⭐️ “you know it’s okay to let me carry your weight for a bit, right?”
📖 summary: it’s been hard healing from your traumatic past. with no trust in the world, and uncertainty at every corner; it’s tough to navigate through your world. abby helps you find the right path.
remember, you are responsible for the media you consume.
content warning: soft!abby, traumatized!reader, gentle!abby, nightmares, panic attack, traumatic past, upset!reader, no use of y/n.
it’s been seven months since you were brought to the wlf’s military base in seattle. a girl called abby found you in a storm while patrolling. you couldn’t have been heavier than 90 pounds even soaking wet, your clothes old and tattered.
life has been better since then. steady and certain. you didn’t have to worry about food, infections or zombies anymore. but time doesn’t heal all wounds.
luckily, you and abby have grown close. she’s stubborn, difficult and frustrating. but you love her. you see sides of her that are often kept hidden away. she’s patient, she’s gentle and she’s strong.
she’s your rock, more than anything.
you have difficulty trusting people, even yourself. even though you’re surrounded by the stability of your new home, you still feel wary. you’ve learnt to be careful with the things you hold close to your heart.
you do trust abby. she’s the light you had been looking for. yet, it’s difficult to let go of your past.
so when you wake up sweating and trembling in the middle of the night, it’s abby you run to.
you lift her duvet and crawl into bed with her, soaking up her warmth and safety. you never feel threatened around abby, even with the memories or raiders, zombies and death fresh in your mind.
she barely stirs, used to your presence in her bed by now. you feel strong arms wrap around your torso and her chin settling on the top of your head. your legs tangle together and you breathe in the smell of her.
“what’s wrong, doll?” she murmurs drowsily, making sure you’re properly tucked into the heat of her blanket.
you shrug, making her frown and lean back a little.
“you don’t wanna talk about it?”
you shrug again, your mind whirling with thousands of things you want to say but can’t get past your lips. your throat constricts, your lungs caving in on themselves and for a brief moment it feels like you’ll have a heart attack.
but then abby talks. you can’t exactly make out what she’s saying, although you do know her voice brings you back to your baseline.
she’s like a breath of fresh air, the first flower that blooms at the start of spring.
“— you know it’s okay to let me carry your weight for a bit, right?” is the first thing you register when your ears stop ringing.
all you can do is nod along, holding onto her and hoping nothing will ever rip her away from you.
“atta girl. deep breaths.” she grumbles against your temple, keeping you held against her chest until your panic subsides and your breathing starts to settle.
you tell her things that night, giving her little parts of your past in a way you haven’t in years.
eventually you doze off in a moment of silence. abby promises herself to never let you go.
AN: lowkey proud of what I’ve created here. i wrote this omw to vacation 😉
