

After the officers made sure the area was safe they went inside to get statements, little Christina was cuddled up in her mother's lap, almost a clone of her mother, as they tried to coax a story out of her over some hot cocoa.

She was blubbering and sobbing about a scary noise, a scary noise woke her up and she saw the scary shadow outside the window waving at her. 

Edwin was pacing in the living room as the police got statements, he was sure his crazy father-in-law had finally found them. 

The two police officers told them they should invest in some cameras so they could get evidence and convict Arthur if he was violating his restraining order and kick him back to where he came from. 

Edwin and Derek got to work on that the next morning after a sleepless night with Edwin guarding the door with a kitchen knife. 

September 19th 2:40 P.M 

Derek Marshall placed a call to Cadans Park Police to report a break-in. Officer Jarvas was dispatched to clear the scene, door was destroyed completely 

"Complete splinters" to quote Officer Jarvas, once scene was secured Derek Marshall commented that nothing seemed missing as they did the traditional walk through. 

Until discovery that the master bedroom, shared by the parents, had been "Fucking Trashed" to quote Derek Marshall. 

Officer Tom noted that all electronic devices in the room had been destroyed, theorized that it was smashed with some sharp object, possibly a machete. 

A police officer is to be posted outside their home during the evening when the family is home. 

The call was made after school got out, at first it was assumed it was going to be an accident from the student drivers, however when the dispatcher heard a teen cussing about the door being "fuckin destroyed" she sent an officer.

There was a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach, it was the house across from… THAT house. 

Derek was freaking out, the door was half way off its hinges, slashed in half diagonally.

"Don't worry sonny with the cameras ya got should be all good and caught the criminal" Officer Jarvas smiled at him as he went to make sure no one was inside, took him a long time to scan through the windows carefully before entering the house. 

"Stay right here"

Despite what Derek was told he felt off, like someone was watching him and he ran into the house to join the officer 

"Buddy I told you to stay outs-" 

"I'd rather be with you it's safer here" derek insisted "you're supposed to protect and serve right? Well I feel more protected here" he grumbled and Jarvas sighed and gave in. 

The one story house had a simple layout, a living room and kitchen were first when you enter, other than the destroyed door everything seemed fine and untouched, each step on the tile floor sounded like a drum beat in Derek's ears, eyes scanning as the officer had his gun at the ready for anyone to hop out. 

They left after checking the pantry, all was clear. Next to the right there was a long hall that held the bathroom and the three bedrooms. The bathroom was the closest on the left, it was untouched, next Derek's room right across the hallway, once the door opened Derek flinched waiting to see something like his electric base or PC missing but, no nothing had been touched. They looked around his room, Derek checked everything even under his bed but, there was nothing at all. 

Finally came the master bedroom, they slowly walked in and Derek looked around in shock, everything from the walls to the bed frame was hacked to all hell.

"Oh fuck mom's gonna have a heart attack its fucking trashed in here" he cussed and Officer Tom nodded his head.

"Oh god this is… more than I expected" he mumbled looking around for anyone, Derek all but glued to his side. 

In the corner was a computer, his dad's personal computer that controlled their new cameras everything was destroyed, even the monitor was smashed in until the screen was all but a fine powder. The Tv? destroyed. Headboard? Hacked up, some pieces were laying on the torn up mattress. 

Yet it was lacking any signs of life other than the two males sneaking around. 

Lastly they went to Christina's room, it was in its natural state of chaos from a little girl with an overactive imagination. Her bedroom closet had all the clothes pushed to one side but other than that it was completely fine. 

Derek had to call his parents about their houses break in while the officer called in for a report.

Before long the family was on the way to spend some time at their grandparents' place.

Little Chrissy was very upset when she was told that they couldn't take anything, everything was evidence in the end and they needed to leave everything but the clothes on their backs. 

She was whining that she couldn't sleep without Joy, her favorite Raggedy Anne doll, as they drove out of town for a weekend to try to think of their next steps since this stalker was clearly violent they would need to think away from the home. 

Of course Edwin's parents were ecstatic to see their precious grandkids again, they made their home open for them. The house was bigger than the one they left with a few guests rooms for emergencies such as the one they were in. 

Christina lit up at seeing "pop pops and mumsy" and the thought of the missing doll left her 6 year old mind. 

That is until dinner had passed.

The family was in the front room talking to happily, Derek was in the corner playing on his phone watching youtube videos ignoring it all until there was a knock at the front door. 

"I'll get it" pop pops smiled and stood on his old shaky legs as he walked to the front door, the old hinges squealed in protest as he opened the heavy oak door. The relaxed chatter didn't end, little Christina was leaning over to try and watch what Derek was watching whining even when the adults happy chatter turned into terrified silence. 

The two youngest looked up to see Pop pops holding a well loved Raggedy Ann in his hands. Christina lit up like a christmas tree, "Joy!" She squealed running to grab the doll from her beloved grandfather's hands.

"Thank you pop pop! You're the best!" She squeaked happily unaware of the terror behind her elders' eyes. 

September, 27 

Due to lack of evidence and activity the squad car will be left on the street however due to understaffing the Cadans Police Department needs to pull the officers out to only check every few hours at night while the Marshall family gathers their belongings to move.

Crime was something that increased every so often in Cadans Park, most in the town blamed the increase of drifters. With several entrances to the highway and the train tracks running through town it wasn't hard for hitchhikers to get there. 

Especially in the winter when they were trying to get out of the cold at any cost begging for mercy from shop owners or homeowners alike. Seen as an eyesore of the "good community"

Mayor Justin Lancaster wanted to take the problem out before winter by arresting and charging the homeless with any crime from loitering to disturbing the peace, a disgusting act but the squatters at least got a warm place to sleep while awaiting trial.

At least that's what the officers told themselves being forced to arrest the helpless, unfortunate people. The mayor seemed to not understand empathy, he never did and used that to his advantage to twist people's metaphorical hands behind their back until they had to cry for mercy. 

However with the amount of the small force already having to be on the lookout for the homeless to arrest the rest of the town was left unsupervised, that put the police chief on edge and he made a decision. 

This decision was questionable and put a family at risk but what else could the man do? 

He pulled the physical police presence at the Marshall's house but left the squad car hoping it would be enough. 

October, 3rd 9:33 P.M 

Cadans Fire Department, police, and paramedics were called by the 64 year old Joseph Markus Hughes, the Marshall's home had been found up in flames, no knowledge if the family was inside, firefighters were dispatched immediately.

 One more night. Just one more. 

They were moving with Edwin's parents while they sold the house, safety in numbers and all, they had spent the whole day packing up everything they could so they wouldn't have to sleep in the house where the stalker knew to look.

 It took a lot longer than expected and soon it was dusk. 

Derek was busy dragging a box of his room decor when he heard it. Heavy breathing His parents were outside loading in the heavy furniture into the moving van that was farther than necessary thanks to the empty squad car taking up space.

"Chrissy?" Derek called walking to her room where she was left to play with Joy.

The breathing got louder as he crept forward fear made his blood run cold, the breathing was far too deep to be the breathing of a child's. 

The door silently opened and he could feel his heart stop at what he was witnessing.

Someone was on top of his sister, large mostly gloved hand wrapped around her tiny throat she wasn't moving. 

The man (woman?) Was wrapped in bandages, reflective black goggles staring into Derek's very soul as they were tucking the doll next to Christina's 'unconscious' body (Derek refused to accept the truth of his sister's condition in his shock). The sound of heavy breathing was amplified by the gas mask on the assailant's face, it was hard to see them breathing as the large body armor seemed to mask their level breathing 

Derek Marshall let out a noise that could only be described as a choked sob before he threw his box at his sister's attacker. "Get the fuck off Chrissy!" He yelled before he could think he blindly charged at the person. 

The attacker stood and took the hit square in the chest but it only sent the two tripping over the child's body falling backwards onto the carpeted floor. 

Derek, now on top, threw a punch to the masked attackers face but they grabbed his fist, it was such a painful grip the boy let out a cry of pain before the assailant punched him square in the chin dazing him and sending him flat on the back laying on top of his sister's still warm body. The masked attacker got up and grabbed something he couldn't see leaning against the wall as his vision swam as he grabbed his sister's limp  hand and started to scoot backwards to try to save her to get away from the man as fast as he could. 

"Dad!" He yelled as loud as possible struggling to stand up to run, his little sister still being dragged away as he heard the front door slam open 

"Derek?!" 

Stacey had heard the scream of there son first and started running, her husband following close behind as they ran into the house, almost breaking the brand new door. 

They saw a hopeful look in their son's eyes as he dragged their seemingly unconscious daughter from the bedroom by her hands. The two parents started to run to him until an axe flew by hitting him square in the shoulder, making him scream in pain and collapse to the floor. 

Stacey let out a high pitched scream, one that could break glass as she watched the masked attacker stride out to take the axe out of her son's shoulder, he was still alive as it didn't go in too deep he was shaking in pain groaning weakly. 

Edwin acted fast running at the masked assailant trying to fight the axe out of the murderers hands yelling at Stacey to call the police and she scrambled to find her phone dropping it as she heard her husband scream in pain. She looked up in shock to see her husband alight like a candle, dropping to the ground to try and roll out the flames. His movements seemed spasming from the pain and Stacey couldn't take her eyes off her husband, time seemed to stand still as the axe came down to take Edwin's head off his shoulders with a clean slam through the neck. She felt faint and tried to stumble to her true love and babies… 

Her family

Her reason to keep going 

She didn't have to be full of such pain for long however when the axe slammed it into her gut. The killer started to stalk forward, going to finish her off when Derek lashed out with all his strength getting in front of his mother trying to stop him with a punch to the nose of the gas mask the killer flinched it off and grabbed the boy by the face slamming him into the ground. 

The killer spared no mercy to Stacey, hacking up her body, starting with her legs. 

Derek weakly crawled  to the killer grabbing their leg as a silent plea for mercy.

The fire from his father's body spread to the walls as the murderer paid the boy no mind, dismembering Stacey her screams died out with her. 

"Mommy" Derek hiccuped letting out a dry sob as he dragged himself to her decapitated head cradling it in his good hand staring into her vibrant green eyes until he felt a boot on the back of his head. 

The attacker raised their foot and the boy turned fearfully to look up at them as they brought their large foot down over and over, stomping the boy's head until they heard a satisfying crack even still the assailant continued to stomp as the fire raged around them, no stopping until the bottom of their boot was covered in his brains. 

The killer seemed satisfied, leaving through the back door into the dark, letting the evidence burn behind them, their axe dragging in the grass behind them.

Joseph Markus Hughes sat in his front room watching the television reading the subtitles of the soap opera he had been sucked into. He felt his phone vibrate in his pocket and looked down to read a text from his son, he sent a text back, he loved that he could still communicate with his far away family even with his disability, the future was so wonderful. 

He got up with his cane, he wanted to bring his dog inside for the night when he caught a glimpse out of the window and his jaw dropped. 

His neighbors home, the house across the street, was set ablaze panicking he pressed his panic button or as his children called it "I've fallen and can't get up" button 

Due to him being nonverbal the police, ambulance, and firefighters showed up, obviously they found the problem by then and got to work quickly. 

October 4th, 12:00 A.M 

Fire was extinguished, spread up to the nearby homes, family found dead. Sent in for autopsy while paramedics take care of the wounded, foul play suspected.

In the early hours of the morning in the neighborhood meth house there was a quiet click of a battery operated radio, tuning into the morning news already announcing the fire and death of the family.

"Police suspect Father of Stacey Marshall, Arthur Jacob Jones as committing the murder, for now we can only be struck with grief with such a tragedy" 

There was a wheeze of a laugh 

Grief from a tragic loss 

Good

They understood 

Click 

It was silent in the house once more

[alitheamateur]

The Grind-Chapter 29

I helped clean up the dishes, and he emptied all our trash into the dumpster behind the shop before we journeyed to the next stealthy location on his to-do list. I made sure to cork the pricey wine bottle so I could take the last bit home to sip on in bed with him, not wanting to waste a drop of the bittersweet goodness. Colton peeled off his jacket to drape over my bare back since the evening temperatures had chilled noticeably, then we locked up and he offered his aid to the car, considering my acutely inebriated state.

Instead of following the traffic further into the eventful side of town, we made a left and headed off towards the outskirts. It was a part of Pittsburgh that normally would have me on edge consider the late hour, but with Colton at the wheel there was truly never any reason to fear. He wasn’t a certified superhero, or a proclaimed savior of humanity, but I felt he was my own personal, daunting vigilante. I was independent, and capable on my own, but with him I could be fearless.

I looked out the side window as the streetlights and skyscrapers became scarce, and felt the dizzy aftershock of the merlot floating through my veins, creating a warm blaze over my cheeks. Rolling the window down a crack for some cool breeze to chill my alcoholic hot flash, we turned on the very familiar street where Mac’s gym used to sit. I stretched in my seat to get a good look around, continuing the trend of confusion.

“You okay, Livvy?” Colton tested as he parallel parked directly in front of the cloudy, dust stained windows of the unoccupied building.

“Yeah, just a little hazy from the wine is all. And wondering what we’re doing here.”

He only half-smiled and opened the door, gesturing for me to follow suit. Checking carefully for any oncoming vehicles, I slung open the passenger side to meet my offered escort on the sidewalk. The “A” of the sign above the doorway was cracked and barely hanging on by some sketchy wires, and the street number that was stickered on the glass was pared and faded. I felt instantly sad for Colt seeing the current state his once second home. In fact, it had probably been more of a home to him than the old, dingy apartment he was held up in when we first met, considering the innumerable hours he spent training here.  As our steps accidently synced in speed toward Mac’s, Colton tore away a graffiti marked “For Sale” sign heftily tapped to the glass. He disconnected our hands to pull a key tucked away in a pocket of his wallet…

Shards of broken glass from the overhead lights furthermore shattered as we walked over the polluted floor of the abandoned gym. Most of the equipment remained intact and the ring still stood in its place, only now stained a bit with the passing year of lacked maintenance. A red-wrapped box, taped with a black bow had been placed in its center, which I gathered was exactly where Colton was dragging me. He gaped the stretchy, leather-like ropes open and grasped my forearm to keep me from woozily face planting. From side glance, I watched him drink in the sight of my leaning figure, and the spilling out of cleavage as I did so.

“I hate seeing the place like this. I know it has to be pretty brutal for you too, babe.” I weakly slurred in a sympathized manner.

“This place got a lotta memories, for sure. For the both of us, hm?” He approached me from behind covering me in a bear hug, kissing the crook of my neck, and inhaling in my most customary scent. A reminder of the first night we spent together standing in that very spot made the echo of our moans, and the feel of his hands on me play back like a fantasy in my mind, and I sunk further into his body.

“Be careful talking about such things, Ritter. I might just be drunk enough to let you take advantage of me right here again.”

“As much as I need to get my hands on you, you should open ya’ present first.” He suggested, nudging me onward with a pat to the behind.

I squatted to lift the box, and felt the barely-there weight of its contents. Colt remained in observance over my shoulder, quietly inspecting for a reaction as I worked my nails over the knotted, silk bow closure. It fell to my feet, tickling over my exposed toes in the stilettoes I wore, and I then dropped the cardboard lid shortly after. Lined with tissue paper inside, the black gloves Colton wore to fight Danny Mendez were laid next to each other. The grained leather was softer than when I had first gifted him with them, now broken in and loose due to the blows thrown, and punches blocked.

“Colton. These belong to you, babe. I don’t even deserve a pair this nice. And besides, they have your name on ‘em, silly.” I reasoned, turning slow to face my one-man audience.

“I think I can maybe do somethin’ about that little name issue, pretty girl.”

Suddenly, the crisp box and its contents crashed to the floor, falling buoyantly from my now numb hands. Instead of spinning around to meet his smiling eyes, I had to sink my sights to discover him knelt a few feet from me, caressing a square velvet case.

“Colton, what ar-.”

“You listen, ‘n let me talk this time, baby.”

Uncontrollable outlines of mascara black tears initiated abruptly, and the white noise of passing traffic, and distant sirens ceased.

“The second I looked into those bright emerald eyes of yours Livvy, a fuse kicked inside me. All those emotions that I had turned off a long time ago, fuckin’ came roaring back. The typical me, woulda walked right out that morning with a coffee to-go, without a second thought. But it was like every time I looked back at ya’, I swear I could literally feel my heartbeats inside of me. I coulda counted them out loud, Liv. You had me in this… this trance or somethin’. You know I ain’t gonna say all this the way you deserve to hear it, but I need you to know what you are to me, Elliott. How much you mean t’ me.”

I could hear his voice crack under the pressure he had put on himself, and the lump of tearful release he was trying to choke back into his throat.

“There’s a billion damn reasons why I don’t deserve ya’. We both know that. But there’s another billion reasons why I want to. You’re the most intelligent woman I’ve ever met, and the only one I know who could get me laughin’ like a damn idiot the way you do. I love that you always have a little smudge of leftover makeup unda’ your eyes when you wake up every mornin’, and that you can have me beggin’ in desperation the second you put on a pair of those shoes like the ones ya’ wearin’ now. And don’t even get me started on how thrilled I get seeing you strapped into a pair of sparring gloves. As nervous sick as it gets me, I love it all the same. I ain’t never wanted to be a better man, babe. For myself, and sure as hell not for anyone else. But the man I am with you, the man you turn me into, is a far better one that I ever thought I could be. C’mere, Livvy baby. I ain’t gonna bite.”

Following the suggestive direction of his nod, I weakly closed the distance between us, and he took my chattering hand into his. He laughed, and tried to still the very obvious nervous, euphoric emotion coming through my skin.

“You are such a beautiful, loving, kind heart. Not to mention sexy in the most subtle ‘n real way. You’re strong as a fuckin’ ox, inside & out, and you sit my ass straight in line every day. God knows I need that. I want to spend the rest of my life being ya’ sidekick, and watchin’ you succeed with whatever your heart wants. I can’t promise I’ll be as perfect as all the otha’ men you truly deserve, and I need ya’ to be patient wi’ me when I get all caught up in me head. There ain’t nobody else I’d rather have nursin’ my wounds after a fight, or eatin’ a whole gallon of ice cream with on a cheat day. You’re my only light, and any chance I have at bein’ a decent man is only because of you. So, Liv Caroline Elliott, will you marry me?”

The flawless solitaire sent iridescent beams of sparkle bouncing across the ceiling as the light caught it in Colton’s suddenly shaking hand. The stone was impressively hefty in carats, and was uniquely chiseled into the shape of an octagon. I knew that little quality wasn’t just a coincidence, and Colt had made this purchase with careful consideration and lots of preparation. His dedicated search for the perfect diamond to join the two of us together was a thoughtful sentiment no one could refute.

He bore his soul without question, so unnaturally against his nature, and let his every emotion spring forth for me to potentially criticize and dismiss. The metamorphosis I had witnessed overtake him the last months satisfied my hearts every yearning, and I knew fully that Colton Ritter was the only man who would ever fill the shoes of my true love. As tears began saturating his soft, bristle-like eyelashes too quick for him to conceal and rub away with his shirt sleeve, I wordlessly nodded an accepting, smiling ‘yes.’

“You ain’t gettin’ off that easy 2-1. A man’s gotta hear you say it.”

“Yes, Colton. Yes, yes, yes! A hundred times over, yes. I will marry you. Only if you promise me, to stop selling yourself so short and trying to convince the world what a monster you are. When it comes to the cage, sure you’re unforgiving and dangerous. But otherwise, we both know that’s so far from the truth. Whether I’m the only lucky individual who gets to see it behind closed doors or not, you’re so kind. And you’re the most loyal man I have ever met. Any time I’ve been lucky enough to spend with you, have been the best minutes of my entire life. And when I happen to think about the time passed without you, I cringe at the memories we could’ve made. I want nothing more than to spend whatever life I have left by your side.”

The feeling of the cool silver band as he slid it with ease over the knuckle of the proper finger sent a tsunami of wedding color schemes, and potential venues flooding into my train of thought. Never was I the girl for fairy tales, and tulle and princes riding in to rescue the damsel, but the countless possibilities of marital bliss with Colton had birds chirping and singing around my head.

My newly crowned fiancé lunged in to seal the celebration with a deep kiss, pulling me into him by a hand on the back of my neck. The sticky tears wetting his face mixed with my own as our faces touched in embrace, and Colton dipped me like the closing move of a Salsa dance, laughing when I yelped in surprise.

“What is it about this little place, I wonder? It seems Mac’s has been pretty important to us over the last years.” I pointed out, as he kissed the fine jewelry now situated on my finger.

“Yeah…… Well, uhm... About that…”

I looked at him through slit eyes, and cocked a quizzical, suspicious brow at what had him so apparently tongue tied.

“You’re right. This shit hole has been pretty damn important t’ me. And a’ course, to us too. I can’t stand to see it just sittin’ here. Rotting.”

“I’m sure if there was anything Mac could do, sweetheart, he would’ve already. Maybe we’ll get lucky and the next owner will give it a good makeover, y’know? Freshen it up.” I attempted to cheer him up with positive outlook, and cheery suggestions.

“Oh, I think you right. The next owner is gonna get this place back on its feet, and back to it’s roots. Some new bags first thing, and a definite fuckin’ fumigating.” His nose crinkled as he looked around at the mildewed ceiling.

“It sold? Someone finally bou-“

I froze, and Colton’s instantaneous smile furthermore proved my suspicions. He had torn down that weathered ‘for sale’ sign before we came inside, and the little key tucked in his wallet should’ve been my tell-tale.

“COLTON?! It’s yours? You bought it? How? Whe-“

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Take a breath, ya’ crazy chatterbox. Yes, I bought it. And yes, it’s OURS.” Colton annunciated the significance of ‘ours’ in his confession, assuring I understood that this cherished little corner of a rickety, dark corner block in Pittsburgh now belonged to us. Together.

“I was thinkin’… How does 21 Punches sound to you? I mean, I’d like to have Mac maybe be a manger for me, y’know, when I can’t be here ‘n stuff. But I do wanna change that sign out front.”

Invisible atoms of a tranquil fog consumed the every corner of being, and my legs felt insubstantial on a cloud of celestial contentment. This stiff as cement man, who seemed to turn to near wet, molding clay in my presence wanted to name his most prized possession after a silly, what I viewed as irrelevant, high school basketball number from my ancient days as a Westfield Warrior. I half expected a hidden crowd to jump out into a surprise party, or a horse drawn carriage to wheel up outside to seal the finishing touches on an evening of unadulterated shock and romance.

“I think you’re the best thing about this smelly, foggy, freezing city. And I think you should take me home right now, and let me show you exactly how amazing I think you are.”

Forgetting any class or feminine daintiness, I grabbed firmly around the bulge of his thin, extremely well-fitting slacks and parted two buttons of his shirt to tickle his beating chest.

“Home? We own the place now, ya’ naughty lil’ thing. I could just take ya’ right fuckin’ now if I wanted to.”

“Slide your hand under this dress and get to it then, Mr. Ritter.” I sighed fervently into his ear, sloppily sucking his neck just under the line of his beard.

The lack of undergarments he discovered as he used two fingers to crawl up the side of my leg caused him to groan out hauntingly.

“Your wish, is my fuckin’ command, Mrs. Ritter.”

tags: @torialeysha @eap1935 @mollybegger-blog @littleluna98

[pvnthcrc]

“I’m Mariposa Vivienne, not just anyone, but A QUEEN. Ask whoever you want, and they will say the same.” Mari’s cheeks sunk in exposing her sculpted cheek bones as she sucked in the smoke from the thin cigarette. A dry, sarcastic chuckle lest her lips as she didn’t bother to look at her friend, Anne. “I gave him everything, I gave him best years of my life, I taught him how to be a man, a King.” She spoke way too calm, almost nonchalant, yet the venomous smirk remained on her full lips. “Now, I’m Mariposa Vivienne Panthere, Angelo Panthere’s wife and a mother of his child.” Her eyes, eyes of a lioness threw a piercing shot at the 5 year old boy who played a slow melody on his father’s white Bösendorfer grand piano. She took a pause as if she listened to the melody, her long, black coffin nails brushing through her long, raven hair. Mari was deep in her thoughts as the cold stare stayed on her son. Anne noticed the way Mariposa was looking at the little boy, and just to hide the pinch of uncomfortable feeling she dipped her eyes into the glass of wine as she took a sip. “I’ve carried that child for nine months. And this motherfucker still fucks every dirty hole he sees on his way.” Mariposa said through her teeth and warmed her mouth with the liquor that was in her glass. “I was too stupid to get pregnant by that unfaithful ass cheater.” She stated lowly and only then Anne decided to speak up. “Mari, darling, you know how all men be... And Angelo, he’s one of the most known musicians in the world, I know he loves you but-...” Anne didn’t had a chance to finish, she got interrupted by Mari’s sudden shout. “Jahseh, stop playing that damn piano and go to your damn room!” Anne bit on her lip as she watched the boy who’s dark, cat shaped eyes looked at his mother. He had her eyes, his baby face seemed to be emotionless but somehow Anne felt bad for the boy. “Go to your damn room, Jahseh, or I’ll beat your ass in front of this white bitch. I said go!” Mariposa said in French to her son; he understood every word while Anne had no idea what Mari just said. He got up from the piano stool and without saying any word he left the huge living room. “When I see him, I see Angelo. They both make me sick.” Mariposa kissed on her teeth as her lighter flicked to fire up another cigarette.

“How could you embarrass me like this, Jahseh?” Mariposa was furious; she dragged her 10 years old son to the empty room and pushed his body against the wall. “But what did I do, mom? I haven’t done-...” Jah tried to explain himself but instead his cheek ended up burning from a loud slap that her hand left across his face. “How could you tell The Willson’s about your father not being at home right now? How dare you open your mouth you little piece of shit!” Mari wasn’t loud, but her low, soft tone stabbed her son harder than a dagger could. “But dad’s on tour, I haven’t said nothing wrong!” Jah wanted to rub on his cheek and just leave, but he remained emotionless and held his mother’s stare without even blinking, which pissed Mari even more. “Your bitch ass father is not on tour, you idiot! He’s living with that bitch right now, but you be talking too much!” She rose her hand again, and another slap touched his soft skin. Nothing changed in his face. “You told me he went on tour.” Jahseh replied as his mother was on flames. She opened her mouth to drop another hurricane on her son, but she changed her mind and smiled at him. “Now, fix your damn face and go back to guests.”

“Mari, I haven’t been home for 3 fucking months. I been on a damn road, I’m fucking tired and now you pulling all the bullshit on me when I just want to get a damn rest, at my own house.” Angelo tried not to raise his voice as he eased his tie that now hung over his neck. He picked up a heavy, crystal decanter and filled up a glass with his favorite cognac. “No, Angelo, you will have to listen to me, I don’t care if you’re tired or not!” Mari hissed as he approached her husband and took the glass away from his hands. Angelo sighed heavy and shook his head while rubbing on his nose bridge. “Posa, tomorrow’s Jah’s birthday, let’s just act like a normal family, ight? I’m fed up with your drama, let me celebrate my son’s 16th birthday, that’s all I’m asking right now.” He made a step closer to Mariposa and opened his arms in attempt to get her closer and hush her down, but instead Mari threw his own drink right in his face. “Fuck you and your son, you motherfucker! I know you’ve been with that bitch!” She kept yelling, and this time, for the first time after all these years Angelo wasn’t able to deal with his wife’s hysterics; he grabbed her by her shoulders and gave her a hard shake. “Shut the fuck up! Say anything ‘bout me but don’t ya dare to say shit ‘bout your own son you psycho ass bitch!” Like a wild cat. Mariposa began scratching and pushing Angelo but he held her as tight as he could. “I hate you! I hate you both! Get your hands off me, fucker! Ya’ both ruined and keep ruining my life! Burn in hell!” She kept yelling and to shut her up Angelo’s palm landed on her cheek in a slap. A dead silence filled the living room. Angelo pushed her away from himself and left the room before leaving the house. Mari fell across the couch and exploded in a loud cry. A few minutes later two hands gently wrapped around her shoulders. “Ma... Don’t cry..” Jah said softly bringing his mother closer to himself. “GET THE FUCK OFF ME!” She pushed Jahseh away and got up from the couch pointing his finger at her son. “You and your father, I hate you both! You two are the same! You’re a fucking monster just like he is!” Jah clenched his jaw and got up as well. “Ma, ya need to calm down..” Although, she was thinking otherwise. “Don’t tell me what to do! Get out the house, I don’t wanna see your stupid ass anymore!” Grabbing Jah by his dreads he dragged him towards the main entrance while sending kicks to his body forcing him to go faster. “Get out!” As she kicked him out, she shut the door right in his face. It was a chill night, Jah had only his shorts and flip flops on. Shaking his head and rubbing on his shoulders, he began to walk away from the mansion. Where the fuck should he go now? He didn’t had his phone with him, his father probably at some fancy ass hotel right now. He just kept walking, aimlessly. He couldn’t go to his friends, what would he tell them? Plus, he had to keep that perfect picture of their family. What if everyone gonna laugh at him because of all this bullshit? All he could do is to walk. “Yo, Jah, is that you?” Jah didn’t even notice a black Benz that pulled up besides him. Jah had to squint his eyes due to the lights of the car just to figure out it was his plug, Kevin. “Why ya half ass naked walkin’ ‘round here?” The plug laughed some as Jah smirked and shook his head. “Bruh, I went outside for a smoke and dat damn security system locked the whole house, I can’t get in.” Jah was that great ass actor who deserves the damn Oscar’s because when he lies, he lies. Kevin chuckled and leaned over to open the passenger door. “Hop in, I got new stuff ya might like.” Jahseh got into the car and the plug drove off. They had a chat about this and that before Jahseh asked. “Yo, do you have something that would KO my ass? My mind goin’ crazy right na’, fuck lean and weed bruh, this shit ain’t able to shut down my mind.” At that moment, Kevin parked the car and both stepped out. Now, they were on the way to Kevin’s appartment. Jah’s question caused the male to chuckle. “What, no more xannies for you, Jah? I got something if you’re not pussy..” He opened the door letting Jah in. “Let me try bruh, I just need whatever. Just put it on my check.” Jah said plopping down on the couch. “Well, okay.” Kevin went to the other room and after some while he came back with a strap that he threw at Jah. “Wrap it just a little beneath your shoulder.” Jah let out a laughter. “Ya trynna gimme a shot bruh?” Although, he did what he was told. For right now, he could care less. “Ball your fist up.. relax it... ball it up again.” Kevin instructed as he watched the vein bulging up on Jah’s forearm. Jahseh’s curious gaze followed after Kevin’s actions. He saw a syringe, then felt a light pinch, and then... he flew away, far far away, to the lands of euphoria where everything seemed so peaceful and easy. And he didn’t want to get back to the real world, so he didn’t.

Warming up the substance on the spoon turned into a daily basis for Jah, he was able to do it with his eyes closed since it’s been a while of his relationship with heroin. Being more than sure he’s all alone at home, Jah sat in jacuzzi where he tightened the strap around his arm and held it’s end between his teeth as he aimed the needle to his vein. Another shot, another dose of a paradise. His head fell back as his eyes closer, his arm with the trail of red marks from the numerous shots fell over the jacuzzi border. “JAHSEH!!!” What the fuck her voice is doing here, in his fairytale? What the fuck is wrong with this high? Why he could hear his mother? Why it feels like her arms touching him, why it feels like her nails dug into his skin? Why his face burns as if it gets hit after hit? You know what, not today mother satan, you not gonna appear in his fantasy and ruin it for him. At the end of the day, everything is a fantasy, right? Jah threw a hard punch and his fist felt like it hit it’s target. He heard a scream, his mother’s scream, and it made him feel good. He threw another punch. And another. His vision cleared up a little and now he was able to see the silhouette of a woman. Well, today he’s on a weird trip if he can see his own mother in his own heroin dream, but if it’s only a dream he can do what he want, right? Climbing out of jacuzzi, Jah grabbed the woman by her hair and pulled her closer. “I’m fuckin’ tired of ya shit, bitch.” His hist curled up and smashed against the beautiful face. The woman fell down, Jah hovered over her and continued throwing hit after hit over her face and her body. And it felt so good.. All these years of being hated, humiliated, beaten up and terrorized by her, it felt so good to release his hurt and anger in this heroin dream of his. Suddenly, as by a snap of the fingers, Jahseh sobered up as if he never took his shot. His chest rising high, up and down from a hard breathing, his knuckles bleeding and when he looked down he saw Mariposa who tried to crawl away from him. “Ma...” He muttered not really believing in what his own eyes showed him. Grabbing his phone, he dialed 911. That’s how Jahseh Panthere ended up in a rehab, that’s how he got on probation, and that’s the secret The Panthere’s had to pay a good check for to keep it unknown and hidden from every single soul.

[bazzaya]

the underground

Minerza AU. Erza is a grad student who is trying to be responsible after her chaotic undergrad days. Minerva is a street dancer and the frontman of her group that performs in competitions with other b-boys.

Summary: Erza just wants to get an early night’s rest for once, but Bacchus and Cana are insistent on reliving the glory days of their undergrad years by dragging Erza out for a night. The last thing she expects is to become immediately captivated by the hot dancer who can work absolute magic with her hips.

A/N: This is... entirely self-indulgent. I imagined Minerva in a hot outfit on accident and my brain told me to write an entire AU just as an excuse to put Minerva in such an outfit. It also has Erza reaching unfathomable levels of thirst for Minerva, and honestly same. This got away from me. Have fun looking into my elaborate fantasies that keep me up at night. I didn’t proofread it at all. I’m too tired and I’m desperate to post. Also, @gsut, you said you wanted tagged. Here you go.

Word Count: ~6.6k. FUCK.

[Ao3 Link/FFNet Link]

Sorry! I mean... Enjoy!

Erza turned out the light to her bedroom with a content sigh, piling into bed shortly after. She plugged her phone in to let it charge, and there she saw the time- 10:23. That was an early night for her compared to most other nights, where she stayed up until ungodly hours in the morning with grad school work. She was going to savor a night of full sleep.

Just when Erza was close to curing her exhaustion with sleep, her phone buzzed on her nightstand. She was jolted from her calm state by the sudden noise, but she forced herself to forget about it and go back to sleep. Her phone kept buzzing however, at least once every thirty seconds or so, and soon enough Erza got fed up with the noise and threw the blanket off of her, reaching out for her phone and nearly tearing it off the charger.

[Bacchus:] hey

[Bacchus:] hey

[Bacchus:] hey Erza

[Bacchus:] are you asleep already?

[Bacchus:] HEY ERZA WAKE UP

[Cana:] dammit erza wake up we're tryna reach you

[Cana:] what LOSER sleeps at 10:30 anyways?

[Cana:] has grad school turned you into a grandma

[Bacchus:] did grad school fuckin kill you

That was ridiculous. She was getting bombarded with messages as if she hadn't just spent time with her friends five days ago. They knew that grad school hadn't killed her. They were just being annoying now. Begrudgingly, Erza typed out her reply to Bacchus only (she figured he was with Cana), her fingers loudly clashing against the screen of her phone. She was mad. Why can't she sleep in peace.

[Erza:] If someone important hasn't just died, I don't want to hear it. I finally have one night where I can get an early night's rest. Let me sleep in peace!

[Bacchus:] :(

[Bacchus:] loosen up sis! we were lookin to invite you out for a wild night

[Erza:] I'm sleeping. Maybe some other time.

[Bacchus:] come on! it'll be fun! cana's here with me it'll be like old times back from the undergrad days. unless you already forgot about your fun undergrad days bc of your fancy grad school

[Erza:] We literally hung out five days ago. We went clubbing.

[Bacchus:] it'll be like old times back from five days ago!

[Bacchus:] Cmon Erza. We really mean it this time. We even found something new and WILD to do

Before Erza could reply, she got a text from Cana.

[Cana:] before you say no you should know we are literally outside of your apartment building rn

[Cana:] and we did not just waste a trip and taxi fare over here for nothing

Erza sighed, climbing out of bed and heading to her window. She pulled back her curtain and looked down at the street, spotting Bacchus and Cana, who waved to her. Letting out another sigh, Erza typed back her response.

[Erza:] Give me ten minutes.

[Bacchus:] aight but there ain't no need to doll yourself up too much. it'll be dark and looking too refined'll make you stick out like an idiot

[Erza:] Good lord then.

It took her all of two minutes to throw on some torn jeans and some sort of shirt. She didn't turn the light back on so she hoped that it matched somewhat. Erza grabbed a jacket as she left since it was nighttime and a bit drafty, and to hopefully tie the outfit together. She strolled outside the apartment building soon enough, watching as Cana and Bacchus nearly cheered at the sight.

"She lives!" Cana exclaimed loudly, face lighting up with a wide smile.

Bacchus crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn't wearing a shirt, just a leather jacket. Erza wondered how he wasn't freezing. "You're rockin' the rugged look, sis! You'll fit right in!"

"Thanks." Erza replied, voice dry and affected by her exhaustion, "What have I been dragged out of bed for?"

"Follow me! I'll explain on the way." Bacchus spun around cleanly on his heels and pointed in front of him, "Yo, so you know how I had to bail on you guys two weeks or so ago because the boys pulled me away for a night?"

"Erza and I still had fun on our own even if you couldn't make it." Cana looked at Erza with a smirk, laughing under her breath.

Erza just stared ahead of her, "Go on."

"So, Nobarly got invited to go to this underground music spot because he knows a guy, and he invited me and the boys out with him. Now lemme just tell ya' this, it was the WILDEST thing I've ever seen, yo! And your man just got an invite for tonight's gathering." He glanced over his shoulder at Erza and Cana, a sly look on his face, "I thought I'd bring the two wildest girls I know with me! You'll love it!"

Cana flicked at Erza's shoulder with her wrist, clearly unable to contain her excitement, "You ready for something incredible?"

"I'm ready for bed…" Erza's shoulders sagged and she let out a sigh, eyes falling shut.

Cana frowned at that, regarding Erza with a concerned look, "Y'know… If you really don't wanna join us, there's always next time. We can walk ya' back to your apartment."

Bacchus looked over his shoulder again, an eyebrow raised, "She's right, sis. We wouldn't know how ballbusting grad school is. We didn't mean'ta overstep if you're really that beat."

Shaking her head, Erza tried to force a smile, resting her hands on her hips, "Nah… I'm good. I could use the break. Don't pay me and my complaining any heed. I'll wake up soon."

"Now that's wild!" Bacchus regained that excited swagger to his step, "I guarantee ya', one second of action here will keep you up all night!"

"But I have an 8am class in the morning.." Erza began though she cut herself off shortly enough. She wasn't going to sour the mood any longer. "Right. Show the way, Bacchus."

Bacchus nodded gleefully, "Got it, sister!"

A little while later, Bacchus led them to a rundown parking garage. The whole thing was sketchy as Bacchus showed them to the lower levels of the lot, and Erza got a bad feeling in her stomach. She wondered if she could hold her own if she got jumped. Then she remembered she once punched a guy in the face for saddling up to Cana one night while she was particularly drunk and the guy wouldn't take no for an answer. The guy was knocked out immediately. The memory made Erza feel slightly safer. Besides, she had a muscly guy on her side in Bacchus plus an utterly ruthless, dirty fighter in Cana. They could probably take a robber.

On the lowest level of the lot, a lot practically empty and covered entirely in graffiti, Erza was able to hear the sound of hip-hop music clearly, and there were a lot of people crowded together. There were two tables set up, one with alcohol and the other with a mixtable and a laptop. Speakers were on either side of the table with the music equipment, and a guy was manning the table, eyes on the laptop and hand toying with the disc of the mixtable.

As Erza walked around and took in the sights, there was only one thought in her mind. "Did we just join a gang?"

"Nah." Bacchus shook his head, he and Cana both making a beeline to the table with alcohol, "It's a dance battle, yo! And we gonna watch!"

"I was really afraid it was gonna be a rap battle." Cana said, snatching up a red cup of beer, "A dance battle is better. Hey Erza, you want some?" She turned to Erza and pointed with her thumb at the table.

Erza shook her head, "I really shouldn't. I can't show up to classes hungover anymore."

"You can limit yourself to one!" Cana pointed out.

Letting out a laugh, Erza just shook her head again, "And you should know that's all it takes to get me hammered."

Cana just nodded at that, flashing a smile, "You got me there."

"Think fast!" Bacchus suddenly shouted. Erza turned towards him and saw something flying at her, and she was able to react quickly enough to catch it. It was a can of soda. "Y'know, since you ain't gonna drink." He paused for a moment, "...You might not wanna open that for a few seconds. I didn't think that through."

"Yeah, I don't want to get soaked before this starts. But thanks though." Erza grinned his way.

Bacchus slung his arm around Erza then, pulling her closer to the action, "Do ya' know how this stuff works?"

Erza shook her head. Cana slid into the conversation, "This is our first time, man." She pointed out, speaking into her cup of beer.

"Fair 'nough. Alright, so I hope you brought some cash with ya', because how this is judged is that teams go up against each other and dance to a song they picked beforehand, but they also have to dance to a song the other team decides! The winner is judged by audience reaction, so whoever gets the loudest screams, wins. The cash is to show your support. They like it when they get paid."

"So… like a stripper?" Cana asked. Her expression was entirely serious.

"Not that far off!" Bacchus laughed, "But for real, it's like, polite or somethin'. You should really shove some money their way. They get like a guitar case or somethin' out for it once it's underway. You'll see."

Erza nodded along, crossing her arms, "Alright, I think I got it. I'll keep it in mind." Her eyes drifted across the people amongst the crowd. The crowd was pretty organized, gathered in a huge circle to allow room for the dancers, though no dancer was out yet. Erza was trying to scan the people for who she thought the dancers would be. One thing she noticed was how she and Cana were practically the only women there. Her cheeks puffed out at that; she didn't mind, but it was a little disappointing. She couldn't resonate with anyone so far. She didn't know who she'd fork her money over to.

"Ah, man…" Bacchus stretched an arm over his head, getting himself psyched up for the show, "I hope that trio from last time is here… God, the hell were they called again? The… Pussycat… Dolls? Wait, no, that ain't it… Damn, I must've been more wasted than I thought.."

"Not surprising…" Cana again spoke into her cup.

"Pot, meet kettle." Erza laughed under her breath, shaking her head.

Before Bacchus or Cana could protest, everyone was silenced by a loud, screeching mic. The crowd all looked to the DJ station, where the DJ was holding the mic.

"LET'S GET THIS SHOW STARTED!" The DJ, whose name was actually DJ, shouted into the mic, earning him excited shouts from the crowd and applause. Erza clapped her hands together, feeling a little out of place with these energetic, wild fans. Cana and Bacchus fit right in.

"TONIGHT'S FEUD IS THE BIGGEST AND BADDEST! WE GOT A LONG-STANDING RIVALRY HERE! OUR FIRST TEAM IS NONE OTHER THAN THE DEVILS IN THE DARK!" DJ motioned towards a quartet of men who stepped out into the circle, causing the audience to shout in excitement.

Erza only raised a brow curiously and looked at Bacchus, nudging him with her elbow, "Is this the bunch you were talking about that were super good?"

Bacchus shook his head, "Nah, ain't them. It was a trio."

"I dunno about you two, but this bunch looks super good…" Cana nodded in approvement, raising her glass.

"AND THEN WE GOT THE SABERTOOTH TIGERS! AND GET THIS, FOLKS! THEIR FRONTMAN, RIGORA, USED TO BE A MEMBER OF THE DEVILS IN THE DARK! IT'S SOME REAL BEEF IN HERE TONIGHT! OOOOHHH!" DJ cheered, and the audience joined in out of surprise.

"The Sabertooth Tigers! There we go!" Bacchus snapped his fingers proudly.

"How the hell did you get The Pussycat Dolls from that?" Cana huffed, furrowing her eyebrows.

Bacchus shrugged with a laugh, "I told ya'! I was wasted as hell!"

Erza's focus, however, was on the dance group itself. Immediately two guys entered the circle. One of the guys was blond and had his hair spiked up, and he was dressed in a lot of fur and tight-fitting clothes. He seemed to be the more energetic of the bunch, and he dragged his thumb across his neck at the Devils in the Dark as light from the parking garage reflected off his single earring. The other guy was a stark contrast, with black hair and baggy, dark clothes. His expression was entirely stoic, almost bothered and angered, and he stared down the Devils as well. That was two of the tigers, but… didn't Bacchus say they were a trio? Or did Bacchus drunkenly mix up the details again? Whatever it was, Erza's answers came shortly enough, and they sure floored her.

The light and dark tiger were standing side by side, but they were shoved away by someone behind them, and that someone stepped out in front of them both. They had long black hair underneath their "OBEY" hat, and some of the hair was done in braids on either side of their head. They were wearing baggy black pants, a purple crop top that read "HUSTLER," and a grey sweatshirt was tied around their waist. A blue tattoo was situated right above their left hipbone, and their exposed stomach was incredibly toned… Erza found herself biting her lip at the sight, and then the figure had lifted up the visor of their hat, revealing a very feminine face done to the nines in makeup. She was the only other girl there besides Cana and Erza, and she was the frontman of The Sabertooth Tigers. Where was that money bin Bacchus was talking about before? Erza was ready to throw her entire life savings into that bin for this dancer…

Cana looked at Erza then back to Bacchus, "Something tells me she found a team she likes…" She mused in a teasing voice.

Bacchus smirked at the sight of Erza practically drooling, "Keep an eye on the sis, yeah? We don't want her to throw away all of her money just because she's thirstin'."

Pursing her lips, Cana waved her hand in front of Erza. "I think she's so far gone she can't even move to reach her purse!" She said, laughing.

"AFTER LOSING THE COIN TOSS, THE TEAM DUKING IT OUT FIRST WILL BE THE DEVILS IN THE DARK!" DJ doubletapped on the trackpad of his laptop, starting the music, "LET'S GO!"

The start of The Devils In the Dark's song sounded damn near satanic, but Erza drowned it out as best as she could. Her focus couldn't be on them if she tried. She was spellbound by that tigress just by her strolling out into the circle. If she was that taken back by that tigress merely walking, she was going to be destroyed by the time the tigress actually danced, if Bacchus's word was of any merit. Erza watched as the tigress talked with the two males on either side of her, whispering between themselves. She tried to read their lips since their words were drowned out by the music. There was something the blond one said that she couldn't quite make out with his lips due to it not exactly matching up with what he was saying prior. Could he have said the tigress's name? Off of the blond's mouth, it seemed as if he was saying 'Minerva'... Well, Erza would just assume she was named Minerva then.

Soon the song faded out, and Erza was jolted from reality at that point. She had caught absolutely none of the Devils' performance. Not that she really cared; all four of those men were pretty ugly and unappealing. No wonder Minerva seemingly defected from them. They were pathetic.

Minerva lifted her hand closest to DJ and snapped her fingers. DJ didn't even give them an introduction; that action of Minerva's alone was enough. It was obvious who was really in charge here.

Before Erza could stare for too long, Bacchus nudged her with his elbow, "I know ya' got a clear fave already, but keep an eye out on those two fellas by her sides. They were the Twin Dragons before the tigress came along. They were legendary in their own right, but now they're even bigger and badder with that sister by their side!"

Erza only nodded, and both of them knew that Erza wasn't actually going to take her eyes off Minerva. It was worth a shot, though.

A clear distinction between the Tigers and the Devils was that while the Devils focused on hard, heavy moves and techniques, the Tigers were more fluid with their movements, the in-betweens of wow moves just as captivating as the wow moves themselves. Everything was so expertly linked together, flowing with ease, and it oozed mastery. When the chorus came, suddenly the Tigers' movements exploded into something far faster and harder, but their synchronization and fluidity remained even with the change of pace. Minerva moved with grace, every move executed with precision and purpose, and there was no mistake or stumble in sight. The icing on the cake was when the end of the chorus came and there was a slower break, which led to the body waves in the choreography. Erza watched how Minerva's hips and body rolled with ease, how Minerva drew in her bottom lip and smirked as she moved, how Minerva far outclassed the word sexy with her confidence and swagger. The body waves drew out raucous cheers from the audience, Cana included probably in support of the Twin Dragons, but Erza was the opposite, stunned into sheer silence as she stared. The breath had been knocked out from her body, her mouth agape. She was taken entirely.

Even when the song ended, Erza wasn't freed from her captivation. She was fixated on the rise and fall of Minerva's chest from being out of breath. She couldn't help but notice the added glow on Minerva's skin from the sweat of all the fast and constant movement. It was around that point where Erza finally opened that can of soda she got from Bacchus. She was getting pretty thirsty. Even she was seeing that now.

She forced herself to focus on the Devils when their challenge song rolled around. The Tigers gave them a pretty difficult song to dance to on the spot seeing as it wasn't hip-hop, as the lot of underground dancers were typically used to. It was a simple song, almost slow with its groovy instrumentals. For a group accustomed to hard and heavy moves, being forced into a song where there were no explosive instrumentals was a severe disadvantage to the Devils. The Tigers picked well. Somehow, however, the Devils were able to incorporate some hard, rigid moves into the song by matching the drum beat, and it appealed greatly to the audience. They were earning loud cheers, but Erza couldn't see the appeal at all. Then again, she was heavily biased at this point. There was no looking at the Devils objectively anymore.

Even if the Devils sucked, Erza had to applaud their tactics in choosing a song for the Tigers to dance to, for many reasons too. Seeing as the frontman and visual of the Tigers was female, the Devils chose a song that was sexy but in a very masculine and aggressive way in an attempt to trip up Minerva. The Twin Dragons were able to fall in line with the music and atmosphere easily, moving smoothly to the beat and taking up at the front of the formation. It was smart, being at the front and nearly shielding Minerva from sight at first. Their moves were appeasing the crowd as is; Cana was losing it over those two. However, it seemed like they were just out front in order to stall, since Minerva returned to the front when the chorus hit, reinvigorated after feeling the music for some while. She was able to plan out some moves to the song while she let the Twin Dragons take up the front, so it made for an explosive return when she hopped back in front. She fully immersed herself in the atmosphere of the music, juggling between quick, sharp movements and slow, flowing ones. Every move had a scandalous flair to it, matching the tone of the song, and Minerva's body flowed so perfectly to the music. It was as if she were floating with every movement, gliding easily across the pavement and moving as if she were weightless. The sex appeal wasn't lost on Erza as well. She was even more entranced than in the last song, if that were even possible. Minerva's expressions as she danced, biting her lip, letting her eyes fall half-lidded, every quirk of her brow… Erza was gone. She was ready to throw all her money at the Tigers. She was completely fine with that.

It seemed as if the Devils weren't expecting the Tigers to adapt so easily to their song, so already their confidence in winning was fading. Their expressions turned sour and they shook their heads, grunting in anger and irritation as they turned away and stormed off. They tried to salvage their reputation by rebelling, calling the whole thing rigged. That was a forfeit if Erza's ever seen one. She wanted the Devils to be crushed.

"LOOKS LIKE THE SABERTOOTH TIGERS WIN THIS ONE BY DEFAULT! LET'S GIVE IT UP FOR THE VICTOOOOOOOORS!" DJ shouted, throwing his hands in the air. He blasted some music to celebrate too.

"WILD!" Bacchus crushed his empty red cup in his hands from the energy flowing through him.

Cana was shimmying to the music that was playing, sure to keep her drink safe so it wouldn't spill, "This music ain't half bad… I could probably join one of these dance battles at this rate, eh?"

"We'd make the wildest dance team! Ain't that right, Erza?" Bacchus looked to his side in search for some sort of agreement, but Erza had vanished. Narrowing his eyes suspiciously, Bacchus looked around and spotted her following the lead of some of the other guests, tossing some bills into a case. Bacchus could only flash a sly expression at the sight, "To think the sis was tryna bail on us tonight! Bet she enjoyed it more than we did!"

"I dunno, man.. Those guys were some nice eye candy…" Cana lifted her cup to that, starting off after Erza, "I got a thirst deposit to make too!"

Bacchus hurled his crushed cup towards a far-off trash can with perfect accuracy from tons of practice before following the two girls, "Ain't nothing wrong with some good ol' physical appreciation, I guess!"

When Erza finally got to that cash case, she noticed how the Tigers were standing there and chatting amongst themselves, with Minerva's back to the case for the most part. Erza got out the money she wanted to leave before walking up and throwing it in, and there she saw Minerva glance over her shoulder and look Erza over before flashing a sly grin. Erza's expression looked blank for a moment in response, but she hurriedly spun on her heel and turned away, dragging Cana off with her with widened eyes.

"Wha- hey! Let me be thirsty too! What the hell?!" Cana shouted, trying to fight against Erza's grip.

"She smiled at me." Erza said in a hushed voice, "I've been noticed."

"Oh my god, you are so pathetic!" Cana growled with a shake of her head, "So what?!"

"Ladies, ladies…" Bacchus slid into the conversation and slowly but surely guided the two of them away from each other, "Remember the rules! No fighting unless it's certain each person has had an equal amount to drink! And you, sister, are sober!" He turned his attention to Erza in that moment.

Rolling her eyes, Erza glanced over to the Tigers again. The Twin Dragons were walking the opposite way, and there was Minerva, looking right at Erza, beckoning her forward with her two fingers. Erza just watched as Minerva spun away after that, almost certain Erza would follow eventually. "Hey guys…"

"What now?" Cana crossed her arms.

"Remember that Halloween where I drank so much that I let you guys convince me to crash that one party dressed as a fairy?"

"That night was wild! No one ever let ya' live that one down and they all just kept calling you Fairy Queen!" Bacchus smiled at the memory, "But, uh… why the sudden trip down memory lane, sis?"

"We all know that ain't you anymore." Cana pursed her lips, glancing Erza over.

Erza shook her head, "Bad Decision Titania's not dead." She ran after Minerva once she said that, not even sparing Bacchus and Cana a second glance.

Bacchus pointed after Erza as she ran off, looking over at Cana, "Now that's wild."

"Welp." Cana smacked her lips and just strolled right back over to the money case, "At least now I can give my money over in peace…" And she set her cash down on the pile with a flourish.

Meanwhile, Erza had followed Minerva into a deeper portion of the lot, situated underneath the ramp that led to the upper levels. Erza slowed down from her near sprint, looking to level her breathing before reaching Minerva so she didn't look too desperate, and her heels clicked on the floor and echoed throughout the garage as she approached the hideout under the ramp.

"So…" Minerva spoke, not even facing Erza but her voice still able to carry to the other, "I take it this is your first time around here?" She asked with a knowing tone, gaze fixated on something she was working through on the table in the little hideout.

The fact that Minerva wasn't actively looking made Erza react normally, instead of trying to be composed. She smiled nervously, shoulders sagging, "Is it that obvious?"

"Well, I had hoped you weren't a regular that made a habit of dropping that much money every time. That would be a sure fire way to run anyone broke." Minerva laughed to herself, turning around and leaning against the table, "Besides, girls aren't too common around these parts, and I surely would've remembered one with such vibrant red hair showing up before."

Erza ducked her head to keep her face out of view, brushing some hair behind her ear out of embarrassment. Minerva was onto her, that was for sure. "Heh… You're right. My friends dragged me here for a night out. They're the partying type."

Minerva tilted her head, an amused and intrigued look on her face, "Sounds like you weren't exactly a willing party out there tonight." Yet she did not falter in the slightest.

"I was looking forward to a nice night of sleep before my 8am class tomorrow. That never happens." Erza tried to laugh to soften the blow. It came out very forced and awkward. "Though… my 'unwilling' mind changed once I got here."

Letting out a satisfied hum, Minerva pulled off her hat and ran a hand through her hair to fix it. Her face was much more clear to Erza now that the visor wasn't blocking most of it, and Erza drew in her bottom lip between her teeth at the sight. That was not lost on Minerva in the slightest, and Minerva pushed herself off the table and started walking closer. "That's good to hear. It really is refreshing to see more women around here… Sometimes all the men around becomes a bit of a drag, you know?"

"I would imagine." Erza noticed how Minerva was moving closer, and she wound up taking a few slow steps back. Her heel hit something however, and she realized how she had walked her way towards a large support column. She was only a few inches away from having her back pressed against it, and she glanced back to Minerva who wasn't deterred in the slightest. "Uh…" Erza stammered, struggling to find something to say. Her eyes wandered Minerva's body- brilliant move, eyes -and Erza remembered how Minerva was only wearing a sleeveless crop top. "Aren't you… cold?"

Minerva shrugged indifferently, placing a hand on her hip. "Doesn't bother me." She had backed Erza up against that support column, and there she rested the flat of her arm against the concrete above Erza's head, barely any space between them. There was still room for Erza to slip out if she so wished, but Erza again biting her lip and letting her eyes wander more told Minerva that that probably wasn't happening. "Care to give a lady your name?"

"Erza." She had managed to cough out. Restraining herself was growing damn near impossible.

Minerva grinned at that, "They call me Rigora around these parts, but… for you, I think you can call me Minerva."

Erza managed to smile in response, letting out a laugh, "What an honor.."

"What can I say? I like you already." Minerva tilted her head, speaking in a coquettish voice.

Hearing Minerva's tone so seductive and smooth was Erza's breaking point in holding herself back, and suddenly her hand slipped around to the back of Minerva's neck. "Thank god…" She whispered, voice laced with desire as she pulled Minerva towards her and joined their lips together at last. Minerva half expected for Erza to have jumped on her the second the conversation started, so she wasn't surprised in the slightest and merely closed her eyes and jumped in when Erza forced their bodies together.

Erza's back was fully pressed against the support column now with Minerva's weight against her, though she couldn't bring herself to care about being so caught within Minerva's trap. The only thing she could think about was how Minerva wedged her leg between Erza's own, and how Erza had somehow come to wrap her leg around Minerva's waist. Minerva's free hand came to grip Erza's thigh, her nails digging in enough that Erza could feel the pinch through the fabric of her pants. It brought out a moan from Erza during the kiss, and that caused Minerva to let out a low laugh when she pulled away for air. Instead of diving back in for Erza's lips, Minerva instead trailed down Erza's jawline until her lips definitively settled on the base of Erza's neck and attacked fully. Erza threw her head back, biting down on her lip with a soft moan at the sheer intoxication sensation brought on by Minerva sucking on and toying with the skin of Erza's neck with her teeth. Gradually Erza's hands wandered Minerva's body, and soon Erza was reaching up underneath the loose fabric of Minerva's top until Minerva seized both of Erza's wrists in her grasp.

Minerva guided Erza's hands off of her as Erza only got a fleeting touch of her chest, and her fingers fumbled with Erza's own while Minerva pulled away from Erza's neck. "Let's not forget about that 8am class now… You wouldn't sleep a wink tonight if I let this go any further." Minerva laughed under her breath, voice still carrying that salacious tone even if she were the one to break things off. What a tease.

Erza pursed her lips together and let out a heavy exhale, still out of breath from what had happened. She damn near let out a whimper of protest in response too, but she followed Minerva's lead and slowly lowered her leg from around Minerva's waist as well as freed her hands from Minerva's own. "...Right. I should go."

"Oh, come on. Don't sound so disappointed, Erza." Minerva leaned in closer, a smirk on her lips, "I fully intend on finishing what I started. I just know that if I kept you up any later, you'd feel like hell in the morning. That's why you were so apprehensive about coming out here tonight, right?"

Letting out a sigh, Erza crossed her arms and leaned against the column. Judging by how intense that got in a few moments, Erza figured if she let it go all the way, she would never be able to fight the exhaustion during class. She hated how Minerva had a point there. "Uh-huh. And just how are we going to get around to finishing this?" There was a hint of bite to her words as she spoke.

Minerva only raised an eyebrow, impressed by such bite. She reached down to the jacket wrapped around her waist and started to untie it, and it was like a smack to the face for Erza, watching Minerva take it off but for no purpose. "Easy, now. I'm here every week with Sting and Rogue. I have a feeling we'll run across each other far before then, though." She teased, throwing her jacket on and adjusting it before stepping back to pick up some of the things she had stashed in that little hideout.

"If you say so." Erza pushed herself off the column, arms still crossed.

"Enough with the glum look." Minerva walked back towards Erza after grabbing her hat and bag, slinging the latter over her shoulder. She took Erza's chin between her index finger and thumb, "I always follow through on what I say and do. I'll make sure we get what we both want."

Erza couldn't fight that, and instead she loosened up some and let her arms fall to her sides. It brought a playful grin to Minerva's lips.

"Better." Minerva said, walking past and waving halfheartedly behind her, "Catch you around, Erza. I'm sure I'll see you soon…" And her last note was a low snicker.

Erza could only watch as Minerva walked off, letting out a heavy sigh. She couldn't believe she just got led on by the underground dancing tiger.

Her hopes and dreams of a long good night's sleep were squashed the second Erza left her apartment to join Bacchus and Cana, and she only got a few hours in by the time she returned home. It felt like hell to roll out of bed in the morning and get herself ready for class, but she made enough coffee to power through it.

Erza was one of the first to arrive to the lecture hall, and she slid into one of the seats in the back. She didn't want to risk accidentally falling asleep in class in a front row seat, so she took the safe route in taking a seat far away from the professor. That way, if she passed out in class, it wouldn't be that noticeable. She took a long drink of coffee from her mug to try and get herself attentive enough to focus, but as she expected, it wasn't working very well. It seemed as if she would just have to suffer through the day.

Suddenly, while Erza had admittedly half-lulled herself back to sleep, she heard a voice nearby.

"Is this seat taken?" The female asked in a droll.

Erza rolled her eyes and sighed. The lecture hall was near empty and this person wanted to take a seat right next to Erza. She still cleared up some of her sprawled up belongings, clearing up a seat to her left. "No, go ahead." She spared a quick glance at the evil female who was pulling this stunt on her, catching a glimpse of how her black hair was cleanly pulled back into a tight, high ponytail without a single strand out of place.

The female smoothly slid into the seat next to Erza, setting her bag down and leaning back in her chair. "My, my… Here I thought you would be happier to see me, Erza. I told you we'd be running into each other soon."

Erza groggily looked over at the female, a raised eyebrow distinguishing itself from a blank, exhausted expression. She didn't say anything. She was just confused and annoyed.

"Don't tell me you've already forgotten…" She spun some of the fabric of the bottom of her sweater around her finger before lifting it up, flashing a blue tattoo right above her left hipbone.

The realization hit Erza like a brick to the face, and she suddenly blinked a few times as her eyes shot wide. "Minerva?!" It was easy for her to miss; Minerva looked completely different than she had the night prior. She was in a grey sweater and black leather pants, and her makeup was less colorful than the warpaint-esque look she had before. The flawless ponytail threw her off as well, but Erza realized that the stark red of Minerva's lips was the exact same. She had spent enough time staring to know.

Minerva only smiled slyly as a result, lowering her sweater over her stomach again, "I knew that red hair was familiar from the second I saw you at the lot. Hearing you complain about your morning class only solidified things. The world's smaller than one might expect, no? Looks like we're classmates."

"And you're the one who always shows up to class looking so perfect and stylish that it puts the rest of us dead-inside students to shame…" Erza commented, eyes taking in Minerva unabashedly, "I would have never envisioned you and her being the same after last night…"

"What can I say? I do have a bit of a wild side…" Minerva teased, that coquettish voice from the night before returning. She leaned closer so that her lips were right by Erza's ear, and she rested her hand on Erza's thigh as she did so, "Once this class is over, I say we have some unfinished business to get to, don't we? I'm not through with you yet, Erza.."

Minerva's seductive whisper sent chills down Erza's spine, causing her to close her eyes and shudder in anticipation. It felt as if her cheeks were burning and up in flames, but even so, there was a ghost of a smile on her lips.

Erza didn't pay attention to a single word of her professor's lecture. She could only think of what paradise awaited her once class was over.

It was everything she expected and then some.

[onlydevilsleft]

Which Unpopular Archetype Are You?

Kayce Dutton you’re The Loyal || it’s a good thing you’re so patient. you know what it’s like to feel the full weight of doubt bearing down in you. for years, it tried to squeeze the life from your lungs. but nothing’s going to make you bow. you kept the candle’s flame alive. you whispered the names at nightfall. the vigil still lives inside of you. one day, the waiting will have been worth it. all your love is going to come home to you. you’re more important than you know. you’re still the one true believer. / / personality: calm, level-headed, stubborn / / counterpart: the accomplice

tagged by: @xx--ofmanythoughts--xx​

tagging: @beckheiress​ / @forgedunderfire​ / @princessviseyna​ / @thatslayer​ / @xgoldxnhour​ / @blxsscd-x-fxrsakcn​ / and Y O U

[onlydevilsleft]

[onlydevilsleft]

The best man I’ve ever known. I love you, Kayce Dutton. With all my heart and soul. With everything I have. - Love, Always, Cara

@comefightme

[onlydevilsleft]

{{ something to tide us over until I get my new screen caps and icons… thank you Kayce Dutton Fanpage on insta. }}

[onlydevilsleft]

if they could meet/talk to one person, dead or alive, who would it be?  what would they say to them? ( for Kayce )

@thatslayer

Kayce's eyes go somewhere, somewhere else. Far, far away from here. It haunts him, still, what happened that day. It was a tragic accident and one a boy like him shouldn't have had to witness. Unfortunately, he did and had, and had taken all of the blame onto himself for. Not being able to save her...

His eyes came back up to Faith, as she'd asked the question. She hadn't realized what it would do. But it had the effect all the same, regardless of intent. "My mama." His voice was extremely small for a man in his thirties. Somehow stuck at the age the tragedy occurred whenever he relived it, revisited it. "She lef' when I was so li'l. Died. I... I waited with her fer s'long an' I never thought t'say goodbye." So many moons ago and still it shook him to his core. Hands shake, he fists them tight until the skin stretched over his knuckles hurts, then releases. "I would jus'...wanna say goodbye. An'...say I love you...one las' time."

[onlydevilsleft]

The way you write Kayce J, gives me life. He's such a bean, and he has my whole heart honestly. Please keep writing him like that, I have a urge to protect that long haired cowboy, he needs it. much love to you and Kayce J.

{{ he's so grateful for that. and so am i, tbh. sometimes i wonder if i do him justice because the character as it is on the show is so vast and lovingly crafted. by luke, more than even taylor sheridan. i tweak things because i believe he deserves better than the monica we get from canon. but the rest i pretty much keep intact. as much of a warrior as he is, he's a lover. he needs to be needed and at all times, take care of those he loves, if he can. he's pure of heart and his soul leads. it probably gets him into the majority of the trouble he's ever been in but he does it with a clean conscience, the best of intent, and not everyone can say that. i really appreciate that you love my Kayce J. :3 }}

[onlydevilsleft]

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[onlydevilsleft]

[onlydevilsleft]

@comefightme | just look at this smug cutie :3