I might not love all my fics equally, but I hold love for each of them nonetheless. I hope you enjoy reading them as much as I did writing them.
The Walking Dead 🧟
Pinterest board for Vance here (x)
'You Still Were' Mini-series (3)
TWD: There Will Come A Day When You Won't Be (pt.1)
TWD: The Morning You Still Were (pt.2)
TWD: The Afternoon You Left (pt.3)
Immunity Mini series (3)
TWD: Immunity (pt.1)
TWD: Humanity (pt.2)
TWD: Frailty (pt.3)
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The Last Of Us 🍄
TLOU: Ellie WIlliams x reader NSFW
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Percy Jackson and the Olympians 🔱
PJO: Ares fem reader x Percy Jackson HoH
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Arcane League of Legends🔵
Florist and the Crime Lord mini series (2)
ALOL: Silco x fem reader pt 2 of the florist and the crime lord series
ALOL: Silco x fem reader pt 1 of the florist and the crime lord series
ALOL: Jayce Talis x fem reader NSFW
ALOL: Silco NSFW
ALOL: another (REQUESTED) Silco NSFW
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The Umbrella Files ☂️
The Umbrella Academy AU is ongoing and has two other authors working on it. You can find their chapters of this AU on their pages where you can read the story from their perspective. @thestardustseven and @cl0udy3
The Umbrella Files (Umbrella Academy AU) Masterlist:
Ep.1 Second Chance
Backstory
Tape 1: Assimilation
Tape 357: Trial
Tape 365: Terminated
Lab Report 1: One
Lab Report 15: Two
Lab Report 16: Three
Lab Report 17: Four
Lab Report 19: Five
Lab Report 20: Six
Lab Report 22: Seven
Upcoming projects:
TWD: Immunity mini-series, finale posted! 5/8/26
TWD: You Still Were mini-series, last updated: 06/03/26
This is a part of an optional continuation of the one shot, The Day Will Come When You Won't Be. This story uses elements from the one shot, so it's recommended that you read that one and part two before reading this one. Story takes place around season 7 with changes to canon because it made sense for the story, and I'm doing this from memory. One shot linked here, and Part Two linked here.
A/N: Please note that I forgot there's a Mikey in canon, I'm in far too deep to change his name so the Mikey below is my own character.
General tags: TWD, mlm, slight angst, depictions of violence, homophobia (during pride month? I know, my uploading schedule is terrible). original character(s)
Word count: 11, 103
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Prolouge:
Usually, Vance could sleep like a log. The never ending cycle of chores in Alexandria always served to tire him out by the end of the day. But tonight, something managed to wake him up. Vance turned to see Carl laying next to him, all but sprawled out in his bed. He had tangled his legs with Vance’s, and somehow managed to get half of his arm underneath Vance. Vance never knew how the other boy could move so much in his sleep but considering this was something Carl had done since he was a kid, Vance shouldn’t have expected anything else. Vance shifted on the bed, moving Carl’s arm out from underneath him and setting it aside. Vance reached over to brush some hair away from Carl's face so he could see the other better.
It was easy for Vance to forget that they weren’t little kids anymore. That they’d survived this long and grew up despite everything. It was also easy for him to forget that he wasn’t alone anymore. He was used to being by himself. Even here in the house he shared with Carol as Carl’s house didn’t have another room for him, he was never alone. Even with Carol constantly out of the house and helping out around Alexandria, Carl was always there to keep him company. The boy sound asleep next to him. Vance traced the line of Carl's jaw, fingers lingering on his chin as he resisted the urge to kiss the other. He didn’t want to wake him. Not yet at least. Vance reached up to fix the bandage over Carl’s eye. He knew about how insecure the scar made Carl feel. Carl never had to say it out loud. Vance could see it in the way he was constantly adjusting it. Moving his hair in front of the bandage to hide it. Going as far as to wear it to bed
Vance slowly untangled himself from Carl, getting up out of bed and stretching. He ought to get ready for today. Vance checked his watch. He didn’t have anything else planned for the day. No hunts until the weekend. Maybe he could help out in the garden. It was nice working there. When the sun wasn’t out, that is. The sun could be Vance’s mortal enemy sometimes.
Vance caught sight of something in his backpack. He walked over, kneeling down and grabbing it. A faded yellow Polaroid camera. One of those instant ones. Michonne had grabbed it for him a long time ago. Vance liked taking pictures of things. He didn’t know what happened to his old ones. Lost when the prison fell most likely. Vance opened it up. He only had two pictures left. Vance turned to look over at Carl. He decided that a picture of him was a good use of his last film. Maybe he could get a second one of them sitting together or something later. The thought made Vance’s heart warm up.
Vance walked over to the bed, lifting the camera up to his eye. Carl seemed peaceful, one hand on the pillow and one resting lazily over his chest. His mouth was slightly open, and Vance couldn’t help but snort when he saw the line of drool connecting to his pillow. He had told Carl a dozen times that he drooled in his sleep, but Carl would vehemently deny it, claiming that it was Vance.
Motivated now by both the idea of having evidence and the idea of having a picture of Carl, Vance took the picture. Unfortunately, he forgot about the flash, which ended up waking Carl. Oh well, it was about time for him to wake up anyway. Vance lowered the camera, grabbing the picture and starting to shake it so it could develop. “Morning sleepyhead.” Vance called as Carl reached out a hand to search for him.
Carl reached up to rub the sleep out of his eye. “Time is it…?” He mumbled. Carl paused and reached up to his mouth, turning away to wipe the drool.
Vance reached over to his nightstand, grabbing a watch and a daisy braided bracelet. He pulled them both on, checking the time. “About six thirty-eight.”
Carl let out a groan. “Why’d you wake me so early?” He glanced at Vance’s bedside window, pulling the curtain back a little to see the outside. “The sun is barely getting up.”
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Vance sat down, looking down at the film to see how it'd developed. He could barely see the beginnings of Carl on the bed. He handed Carl the photograph. “Wanted to take this.”
Carl held the photograph, staring blankly as he waited for it to develop. When it did, he squinted and brought it closer to his face. “Is that me?” He asked. Vance wanted to laugh at his expression. It was like he didn’t recognize himself.
“Yeah.” Vance said, feeling a little shy now. “I uhm. Wanted a picture of you.”
“You wanted a picture of me.” Carl repeated. “Why? I’m here next to you aren’t I?”
“Well, yeah but…”
“But what?” Carl looked away from the picture. “It’s not like you’re leaving, right?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
Vance rolled his eyes. He wanted to laugh at the idea of him going anywhere. Alexandria was like home. He wouldn’t dream of leaving. Not without his family at least. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“And neither am I. So this is… sort of pointless,” despite his somewhat harsh words, he handed Vance the photo back.
“To you maybe.” Vance muttered, feeling a little protective over his picture. “But sometimes I’m out on hunts for a long time. Nothing to do. It’d be nice if I had a picture of you to look at every now and then.”
Carl let out a breathy laugh. “You sound like one of those soldiers who carry their wife’s picture in their hats.”
Vance rolled his eyes again. “You’d make a terrible wife.”
Carl frowned. “I’d be an amazing wife.”
“Sure.” Vance snickered. “You’d be the kind of wife that I come home and find you asleep in the weirdest of places.” He reached over to the edge of the bed to grab a pair of jeans on the floor, pulling a wallet out. Carl's wallet, he realized. He opened it, spotting a picture of a younger him and Carl standing in front of a bar. Vance paused, running his thumb over the plastic that held the photograph, meant for his drivers license that he’d never get. Even if you could still get one today, Carl's driving was so bad Vance would wear two seatbelts.
Carl peeked over Vance’s shoulder, spotting the picture. “Man. That was… a long time ago.” He looked up at Vance. “You’ve matured since then.” He said, reaching up to flick Vance’s ear.
“I couldn’t stay a kid forever.” Vance replied, rubbing his ear. “Everyone has to grow up sometime, right?” He glanced back at Carl.
Carl let out a sigh. “You never let that go.”
“I did let it go. I just never forgot it.” Vance handed Carl his wallet. “I can’t believe you kept that after all this time.” He admitted, reaching down for his jeans and grabbing his wallet out of those. He took the Polaroid he had just taken, and slid it into the slot with a plastic cover, safely tucking it away. He gently traced Carl's face in the picture with his thumb.
“Thats one of the only good memories I have of you from when we were kids. You were so annoying that every time I talked to you I wanted to run into the arms of the nearest walker.” Carl said, thumbing his wallet as he looked down at the photo. “Hey, if you have a picture of me then it’s only fair I have a picture of you, right?” Carl asked, leaning his front against Vance’s back so he could lay his chin on Vance’s shoulders. He did that on purpose sometimes. Carl knew how to get what he wanted from Vance. And Vance… well he never really found it in him to tell the other no.
“Right, after you just said I was so annoying you’d rather feed yourself to a walker?” Vance rolled his eyes and rested his head against Carl's. “You have that picture of us as kids.” He pointed out.
“So? I want a picture of you now. You’re not as annoying anymore.”
“Gee, I’m so glad that you can tolerate me.” Vance muttered. “Maybe you will make a good wife.” He picked up the camera he’d set aside, hesitating. There was one photo left. He didn’t want to waste it on himself. He’d rather put it to better use.
Carl grabbed the camera from him, opening it to see the singular film left. “Oh perfect. I get to use the last film on you.” He said with a smile, leaning back.
Vance reluctantly let him take the camera. “You want me to lay down or something?” He asked, referring to the picture of Carl he’d just taken.
“I mean it would be nice, but I’ve got to use this film wisely. I only get one shot at this.” Carl got up out of bed, giving Vance a view of the others back and the smooth curve of it. Vance’s face flushed a deep red and he quickly looked away. Vance had only seen the sight a few times. When they’d gone swimming together, or when they’d come back from the field and Carl wanted to take a shower in Vance’s house. The images made his face redder and Vance reached up to harshly rub his cheeks, as if that could take the color off.
He heard a rustling of fabric and looked back up just in time for Carl to throw a flannel in Vance’s face. Vance let it hit, watching as it landed on his lap. He picked up the blue and grey flannel, the one that Carl had taken off last night, raising an eyebrow at Carl. “Are we just abusing me with clothes now?” He asked, flipping it so the sleeves were no longer inside out.
“No. Put it on.”
Vance nodded slowly. “Oh I see. You’re a professional photographer now.” He teased as he pulled on the flannel. He was about to button it up when Carl stopped him.
“Leave it open.” Carl ordered.
Vance reluctantly pulled his hands away from the buttons. “I’m going to look like a lame lumberjack.” He mumbled, glancing down at himself in his boxers and Carl’s flannel. “What if someone finds it and I look all…. Like this.” He gestured to himself, feeling very uncertain.
Carl brought the camera up to his eye. “I think you look good in my flannel.”
Vance paused and looked up at Carl. “Really?”
Snap.
Vance blinked the flash out of his eyes, reaching up to rub at them. “You couldn’t have told me when you were going to take it?” He complained, feeling like any chance of going back to sleep was promptly stolen by the flash.
“I thought you looked nice.”
“I probably looked like a freaking bird or something when you hold out some food to them.”
“More like a puppy waiting for a treat.”
“Great. Now I’m a dog to you.”
Carl sat down next to Vance, showing him the slowly developing photo. Vance blinked the remaining spots out of his vision and looked down. He could see himself sitting down in Carl's flannel, a sort of hopeful expression on his face as he looked past the camera to Carl. “Oh wow. You managed to perfectly capture just how dorky I look.” Vance muttered.
“Oh come on. I like it.”
“My face looks dumb.”
Carl reached out and took the picture of him. “Well I like it.” He said, picking his wallet up and sliding it into the second placeholder. The one meant for an actual photograph.
“Why?” Vance asked, curious.
“Cause of the way you look at me.” Carl answered. “You get this look on your face. And now I have a reminder of it.” Carl said, holding up his wallet with the two pictures. Vance reached out and took the wallet from him, setting it down on the nightstand.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
“Dragging you back to bed. It’s obvious that the lack of sleep is getting to you.” Vance said, pulling the other back under the blankets.
Carl rolled his eyes but didn’t protest. “For your information I slept very well.”
“Oh really?” Vance hummed, leaning down to grab the blankets and pull them back over the two.
“Yeah. I had a really weird dream though.”
“What was it about?” Vance asked, grabbing one of the pillows and propping it under his chest so he could look at Carl while he told him about his dream,
“Well, most of the group was there. But you weren’t. I don’t think you were supposed to be there.”
“Why not?”
“Cause you were in this place. We’d been traveling on the road and we found this huge home. You were inside, washing dishes I think. Or maybe making dinner. I don’t know. But you served us tea.”
“Tea? Now I know that’s not me. Must’ve been my doppleganger.”
“Well the tea was drugged.”
“The tea was what now?”
After another half hour of just laying in bed and talking, there was a knock at the door.
“Vance, are you up?” Carol’s voice called through the door.
The both of them jumped and Vance quickly lifted the blankets. Carl moved close to Vance’s side, hiding underneath the blanket as Vance pulled it over him.
Vance carefully adjusted the sheets and looked up, grabbing Carl’s hat and tossing it elsewhere so Carol wouldn’t see it. He cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m up.”
Carol opened the door and stepped inside. “Hey there. Been up long?”
“Uhm. A little. I was going to try and get some more sleep before I went to go help with breakfast.” Vance said, trying his best not to squirm with Carl pressed so close to him. He could feel the other's hands practically shaking as he resisted the urge to mess with Vance.
Carol nodded. “Have you heard anything about the hidden weapons in the pantry?”
Vance furrowed his brow. “We have hidden weapons in the pantry?”
Carol hummed. “No, not anymore.” She turned back to the hallway behind her, as if looking to see if there was anyone else there. She turned back to Vance. “Your friends, the siblings. If they’ve got any kind of record about weapons, try and get me that list.”
“I thought you had one.”
“Not anymore.” She said, crossing her arms. The lack of information seemed to bother her, which made sense. Carol had been the one finding out about everything going on in Alexandria. Not knowing something would likely make her uneasy. “They’re keeping it very tightlipped. I can’t ask questions without drawing attention, but with you on the hunts it’ll be less suspicious if you start asking.”
Vance nodded slowly. “Yeah, I’ll see what I can find out.”
“Good. When Carl gets up, let him know that Rick is looking for him. Judith is being fussy and Michonne’s not here to help him calm her.”
Vance let out a sigh. “You knew?”
“I heard him come in last night. He practically stomps with every step.”
“I do not.” Carl said from beneath the blankets.
Carol let out a snort. “Sure you don’t sweetheart. You are as quiet as a mouse walking on a bubblewrapped floor. Now get dressed and go meet your father before he gets mad at you and Vance again.” With that, she closed the door and left downstairs.
Carl grumbled and poked his head out from beneath the covers. “I don’t stomp.”
“You wear steel toed boots.” Vance pointed out, sitting up and getting out of bed. “I think it’s pretty much impossible not to stomp.”
They both got dressed and had breakfast before Carl had to hurry back home. Vance walked him out until they had to go their separate ways. He usually helped with breakfast over in the cafeteria. It gave him a good chance to talk to Naya, who had become a good friend to him. She, of course, found out about what happened with Bryce. Vance didn’t know why he thought it would remain a secret, not with how fast gossip spread here. But thankfully when Naya heard what happened she instead made sure that he was okay and took it upon herself to stay close to Vance as much as she could if Mikey wasn’t around. It was almost funny having the Nakamura siblings as your protectors.One of them was the equivalent of having a labrador as a protector and the other was like a terrifying chihuahua that had a taste for blood. But the idea that he needed protecting in the first place dampened the humorous aspect of it.
Instead of finding Naya there in the mess hall, Vance encountered Mikey grabbing a few rations. This usually meant that they’d be going on a hunt, but Vance hadn’t heard about any hunt today. Vance walked over to Mikey, footsteps silent as he did.
“What have you got there, sharpshooter?” Vance asked, startling Mikey.
Mikey jumped and let out an awkward laugh. “Oh uh, nothing. Just grabbing breakfast, y'know. Gotta work the uh… fields today. Grabbing something for the guys as well.”
Vance furrowed his brow in suspicion. “You don’t usually grab the rations if you’re just going to work in the fields. Is there something going on that I don’t know about?”
“What? No, no. Just…” Mikey saw Vance’s suspicious expression and promptly gave up with a sigh. “Yeah, there’s a hunt today.”
“I kind of suspected that.” Vance said, voice lacking any sort of humor. “Why did you lie to me about it?”
“Well, we have four new people on the hunt. We need a lot more food than usual to keep up with Negan’s demands and make sure everyone here is getting fed so we have to take more people out.”
Vance nodded slowly. “Yeah I know that. It still doesn’t explain why you lied though.” Vance said, grabbing a ration for himself.
“Bryce is going on the hunt.”
“What?”
Mikey glanced around, noticing other people starting to grab breakfast. He led Vance over to a quieter part of the mess hall, sitting down at an empty table. He lowered his voice so only the two of them would hear. “I didn’t tell you about the hunt because I’m worried Bryce is going to try something.”
“So you were just going to go without me?” Vance asked, feeling a little hurt by the idea. “I know there’s a risk of him doing something, but I’d rather risk getting a little roughed up than not going and we don’t bring back enough food for everyone.”
“Well Naya is coming too. She and her friend Asha were the other two coming with. And Joshua but we’re not too hopeful with him joining us.”
“Then let me come help,” Vance said firmly. “Riley always has us do pairs and he already knows that we’re always a team. So Bryce shouldn’t be a problem.”
Mikey obviously didn’t like the idea, but he reluctantly agreed. “Alright. But go check in with Naya. She’s doing the headcounts and seeing what supplies we can spare for everyone.”
Vance left, not wanting to waste anymore time. He spotted a familiar figure over by the trucks. The purple butterfly jacket and short hair in a shaggy cut clued him in to who it was. Naya was writing something on a clipboard, glancing back into the box every now and then. Vance walked up next to her, glancing into the box. “We’re going back to bows and arrows?’ Vance asked, seeing the very few guns actually available.
Naya looked up and smiled. “Vance!” She set down the clipboard on the truck bed and embraced him. “Mikey told me you were skipping out on this one.” She said, pulling back from the hug. “Change your mind?”
“Uh, yeah.” Vance nodded, not wanting to throw Mikey under the bus. He meant well. “Decided that I couldn’t just sit around and do nothing.”
Naya picked up her clipboard. “Since you came in late I can't actually give you a gun since all the ones we have to spare have all been assigned. But you and Mikey usually partner up, and he’s got a gun.” Naya turned to the box. “Are you able to use any of these by chance?”
“Yeah.” Vance nodded, glancing through the box already.
“Right, I thought so. I guess– wait, you said yes?” Naya turned around, surprised. “You can actually use one of these? Can you hit a target?”
Vance sifted through the bows, lifting one out. He checked for any damage and pulled on the drawstring, finding that it was actually fairly well balanced. “It’s been a while, but I should be able to hit a target with this.”
Naya pursed her lips. “I don’t want to assign it to you without checking that you can actually use it first.” She reached into the box and pulled out a quiver full of makeshift arrows. “Take one of these and…” She looked around for a good target. She spotted a tree in the distance. “Shoot that tree.”
Vance looked over at the tree. “The tree right there by the sidewalk?”
“Yes.”
“Got it.” Vance picked an arrow out of the quiver, notching it on the bow. He took in a deep breath, feeling himself moving into a familiar position. He could feel the stretch in his muscles. He hadn’t done this in a long while, but the motions were still practically ingrained in him. He let out a breath and let the arrow fly. It nailed the tree, off center, but still on target.
Naya hummed. “You are full of surprises Vance.” She turned back to the clipboard and marked him down. “What’s the label on the side of it?”
Vance glanced at the bow. “Uh. It’s scratched off but I can see the letters M and A.”
“Good enough.” Naya clicked her pen and turned back. “You’ve got your stuff?”
“No, I forgot it at home.”
Naya nodded. “We’ll we’ve got about twenty minutes before we take off. That should be enough time for you to run home and grab it.”
“Okay. Hey, before I go. Can I get a list of the weapons we’ve got?” Vance asked.
Naya furrowed her brow. “You want a list of the weapons? Why?”
“I just want to know if any go missing. On account of uh…” Vance blanked on finding an explanation, but Naya seemed to come to a conclusion all on her own. Her expression turned sympathetic and she reached a hand out to rest on his arm.
“I’m sorry, I should’ve known.” She leafed through the paper on the clipboard and found a blank sheet. She took it off and started to copy down a list of the weapons. When she was done, she folded it and handed it to Vance. “Here. I put the knives and other weapons here, along with a star next to the ones that he usually checks out.”
Feeling bad that Naya had done this under the assumption that Vance was worried over Bryce, he hesitated before taking the list. “It’s uh… not entirely for that reason. But it’s a big help.”
“Do I get to know the actual reason?”
“I don’t think so. Don’t mention this to anyone, okay?”
“Alright. Don’t go getting involved in anything, Vance.” She warned him. “Things are bad enough.”
“I’ll be careful, promise.”
With that, Vance moved back to his house to grab his things. He ended up making a quick stop by Carl's house. He knocked twice on the door, and Rick opened the door.
“Vance.” Rick greeted. “Going on a run?”
Vance nodded. “Yeah. Just uh, wanted to let Carl know before I left since… uh, I won’t be able to help him out with some of the chores later..” He said, not exactly comfortable with telling Carl's dad that he was really there for a kiss.
“Carl’s with Judith in her room.” Rick said, stepping aside so Vance could come inside.
Vance quietly thanked him and went inside. The moment he was away from Rick he let out a heavy sigh. He didn’t have anything against the man. But there was always a… lingering fear with Rick. Vance went up the stairs, finding Carl holding his little sister as he looked through her clothes. “Ever the fashionista, huh?” Vance asked as he entered the room.
Carl looked up, giving Vance a small smirk. “Well some of us like to actually match our clothes.” He said, giving a pointed look to Vance’s outfit before turning back to the drawers.
Vance glanced down at himself. He had a blue shirt on, some faded jeans, his greyish shoes, and a brown flannel. He looked back up. “It’s not the worst mix of colors.” He defended, knowing he looked like mud and water.
“Whatever you say.”
Vance moved over to stand behind Carl, wrapping his arms around the other's waist and resting his chin on Carl’s shoulder. “She likes yellow the best.”
“I forgot you could understand babble.”
Vance rolled his eyes and reached an arm over to grab a plaid yellow dress. “Put her in this one.”
Carl took the dress from him, giving it a look before nodding. “Not the worst choice.” He said, putting the other clothes back inside the drawers. He moved over to Judith in the crib, taking her pajamas off and getting her dressed. “So what’s up?”
“Going on a hunt. Wanted to come say bye.”
Carl turned to look at him, confused. “A hunt? I thought you didn’t have anything planned today.”
“Last minute decision.” Vance explained. “Mikey told me about it in the mess hall and I asked to join. We need some more numbers anyways.”
Carl walked over to him, tilting his hat up so he could peck Vance’s lips. “Alright well, you’re going to owe me chores for today. Don’t do anything stupid.”
“No promises.” Vance replied. He reached out and grabbed Carl by the belt loop, pulling him in for a longer kiss. Carl pulled back, causing Vance to let out a grumble.
Carl raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you going to be late?”
“Yeah but if I’m going to be late it might as well be for a good reason.” Vance said, trying to convince the other to give him another kiss.
Carl rolled his eye, knowing the others' tricks by now. But he obliged him anyway, pulling him closer and kissing him properly.
Satisfied, Vance pulled back. “I’ll see you at dinner?”
“Not if I see you first.”
Vance huffed out a laugh before remembering the last thing he needed to do before he left. “Hey uh, give this to Carol for me, will you?” Vance asked, holding out a slip of paper to Carl.
Carl took it from him. “Is this the list?”
Vance nodded. “Got it from Naya. Everything's on there. Including the knives and other stuff.”
“She’s pretty cool when she’s not siphoning off gossip from you.” Carl said, putting the folded paper in his pocket.
“Yeah. She is.” Vance lingered in the doorway for a few seconds, not wanting to leave just yet. With reluctance, he turned and left the room.
They had to take two trucks this time in order to fit everyone. Mikey, Naya, and Asha joined Vance in the truck bed. Mikey was showing Vance the bear he’d been trying to carve out of wood when his eye caught the ring on Vance’s finger.
“Man I still don’t know how you managed to make this look so good.” Mikey complained, reaching out to grab Vance’s hand and bring it closer to his face so he could see. “Are you sure you made this? Cause there’s no way you were able to make it look like an actual ring.”
“If you wanted to see the ring you could’ve just asked me instead of yanking my arm out of it’s socket.” Vance snarked, but he didn’t move away from Mikey’s grip. “And yes I made it. It took me a while to make sure there weren’t any weird lumps in it.”
Mikey let go of Vance’s hand, turning to look at him. “There’s got to be something that you’re bad at..”
Vance thought for a few moments. “Singing.” He decided after a while. “I don’t sing.”
“Oh great, because singing is such an important skill to have in the apocalypse”
“You asked.” Vance shrugged.
“I don’t know why I expected an honest answer.” Mikey moved over to lightly kick Vance.
Vance huffed and moved to lay down on his backpack. “Dude I swear, sometimes it’s like you’re eight years old instead of eighteen.”
“You act the same way as me and we are like a year and a half apart.”
Vance laid his head back and started to snore. Mikey scoffed and reached out to shove Vance, who got up and moved over to shove him back. The two started to shove each other back and forth until someone banged on the window and yelled from inside the truck. Mikey managed to push Vance one last time before they both sat down. Vance would get him back though. Soon.
It didn’t take long for Riley to split them all up. At first Naya and Asha stayed close to Mikey and Vance as they were all headed in the same direction. But eventually the two had to separate as the traps were west of where Mikey and Vance were supposed to be going.
This was Vance’s favorite part about these trips. The quiet walks in the forest, free of the threat of walkers. It reminded Vance of when he and Michonne used to travel, and he’d practice his aim. The weight of the bow on his back added to this. It was familiar. Calming.
They found two deer drinking water by the creek. Mikey shot the first one, but Vance didn’t manage to kill the second one, instead wounding the deer in the thigh. Mikey and Vance brought the deer back to Naya and Asha so they could take it back to the truck while they tracked down the injured deer.
Unfortunately it was taking a while, as the deer seemed to be running around all over he forest, leaving a blood trail that didn’t lead anywhere in particular. When they were taken in a circle for the third time
Mikey let out a groan and knelt down to look at the trail. “Blood overlaps. Looks like the deer is circling around so we’re chasing our own tails.” He reached down and sifted through the leaves.
“Maybe we should split up.” Vance suggested. “I’ll follow the trail, maybe it’ll come back this way.”
Mikey looked up at Vance. “What if it goes a different way?”
“I’ll radio you and we’ll meet up.”
Mikey stood up and nodded. “Sounds like a plan. If it goes beyond the traps just come back, Riley says that the dead guys have been coming closer this way.”
“Sir yes sir.” Vance mock saluted.
Mikey gave Vance a shove. “Go hunt that deer before I tell Naya that it was you and Carl who made the mess in the pantry last week.”
“That wasn’t us!”
“Not what I’m going to tell Naya.” Mikey gave Vance a shit eating grin.
Vance bit back a retort and started following the blood trail. “You’re an asshole, Nakamura.”
“Takes one to know one.”
Vance walked for a while through the trees and brush. When the trees started to get more dense, he knew that was already a warning. But he could see the tracks so fresh on the ground. The deer was so close. Vance continued following the tracks until he reached the traps. Mikey had said to stop. But Vance could hear rustling in the near distance. It was just a few more steps away, trying to hide by a tree or a rock most likely. Vance checked behind him, looking for any signs of walkers or people. When he saw nothing, Vance turned back and stepped over the trap wires. He moved slowly so he didn’t touch the cans and alert the deer that he was on it’s trail.
Vance heard the snap of a branch and bit back a smile. He’d finally caught up. Vance crouched low, bringing an arrow out of his quiver and notching it onto the bow. The motions were so familiar. Hunting with Michonne. He pushed the fond memory aside and got ready. He started to approach the large boulder where the sound had come from. It was likely that the deer was just on the other side, thinking that it was safe from him there.
Vance rounded the corner but was immediately grabbed and slammed into the boulder. The bow slipped from his grasp and the arrow lodged itself into the ground. Vance looked up to see the second face he wished he didn’t have to see ever again.
“Bryce.” He muttered lowly. “Aren’t you supposed to be out hunting?”
“I caught what I was searching for.” Bryce muttered, adjusting his grip on Vance’s jacket. “Thought you could hide from me using your little buddies, huh?”
Well it worked so far, hadn’t it? If only Vance had decided to keep using the buddy system. And not go beyond the traps. And also not agree to go on the hunt in the first palace. Then he wouldn’t be in this new mess. But no, Vance had to be a little mister ‘I want to help people’ and get himself into another situation. You think he would’ve learned his lesson by now. “We have to finish the hunt. Our people need this food.” Vance tried to reason, not wanting to do this now.
“Don’t worry. I’ll pick up the slack once I’m done here.” Bryce grabbed Vance’s shoulders and flipped him around, turning him to face the boulder. “Don’t struggle and we’ll be back to hunting in no time.” He grabbed Vance’s wrist and brought them together behind his back, starting to tie them with some kind of rope. In his head, Vance was cursing every decision that got him here, while questioning where the hell Bryce had found some rope from. He’d faced people bigger than him before. He could at the very least try and fight back. But they were in the middle of a dense forest and Bryce was already tying his hands together. So for now, all Vance could do was endure until he could escape.
He felt Bryce’s hand move lower, grabbing his wallet out of his back pocket. Any attempt at being calm was immediately thrown out the window. “Hey– give that back!” Vance exclaimed, jerking back again Bryce’s hand keeping him pressed into the rock.
Bryce ignored Vance, opening the wallet. “Picture of your boyfriend, huh?” He sneered. “Well, let me do you a favor.” He tossed the wallet aside into the dirt. “You’re better off without it.”
Vance didn’t know whether Bryce was referring to the picture of Carl or Carl himself, but either way he didn’t enjoy the implication. He gritted his teeth and bit down on the inside of his cheek. Michonne always chided him about his temper. ‘Anger makes you stupid, and stupid gets you killed.’ Vance took in a deep breath though his nose, and slowly let it out through his mouth. He needed to find the best way out of this. Maybe loosen the ropes. Just enough that he could get free, daze Bryce somehow, and then make a break for it.
Bryce turned Vance back around to face him, reaching down and grabbing a switchblade from his back pocket and flipping it open. For a second, Vance could’ve sworn he saw a familiar figure standing in the distance, baseball bat low by his side. Vance shut up eyes tightly, but a sharp sting across his cheek made him reopen them. A small trickle of blood started to fall down his cheek.
“You don’t get to look away from this.” Bryce said as he lifted up Vance’s shirt. He pinned the shirt against Vance’s chest, using enough force to keep Vance there as well. Vance expected a bade. But instead he felt a hand. Scratchy and calloused. It was moving his shirt away, but then it started to move along his side. Vance’s eyes darted to Bryce to see that he wasn’t looking at Vance anymore, but at the patch of skin. Vance followed his gaze down to his side where his hand was still feeling Vance’s skin. A mix of confusion and discomfort washed over Vance like a terribly cold shower.
“What are you doing?” Vance whispered, like he was scared to break Bryce out of his stupor and remind him of what he was there to do.
“Shut up.” Bryce replied. He looked up to meet Vance’s eyes. “Is this what he does to you?”
“What?”
“When it’s just you two. This is what he does, isn’t it? Touches you like this.” He almost spat out the last sentence.
Vance frowned. “What is it to you?” He asked, not wanting to answer his invasive questions. “Won’t that just make you throw up or something?”
“You’re just asking for it now.” Bryce’s hand pressed into Vance’s side almost painfully before he moved over to his stomach.
Vance grimaced and tried to move away, but Bryce didn’t let him. “Why do you want to know?” He asked again. “What the hell are you doing?”
“This is what you want, isn’t it? For him to touch you like this.”
“You’re insane.” Vance muttered. “I’m not telling you–”
“You’re going to tell me or I’m going to gut you like a deer.” Bryce looked Vance dead in the eyes. “So admit it. Admit that this is what freaks like you want.”
“To be pinned against a rock and threatened with a knife? Yeah, it’s every gay guy’s wet dream.” Vance scoffed. “Are you serious? Of course this isn't what–” Vance felt his veins run cold when there was a hand moving beneath his belt. “Get– off!” Vance exclaimed, starting to try and move away from Bryce.
“Shut up already.” Bryce hissed. “You know you want this. Stop denying it.”
Vance lunged forward, slamming his head against Bryce’s.
Bryce let out a yell and let go of Vance. Vance didn’t hesitate to start running. He bolted as fast as he could to the last place he left Mikey, running towards the traps. Vance had once run in a three legged race. Arguably it was easier than running with your hands tied behind your back. Vance could see the traps there in the distance. Maybe they’d set them off, make enough noise that if someone was nearby they would come to check out what the noise was.
Vance started running faster. He was unbalanced however, and kept stumbling every few feet, but he didn’t dare slow down. He practically stomped against the floor trying to remain on his feet. He reached the traps and stuck his leg out to trigger the cans. They rattled loudly. Vance started trying to run again, but the wire was still hanging onto his boot, dragging him down. Vance hit the ground hard, and he let out a loud groan. God he would have such a headache later. But that wasn’t relevant right now.
Vance pushed himself back up onto his feet without dwelling on the pain. Vance started to run again but a hand grabbed him and shoved him into the ground.
“No more wasting time.” Bryce said, shoving Vance’s shirt up and grabbing his blade. He adjusted his grip on the knife, and brought the tip to his skin. Vance hissed as the blade started to cut him open. He glanced down, seeing Bryce starting to draw something on his skin with the blade. He couldn’t tell what it was from upside down. When Bryce started to carve a little deeper to ensure that it would scar, Vance started to struggle.
“Get– off!” He exclaimed, squirming around. Bryce’s hand on his chest shoved him back again. Vance fought back against the hand, trying to roll away somehow.
Bryce let go of Vance’s chest and grabbed his neck, choking him now. Vance gasped for air, hands now struggling against the rope to try and free himself. He couldn’t squirm too well as Bryce had tied the rope tight. Despite this he kept trying. His wrists burned with the effort, but the stinging wasn’t as bad as the stinging in his lungs from the lack of air. He could only get a few gasps worth of air every so often when Bryce was adjusting his grip, but he was starting to see spots in his vision and knew he had to do something now.
Vance pressed his feet flat onto the floor and bucked up as hard as he could to try and knock Bryce off of him. The knife plunged into his side, but Bryce had let go of his neck. Vance cried out in pain, bringing as much as air he could into his lungs.
“Oh shit…fucking– shit! What did you do?!” Bryce exclaimed, climbing to his feet and stepping back from Vance. “You- you are seriously fucked up!” Bryce hissed. “That was the worst thing you could’ve done.”
Vance barely heard him, feeling lightheaded as the blood continued to pour from the wound despite the knife firmly lodged inside him. He leaned his head back against the floor. “Just- just untie me.” Vance mumbled. “Help me back. I.. won’t tell anyone.” He pleaded, knowing he wouldn’t be able to make it back by himself. Not like this.
“I’m just supposed to believe that you are going to keep this a secret?” Bryce shook his head. “No. No, you’re on your own.” With that, he turned heel and broke into a run.
“Bryce– wait!” Vance called. He tried to get up to his feet and he couldn’t. He took in a shaky breath, starting to struggle against the ropes again. He needed to get himself free. He needed to–
Something moved out from behind the boulder. At first, Vance thought it was the deer he’d been hunting. But when he turned, there was a stray walker approaching him. It had been called over when he had made all that noise with the cans. He barely managed to tilt himself so he didn’t push the knife further into his wound, but the impact still jostled him enough to send pain coursing through his body.
The walker knelt down, starting to crawl over to its new meal. Vance tried to push past the pain and start moving, crawling on his stomach as best as he could. His legs weakly moved amongst the leaves, unable to find a perch to push himself up off of. He kept trying to squirm away, but the walker was not struggling to crawl over to him. Vance’s vision was beginning to swim, and he tried once more to move away, only for him to kick the walker to his right. The walker hit the ground, but climbed back up, this time moving closer to him, likely wanting to take a bite from his neck. He laid his head down, panting in effort. This was how it would end for him? Eaten by a walker, after everything he’d been through? That wasn’t fair.
Vance turned his head to the opposite side, away from the walker. He spotted his wallet just about a foot or two away. He could vaguely make out Carl’s features. He closed his eyes and sniffled. He tried to imagine that instead of laying there, bleeding out on the forest floor, that he was back with Carl in his bed. Talking about crazy dreams and what they were planning on doing later.
The pain in his side was spreading all across his body now, blooming like flowers. He felt the last of the pain reach up to his shoulder before he started to give in to the exhaustion and close his eyes.
A loud bang snapped him awake, and he opened his eyes. Vance looked over to the walker to see its body crumbled just an inch away from him, a bullet in its skull. Someone was running over, and they dropped to their knees. They grabbed the walker's body and tossed it aside, moving into Vance’s vision now.
“Vance!” Mikey exclaimed, grabbing Vance and turning him onto his back. “He didn’t get you, right? You’re not bit?” Mikey immediately started checking Vance. “Okay– okay not bit, thank God. What the hell happened?” His eyes drifted over to the knife. “Fuck!” He took off his backpack and immediately started pulling things out. “Stay awake, okay? Don’t close your eyes.”
Vance mumbled something quietly.
Mikey gave him a confused look but didn’t stop trying to tend to Vance’s wound. “I– I’ve no clue what you just said but- but keep talking. That’s good, okay?”
Vance started blinking in and out again. One moment he was still there on the ground, watching Mikey try and work on his wound. The next he was in Mikey’s arms as the other boy was running as fast as he could through the woods. Then he was laying on the truck bed with people hovering over him.
He didn’t try and get up or move just yet. His body was aching and he didn’t want to add to it. He could hear Naya and Mikey’s hushed conversation, likely trying not to wake him.
“I told Riley we’ve been hunting too much in the south.” Mikey muttered quietly. “All the hunting's been pushing the animals further and further, and attracting walkers towards us.”
“Seriously? You found Vance bleeding out and you want to talk about hunting patterns?” Naya hissed.
“If I hadn’t found him when I did, he would’ve been eaten by one of those dead freaks.” Mikey said, sounding almost frustrated with himself. “Bryce is one problem, but we need to look at the bigger picture for a minute. Walkers are in our woods and there could be a herd coming this way that we’re not prepared for.”
“So bring that up to Rick.” Naya huffed. “Defense isn’t our problem. Our problem is the fact that our friend almost died and the guy who nearly killed him is sitting in the other truck heading home with us.”
“I’m trying not to think about that.” Mikey said quietly.
“Why not?” Naya asked, exasperated. “It should be the only thing on your mind right now.”
“I need to focus on making sure my friend makes it out alive. Once that’s done, I'll deal with Bryce.”
“Deal with him how?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Alright well, we both know that whoever did this was likely Bryce, but we can’t just go after him without being absolutely certain that we’re not beating up the wrong asshole. How do you know it was him?”
“Found his knife sticking out of Vance.”
“That switchblade he’s always stealing from the logs?”
“Same one he threatened me with when I mouthed off to him.” Mikey confirmed. “If you still don’t believe me, check the box when we get back. It’ll be missing.”
“No. I believe you.”
Mikey stayed by Vance’s side while the people in the medical area patch Vance up. Mikey had vaguely seen what Bryce had been trying to carve into Vance’s side, and the word made him angry all over again. But he didn’t dare leave Vance’s side. Not when they had to hook him up to an IV drip. Something they tried to save for severe cases, and apparently Vance was one of them.
Mikey had met Vance when Vance’s group first arrived in Alexandria. At first, Mikey thought the boy was one of those silent and angry at the world types. But when Mikey’s dad pushed him to talk to the boy and invite him over, he found that Vance was pretty much the opposite. The boy just had one of those resting bitch faces. A very good one at that. But underneath the oversized jacket and the blood staining his clothes, Vance was a people person. But more importantly, Vance was Mikey’s best friend. You didn’t have a lot of those. Not at the end of the world. So seeing Vance laying there, staring at him to make sure that he was breathing, it was making Mikey think about life without his best friend. It was one that Mikey didn’t like the idea of.
Mikey had been tracing Vance’s wallet with his thumb, a nervous tic he hadn’t realized he was doing. He looked down at the wallet, worn from years of carrying it. Mikey opened it. He didn’t know what he expected to find inside. Money maybe. A pokemon card since– for whatever reason, Vance liked collecting those. (Nerd). But there was only one thing inside the wallet. A picture of… was that Carl? Mikey brought the photo closer to see that it was in fact Carl. Somewhere in the mess of limbs and blankets.
Mikey let out a slow breath. It was no wonder Vance had practically begged him to take the wallet. Mikey leaned over to the small table next to Vance’s cot and set it down. Mikey’s dad had a notebook he carried with him. Taped to the pages were the photographs he’d managed to save from the family album. On Wednesday nights, the only night the family kept for themselves, they’d sit down in the living room and play games. Take turns talking about their day, and share things they miss about the old world. His father had one page of the journal that Mikey often found him staring at. A picture of Mikey’s mom in the hospital when Naya had been born. Mikey was sitting next to her, a toddler, looking at his sister in awe. Mikey’s dad loved that picture, and on bad days Mikey would find him tracing the edges over and over again. That must be what it’s like for Vance.
Mikey looked up at Vance on the bed. As talkative as Vance was, Mikey didn’t know a lot about him. Not about his parents. His siblings, if he had any. He didn’t know if Vance lived in a house or an apartment or if he traveled so much he’d never had the chance to put his roots down. Did Vance have a dog or a cat? And going further than that, Vance barely even talked about the places that they were at before. Mikey knew something about a prison. Some kind of place they stayed in for a while before something happened and they were forced to leave. But that he’d found out when he overheard the adults talking at dinner.
All these pieces were missing from what Mikey knew about Vance. So seeing this picture of Carl, something Vance kept close to him, it was like a glimpse of what went on in the other's mind. Mikey didn’t know about how Carl and Vance met. Doesn’t know just how long the two have liked each other or been friends. Vance doesn’t even talk about how they got together. Just one day they weren’t, and the next Mikey caught them holding hands in Vance’s room.
The door opened, and Mikey looked up to see Naya standing there. Naya walked in, wringing her hands together. “They said that he’s going to be okay.”
Mikey all but fell into his chair .He reached up to rub his eyes, trying to bite back the tears “Yeah, great. That’s… great.” Mikey heard Naya’s footsteps get closer and he looked up to see her standing next to him. She reached out to set a hand on his shoulder.
“Are you okay?” She asked.
“Almost lost my best friend. So… I’m doing just peachy.” Mikey sighed and stood up.
“Where are you going?” Naya asked, stepping in front of him. “You’re not going to wait until he wakes up?”
Mikey shook his head. “No, I was hoping you would.”
“What do you have to do that could be more important than this?” Naya whispered. She stared at him for a few seconds before the realization dawned on her. She immediately frowned and stepped forward. “Do you really think that going after him and leaving your friend alone is a good idea?”
“Vance won’t be alone. He has you.”
“No he doesn’t.” Naya crossed her arms.
“What?”
“I’m going with you.” Naya said firmly.
“No you’re not. I don’t want you getting hurt.” Mikey said, starting to walk away.
“That asshole almost killed my friend.” Naya moved to stand in front of him. “I know you guys are best friends, but he’s my friend too. And you’re my brother, so you’re not doing this alone.”
Mikey stayed quiet for a few moments. He really didn’t want to involve Naya, but she was stubborn as a bull. He let out a sigh and nodded. “Fine. But if Dad asks, I told you no.”
Naya nodded, and they gave one last look back to Vance to make sure he was still breathing before they left the medical area. Mikey could hear his father now, chiding him for not thinking rationally. ‘Yoru, anger will get you killed.’ His father would say. Mikey shook his head to rid of the thoughts. Mikey had been doing nothing this entire time. He had just stayed by Vance’s side instead of being there for him.
Mikey turned over to Naya. “We need to find him. We can’t wait any–”
“He’s in the old building out by the edge of Alexandria that someone torched.” Naya answered.
Mikey nodded. He didn’t ask how she knew that. Naya was a big source of information there in Alexandria. Not only did she have the innate ability to overhear things, but she was skilled at finding out things people didn’t want found out. He’d hate to have to hide a secret from her.
They walked in silence towards the old building, but stopped in their tracks when they heard a lot of noise. Naya and Mikey shared a look. Mikey reached into his pocket, pulling out the knife he kept hidden away from the logs. Naya pulled out a–
“Where the hell did you get a gun?” Mikey hissed, seeing his sister holding a revolver.
“Found it on a supply run.” Naya said, as if it was natural to find and keep a gun hidden from the logs. “I’ll check it in tomorrow.”
Mikey reached a hand up, pressing his knuckles into his forehead. He took in a deep breath and shook his head. “Make sure you can get rid of that if you have to shoot him.” He warned her. She nodded, and they both approached the door. Naya reached for the door knob and Mikey moved to the side. She pulled it open and he moved inside, freezing in his tracks when he saw what was inside.
Carl was fighting Bryce. More specifically, he was fighting him and winning. By a lot. Mikey should’ve expected that. He was surprised when Carl hadn’t done anything to Bryce after the first time Vance had been targeted, but he suspected that Vance had told him not to. It seemed like this was the last straw.
“Yoru?” Naya whispered quietly.
Mikey looked over at his sister. Naya acted like she was older than she actually was. Which was why Mikey often forgot that he was her older brother. Mikey reached out and grabbed her hand, turning her away from the scene. Mikey’s eye caught a radio on the ground by a pack of cigarettes. Likely what Bryce had come down here to do. Mikey looked back at his sister. “Go grab the radio. Take it outside, and turn the volume up. Don’t let anyone in here.”
Naya reached up to mess with her bangs. “Don’t… don’t get hurt.”
“Don’t get caught here.” Mikey warned her.
“I won’t.”
Mikey never considered himself a violent person. When he trained new hunters, he always taught them to mercy kill the animal. Not to let them suffer in pain, because no one deserved that. But when it came to watching Carl fight Bryce, if you could even call it a fight, he didn’t think to stop him. Not until Carl reached for a gun hidden under his shirt.
Mikey reached forward and grabbed Carl’s arm. “What the hell are you doing?” He exclaimed.
Carl glared at Mikey. “You’re going to stop me? After everything he did?”
“I didn’t stop you when you were fighting him. But I am going to stop you from killing him.” Mikey stared at Carl. “Do you realize what will happen if you do this?”
“I’ve been thinking about it for a while.” Carl said, looking over at Bryce. “I figured that the worst they could do was kick me out.
“Your dad can only save your life so many times.” Mikey let out a frustrated breath. “Look, what’ll happen to you when you get kicked out? You won’t be able to see Vance anymore. You think they’ll let him follow you out?” When Carl stayed quiet, Mikey slowly let go of his arm. “Just think about this.”
“Are you going to stop me from pulling the trigger?”
“I’m going to ask you not to.” Mikey crossed his arms. “What would Vance want?”
In just a second, Carl had lifted the gun and fired.
Mikey stared at Bryce’s body, bleeding out into the floor. He looked back up at Carl, who hadn’t even flinched. “Did you even hear what I said?” Mikey asked him quietly, feeling unnerved by how quickly Carl had decided that Bryce deserved a bullet.
Carl turned back to Mikey. “You don’t know him as well as you think you do.” He said, lowering the gun. “If the roles were reversed, or it was you in that situation, Vance would’ve killed him before it got this far.”
At that, Mikey had to pause. He’d never seen Vance kill a person before. Walkers, animals, yes. Always a quick and clean kill. Not once had he hesitated. Who’s to say the same wouldn’t go for a person? Mikey glanced back to the door where the loud music was still playing. He couldn’t tell Naya what happened there. He turned back to Carl. “If you’re going to go for a walk after this, don’t go past the deer sign towards the edge of the walls.” He said, voice a little shaky. “My dad said that there’s a swamp there with mud so thick that once something gets stuck in there it won’t come out.”
Carl nodded slowly. “I’ll watch my step.” He knelt down next to Bryce.
Noticing the way that Carl didn’t hesitate to start moving Bryce into an easy to carry position, Mikey couldn’t help but comment. “Has anyone ever told you that you have serial killer tendencies?” He blurted out.
“Once. By another serial killer.” Carl turned back to Mikey. “Are you going to talk about what happened here?”
Mikey could practically feel the cold air surrounding Carl’s threat. “I wasn’t even here.” With that, Mikey turned and stepped outside the warehouse, startling Naya who had been lost in her thoughts.
“Everything okay?” Naya asked him, turning down the radio.
Mikey nodded. “We won’t be hearing from Bryce anymore.”
“Why? What happened?”
“He just won’t be coming around anymore. Come on, we should check on Vance and make sure he’s doing alright.” Mikey didn’t turn to look at his sister, but he knew that she was suspicious. He didn’t wait for her to ask any more questions before he started walking.
…
Naya knew when her brother was lying to her. But she also knew when not to ask questions. When Carl arrived at the infirmary, clothes clean but hands still bloody, Mikey made it obvious that he was standing by Naya. She got up and grabbed a med kit, motioning for Carl to have a seat next to her.
Naya poured a little antiseptic onto the cotton ball. She reached for Carl’s hand, taking it in her own and gently tapping the cotton ball onto his split knuckles. Carl sucked in a sharp breath through his teeth, but otherwise didn’t react. That was the most conversation she and Carl had in their time at Alexandria. She and Carl were polar opposites. She liked to talk to people. Her father called her a people person, and she took pride in how easily she made connections. But Carl, from what she observed, was the opposite. If he and Vance hadn’t come to Alexandria together, Naya never would’ve known they were friends what with how different they were.
Naya set down the cotton swab and grabbed the bandage. She started to wrap up Carl’s hand. “I recommend not using these too much. Not for a few days.” She stated, tying the knot and tucking it in.
Carl only nodded. Naya looked up at him to see that his focus was elsewhere. She followed his gaze to Vance, laying on the cot still unconscious.
“He’s going to be okay.” Naya informed him. “The blood loss was the worst of it. Nothing was hit.”
Carl finally looked back at her. “How do you know that?”
“Mikey and I brought him back. We stayed until he was stable.” Naya looked over at her brother. He had picked up Carl’s ring, cleaning it for him.
Mikey looked up at the sound of his name. He glanced down at the ring before passing it to Carl. “Blood will stain bone. Make sure to keep that clean.” He told him.
Carl took the ring from him, trying to put it back on his hand, but the bandages around his knuckles prevented him from doing so.
There was some strange kind of tension in the air between the two. Naya didn’t know what happened in the building when she was outside, but she didn’t want to add fuel to the fire. Naya reached up to unclasp one of her necklaces, one with a simple flower charm. She took off the charm, holding the chain out to Carl. “Here. You can wear it on this necklace until you can take the bandages off.”
Carl reached out and took the chain from her. He trailed over the links with his nail before looking up. “Thanks.”
Naya glanced over at Mikey. He didn’t seem to disapprove of her action, so she deemed it fairly safe.
Carl stood up, walking over to Vance’s side. “You said there was only blood loss, right?” He asked.
Naya stood up and walked over as well, ignoring the fact that Mikey was at her side in an instant. What was with him? “Yeah. The blade was small so it didn’t nick anything.”
“If it was small, why did he lose so much blood?” Carl asked. He gestured to the bloodied shirt Vance was wearing. When Naya didn’t answer him (how could she explain that?) Carl reached over to Vance’s shirt and lifted it up.
“Bryce wrote something.” Mikey answered, stopping Carl from lifting up the bandages as well.
“What did he write?” Carl asked without turning.
“You did enough to him that he won’t try it again.” Mikey said firmly.
Carl looked over at Mikey, and Naya felt worried that a second fight was going to start. “What did he write?” Carl asked again, this time not sounding as ‘friendly’ as he had before.
“Focus on being there for him.” Mikey reached over, grabbing the blanket and fixing it over Vance. “You can ask him when he’s awake again.”
Carl’s eyes trailed along Vance, searching for any kind of injuries. His hand reached over to Vance’s shoulder, pulling his shirt back slightly.
Mikey glanced over, and immediately his expression became downcast. He looked up at Carl. Naya watched as Mikey’s hand drifted over to the blade strapped to his leg. She instinctively reached for her own, unsure of what was going to happen.
“What are you going to do?” Mikey asked calmly.
“Nothing.” Carl said, fixing Vance’s shirt. He lifted up the blanket to Vance’s neck. “Just like you said. I’ve done enough.”
“It might not be what you think it is.”
“I’ve seen enough to know exactly what it is.”
Naya felt like the room had just become frozen cold. Her palm brushed against the handle of her knife, ready to jump in and defend her brother. Naya watched as Mikey sat down on one of the chairs by Vance’s side. She furrowed her brow and reached over to nudge him. “Shouldn’t Carl be sitting there?” Naya asked him quietly.
“I assumed he was going to sit elsewhere.” Mikey said, never breaking eye contact with Carl.
Carl didn’t reply, but he didn’t seem upset by Mikey taking the seat. Naya sighed and grabbed a second chair from a nearby cot, bringing it over to sit next to her brother. It didn’t take long for Carl to fall asleep next to Vance on the cot. Naya took that chance to ask Mikey,
“What the hell happened in that building?” She asked, throwing caution to the wind now. She would’ve stayed quiet had she not just watched her brother and Carl become what felt like the personification of a cold war.
Mikey leaned back in his seat, keeping an eye on Carl despite him being asleep. “I think we’ve… misjudged Carl.”
Naya furrowed her brow. “What do you mean?”
“I’m not too sure yet.” Mikey admitted. “I don’t think it’s a problem but… we need to talk to Vance. Alone.”
Naya stared at her brother, as if staring long enough would allow her to see what was going on inside his head. “Yoru, are you okay?”
Mikey turned to his sister. “I’m fine. Just… confused.”
“About?”
“A lot of things.” Mikey pulled his jacket tighter on himself. “But I won’t get any answers right now. Let’s get some rest, okay?”
Naya hesitated before letting out another sigh. “Okay. But you’ll tell me about this tomorrow, got it?”
General tags: TWD, original character, backstory, not canon compliant
Word count: 12, 211
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Prologue:
Michonne carried Vance back to the car as he was unable to walk without falling over, and they made their way back to the prison. Vance kept falling asleep in the car, which prompted Michonne to try and keep him awake by asking him questions about the chapter he was reading before they left. When it took him longer than usual to answer, Michonne began to worry. The others back at the prison were waiting as Rick and Carl unloaded the guns, and Michonne brought Vance to Hershel.
Vance sat on his bed in the cell, trying to follow Herschel's small light as best as he could, but the light was hurting his eyes and he couldn’t figure out which one was the real light and which one was his double vision. “Can… I sleep now?” Vance mumbled. “Head hurts.”
Herschel pursed his lips. “In just a moment. Stay awake until we can finish, alright?” He grabbed his crutches and stood up, moving over to Michonne.
“You said he hit his head in the bar?” Herschel asked quietly.
“He came out and his head was bleeding.”
“And when you were talking to him in the car?”
“He was taking a while to respond. He didn’t even know he was doing it.”
Herschel let out a sigh. “Then he has a confusion for certain. A mild one by the looks of it, but he should be on bed rest for the next two days.”
Michonne glanced back at Vance, who was beginning to sway on the bed. She walked back into the cell, kneeling down in front of him. “Are you tired?’ She asked quietly.
“A little bit.” Vance admitted.
“You look very sleepy. Come on, let’s tuck you in.” Michonne stood up, taking his jacket off and gently pushing him to lay down. She pulled the blanket up over him, draping his oversized jacket over his curled up form.
“There are some extra blankets in the other cells. We can use them to block out the light.” Herschel suggested.
“Let’s do that.” Michonne said. She pressed a gentle kiss to the bandage over Vance’s head before walking out with Hershel.
Vance closed his eyes, and soon fell asleep.
…..
A rooftop on an abandoned market. Cleared out with only one near miss. A reason to celebrate. To open the beers they’d been carrying for a while, cook the caught squirrel, and even have beans that miraculously weren’t expired yet.
Vance walked over to the campfire with his bowl to get his portion of food for the night. The other men sitting around the fire had gotten their portion, and had motioned for Vance to grab his. But instead of being able to walk over, a large hand grabbed him and pulled him back. Vance looked up to see his father. The large and burly man, just barely standing on his good leg to avoid putting weight on his prosthetic.
He leaned down to speak to Vance, voice taut. “You screwed up today. You really think you deserve that?” He squeezed Vance’s shoulder, as if to stop him from even trying. “Get the beans. And bring me the squirrel.”
Vance didn’t look up to see his father. Just waited until he removed his arm from Vance’s shoulder. Vance moved over towards the campfire and knelt down. Using his own bowl, Vance took the can of beans and poured it in. In the section that separated one half of the plate from the other, Vance picked up the cooked squirrel meat and set it down on the plate. Vance turned and started walking back over to his father, when he tripped over one of the rubble laying on the roof from some kind of chaos that happened there before.
Vance hit the ground, but it wasn’t the pain nor the warm food seeping into his clothes that made him stay there on the floor. But the knowledge that he’d screwed up again, and this time there was no excuse. Almost immediately his father forgot about his missing leg, and got up. He grabbed Vance by the back of his hood and pulled him up to his feet.
His father, once a soldier, was never a drill sergeant. But his voice could certainly get as loud as one. Vance couldn’t hear his actual words over the booming in his ears. His fathers loud base was overwhelming.
Vance was close to tears when his father dropped him. Vance didn’t try to get up, expecting his father to kick or maybe hit him. But nothing came. Vance looked up to see the other men fighting him. The sight of angry men shouting– no, fighting, coupled with the smell of beer made Vance curl back. He watched them toss his father around before someone said something. Something that wasn’t stop, or, leave him alone. It seemed to be instead, let’s take him elsewhere.
The scene blurs, and the next thing Vance knows he’s leaning over the edge of the building, staring down at a body tied to a gas station pump. The person can’t get out from their prison. And no one is going to help him.
“You’re free now.” A voice from behind him states. Vance turns around, and finds himself looking at a face he doesn’t recognize. One he never will remember. “He won’t be able to hurt you.” They reached out a hand, and placed it on Vance’s chest. “We’re going to take care of you.”
Vance turns around, and he’s standing outside the small corner store. A few feet away is his father. He can free him. Get him away from there. Vance walked over. He stopped just a few inches away as his eyes registered the sight. His father was dead. Stabbed a few times. Blood still poured out of his torso. His brain however, undamaged. He was alive again, just not as himself.
Vance sniffled and sat down next to his father. He leaned closer to the man, laying on his chest. Vance pulled his knees up and started to cry until his chest was heaving with the effort it took just to sob.
The scene repeated over and over again.
Vance finding his father.
Sitting down next to him.
Crying until his eyes burned
And then it would start over.
Until the moment it didn’t.
Vance has finished crying. He gets up. And there is a knife in his hands. His brothers, one given to him so that he could protect himself while his brother wasn’t there. Vance approached his father, hand shaking as he held the knife. He’d never had to do this before. His father killed them. The undead. Vance would only go in. Make distractions or get what was needed. But his father was gone. And this… thing was in his place. He needed to kill it. Set his father free. And run away. Run so far away no one would find him.
Vance gripped the knife in both hands, holding it just above his father’s skull. Vance lifted it up only slightly and shut his eyes as it plunged down.
Vance didn’t realize that he’d fallen asleep until he was woken later by Michonne. She entered the room, holding a small bowl of soup. “How are you feeling?” She asked, pulling up a stool next to his bed. Vance noticed the lantern in the corner, barely illuminating the area so he could see.
Slightly disoriented, Vance took a few minutes to register that she had asked him a question. “Mm. Fine.” Vance answered, pushing himself to sit up. “What’s that?”
“Dinner.” She answered. “Vegestable soup.”
“Dinner?” Vance repeated. “Has it been that long?”
“You were out like a light. I figured since you slept through lunch that you’d have quite the appetite around dinner, so I brought you a little extra carrots. Your favorite.”
Vance reached out for the bowl, taking it and setting it down on his lap. He hummed as the warmth of the heated porcelain seeped into his skin. The cells were cold and often sucked any kind of warmth out in its unwelcoming and compact structure. Vance held the bowl in his hands for a few more minutes before finally picking up the spoon and starting to eat. Michonne was right, as she usually was. He found himself finishing the bowl in near record time, drinking the soup once he finished.
“Would you like some more?” Michonne asked him, taking the empty bowl.
Vance shook his head. “I’m full.” He looked up as someone poked their head through the curtain that was draped over the cell doors. It was Carl.
Carl looked between Vance and Michonne. “Can I come in?”
Michonne nodded. “Yes, I was just about to go help your father with something.” She stood up, giving one last look to Vance to make sure he was okay before leaving.
Carl entered the room, standing awkwardly. Vance patted the spot on the bed beside him. “You can come sit down with me. I’m not contagious or anything.” He said, moving the blankets so Carl could sit comfortably. Or as comfortably as one could when the beds were so thin.
Carl moved over and sat down next to Vance, letting his legs hang off the edge. He nervously drummed his hands on his knees. “Uhm. Herschel said that you had a concussion?”
Vance nodded. “I think it happened when I hit my head on the booth and then I fell and hit my head again.”
Carl grimaced. “But you’re… okay, right?”
“Herschel said I needed a day or two of rest. I think I slept the entire day, so tomorrow I’ll be better.”
“Good.” Carl nodded.
Vance glanced at Carl out of the corner of his eye. “Were you… worried about me?”
“Yeah. I feel bad that you got hurt cause I wanted that picture of my mom.”
“I got hurt cause I tripped.” Vance pointed out. “ It’s not your fault I wasn’t looking where I was going. Michonne reminds me all the time to be aware of my surroundings and I still forget.”
“Yeah but you went in there because of me.”
“I wanted to help.” Vance finally turned to face Carl “You can’t–” Vance was interrupted as a yawn bubbled out of his throat. He tried to speak again only to be interrupted by another yawn.
“Maybe you should go to sleep.” Carl suggested.
“Mmph. Just… ‘s cold.” Vance mumbled.
“Oh, yeah. The cells get really cold.” Carl paused for a few minutes. “Uhm. Me and my mom, we used to share the bed when it got really cold. She said something about body heat.” He seemed to be a little embarrassed to suggest something like that.
Vance nodded slowly. “When it got really cold, Michonne and I used to do that. I don’t think she’s going to come back tonight though. All the stuff with your dad about getting this place ready for war is taking up a lot of her time.”
“I can… uhm. Stay here. Just until you’re warm enough.” Carl offered, face turning redder with every second.
Vance shook his head. “You don’t have to. I know you feel bad cause of what happened but you don’t have to repay me for that. I did it cause I wanted to.”
“And- and I’m offering because I want to.” Carl said adamantly. “Besides I don’t want you to freeze or something. You could get hippothermia.”
“Hypothermia.”
“I’m pretty sure its hippothermia.”
“Hippo’s don’t get cold. They have like, really thick layers of blubber.”
“But when it starts snowing they’d probably get cold, right?”
“I mean… yeah, I guess. Who doesn’t get cold?”
“Penguins.”
“Polar bears.”
“Platypus.”
“What?” Vance turned to Carl, confused. “Platypus get cold.”
“How do you know?”
“Cause they’re always making that chattering sound.” He said, laying down. He glanced down at Carl, gesturing to the space on the bed for him to join. Carl kicked off his boots and climbed into the bed behind Vance, turning to face the wall. Vance let out another yawn before pulling the blankets up over them both. He could slowly but surely feel their body heat starting to combat the chill of the prison cell. Vance could only hope that after this war was over, that they’d install some heaters in the rooms.
Vance woke up later the next morning, finding one of Carl’s arms draped over his face and one of his legs over Vance’s. Vance stretched, feeling a lot better than he had the day before. He moved out from underneath Carl, finding his shoes on the floor and putting them on. The motion seemed to wake Carl, who sat up and yawned. “W’ time ‘s it?” He mumbled.
Vance walked over to the curtain to pull it back. He flinched and quickly dropped the curtain, rubbing his eyes. The bright sunlight was hurting his eyes. He blinked away the spots, feeling his head start to throb. “Uhm. Well the sun is out so it’s definitely daytime.” Vance offered. He really should find a watch somewhere. “I’m gonna get breakfast and find Michonne. Are you coming?”
“Yeah. I’ll meet you there.” Carl said, turning over in the bed.
Vance turned away and started heading downstairs, holding a hand up to shield himself from the sunlight until he reached the shady downstairs area. He found Beth and Herschel sitting down at the tables with baby Judith on Beth’s lap, playing with a rubber duck. Vance moved over to join them. “Morning.” Vance greeted them.
“Morning?” Herschel chuckled. “It’s almost three.”
“Oh.” Vance blinked. He could’ve sworn that it was the morning. Had he really slept that long? No wonder he was so well rested. “Uhm. Good… afternoon?” He tried.
“Good afternoon, Vance. How are you feeling?” Herschel asked, gesturing to the bandages around Vance’s head.
“Oh. I’m feeling better, thanks..” Vance said, walking over to join them at the table. “Have you seen Michonne? We usually eat together, I’m really hungry.”
Beth shook her head. “I haven’t seen her. But I can get you something from the kitchen if you’d like. I think we still have some cereal. You’ll have to hold Judith for me though.”
“I can hold her.” Vance agreed. He took Judith from Beth’s arms, sitting down and putting her on his lap. The baby babbled and looked up at him. Vance met Judith’s eyes, a thought occurring to him. “Hey, Judith’s got brown eyes..” He commented. “Mr. Rick and Carl have blue eyes.”
“Blue eyes are a recessive gene, and brown eyes are a dominant trait.” Herschel told him. He reached up to his supplies on the table, seemingly doing some kind of inventory. “Both parents would have to carry the blue eyed gene, and then pass it on to their kids for them to have blue eyes.”
“I saw a picture of Carl’s mom and she had blue eyes too.” Vance pointed out. “So why doesn’t Judith also get blue eyes if her parents have them?”
“Genetics are a complicated thing. Our little sunshine Judith here seems to be an example of that.” Herschel smiled at Vance. Vance got the strange feeling that he wasn’t telling the whole truth.
He didn’t have time to ask, however, as Beth walked back over with a bowl of cereal, setting it down in front of Vance. She brought one for herself as well, joining him at the table. “So Vance, I heard that you might be staying with us. Is that true?” Beth asked.
Vance nodded, picking up his spoon. “Michonne and me said that we’d stay here and help you guys fight the Governor.”
“You understand what that could cost, right?” Herschel asked gently.
Vance nodded. “Michonne always told me that anything worth… worth-while doing wasn’t easy.” He said, taking a minute to remember the word ‘worthwhile.’
Beth chuckled. “Hey, my mama used to say that. Although, she was mostly talking about chores and stuff.” She looked over at Vance. “Did you have a lot of chores to do?”
“I had like, a ton of chores! But it's cause my momma was really sick when I was growing up. She didn’t really have the strength to do anything. So my brother made food for us, and I would keep the house clean.”
“Your brother would cook?”
“Yeah. He was a good cook. But in the beginning he used to burn stuff all the time. He once burnt macaroni. Can you believe it?”
“Ha, that’s…. Pretty funny.” Beth said. She smiled, and Vance got the feeling that she didn’t actually think it was funny, but was saying that to be polite. “How old were you and your brother when this was happening?” Beth asked him.
“Uhm. Well my brother was ten years older than me.” Vance scratched his head. “I think I was six, so when this was happening he was sixteen?”
“So it was just you, your brother, and your mom?”
Vance shook his head. “Nope. It was us three, and my dad. But my dad didn’t really help out. He was missing a leg like you, Dr. Herschel. But he lost, like, a lot more of it. And it hurt him a lot, so he was always drinking to try and help it calm down.”
“Your father drank?” Herschel prompted quietly.
“Beer, mostly. Budweiser. See I know cause I replaced his beer once with a different brand cause I thought maybe it was just the budweiser that made him mad, but the new one made him even madder and he broke the tv! I didn’t get to watch anything for three whole weeks until his check came in and we got a new one.” Vance ate some more cereal before continuing. “We didn’t have a lot of money ‘cause my dad couldn’t work with his leg, and my mom was too sick. So my brother went and got a job. Which was sad cause I didn’t get to see him anymore. But also I had to learn to do the stuff he used to do.”
“Your dad made you and you brother take care of things?”
“Yeah but like, he was also sick. But different. He was really upset when momma died and he couldn’t do anything, so I had to take care of us while my brother was at work. I kept missing school cause he wouldn’t take me, but my friend Zora got mad and started walking me to school. She was like my best friend. But Michonne’s my best friend now. Maybe Zora and I can still be best friends.” Vance finished off his cereal and looked up. “I was supposed to ask you, have you seen Michonne? Is she still helping Mr. Rick?”
Taken aback by the rapid change in topic, Herschel took a moment to respond. “Well, the last I saw, she was helping everyone outside. She came back inside soon afterwards and I haven’t seen her since. Would you like us to help you look?.” Herschel offered, looking a little concerned for him.
Vance shook his head and stood up. “It’s okay, I’ll go find her. I’m kind of tired of sleeping anyways.”
Herschel reached out a hand to Vance. “Well, you should take someone with you. You’re not fully recovered yet.” Herschel reminded him. “Maybe Carl can help you search.”
Vance hummed. “Yea, okay. I’ll go see if he’s awake.” Vance made his way back up the stairs, peeking into the room. Carl had taken over the bed, having tossed the blankets on the floor. Vance rolled his eyes and walked inside, grabbing the blankets and throwing them back onto Carl, who stirred at the motion. “Five more minutes.” He groaned, rolling over.
“It’s been like– twenty.” Vance said, even though it had most definitely not been twenty minutes. He grabbed his jacket off the floor, pulling it on. Vance paused. Why was he pulling on his shoes? He reached up to rub his head. He’d just been…. He’d come up the stairs and… Vance reached up to rub his head. Why was he so forgetful? He looked up to Carl. “Have you seen Michonne?” He asked. “I want to talk to her.”
“Michonne? She was supposed to help my dad and the others with the fence today.”
“Oh. Do you know if she came back yet?” Vance asked. If Carl didn’t know, he’d probably have to ask Hershel. He might know where Michonne was.
“I mean I was asleep until right now so, no. Not really. Why do you want to find her?” Carl asked, yawning. “You can’t help with the defense until your concussion is all better.”
“Oh.” Vance paused. “I didn’t think about that.” He admitted.
“So… back to bed?”
Vance shook his head. “No, I can’t sleep after I eat.”
“Why not?”
“I dunno. I just can’t.” Vance reached over and grabbed his backpack, pulling it open and grabbing his english workbook. He’d been doing a lot of sciency things lately. He should work on his writing. Michonne called it, ‘at-ro-cious.’ But she also said that he wrote like a doctor, which didn’t make sense. Because if his handwriting was atrocious, then how could it be like a doctor's? Doctors were smart, so they were supposed to have like, really good handwriting. Right?
Vance rummaged through his bag for a pencil. He managed to find one at the very bottom, and he sat down.
“What are you doing?” Carl asked, sitting up now.
“Michonne says that if I’m bored then I should work on my textbooks.” Vance answered, holding up his workbook so Carl could see.
“Oh. That’s lame.”
“Michonne said that it’s good to learn stuff cause it’ll come in handy later.”
“Do you listen to everything Michonne says?”
“She’s never been wrong before.”
Carl stretched his arms above his head and climbed out of bed, moving over to sit next to Vance. “So have you got anything else?”
Vance reached over into his backpack and pulled out his science textbook. “I’ve got this one. I’m on chapter three now. But you can read it. Just don’t lose my bookmark!”
“Is it this receipt between the pages?”
“Well I didn’t have an actual bookmark so… yeah. Don’t lose that. And don’t damage it either!” Vance said, suddenly adamant on Carl not damaging his book.
“Okay okay! So many rules.” Carl muttered, opening the book up to the first page.
Vance felt a little bad for his outburst, unsure of where the sudden anger came from. He muttered a quiet apology before moving over to write in his book, hoping that focusing on something calm would distract from his headache.
Carl left a little while later, bored from reading Vance’s science book. Vance stayed behind in the cell. Michonne hadn’t returned yet. Vance remembered asking Herschel now, the fog in his head finally clearing. The sun was starting to dip, and Vance decided to go out and try and look for Michonne. She had to be done with the fence now, right?
Vance climbed up to his feet, pulling back the curtain and stepping out. Rick and the others had gathered there in the main area. Daryl seemed to be angry about something.
“Well if he did take her he had a damn good reason for it.” Daryl said, crossing his arms defensively.
“That’s not his decision to make.” Rick argued. “Look, bring your brother and Michonne back–”
“And what if he just decided to up and take off and she left with him, huh?”
“And leave the boy here?” Rick shook his head. “Just bring them back. And we can talk about this.”
Daryl scoffed. “Fine. I’ll do it, and Merle will clear all of this up.”
Vance furrowed his brow. Michonne and Merle? Leaving together? There wasn’t a single reality Vance knew where Michonne would do that. Vance quietly moved down the stairs, in search of the nearest person who would actually tell him what was going on. He glanced at the adults, still talking. He hesitated before going upstairs.
Vance grabbed his backpack, shoving his things inside. He grabbed his gun that Carl had given him more bullets for after he lost his bow and arrow. Vance set it down and pulled on the leather holster he’d taken off the night prior before finally putting the gun away. Vance tugged the backpack over his shoulders.
Staying as quiet as he could, Vance left the room and hurried outside. He saw Daryl making his way over to the gate. Glenn and Rick were there opening it for him, meaning that Vance wouldn’t be able to follow him. Vance instead made his way over to one of the damaged fences that they were still fixing up. He was small enough to squeeze through some of the metal plates crudely tied to the fence before slipping out and hurrying over to the forest line. He walked slightly faster than he normally would, not wanting to lose sight of Daryl.
He caught up to the man after a while, but kept his distance. If Daryl caught him following, then it was likely that he’d make Vance go back. Vance didn’t want to go back and rest. Not when Michonne could be in danger. She had always protected him time and time again. It was his turn to return the favor.
Vance followed Daryl for a while. The other man must’ve been really lost in his thoughts if he didn’t notice Vance trailing behind. Michonne taught him to walk silently, but he knew he wasn’t nearly quiet rough to not be noticed by Daryl. Even then, he didn’t dare speak until they were far enough that Daryl couldn’t turn around and take Vance back.
The curiosity was killing him though, and he didn’t exactly have good impulse control right now seeing as he’d snuck out in his state. “Why did your brother take her?” Vance asked. Almost as soon as he spoke he regretted it, as even the birds went silent.
Daryl whipped around, spotting Vance. He relaxed, lowering his crossbow. “I don’t know.” He answered. “But he’s gotta have a good reason for doing what he did. And you better have a good reason for being out here.” He turned and kept walking. “The hell are you doing out here?”
Vance sped up a little, walking on Daryl’s left. “I’m going to help get Michonne back.” He answered.
“You’ve got a concussion. You’re probably making her chances worse just by being here.”
Vance frowned. “I’m fine. Herschel said–”
“I don’t give a damn what Herschel said. You’re a kid and you’re injured. You should’da stayed behind with the others.”
“Are you going to make me walk back?” Vance asked, slightly fearful that he’d jumped the gun and that Daryl was willing to walk him all the way back.
Daryl glanced down at Vance. “Are you going to drop dead if we get into trouble?”
Vance hesitated but shook his head. “No. Herschel said I’m fine.”
“Then no. But you’re going to do what I say and not say a damn word about it. Got it?”
Vance nodded. “Okay. I’m good at listening.”
“You’d better be.”
Vance stayed quiet for the rest of the journey. But it wasn’t easy. His head was killing him and every two steps he took he knew that Merle only needed one. That reminder frustrated Vance, and it made his headache even worse.
Daryl didn’t speak much, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts as he continued to track Merle. Vance tried to pick up on what Daryl was seeing, but he could only catch glimpses every now and then. It was obvious that the man was a skilled tracker, and that Vance could stand to learn a thing or two from him. It got a little hot in his thick jacket under the sun, so Vance pulled it off and wrapped it around his waist.
He felt off balance. Like his legs were a little longer than he remembered and he wasn’t used to the distance they could cover. He managed just fine though. Vance walked a little closer to Daryl, trying to see what it was that the other man was seeing on the ground to track them both. All Vance could really see was dirt and rocks and some stains. From what? Vance didn’t really know. Could streets stain? Apparently they could, because the gravel was super discolored. Maybe it was because–
“Look.” Daryl stopped and knelt down. He looked up at Vance expectantly. “Well if you can’t see it while you’re walking, how’re you gonna see it when you’re standing?”
Vance knelt down, moving a little closer to try and figure out what Daryl was talking about.
Daryl pointed down to the dirt. “You can’t see it too well since tracks don’t stay on the dirt. But it rained last night, so there’s mud everywhere.”
Vance looked down at where he was pointing. There on the ground he could see the faintest hint of a footprint. “Whoa.” He said, eyes wide with wonder. He looked back up at Daryl. “You have to have like, super vision or something to be able to see something like that.”
Daryl let out a quiet breath of air. “No powers. I just pay attention.”
“I pay attention!” Vance exclaimed. “But that’s like, super small.”
“Alright.” Daryl stood up and walked a few steps away before stopping. He gestured to the ground. “Try and find a footprint here.”
“You’re trying to teach me how to track now?” Vance asked, though he stood up anyways and followed.
“You’re huffing and puffing like a smoker.” Daryl crossed his arms. “This is your five minute break before we keep walking. Now find the damn footprint.”
Vance sighed and walked over. He knelt down like Daryl had told him to and started looking. “How do I find it?” He asked, trying to see a footprint.
“Look for the pattern. You’re looking for something that shouldn’t be there.”
Right. That was just oh so helpful. Vance bit back a complaint and kept looking. Something on the ground caught his eye. “That there. It looks weird. There’s straight lines.”
“Super vision is overrated.” Daryl said, starting to walk. “You just need more practice.”
Vance stood up and followed him again. “You’re pretty good at this stuff Mr. Daryl. Were you like, a hunter or something before all this?”
“Mm. Something like that.”
“Okay. Were you a… documentary guy?”
“What?”
“Cause y’know, they’ve gotta find the animals and all. So they gotta learn how to track.”
Daryl sighed and shook his head. “I never worked on a documentary.”
“Okay. Were you like… one of those survival guys?”
“Sort of.”
“I’m getting closer, aren’t I?” Vance grinned.
“Sure kid.”
Vance thought about who could be a hunter and a survival kind of guy when a thought occurred to him. He gave a glance at Daryl. “Mr. Daryl, were you… in the military?”
‘My dad tried to ship me off.”
“What happened?”
“I ran away.”
Vance looked up at Daryl. He knew what it was like, wanting to run away. Feeling like you had to. Vance’s dad had always told Vance that he was going to the military whether he liked it or not. That it would teach him to be less of a pansy and he wouldn’t become a… not so nice word. Vance slowly reached out and grabbed Daryl’s hand.
Daryl looked down at him. “The hell are you doing?”
“Comforting you.” Vance answered. “I don’t think you like hugs.”
“And what makes you think I’d want to hold your hand?”
“Uhm. Less contact?”
Daryl let out that same breath of air he had earlier. Vance realized that it was meant to be a laugh. Vance smiled, glad that he had been able to cheer Daryl up somehow. He continued walking, not yet letting go of the others hand. Daryl was sort of like him, Vance decided. His dad was also a big jerk and tried to send him away. Maybe they could be friends somehow. Although, Daryl didn’t really seem the type for friendship bracelets. But that was okay. Carl wasn’t the type either. But maybe pretty soon Vance could make some friends who he’d be able to wear a friendship bracelet with. But he’d have to learn how to make one first.
The tracks led to a mill that was surrounded by a few walkers. Vance could see them trying to get at something inside a car, clawing at the door. There was something inside that caught their interest. Likely people. Were Merle and Michonne inside there? Vance looked up at Daryl. “What are we going to do?” Vance asked quietly so he wouldn’t catch the walkers attention.
Daryl looked around. He spotted a second car just a few feet away. “Were going to draw their attention away from the car, and get them out of there.” He held on tightly to Vance’s hand and led him over to the treeline. They crouched down behind a few trees and Daryl lifted up his crossbow, taking aim at the car. The arrow flew through the air, and broke the class. But for some reason, the alarm didn’t sound.
“Why didn’t it work?” Vance asked quietly.
“Not all cars have the sensor.” Daryl answered, grabbing a second arrow and setting it on the mechanism. “And some of them are just dead.” With that, he fired off another arrow. This time he hit the steering wheel, and the horn started blaring.
It immediately caught the attention of the walkers, who left the car to go chase the new sound. Daryl waited until they were all surrounding the other car before getting up and sneaking over to the first car. Vance followed him, doing his best to stay quiet as well.
They approached the door, but Daryl stopped in front of the drivers seat. Vance leaned over, trying to see why he’d stopped. Vance couldn’t see anything, so he stood up. There in the drivers seat was Merle. But… dead. His jaw was snapping over and over like something was dangling in front of him, and his hand was limply banging at the door.
Vance grimaced, taking a step back. He had just been talking to the man a day or two ago. Or… three days…? The time didn’t matter. Someone Vance knew was dead, and it always left him with a sickly feeling in his stomach. But the worst realization hit a second later. Michonne wasn’t in the seat next to him. Vance rushed over to the other side to try and see better. Nothing. Michonne was gone.
Vance turned over to the group of walkers. He hadn’t seen Michonne with them but… Without thinking, Vance ran over to them. He heard Daryl shout but he ignored him. Vance grabbed the first walker he saw, yanking them back and looking them in the face. Not Michonne. An arrow embedded itself in the walker's head and it dropped to the ground. Vance turned and started grabbing the other walkers, pushing and moving them as he searched for Michonne. Each one he grabbed shortly dropped to the floor with an arrow in it’s head.
Finally the last one fell, and Vance let out a heavy breath, realizing Michonne wasn’t there. A hand grabbed him and practically forced him to turn around. “What the hell is wrong with you?” Daryl exclaimed. “You trying to get yourself killed or something?”
“Michonne’s not here!” Vance said, ignoring him. “The Governor has her! I need to get her back.”
“Then we’ll go back and get the others.”
“No! We have to save her now! He’s going to kill her!” Vance said, pulling his arm free from Daryl. He stepped back from the man, looking up at him. “I’m really sorry about you brother. I know what that’s like. But I have to go save the last person I care about before I lose her too.” He looked over at the car where Merle still was banging at the window “You can stay here and take your brother back to the prison. But I’m going.”
“You’re not going anywhere dammit.” .
“Then stop me.” Vance said, crossing his arms. With that, he turned and walked off, stepping over the body of the fallen walkers. He didn’t wait for Daryl. He didn’t turn around. Not until it started to get dark. Vance had been keeping to the space where the road met the forest, and was headed in the direction of Woodsbury. When he finally arrived, Vance turned around to see if Daryl had decided to follow him, but no one was there. Slightly upset by how things turned out, Vance felt his mood drop just slightly. But he steadied himself and turned back towards the gates.
Michonne had mentioned to Andrea that there was a girl who guarded the North gate alone. Going through there was his best shot, but Vance wasn’t a ninja. He’d definitely get spotted. He needed a distraction so he could find a way through.
Groaning caught his attention. There in the woods were a few straggling walkers. Vance heard a gunshot, and he looked up to see the guards shooting at a few of the walkers that had gotten close to the gate. The sound was likely what was attracting them.
An idea formed in his head, and Vance ducked into the woods. He grabbed his jacket and took it off, holding it out to the walker's face. The jacket smelled a little bit like Carl and Michonne from where Carl had slept next to him the night before and where Michonne had been carrying him the other day. The walker caught their scents, and began moving closer. Vance repeated these steps with the next few walkers he came across until he’d managed to build a small army. He counted about twenty walkers, and a few that were walking over that were attracted by the growing herd. Vance carefully pushed past them and started walking in the direction of the north gate.
Feeling dizzy after running around the forest to gather the walkers, Vance leaned against the tree to wait for them to catch up to where he was. His head was killing him, and he was starting to feel that he really should’ve waited for Daryl. Or maybe let Mr. Rick and his group handle it. But Vance wasn’t thinking straight. All he wanted was Michonne back. He was wasting time.
Vance pushed himself off the tree and moved a little closer to the edge. There was a girl there, guarding it just as Michonne had said. She was all the way to the left, staring off into the distance. She had on a pair of binoculars, meaning that if Vance hurried, she wouldn’t see him. Vance crouched down and hurried over to the wall as fast as he could, pressing himself against it once he was there. Vance grabbed his jacket and began rubbing it all over the wall, trying to make sure that he left some kind of scent for the walkers to keep going that way. When he was satisfied, he glanced up at the girl before running over to hide underneath a car. He crammed himself underneath, grabbing a rock in his hand. He crawled out, moving over to the edge and tossing it at a nearby car and ducking back underneath. The rock missed the car, and Vance cursed. He grabbed another rock and peeked out, tossing it at the car. This time, the rock shattered the window, catching the girls attention.
“Holy shit–”
Vance heard her fumbling with something and he peeked out. Her attention was drawn to the small horde of walkers approaching from the right, headed towards the spot he’d marked on the wall. Vance carefully crawled out from under the car, headed to the left. He moved over to the panels, searching as fast as he could for a weak spot. There was a piece of metal that had been peeling back, as if it wasn’t secured right. Vance grabbed at the metal, careful of the sharp edges, and gave it a pull. The metal pulled back with a loud noise and Vance looked up. The girl was still distracted with the walkers, but she was talking into a radio now.
Vance pushed himself into the small gap he’d created, starting to make his way through the fence. He kicked the metal plate out, giving himself a bigger space to get through. Vance made it through the rest of the wall, but he paused once he reached the inside of Woodsbury. Making a distraction so he could get in was smart. But he should likely cause a distraction so he could actually get around. The wall wasn’t as secure when you were on the other side, so pulling apart the planks and metal plates were pretty simple. Vance did the same method as before, rubbing his jacket all over the tunnel he’d made so that the walkers could actually find it before deciding that he was taking too long.
Vance pulled his jacket back on and started moving in the shadows of the buildings. It was dark and far past curfew. No one should’ve been out. It was good for Vance, because he couldn’t hear his footsteps over the pounding heartbeat in his ears. He made his way to The Governor's house. He remembered it despite only having been there once. It was likely that The Governor had Michonne in there. If he lied to everyone about the military supplies, then it would make sense that he didn’t want them knowing about Michonne.
Vance avoided the front door moving over to one of the windows. The lights were off and there was no one inside. Vance grabbed the window and slowly pushed it up. He slipped inside, quietly closing it behind him. Vance looked around. He didn’t know the first thing about hidden dungeons and basements. He’d just have to start trying all the doors and hoping one would lead him to Michonne.
Vance quietly moved throughout the house. He had a small flashlight with him but it didn’t illuminate much. Regardless, he used it to briefly check each room to see what it was. A bathroom. A pantry. A.. second bathroom. A closet. And… stairs.
Vance knelt down, moving the flashlight along as he confirmed that these were stairs. Hidden basement found. Vance quietly made his way down, putting his foot down slowly to see if it would creak. He made it to the bottom and pulled out his gun. Vance took a deep breath before he flicked off the safety. He couldn’t hesitate to kill the Governor if it came down to it. Michonne wouldn’t hesitate to kill for him. Human or walker. So Vance couldn’t freeze up.
Vance slowly tilted the doorknob, listening for any movement inside. He could hear something clicking, rustling inside. He opened the door and stepped inside, bringing up the gun and flashlight. There was no one in there. Vance gave a quick look over to the wall and spotted a switch. He stepped backwards, something that sounded like glass crunching under his shoes. He flicked on the light and saw…
Vance gagged at the sight. Walker heads laying on the ground. They were biting the air, trying to move around. Search for food. Vance looked at the glass under his feet and followed it over to the weird sort of fish tanks. Had the governor kept them there? Taking out his knife, Vance started to kill each of the walkers. It was mercy to him. Killing the walkers whenever you got the chance. They were once people. This was the least he could do to help them. Help others traveling around so they wouldn’t get bit by a walker Vance let roam around.
Vance just finished stabbing the last walker when he saw a body laying in a cage. “Michonne?” Vance whispered quietly. He was hesitant to approach the cage. He reached out to open it, but it was locked. Vance looked down at the body in the corner. “Michonne!” He whispered again. She didn’t even move. Was she still breathing?
Vance looked back at the door. He hurried over and closed it, hoping it might muffle the gunshot, though he highly doubted it. Vance grabbed a pillow off the seat in the room and pressed it against the lock. Vance lined up the barrel of the gun and took a deep breath, looking away and firing the shot. There wasn’t a point in using the pillow as it didn’t muffle anything. Vance tossed it aside, in disappointment before running over and dropping down next to the body. He grabbed their shoulders and turned them around to find…
A girl. One that had been turned a long time ago. Vance furrowed his brow and let go. He saw the wound on her forehead. A stab wound. He recognized the shape. The same that he’d seen Michonne’s leave in various walkers before. Michonne had been here. Vance got up and turned around, going to walk out when the door opened. Vance stepped back as The Governor entered.
Vance raised his gun. “Where is Michonne?”
“Michonne is just fine.’ The Governor said smoothly. He took a few steps into the room, raising his hands in the air. “She’s getting her things as we speak.”
“Getting her things to do what?” Vance snapped, adjusting his grip on the gun.
The Governor took another step closer. “Well she has to pay for what she did. So she’s going to go out. Bring us food, weapons, supplies. If she brings back enough, then we’ll consider forgiving her for what she did.”
“You’re just going to kill her.” Vance shook his head. “You’re going to kill her while she’s out there.”
“I’d never separate a mother and their child.” The Governor took a step closer, causing Vance to snp his hands up to aim at his head.
“Don’t take another step.” Vance warned him. “Take me to her. Now.”
“Okay, okay.” The Governor slowly turned his back to Vance. “I’ll take you there.” The Governor started walking up the stairs. Vance followed him. The Governor turned the corner and Vance turned to follow him, but a hand flew out and smacked him across the face. Vance cried out and stumbled.
The Governor chased him down, grabbing Vance by the collar. Vance grabbed his gun and fired it, managing to disorient The Governor. Vance scrambled to his feet and kicked the Governor in the nose. The Governor let out a yell and reached up to feel the blood running down his face. “You little–” The Governor lunged forward and grabbed Vance’s leg, knocking Vance off his feet. Vance grunted and brought his gun up again, but The Governor hit the gun out of Vance’s hand. He grabbed Vance’s wrist and pulled him forward. Vance leaned down and bit The Governor’s hand. With any luck maybe Vance could infect the governor.
The Governor, already angered with Vance, grabbed him by the jacket and slammed him into the ground. The hit jostled Vance so hard that he hit his head, and blacked out.
. The Governor, holding him by the arm as he roughly dragged Vance through some strange building, didn’t seem to care that Vance wasn’t even walking anymore. If anything he just adjusted his grip and continued to drag Vance’s unconscious body along the ground.
The Governor banged on the door, and it opened to reveal Milton.
“Sir, I mean no disrespect but it’s very late and I’d–”
“Shut up and get inside, Milton.” The Governor ordered. He pushed past Milton, dragging Vance along with him.
Milton closed the door and trailed off after The Governor. “That’s the boy from a few days ago. You’re certain he’s immune?”
“Andrea said she’d seen the bites on him before.” The Governor stopped walking and grabbed Vance’s shirt, lifting it up to reveal faded bites on the boy’s side. “I don’t know about you, but those look like bites to me.”
“They could very well be human or animal.” Milton pointed out.
The Governor set Vance down to grab a set of keys from his pocket. “I told you that you’d have a private place to test this immunity.” He said, finding the key and unlocking the door. “You have two subjects. One immune, one not.” The Governor grabbed Vance by the arm again and turned on the lights, revealing Andrea strapped down to a dentist chair in the center of the room.
Andrea’s eyes widened at the sight of Vance. “Vance!” She exclaimed, but the boy didn’t respond. She pulled at her bonds. “What the hell did you do to him?” She demanded.
“Calm down.” The Governor said, grabbing the boy and lifting him up. “I didn’t hit him that hard.” He set Vance down on the metal table in the room. “Milton, help me secure him.”
When Milton didn’t move, The Governor turned to face him with an angry expression. “Did you hear me, Milton?”
“I’m not too sure about this.” Milton admitted. “What if what Andrea told us was wrong, and he’s not immune? It wouldn’t be right experimenting on a boy so young for no reason.”
“You want proof?” The Governor left the room, and returned with a walker impaled on a stick. The walker stopped trying to grab at The Governor, and instead started to grab at Milton. “Look at that. The thing doesn’t even realize the boys here.” The Governor moved closer to Vance, bringing the walker over to Vance, but it still reached for Milton.
“Get that thing away from him!” Andrea exclaimed. “You touch a hair on his head and I’ll kill you, do you hear me? I’ll kill you!”
The Governor ignored her, staring at Milton. “Are you satisfied, or would you like to see it bite him?”
“Don’t you dare–”
Infuriated with Andrea’s constant interjections, The Governor shoved the walker forwards, over to her. “I can let this thing bite you. And if Milton doesn’t start developing a cure you’ll be one of them in however long it takes for the infection to reach you.” The Governor moved over to a corner of the room with a chair. He forced the walker down, picking up some rope from the ground and loosely tying it to the chair. He turned back to Milton. “I got you your experiments. I got you your supplies. You’re going to do as I say. Or this stops.” With that, he left the room.
Michonne finally arrived at the prison. The sun was already setting in the distance when she made it to the gates. She opened them and moved inside, spotting Rick in the distance. Michonne wanted to check on Vance first, but she trusted that Herschel was keeping an eye on the boy. Michonne walked over to Rick, and it was a tense sort of silence. Like they were waiting to see who’d speak first.
Rick let out a sigh, reaching up to brush his hair back. “Look, the deal that the Governor offered,”
“You had to think about it.” Michonne nodded. “I understand, I would’ve done the same.”
“Sonehow I doubt that.” Rick let out a quiet chuckle that didn’t seem all too amused. “I am sorry for considering it. I came close to…”
“But you didn’t.” Michonne replied. She crossed her arms. “I never thanked you for what you did that day. Taking us in.”
“If it wasn’t for the boy, I wouldn’t have.”
“And when you let us stay. Was that still because of him?”
Rick shook his head. “It wasn’t me that made that decision.”
“Who was it?”
“Carl.” Rick looked back towards the prison. “I guess your boy made an impression on him, because he told me that he wanted you two to stay. That you fit in, and deserved a place here.”
Michonne’s lips twitched in a small smile. “He has a way of worming into your heart.” She mused. She turned towards the prison as well. “How is he?”
“Hershel said he was up a few hours ago.” Rick crossed his arms. “I think he’s still in the cell with Carl.”
“Becoming good friends I hope.”
At that, Rick let out a real chuckle. “Oh that won’t happen for a long time. The two seem to be at each other's throats every five minutes.”
Michonne hummed. “I should go check on them then.” She said, moving past Rick. Michonne entered the prison to find that Carl was sitting with Beth at the table, holding Judith on his lap. But Vance was nowhere to be found.
Beth looked up and smiled, seeing Michonne enter. “Hey. Daryl found you.”
Michonne shook her head. “No. I came back on my own.”
Carl turned to look at her. “Wait so where’s Daryl and Vance?”
At that, Michonne felt her blood run cold. “What?”
Beth and Carl shared a glance. Beth hesitantly spoke up. “Daryl went out to look for you. Carl said that Vance went with him to look.”
“He said that Herschel said it was okay.” Carl added quickly. “That he was all better.”
Without another word, Michonne left upstairs to their cell. Vance wasn’t there, and neither was his stuff . She grabbed her sword and slung the sheath over her shoulder.Michonne grabbed her backpack off the floor and haphazardly tossed it on before storming out of her cell.
Rick was there when she entered, talking to Daryl. For a moment, Michonne felt hopeful, but when she saw that Vance was nowhere to be found, she grew fearful once more. She moved down the stairs and brought her sword out of its sheath. Michonne grabbed Daryl by the front of his vest and held the blade up to his neck. “Where is he?” She hissed. “Where the hell is Vance?”
Daryl’s face, stained with blood and tear tracks, turned angry. “Look, I told the kid to come back. If he–”
“You did what?!” She pressed her blade closer to his neck, drawing a line of blood.
Daryl didn’t falter. “We found my brother. The kid thought something happened to you, and he wanted to keep going. I couldn’t stop him–:”
“He’s a child!” Michonne exclaimed. “What do you mean, you couldn’t stop him?” Her anger towards him was justifiable. He’d let a child wander off in a dangerous world when he had been concussed just two days prior. Michonne let go of Daryl and sheathed her blade. “I’m going to find him.” She said, not looking away from Daryl. “You are going to help me. And if there is so much as a hair missing from his head, I’m going to kill you.”
“What more do you need?” The Governor asked, standing in the room.
Milton reached over to Vance's arm to grab the catheter hooked up to him. He pulled it out, starting to collect the blood bag from the IV. “Well I ought to take this back to the lab and analyze it, see what it tells me.”
“And you’ll get what you need to know from blood alone?”
“It’ll give me an idea of what I’m working with.” Milton told him. “I can decide what to do from there”
“You’re holding back.”
“No I’m not.” Milton defended. “It’s the logical pah t go down when using human experiments. To remain as humane as possible.”
“We’re past that now. I allowed you to experiment on Mr. Coleman. What’s the difference now? That your experiment is conscious? That he’s a boy?”
“Well, partially–"
The Governor slammed his hand down on the table. “You don’t get to be ethical! Not in this world. Now you can either experiment on the boy and develop that cure, or end up dying and becoming one of those things.”He stared down at Milton before his eyes drifted to Andrea. He saw her bonds, now much looser then before. The Governor’s face hardened and he grabbed a knife off the counter.
“No!” Milton shouted, lunging for the blade.
The Governor grabbed Milton and stabbed him, sinking the knife in deep. The Governor made sure to stare at Milton as he kept the blade there. “Survival of the fittest, Milton.” He reminded him. “And it looks like you just… didn’t make the cut.” He stepped back, taking the knife with him. “Now you’re going to kill the girl, and that boy is going to starve to death. And this all could’ve been avoided.” The Governor shook his head and grabbed Milton, tossing him over to the walker in the chair.
Milton screamed as the walker bit into his neck. The Governor, not phased at all, walked out of the room.
Milton’s screams woke Vance, who looked around groggily. His head was swimming with everything that’d just happened. His head injury along with blood being taken from him. Vance’s eyes drifted over to Milton who had pulled himself off the walker. He stared blankly for a few moments, unsure of what was happening. There was a lot of blood on the floor now. Far too much for Milton to survive. The man went limp on the ground.
“Vance!” Andrea exclaimed. “Can you free yourself?”
Vance grimaced at her loud volume. He looked down at himself on the table. His wrists and his ankles were bound. Vance took a deep breath, trying to shake off the disorientation plaguing him. “I’ll try.” He answered.
“Please hurry.” Andrea said, starting to pull at her own restraints.
Vance struggled against his bonds. The ones around his wrist were somewhat loose. If he could force his hand through it, he could get free. The reanimated Milton slowly started to get up and approach Andrea, weak from its injuries.
Vance yanked at the leather bonds over and over. His wrists were red with the effort and the leather rubbing against him. Vance laid his head back, trying to catch his breath as fast as he could. Knowing he couldn’t waste any time, he started yanking at the bonds as hard as he could. This time, his right hand managed to slip through the bonds, but not without scratching his skin all the way to his thumb.
The pain made his head spin and he had to shut his eyes before he threw up. Vance sniffled and did his best to ignore the pain. He freed his other hand and pushed himself up, freeing his ankles before moving to get off the exam table.
Unsteady from the blood loss, Vance crashed down onto the floor. Pain spread like a wildfire across his body. His head was spinning from the impact, and he felt even more nauseous. The sound of groaning made him look up to see Milton crawling onto the dentist chair, and Andrea struggling to get free. Vance looked to the side and saw a scalpel laying there on the ground. The one that The Governor had used to stab Milton. He reached out and grabbed it, and pushed himself up onto shaky legs.
Vance stepped forward, almost tripping over his own two feet. Vance made a swing with the scalpel, but he missed. He stumbled forward and his side hit the arm of the chair.
Andrea let out a cry and Vance swung again, this time managing to lodge the scalpel in Milton’s head. With a great amount of effort, Vance put his hands on Milton’s face and pushed him off of Andrea. Milton’s body hit the ground with a loud thump.
Vance closed his eyes and laid his head on Andrea’s chest, trying to catch his breath before he ended up passing out.
“Vance– Vance, stay with me.” Andrea called loudly, trying to keep him awake.
“I’m… here.” Vance mumbled. Did his tongue always feel so heavy? It was like his mouth was full of cotton and he couldn’t figure out how to move his lips to form words. He felt her arm moving beneath him and he moved off her, going to help free her arm. Vance looked up at Andrea, and horror washed over him as he saw the bite mark on the junction where her neck met her shoulder.
“Andrea,” Vance whimpered. “I’m so– I’m so sorry. I- I’m–” A sob ripped through Vance’s body, literally shaking him in his weakened state.
Andrea reached up to her neck, covering the wound from his vision.“No, don’t apologize." She whispered. She reached up with her free hand to cradle Vance’s head. “It’s my fault, Vance, I'm sorry.” She brought her forehead to his. “I’m so sorry. I never should’ve…” She trailed off. She sat up in the chair. “Come on, help me up. We need to try and get you out of here.”
“But you’re bit.” Vance whispered.
“And you’re not. That means you have a chance.” She pushed herself up out of the chair. “ Andrea looked back at Vance, seeing him still slumped next to the chair. She helped him up so he could sit in the chair. “Catch your breath. You’re going to need it.” She advised him. Andrea made her way over to the chair where the governor had previously tied the walker to. She grabbed the large pike, lifting it up and bringing it over to the door.
She jammed it between the lock and the doorway, carefully wiggling it deeper until it wouldn’t move. She started to push against the pike, over and over. But the door didn’t budge. Andrea let out a grunt and adjusted her grip on the tool. She pried at the door again and again to no avail, but she didn’t give up until the pike finally snapped, leaving her with a broken tool. Andrea grabbed the half still stuck in the door and pulled it out. The metal was rusted and it was obvious that it wouldn’t have been much help either way. Still, she adjusted her grip and started taking the sharp metal to the lock.
It took only minutes for her to get sick, as the bite was on her neck. Andrea looked over at Vance, laying on the seat she couldn’t just leave herself in a room with him after she reanimated. Immune or not, two walkers in a room alone had to be scary. Andrea walked over to Vance, who’d fallen asleep. She gave his shoulders a gentle shake. “Hey, Vance.” She whispered.
The boy let out an involuntary yawn. “Mm? Drea?”
“Yeah, it’s me. Listen, I don’t know how much time I have left.” Her voice began to waver. “So, I need you to help me. Can you do that?”
Vance nodded slowly. “What do I do?”
Andrea helped him sit up and pointed to the door. “I’ve been trying to get the doorknob off. I’m hoping maybe we can push it out and try and open it from the other side, but I’m not strong enough anymore. When you’re strong enough, I want you to keep trying that, okay?”
Vance nodded. “I can do that.”
“Good, good. And if that doesn’t work, start trying the hinges, okay? Just, whatever you do, don’t give up on getting out of here. Do you understand?”
Vance let out a sniffle. “I don’t want to leave you.”
“I know, Vance. I know. But you have to.” Andrea reached up to cup Vance’s cheeks. “I want you to. I want you to make it out of here and live a long and happy life. You’re all I have left Vance, you and Michonne. So you two take care of each other.”
Vance closed his eyes, feeling exhausted. Andrea pulled Vance to lay against her side. “Just a few minutes, okay? Then we’ve gotta keep trying.” She whispered to him.
Vance nodded meekly, not too sure if he’d wake up in a few minutes. More like a few hours. Or days. If ever.
If you asked Vance now what happened that night, if Vance even answered at all, he wouldn’t say very much. Vance didn’t know how to tell people what happened. That he just remembered being strapped down to a table, having his blood taken. What would people think? That he got abducted by aliens? Vance barely even remembered getting up. But he could see it so vividly in his dreams, Milton biting Andrea. Vance could never remember how it happened exactly. How Milton turned, or how he got there in the first place. All he could remember was that Andrea got bit and he was too slow to stop it. His memory after that was fuzzy. He could remember Andrea talking to him. She put something around his neck. Her necklace. It had a singular pearl on it. Vance remembered Andrea talking about it. It was a gift from her sister Amy when she went off for college. She was quiet for a while. Then she started explaining something. A plan maybe. Then it was like the tv fixed itself, and he could see the next part crystal clear.
The door burst open, and Michonne entered, looking around wildly until her eyes landed on Vance and Andrea. “Oh— oh,” her eyes watered with tears and she immediately knelt down to them both. Her hands went to Vance first, lifting his head. “Oh my sweet boy.” She whispered. She looked up at Andrea.
“I’m sorry, Mich.” Andrea whispered. “For getting us into this mess.”
“Apologize when we get out of here.” Michonne said, going to lift up Vance.
Andrea reached out and grabbed Michonne's wrist. “There’s no time.” She pulled the collar of her jacket away from her neck to reveal the bite.
A quiet sob left Michonne's lips. “No/ you- you and…?”
“Just me.” Andrea whispered. “Milton took blood from Vance but nothing else. He’ll be fine.” A shudder ripped through her. “Please, Michonne. Take him away from here. I don’t want him to see this,”
“I’ll be right back. Just hang on, okay?.” Michonne said. “I’ll stay here with you.” She glanced over at the boy who was holding onto Andrea like he’d fall if he didn’t. She gently pried his hands away from Andrea, lifting him up.
She stepped outside the room, moving aside as Rick entered. Michonne looked up at Daryl. “Hold him for me. Don’t let him go.”
Daryl nodded and immediately walked over, picking Vance up into his arms. “I’ve got him. I won’t let him go this time.”
Vance squirmed in Daryl’s hold. “No- let me go. I want- I want to be there— please- Andrea!”
Daryl hoisted Vance a little higher before finally walking away. Vance struggled in his hold, trying his best to fight off the exhaustion that was sinking in. He couldn’t get free from Daryl’s hold, and Vance started to cry.
A gunshot rang out, and it was like a train hit him full force. A wail ripped itself free from his throat. Vance buried his face in Daryl’s shirt, and Daryl picked up the pace a little bit, trying to get Vance as far away from the scene as possible.
“I’m sorry, Vance.” Daryl said quietly. He continued to carry Vance out, not letting him go for a second.
Vance continued to cry, he couldn’t bring himself to speak. His big sister. The only one he’d ever known. She was gone. No more teasing remarks. No more races to a tree or training sessions. There wasn’t anyone to teach him how to fish, or laugh when he fell off the boat. Andrea was gone. And it was all his fault.
Daryl finally set Vance down when they were at the prison. Vance refused to be carried any further, and wanted to walk himself to his cell. He made his way up the stairs at what felt like a sails pace. He didn’t know having your blood be taken would make him so… weak.
Vance pulled back the curtain to find Carl in the cell. He was sitting on the floor, reading from Vance’s textbook. The sight, for some reason, made Vance angry.
“Don’t touch my stuff when I’m not here.” He snapped, walking over and taking the book from Carl. He looked down at the pages to find that some of the corners had blood on them. He glared at Carl. “You stained it.” He muttered, closing the book and tossing it on the bed.
Carl stared at Vance blankly. “You’re covered in blood.”
“Not mine.” Vance glanced down. “Not all of it.”
Carl walked over and grabbed Vance’s wrist, starting to drag him out of the room. Vance was too dizzy to be angry and he grabbed Carl’s wrist, stopping him. “A little slower. I’m… not feeling too good.” He said, unsure of why he was even letting Carl drag him around in the first place.
Carl, to his credit, slowed down as they went down the stairs. He waited for Vance to catch his breath before leading him over to the showers where they kept the water basins. Carl let go of his hand and grabbed a basket of towels, bringing them over to the water basins. “Herschel says that we should clean off blood as soon as we can ‘cause we can get an infection or hepa…hepatitus.”
Vance nodded slowly. “I think Michonne told me about that.” The two started to clean the blood off themselves. Vance discarded his jacket to the floor, taking a rag and pouring some water on it from a cup, and using it to start cleaning his arms. Milton’s blood mostly, mixed with Andrea’s. A little bit of his from his fight with the governor. He might’ve gotten an infection then if the blood seeped in. That was fun. Getting taken out not by the virus, but by a simple infection. Well– there wasn’t anything simple about hepatitis. Michonne said it was really bad. That’s probably why she emphasized being hygienic as often as possible.
“I was really angry when my mom died.” Carl spoke up, causing Vance to pause what he was doing and look up at Carl. He stayed quiet, letting the other boy speak without interrupting him. Carl started to scrub harder at his hands. “I didn’t really… talk to anyone. My dad tried, but I hated talking to him the most. I thought he was weak” With his vigorous hand washing, Carl knocked over a cup of water. He cursed as it fell over, and he leaned down to pick it up. “If he was stronger, it wouldn’t have happened. Mom would still be here. Telling me that she…” Carl reached up to rub his nose, and Vance could’ve sworn that he’d heard the other sniffle. “I had to be strong. To… make sure she didn’t turn after she died.” His voice cracked, and he looked away from Vance.
Vance looked down at the rag he’d been using to clean himself, seeing how red it had become. He thought about something else, wanting to change the subject. “Uhm. The blood on your hands. How’d that happen?”
Carl sniffled once more before speaking. “When they went to go save you. The Governor came and attacked, but Glenn knew it would happen. So we started escaping, and we set a trap for him and his guys. But there was a boy in the woods.” Carl took in a deep breath. “I was protecting Judith, Beth and Herschel. So I… killed him.”
It was quiet for a long time.
“I… I’m angry too.” Vance spoke up, not wanting to sit in the uncomfortable silence.. “I wasn’t strong enough to save Andrea.” Vance reached up to wipe the stray tear that fell down his cheek. “I wish I was as strong as you when you pulled the trigger. Cause… cause then she’d still be here. Making fun of me for my handwriting or something. Just… the stuff that big sisters do, y’know?”
The cup crashed to the ground again, but this time Carl didn’t pick it up. “You’re not strong like me.” Carl said, without turning to face Vance. “You’re too…”
“Childish?” Vance asked, but Carl didn’t reply. Instead, Carl snatched a towel from the basket and stormed off.
Vance let out a quiet sigh and looked down at his hands. Carl was right, wasn’t he? Vance was weak. He was too childish. He had to rely on Michonne to tell him who the bad guys were. He couldn’t save Michonne from The Governor when he thought he had her. And he couldn’t save Andrea when it was just him and Milton. Vance reached down to grab a dry towel, drying himself on. He quietly vowed to be stronger. More like Carl. He wouldn’t lose anyone else he cared about. Vance reached up to feel the pearl on the necklace, tucking it underneath his shirt.
There in the distance stood Carl in the doorway, looking at Vance. He remembered his mothers words. Not to let the world spoil him. Vance wasn’t spoiled. Vance had seen the world for what it was. Vance lost someone. He lost his family. And he was still kind. Like Carl’s mother wanted him to be. Carl clenched his fists and quietly walked off.
General tags: TWD, original character, backstory, not canon compliant
Word count: 12, 047
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Prologue:
Vance followed Carl into the prison. Carl was carrying the basket full of baby supplies, the bottles rattling inside the basket with every step. Vance looked down at himself, seeing Michonne’s blood staining his clothes. It was lukewarm still, sticking to his skin and leaving him with an uncomfortable feeling. Carl led him into a large room with a lot of cells before finally arriving at the space where Michonne was sitting up.
There was an old man sitting next to her, cleaning the wound. Vance looked down at the man’s missing leg. Was he a vet? “Who’s that?” Vance asked Carl.
“That’s Herschel. He’s our doctor.” Carl explained. He stayed outside the bar door, letting Vance go inside with Michonne.
Vance walked over, sitting by Michonne and leaning into her. “Are you okay?” Vance asked quietly. Michonne didn’t answer, but she reached an arm over to wrap around his shoulders and give him a squeeze. Vance melted into the touch, leaning into her.
“She’ll be alright.” Herschel answered for her. “The bullet didn’t nick anything important. With a few days rest she should be alright.”
Vance nodded slowly. He watched Herschel finish cleaning the wound, confused when the man stopped. Herschel looked up at Vance. “Do you know how to properly bandage a wound?” He asked him.
Vance shook his head. “Not really.”
“If it’s alright, I’d like to show him how.” Herschel said to Michonne. “It would be good for him to learn some first aid.”
Michonne nodded. “Go ahead.” She said to Vance.
Vance got up, kneeling down next to Herschel.
“So you’re going to want to keep some kind of cleaning agent on you. Hydrogen peroxide, alcohol wipes like these, or just some water to flush out the wound if you don’t have anything else.” Herschel explained. “Here, take these bandages. You’re going to place this gauze over the wound, and then start wrapping it like this.” Herschel started to wrap Michonne's wound slowly, making sure Vance was watching. He unwrapped it, holding the bandages out to Vance. “You try.”
Vance took the bandages from him, moving closer to Michonne. He started to wrap her leg the same way Herschel had.
“Ah ah, that’s too loose. It’ll slip right off. It needs to be firm, but not tight.” Herschel corrected him.
Vance fixed the loose bandages, wrapping Michonne’s wound a little more tightly. Herschel watched carefully, nodding when Vance finished. “Good. Now tie the knot. Just like you would with a shoelace, then tuck it in.”
Vance did as Hersel said, pulling back when he was done. Herschel gave him a smile. “That’s very good. We’ll make a medic out of you yet.” He chuckled. He reached over and grabbed his crutches, pushing himself to his feet with a groan. “Ah, these bones of mine.”
The man from earlier who had carried Michonne walked into the small cell. “How are they?” He asked Herschel.
“Well the young miss will be just fine. But I haven’t checked on the boy yet.” Herschel looked over at Michonne. “I was waiting for her permission.”
Michonne glanced over at Vance. She looked back to Hershel, giving him a nod.
Herschel started moving to a second bench. “Over here. We can let the adults talk while I check on you.” He sat back down, motioning for Vance to join him.
Vance moved over to the bench, sitting down beside Hershel. He hesitated before finally shrugging off his jacket. Vance looked down at his arms, seeing the various scrapes and scratches on his arms.
“I assume these are from the incident outside the fence?” Herschel asked, grabbing a cleaning wipe and starting to carefully wipe at Vance’s arms. “These ones that are bleeding, they aren’t from the walkers, are they?”
Without even thinking, Vance shook his head. ‘Lie,’ he thought. “No. I scratched myself on some stuff on the floor. The fence and some broken bottles I think.”
Herschel nodded. “Good. That jacket of yours seemed to protect you from most of the damage. Doesn’t look to fit you though. Whose is it?”
“My brother’s.” Vance answered. He looked past Herschel, wanting to listen to Michonne and the man’s conversation.
“My name is Rick. That there is our doctor Herschel.” Rick said. “The boy's name is Vance, from what I gather. What’s yours?”
“Michonne.”
“Michonne.” Rick nodded. “Is the boy yours, Michonne?”
“The boy travels with me, but he is not mine.”
“Mm. How did you find us?”
“We overheard two of your group talking about this place. Right before they were taken.”
Rick immediately stepped closer, as if he hadn’t heard her right. “Glenn and Maggie were taken? By who?”
“A man by the name of Merle. He’s the right hand man of someone who calls himself the Governor. A real charmer. Sent Merle after us when we wouldn’t agree to join his little town.”
“Merle? Merle’s alive?” Rick reached up to rub his face. “Alright first things first, this Governor guy. Where did he take them?”
“Woodsbury. A town of about seventy-five people who’ve fallen for his bag of tricks.” She let the information sink in for a few moments before continuing. “I can take you there.”
“What’s in it for you?”
“The governor has someone important to me there. I need to save her.”
Rick seemed to take this as a sufficient enough answer. “Alright. But you won’t be coming into the prison with us. You’ll take us there, and stay behind. You’re too injured to be moving around.”
“I’m coming with you.” Michonne said firmly.
“You’ll risk leaving the boy alone?” Rick asked, crossing his arms.
“You’re risking yours.” Michonne countered.
They stared at each other for a few moments before a different man rushed into the room. Long messy hair and a biker vest. He kinda reminded Vance of Murdoc from Gorrilaz. His brother’s favorite band. “Carol– I found her. She’s alive.”
Rick turned so fast he nearly snapped his neck. “What?”
“She’s alive. Come on,” Without waiting for Rick, the man took off back to wherever Carol was. Rick turned back to Michonne, hesitating for a few seconds. “Get your things together. We leave after this is sorted out.”
Rick left to follow the man, taking Herschel with him. Once they were gone, Michonne got to gathering up her things. Vance got up, moving to grab his things as well when she stopped him. “You’re not coming with us.” She said, grabbing his bag from his hand and setting it down on the floor.
“What? You’re still injured, I can’t let you go alone.” Vance said, reaching for his bag again.
Michonne grabbed both his hands, leading him over to sit down on the bench with her. “What we’re going to do is very dangerous. And I can’t have you risking your life.”
“But we’ve done dangerous things before. And we got through it. You and me. And then you, me, and Andrea.” Vance protested.
“I didn’t have a choice then. But I do now.” Michonne let go of his hands to brush his hair back from his forehead, leaning forward to press a kiss to his temple. “I’ll be okay. But I have a score to settle, and a friend to save.”
“So I just… wait for you to come back?” Vance asked.
“How about you try and make a new friend in the meantime?” Michonne suggested.
“You want me to make friends while you go risk your life to kill that Governor guy?” Vance asked incredulously.
“Well you could work on those textbooks of yours.” At the sight of Vance’s distasteful expression, she smiled. “That’s what I thought.” She stood up, grabbing her back and slinging it over her shoulder.
“Michonne.” Vance called, standing up. He paused, thinking carefully over his next words. He couldn’t bring himself to say the words he wanted to, so instead he settled for, “Come back, okay?”
“I will do everything in my power to come back.” She promised.
“Okay, but you’d better.” Vance warned. “Cause if you don’t I’ll… I’lll… eat your granola bars.” He said, stomping his foot on the ground to emphasize his point.
Michonne chuckled. “Then I guess I’ll have to make it back before then, now won’t I?” With that, she walked out of the cell, leaving Vance behind.
Vance watched her go, staying in the cell for a few moments. Michonne had told him to make friends. The only kid he’d seen here was the boy from earlier, so it was likely that Michonne was referring to him. With nothing else to do, Vance tucked his backpack underneath the bench and made his way outside the cell. He didn’t exactly know the place, and the cracking paint on the walls telling him what room he was in didn’t help him all too much. Vance continued wandering down the dark hallways, growing nervous with each step he took. He could hear groaning up ahead, indicating that there was a walker inside here. Vance walked deeper and deeper into the prison, finding the walker stuck inside a room. The door was stopped from opening fully by a collapsed piece of the concrete ceiling.
Vance tilted his head, cautiously approaching the walker. “Stuck, buddy?” He asked. The sound alerted the walker, and he looked around before going back to struggling against the door. Vance was used to that kind of treatment. At least from the walkers, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with. Vance snapped his fingers, catching the walker’s attention again.
“Hey! What are you doing?”
Vance turned to see the boy from earlier. Carl, if he remembered correctly. Sometimes Vance was bad with names, but he had only learned a few people's names today. Rick, Herschel, Carol, and Carl. Vance glanced back at the walker and realized that it might look a little strange for him to just be standing there snapping his fingers at it. “I found him stuck here. I was going to kill him before he could get free and cause problems.” he said, lifting his knife up from his pants pocket as if that was his intention the entire time.
Carl only stared at him. “Do it then.” He said, as if challenging Vance.
Vance flipped open his switchblade and stabbed it into the walker’s head without hesitation. He pulled it out, stepping back at its body collapsed onto the ground. Vance turned back to Carl, wiping the blade on his pants. “Satisfied?” He asked.
Carl didn’t respond. Not wanting to fail Michonne, Vance tried to be a little nicer. “You helped earlier, when the walkers were swarming me and my friend. I didn’t get to thank you.”
“You guys were in trouble.” Carl said, as if what he did was just a small act of kindness. He walked over to Vance, a little more at ease with Vance’s display. “Your name was…?”
“Oh, I’m Vance.” Vance held out his hand to Carl. Carl reached out to shake it, only to pause when he realized that Vance held out his left hand instead of his right. “Oh, uh. Sorry.” Vance said, switching to his right hand to shake Carl’s hand. “It’s uhm. Nice to meet another kid. Usually it’s just these guys now,” Vance changed the subject, gesturing to the walker laying on the ground. “They don’t make for good company.”
“Yeah. They’re dead.” Carl said flatly. He let go of Vance’s hand. “Are you exploring?”
Vance nodded. “I wanted to see how big this place was.”
“You can walk with me.” Carl offered. “I’m clearing out the other rooms.”
“All by yourself?”
“No one else is doing it.” Carl shrugged.
Vance looked down at the switch blade that was a little big in his hands, as well as the one gun in the holster he had to duct tape so it’d fit him. “I only have a knife and this gun with three bullets.” He said, having left his bow and arrow behind in the cell with his backpack.
“That’s okay. Guns are a bad idea in here, it’ll make these guys come over. They like following loud noises.”
Vance nodded, knowing that fact first hand. “I’ll help you.”
“Good. But don’t drag me down.”
They walked in silence for a while, killing two more walkers they found along the way as they explored the other rooms. Carl kept sneaking glances at Vance before finally saying what had been on his mind. “When the walkers swarmed you and Michonne, they didn’t bite you. Why is that?” Carl asked.
Vance was surprised at how closely Carl had been watching what was going on. His mind raced to find a plausible excuse, not wanting to get caught so early on. “Well uhm. Michonne had these walker guts on her, and it spilled on me too. Apparently the smell made them think that we were one of them.”
Carl glanced up and down at Vance. “You don’t smell like a walker.”
“Uh, thanks? It’s worn off now, so the only thing that’s on my jacket are the scratches from the walkers at the fence.” Vance said, showing Carl the track marks in his leader jacket. “None of them went through, so I'm pretty happy about that.”
“I would be too.” Carl said. He glanced at Vance’s sleeves again before continuing to walk. “How long have you and Michonne been traveling together?”
“Two years now I think. I don’t remember the exact day we met. But I know I was turning ten then. I’m twelve now.”
“I can do simple math.” Carl muttered.
Vance frowned. “I didn’t say that you couldn’t.”
“Yeah but you spelled it out for me like I wouldn’t know what ten plus two was.”
“I was just saying how old I was now.” Vance said, crossing his arms.
“Whatever.” Carl brushed him off, opening a door before stopping in his tracks. “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah.” Carl muttered. He pushed the door open all the way, grabbing a nearby piece of broken rebar and propping it open. “Let’s go.” He said, hurrying down the hallway.
Vance followed him, flicking his knife out and tightening his grip on its handle. They walked down the hallway, with the hairs on the back of Vance’s neck standing up the closer they got. They turned a corner and Vance grabbed Carl, yanking him out of the way of a walker that had been lurking in the dark. Vance lunged forward and stabbed it, kicking it down onto the ground. He turned back to Carl to check on him when he saw a gun drawn on him. Carl fired and Vance flinched, feeling the bullet whizz past his ear. A loud thump hit the floor behind him and Vance turned to see a walker that had managed to sneak up on him.
Vance turned back to Carl, chest heaving with heavy and fast breaths after the sequence of events that just happened in mere seconds.
“You okay?” Carl asked, walking over and checking to see if there were any more walkers in the hallway.
Vance nodded, reaching up to rub his ear. “I’m fine.”
Their attention was grabbed by another scream and they both started running down the hallway again. Carl grabbed the door, swinging it open. Vance rushed in, finding a group of people fighting off a group of walkers. Without thinking, he hurried into the fray, Carl firing off shots at the walkers behind him. Vance pulled a walker off a girl with a shovel, pulling her back and grabbing the walker’s shirt, stabbing it in the head. He turned and looked around, seeing the rest of the walkers hitting the ground, but more were coming from some unseen entrance.
“Come on, let’s go!” Carl exclaimed, holding the door open for them. Vance stayed behind the ground, pushing one of the walkers to the ground to trip up the others before rushing to keep up. He made it through the door that Carl propped open earlier with a rebar. Carl grabbed the rebar, slamming the door shut and shoving the rebar through the door handle to barricade it.
Carl and Vance shared a look, breathing heavily. Carl gave Vance a once over to check for injuries before moving on. “Follow me.” He said to the new group, leading them towards a large empty room in the prison. Some other common room there in the large building.
Vance follows, limbs still feeling a little jittery after the adrenaline rush. Something else was bothering him though. He turned around to the hallway, expecting to see a walker for some reason. When athere wasn’t one, Vance turned to the ground, trying to figure out the reason for this weird feeling. His eyes trailed over to one of the women in the group, the one leaning heavily on another man. Something about her was off. What was it…
“She’s bit.” Vance realized, pointing to her.
Carl immediately turned to the girl. “You’ve been bit?”
The woman hesitated for a few moments before nodding. She let go of her arm, revealing the bite. “Just before we got here, I was bit.” She answered.
“You need to put her down.” Carl said, sounding a little distant.
“No.” One of the other men stepped forward. “We take care of our own. And we’re not going to put her down.”
“You have to.” Carl said adamantly. “She’s going to turn. If you want to come join us in the prison, then you have to put her down.”
Vance swallowed nervously. “Carl, this is a hard decision for them. Maybe we shouldn’t be so harsh to them.” He started. His words fell on deaf ears as Carl instead grabbed Vance’s arm, dragging him out of the room and locking the others in the room.
“Wha– hey!” One of the other girls exclaimed. “You can’t just lock us in here!”
“Sasha,” The man from earlier stopped her, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We’re in a better place than before. Let’s take advantage of this, alright?”
Sasha turned to Carl, giving him a mean look before reluctantly standing down. Carl started walking off, and Vance quickly followed him.
“You’re going to leave them in the room with someone who’s going to turn?” Vance asked, glancing back at the group as they walked off.
“If they’re smart they’ll put her down.” Carl said, walking a little faster as if he was trying to lose Vance. Vance sped up as well, not letting him get away.
“Carl, that's probably someone they really love and care for. It’s not easy for them to make that decision.” Vance tried, wanting Carl to try and see things from their point of view.
“Well they’re going to have to.” Carl snapped, stopping and turning to face Vance.
“Why are you being so mean?” Vance asked Carl, feeling like he was missing something very important.
“Because being nice is going to get you killed. You need to stop acting like a little kid and grow up.” Carl said before storming off.
This time, Vance didn’t follow him.Vance clenched his fist, pissed off. “I’m twelve! I- I can still be a kid even with everything going on.” Vance exclaimed, but Carl didn’t stop walking. Vance wrung his fingers together. He could still be a kid in the apocalypse, right? Michonne said that he could. He just had to be aware of the dangers and be able to keep himself safe. But she never stopped him from being nice to people. Feeling conflicted, Vance decided to distract himself by going back to Sasha and her group and helping.
Vance went back to the main room, finding Hershel and bringing him back over to them to try and apologize for not speaking up when Carl told them to put the girl down. Herschel unlocked the door, and Vance stepped inside, holding a bag with Hershel’s medical supplies. He glanced between Sasha and her group, unsure of what to say. “Uhm. I’m sorry about what Carl said earlier.” Vance apologized. “It was a really mean thing to say.”
The man glanced at his group, looking at Sasha. She stayed quiet, so the man spoke for them. “It’s alright. We won't take it personally.”
Vance nodded. “Good. Uhm. This is Hershel, he’s a really good doctor. He helped save my friend, so if you guys are hurt he can help you too.” Vance glanced back at Hershel to make sure he had that right. Herschel nodded and used his crutches to approach the group.
“Who’s first?” He asked, taking a seat at the table.
The group glanced at each other before one of them raised a hand. Vance watched as Hershel patched everyone up. It took him a minute to learn their names, as they were a little hesitant to talk to them. Tyreese was like the leader of the group. At least, Vance assumed he was because he spoke for them. But Sasha was like his right hand man. Or– woman. She was his sister, and they seemed really close. Vance couldn’t help but think of his brother and how he used to have to ask his brother to order for him when they went out to eat. He tried to shake off the thought, not wanting to make himself upset again.
“I don’t mean to be the bearer of bad news,” Herschel said as he finished patching up the group. “But the folks here don’t take too kindly to newcomers. I’m afraid that it’s in your best interests not to get too comfortable.”
Vance cleaned up the area, putting the medical supplies back into the bag. He lingered for a few seconds, turning back to Tyreese. “Uhm. Me and my friend are going to leave in a few days when she’s better. Maybe you guys can travel with us?” He offered. “She also doesn’t like new people but you guys are pretty cool so, I think she’ll be fine with a few new friends.”
Tyreese gave him a smile. “We appreciate the offer, little guy. If this doesn’t work out, then we’ll talk to your friend about joining you.”
Vance smiled back. “Great! I’ll see you guys later then.” He said before quickly following Herschel back to the main room.
Herschel looked down at Vance. “You seem to make friends pretty easily.” He commented as they walked.
“Michonne said that’s one of my best qualities.” Vance replied. His face slowly fell when he was reminded of Carl’s words about how being too nice was going to get him killed. “I guess that’s not a super good thing to be now though.”
“Why not?” Herschel asked him.
“Cause it could get me killed, y’know? Like, what if I trust the wrong person? And they decide to betray me?”
“Then that’s not your fault at all. That’s the other person's fault for betraying your trust.” Herschel answered. “If we go around being distrusting of everyone we meet, then we’d be some very lonely people. Traveling by ourselves and being constantly paranoid.”
Vance nodded slowly, understanding the validity of Herschel's words. “So maybe I don’t be super paranoid, but I also don’t trust everybody?”
“That seems like a fine solution to this problem.”
“But how am I gonna do that?’ Vance complained. “Is there some kind of trick or something so I can see who I should trust?”
“No trick.” Herschel answered. “You’ll just have to rely on how good a judge of character you are.”
“Judge of character?”
“When you meet people, you have to be a good observer. What they tell you, their body language, and what they do so that you can find out what kind of person you are.” He stopped at the door to the common area, waiting for Vance to open it before walking through. “What did you think of Tyreese’s group?”
Vance hummed. “Well, Sasha is really cautious? I think that’s the right word. And that’s good, cause it means that she’s careful. Tyreese is more trusting of people, so he’s like the opposite of Sasha.”
“They can balance each other out.” Herschel nodded. “And the others?”
“Well, Allen was pretty upset because Donna was bit. So I figured that he must’ve really cared for her.” Vance looked up at him. “And Ben didn’t talk too much. But I think he was upset too.”
“See? It’s not as hard as you think.” Herschel said.
Vance looked up, spotting a girl holding a baby sitting down at a table. Herschel followed his gaze and chuckled. “My youngest daughter, Beth. She’s a good kid. You should talk to her. Maybe she can help you a little more than this old man can.” Herschel reached over to take the bag from Vance. “Go on, I can put all this away.”
Vance reluctantly left Herschel's side, walking over to Beth. “Hi.” He said, waving awkwardly.
Beth looked up, giving him a friendly smile. “Hello. You’re that boy that came in with the woman from earlier, right?”
Vance nodded. “I’m Vance. You are… Beth, right?”
Beth “Yup. So, Vance. How do you like it here so far? I know this place can be a little scary at first.”
“No, it’s not scary. Just big.” Vance said, trying to downplay the fact that he was a little nervous to be in the place, especially with the walker scare from earlier.
“Sure.” Beth chuckled, as if she’d seen right through him. “You look a little tired. Want me to show you to a bed?”
Vance wanted to deny the offer so he could get to know her a little better, but he realized then that he was really tired. Leaving Woodsbury and then traveling through the forest with an injured Michonne, and then arriving at the prison, he hadn’t slept in a long time. Instead he found himself nodding. “Yes please."
Beth got up, adjusting her hold on the baby in her arms before leading him up to one of the cells upstairs. Vance looked around the cold cell room. It wasn’t like the room back in Woodsbury, but it had a bed and everything. Vance turned back to Beth. “I uhm, left my things downstairs in the cell. Can I go get them first?”
“Of course. Want me to walk with you?”
“No, I’ve got it.” Vance said, heading out of the room. He grabbed his things from the cell downstairs and brought it back up to the room. Beth had gone back downstairs, having been called away by Herschel. Vance set his bag down, reaching in and grabbing his science textbook. As much as he complained, he thought it was a little interesting. Right now he was on the chapter about grav-i-ta-tion-al force and mass. The chapter was a little long, but it wasn’t a problem as it ended up lulling him to sleep.
Michonne and the team returned later on, but she didn’t wake him. Instead she sat by him, gently brushing her fingers through his hair while he slept. Vance didn’t wake up until there was shouting from outside the cell. He looked up at Michonne, but she was still staring outside the room. She walked out to the railing, Vance following close behind. Their cell was the very corner by the steps, allowing Vance to have a perfect view of what was going on without being seen by the others.
Tyreese and his group were standing with the others. Rick was… pacing around with his gun. He seemed to be in a lot of distress, yelling at them about how he couldn’t help them, and that they needed to leave. The harsh treatment Rick was showing Tyreese and his group made Vance falter. Would Rick have told them the same thing if they had asked to stay there with them? He reached out and grabbed Michonne’s hand. Her attention immediately switched from Rick to Vance, and she took his hand and led him back into the cell.
She ushered him into bed, pulling the small blanket up over his shoulders. Vance could hear the others talking, trying to calm Rick down. Michonne seemed to hear this as well, as picked up the textbook and started to read to him to try and distract him from what was going on outside.
“Everyday you experience several different kinds of forces. A few examples of these forces at work can be found in everyday actions like pushing a book across the desk or pulling something in a wagon. In this lesson you’ll learn how to identify each kind of force and what causes them to occur.”
The next day, Michonne took Vance outside the prison for a walk. Not a very long walk, as she was still injured and could only go so far, but enough that they could get some fresh air. It was nice and cloudy out. Vance usually took that as it would be a good day, because the clouds always carried a nice breeze with them and he wasn’t melting in the heat. They didn’t talk too much, just walking around the prison and seeing everything that Rick’s group had been working towards. Vance felt a little sad that they wouldn’t be there when the plants bloomed or when everything was completed, but he knew it was for the best. This group had established themselves already, and it wasn’t fair if Michonne and him asked to join them when things were already close to being finished. That was like when he had a project in science, and one of his group mates didn’t do any work at all, and then still asked for their name to be put on it! It wasn’t fair because Vance had done his best to contribute, even though he wasn’t too good at science stuff.
They came back inside for lunch. Vance was enjoying his frosted flakes while Michonne checked on their weapons. She rewrapped a few of Vance’s arrows, setting them back in his quiver when she was done checking them. Vance finished his cereal, moving to put it away. When he got back to the table, he saw his science textbook waiting for him. Vance groaned. “But I finished a whole chapter yesterday!”
“And you’ll finish a new one today.” Michonne said, not looking up from her work on his arrows. She set one aside, having found a large crack in it, which rendered it useless.
Vance sat down at the table, opening the textbook up to the next chapter. “In history people have always had a fas… fasck? Fas…”
“You’ve got it. One syllable at a time.”
“Fasc-i-na-tion.” Vance said slowly. He sighed and set the book down. “I know that word. I don’t know why it was so hard to sound it out.”
“Because you haven’t practiced this skill in a while. Once you start reading again, you’ll get better at being able to sound out words. Soon enough, you won’t have to.” Michonne reassured him.
Feeling a little better, Vance picked up the book again. “In history, people have always had a fasci-nation with animals. Animals can be found in almost every corner of the world. But not every animal can be found in different places. Many animals have ad-ap-ta-tions that allow them to survive in a specific en-vi-rion-ment. Humans are the one of the only species that can be found in every corner of the earth, except for under water.”
Footsteps sounded, and Michonne and Vance looked up to see Rick and Glenn carrying Merle inside. Michonne immediately stood up and grabbed her sword from the table. “What is he doing here?” She demanded, moving in front of Vance.
“Daryl brought him.” Rick answered, bringing Merle past them and into one of the cells.
“Yeah, I did. And be careful with him dammit.” Daryl said, following behind the three men.
“Yeah Sheriff Do-Good, be gentle with me. I’m damaged goods.” Merle grinned, waving his arm around. He looked down and spotted Vance behind Michonne. “Hey kiddo. Nice to see you made it out.”
Vance only glared at him, not saying a word to the man who had shot Michonne.
“Right, right. I guess I deserve that.” Merle said, moving to lean against the bars. He looked up at Rick. “So what’s my sentence, jailor?” He asked. “Don’t tell me you’re going to take my other hand. Shaving is already hard enough.” He snickered.
Rick ignored him, turning to Daryl. “We can’t keep him here.” He started.
“Yeah, I agree.” Glenn spoke up. “We should just hand him over to the Governor.”
“He’s my brother. I’m not giving him to that damn psychopath.” Daryl argued.
“Well he’s not welcome here.” Glenn replied, crossing his arms. “Not after what he did. He’s a liability, and he’s only going to cause more problems the longer he’s here.”
“Hey I don’t have to take this from you.” Daryl scoffed, storming off. “Screw you guys.” He said as he left the common area.
“Well, that wasn’t too pretty to see.” Merle commented. “You guys made my little brother upset.”
Glenn turned to Merle and then back to Rick. “Can we talk? Away from him?”
Rick nodded, and both men left the area.
Michonne slowly sat back down, surprising Vance that she’d want to be in the same room as Merle, but he realized that she was likely just keeping an eye on him so he didn’t try anything when no one was around. Vance sat down as well.
“Keep reading.” Michonne advised Vance, setting her sword back down on the table and going back to fixing up his arrows.
“Oh we’re reading now? What are we reading?” Merle called over.
Vance ignored him, picking up the book and reading out loud again. “The large va-ri-e-ty of animal life demonstrates the power of e-vo-lu-tion. The envi-ron-ments that the animals came from shaped their evo-lu-tion as time went on. Just how many different ways are there for animals to catch food, survive in different kinds of weather, and to reproduce?”
“Hey, think you could read that a little louder?” Merle called. “I skipped school the day we covered that lesson. Maybe I could learn a thing or two.”
Vance looked up at Michonne, who gave him a nod. Vance reluctantly started reading louder. “In order to study o- or- or-ga-ni-sm’s, scientists must first ob-serve their character-istics. They group org–a-nisms by the kinds of character-istics that they share with each other.”
“You know what an organism is, kid?”
Vance paused, glancing over to the definition on the side. “Any in-di-vi-dual living thing that functions as a single unit, capable of growing, reproducing, maintaining… ho-me-o-stasis and responding to stim-u-li.”
“Think you can name a few for me? Just to make sure I’m getting this right.”
“Uhm.” Vance thought for a few seconds. “Plants and animals are organisms.”
“And what about us?”
“People are organisms too.”
“Well, ain’t that mighty interesting. What else does that book of yours say?”
Vance continued to read the book out loud, finding himself becoming a little more comfortable reading out loud to people. Normally reading in front of other people in class made him stumble over words he usually knew out to say. But Michonne and Merle weren’t like the other kids in class who used to laugh at him when he messed up. Merle seemed fairly interested, asking Vance to define some words for him and give him examples. Vance was starting to get the feeling that Merle was only asking to be friendly, but he couldn’t prove it.
Vance was answering his latest question when gunfire erupted outside. Michonne grabbed Vance and pulled him under the table. “Stay here.” She said, getting up and grabbing her sword, sheathing it and grabbing a gun off the table as well. She hurried off, disappearing into the hallway.
“Vance! Kid, look you’ve gotta let me out.” Merle called. “I’m a sitting duck in here and so are you!”
“I can’t let you out.” Vance whispered. “They’ll get mad at me.”
Merle groaned. “Fine- fine. But when shit goes down and it reaches here, you let me out and we run. Got it?”
“How can I trust you?” Vance whispered back.
“Cause I don’t want a dead kid on my conscience, okay?”
A loud screech from outside interrupted them. The Governor's voice echoed in the area, amplified by some kind of speaker that managed to reach the inside of the prison. “Evening, friends. I realize that before we go into a full blown war, we should discuss alternative options. Before we have to destroy this little prison of yours and kill everyone inside that is.” The Governor cleared his throat before continuing. “Now before we leave here today we’re going to have to do a little damage to this nice home of yours, an eye for an eye, you see. But my offer goes as follows. You hand over Michonne and Vance, and I’m going to consider it even between us. That’s it. Give me those two, and this stops. Take the rest of today and tomorrow to think about it.” He said.
Vance brought his hand up to his mouth to muffle the quiet gasp that left his lips. Vance clasped both hands over his mouth, trying to remain as still as possible. He could hear the Governor still continuing to speak outside, but he wasn’t able to focus on what he was saying. Rapid footsteps sounded from the hallway and Vance turned to see a familiar pair of boots rushing over to him.
“Get your things.” Michonne said, kneeling down to make sure he was still there. “We’re leaving, now.”
Vance was grateful that he hadn’t taken anything other than his textbook out of his bag. He climbed out from under the table and grabbed his textbook. He tossed it in his backpack and pulled it on, grabbing his bow and slinging it on. Michonne walked out with her backpack on, and Vance was hot on her heels.
They nearly made it out before Rick entered through the hallway.Vance stopped, moving to hide himself behind Michonne.
“Leaving?” Rick asked.
Michonne curtly nodded. “You heard what he wants.” She answered.
“You’d give yourselves up for us?” Rick asked, suspicious.
Michonne remained silent, and that was enough for Rick to know that she didn’t intend to do that. Rick sighed and stepped away from the door. “Before you go, I’d like to talk to you about something.” He gave a glanced toVance. “Alone, if you don’t mind.”
Vance looked at Rick warily before looking up at Michonne. She gave him a curt nod, and he let out a sigh. He reluctantly walked back over to the table where he and Michonne were sitting. This didn’t feel right. The Governor demands him and Michonne and then all of a sudden Rick wants to talk to Michonne?
It felt like too much was happening too fast for him to think. Vance rested his head on his book.
“Vance.” Merle called. “You gonna finish reading that chapter for me?”
Vance lifted his head off the book and looked over at Michonne, Andrea, and Rick who were having their conversation there by the door. He picked up his book and moved over to sit in front of Merle’s cell. It would be a nice distraction from the confusing series of events. Merle moved to sit down as well, taking a glance over at the book.
“Sixth grade science.” He read out loud. “Say, you would’ve been in what? Third or fourth grade when this all happened?”
‘I was in fourth grade.” Vance answered. “I skipped a grade cause my dad thought that I didn’t need to go to Pre-K.”
“Skipped a grade huh? You must’ve been the youngest one in your class.”
Vance nodded. “The other kids picked on me a lot cause I was shorter than them.”
“Kids can be harsh.” Merle muttered. “But I bet you’re taller than a lot of them now huh? You’re nearing a growth spurt.”
Vance leaned against the bars. “Maybe. Michonne says that I need a lot of nutrients to grow, but we’ve kinda been struggling to find food lately. Woodsbury was the first actual meal we all had in a while.”
Merle looked away. “Right… well uh, I’m glad we were able to give you that. Even if we did try and keep you there.”
Vance shrugged. “I mean it wasn’t all bad. Woodsbury was a good place. Just the Governor is a–” Vance glanced over at Michonne. She was out of earshot, but Vance didn’t want to risk it. He turned back to Merle and lowered his voice. “He’s kind of an a-hole.” He whispered.
Merle chuckled. “Yeah, you’ve got that right.” He leaned his head back against the bars. “See I thought he was a good guy. Turns out he was just your usual charismatic suit and tie freak.”
“What’s car-is-matic?”
“Charismatic? Uh… means that he’s a real charmer. Convinces you to do stuff you don’t really want to do.”
“So since he’s a bad guy, that means being charismatic is bad?” Vance asked.
“Not all the time. Sometimes people are scared to do the right thing… and they need a little push in the right direction.”
Vance crossed his arms. “I don’t want to trick people to convince them. I’d rather just tell them the truth! If that doesn’t convince them then… they’re just not worth it.” He said stubbornly.
Merle chuckled. “Man, you sound just like my brother back when we were younger.”
“Who? Daryl?”
“Yup.” Merle grinned. “You’ve even got that little look of his when he gets mad. Down to that pout and everything.”
Vance huffed and looked away. “I do not pout.”
“You do too.”
“Do not!” A two note whistle made Vance stop. “I gotta go.” Vance said, picking up his book and backpack. He gave a glance at Merle. “I’ll see you later. Maybe.”
“Not if I see you first, kid.” Merle called as he left.
Vance hurried over to Michonne’s side, following her and Rick as they left. “Where are we going?” He asked, watching as Andrea walked off to go embrace one of the other women there. Carol, if he recalled correctly. See? He wasn’t that bad with names. It just took him a few tries to get it right.
“For a ride.” Rick said, not slowing down as he walked. Vance snuck a glance at Michonne. She didn’t seem too worried, so that must mean he had no reason to worry either, right?
Rick led them to a car, calling Carl over as they neared it. Carl was carrying a few empty bags, and he loaded them into the trunk. Michonne sat in the passenger seat, leaving Carl and Vance to sit together in the back. Vance leaned against the door, still not too fond of Carl after their last conversation ended so sourly.
Rick started the engine, driving out of the prison and getting towards the main road. The drive was silent for a while, leaving them in an awkward tension until Rick spoke. “We don’t give up our own.” He said. “You guys might not be our own, but we’re not about to trade you away either. So help us find some guns, so we can protect ourselves when the Governor comes. And we’ll drop you two off away from here so you can get away from all this.”
Vance glanced at Michonne. She was silent, so Vance spoke up. “Thank you, Mr. Rick.”
Rick glanced at him in the rearview mirror. “...it’s no problem.” He said before looking away.
Vance drummed his fingers on his knees, staring out the window. The drive was fairly smooth until they reached a wreck that covered the road. Rick tried to drive around the wreck, but the sides of the road were covered in mud. He let out a sigh, opening the door. “Carl. Come help me push the car.”
Carl followed Rick out of the car, and Michonne took Rick’s place in the driver’s seat. She looked back at Vance through the rearview mirror. “You look nervous.” She commented.
Vance met her gaze. “Do you think they’re actually going to let us go?”
Michonne’s eyes drifted over to Carl and Rick behind the car. “He wouldn’t have brought his son if he was going to give us over to the Governor.”
“I guess.” Vance watched Carl bring an armful of sticks over to the car. “What do you think of them?”
“I do not know the boy. But Rick is… an interesting character.” She paused and looked back at him. “What do you think of them?”
“Well first off I think Carl is a jerk.” Vance crossed his arms. “He said that I was childish and it was going to get me killed.”
“That’s not a very nice thing to say.”
“That’s what I said!” Vance leaned back.
A knock on the window made Vance jump. Rick made some kind of twisting motion with his hand, and Michonne nodded. She started driving, and this time the car moved off the road. She drove around the blockade, stopping once the car was back on the road. She stayed in the driver's seat however, letting Rick climb into the passenger seat.
When Carl climbed back into the car, Vance immediately had to turn away so he didn’t break out into laughter.
“Shut up.” Carl said firmly.
“I didn’t say anything.” Vance said, voice shaking with barely controlled laughter.
“You’re literally shaking.”
“That doesn’t count as talking.” Vance pointed out. He made the mistake of looking at Carl again, because the sight of the boy with mud covering his front made Vance break out into laughter. Vance held his stomach, trying his best to stop laughing.
“It’s not funny!”
“It is so! You look like a worm.”
Carl reached over and wiped some of the mud on Vance’s shirt. Vance let out a gasp. “Hey! This is my favorite shirt!”
“Oops.” Carl said, sporting a smirk.
Vance grumbled and lunged at Carl, smearing the mud on his shirt.
“Hey! Get off!”
“Apolgoize for ruining my shirt!”
“It was ruined to begin with!”
“It was not!”
“It was too!”
After being forced apart and both covered in mud, they finally pulled into a quiet, deserted town. At least, on the surface it was. Vance could see all the strange wires and weird contraptions laying around.
“We should go to the police station first.” Rick said, climbing out of the car. “I left a few guns here last time. There’s a good chance that–”
A gunshot made everyone duck. Michonne grabbed Vance and they both ran to the other side of the car for cover. Vance ducked down.
“Where’s it coming from?” Rick asked, moving towards the front of the car.
Michonne looked around, spotting a reflection in the window of a nearby shop. “I see someone moving on a rooftop. Red building on the right.”
“Is it just the one?”
“You can stick your head out and check.”
Rick carefully peeked over the car, ducking down just in time as another bullet whizzed past him. He pulled out his gun, peeking up and firing back once, ducking back down again.
“Drop your guns!” The man on the roof yelled.
“No chance!” Rick called back, shooting back twice before running out from behind the car to one of the other abandoned cars. Michonne took advantage of the distraction, running to hide behind a large garbage can with spikes. She turned to Vance, motioning for him to stay put. Vance nodded and grabbed his bow from his back, grabbing an arrow and moving towards the back of the truck. Carl followed him, staying low as Rick fired back at the man.
“What are you going to do?” Carl whispered.
Vance moved towards the trunk of the car, slowly getting up. “Going to try and force him down here.” He muttered, looking around the roof’s edge. He spotted a bunch of machinery there. Maybe… Vance notched an arrow, taking aim. He let it go, and the arrow flew into whatever kind of machine was up there, causing it to spark and smoke. The man on the roof turned, distracted, and Rick managed to nick him in the shoulder.
Vance ducked back behind the car, moving over to Carl. “I think he’s going to come down here.”
“So what do we do?”
“Uh. Mostly stay out of the way and be back up.”
“Seriously? Backup?”
“Well that’s what Michonne and I usually do.” Vance shrugged. He glanced at the building. “He might go out through the back. So maybe we can surprise him.” He suggested.
Carl peeked out from behind the car. “You hide behind that red car over there. I’ll go hide in the front of that building.”
“Okay.” Vance nodded. He examined the area one last time before moving out from behind the car towards the red truck, crouching behind the tires. Vance grabbed another arrow, moving towards the front of the truck and getting ready to intercept the man. He spotted Carl in the apartment ahead, checking for the man. Vance saw a movement behind Carl and saw the man starting to sneak up on him.
Moving quickly, Vance stood and nocked an arrow, firing it. It hit the man in the shoulder in the space between his armor, and the man cried out, alerting Carl. Carl spun around and fired off a shot, hitting the man in the helmet. While it didn’t go through all the way, it seemed to cause enough of an impact to cause him to fall to the ground.
Vance hurried over, looking Carl up and down. “Are you okay?” He asked, holding out a hand to help Carl up.
Carl took Vance’s hand and used it to pull himself up. “I think so.”
Vance let go of Carl’s hand, moving to clip his bow onto his back. “That makes us even, y’know.”
“What?”
“You saved my life outside the prison fence. And I saved your life here.” Vance explained.
“I also saved you inside the prison.” Carl pointed out.
“Oh.” Vance reached up to scratch his head. “Yeah, but I saved you from the first walker. So doesn’t that make us even?”
Michonne and Rick arrived at that moment, looking between the two.
“What happened? Is everyone okay?” Rick asked.
Vance pointed to the guy on the floor. “Yeah. We got him.”
Rick moved forward, and Vance stepped aside, moving over to Michonne who immediately started checking Vance for injuries. “You weren’t hit anywhere?” She asked, checking his arms and face.
Vance shook his head. “Nope. I’m okay.”
A quiet ‘oh god’ from Rick made Vance turn around. Rick had taken off the helmet of the unconscious man. Vance didn’t recognize him, but based on Rick’s reaction he assumed the other man did. “Michonne, help me carry him.” Rick said, grabbing the man from underneath the arms and starting to haul him up. Michonne moved over, grabbing the man’s legs and starting to help Rick carry him further into the building.
Vance couldn’t help but notice how well trapped the apartment was. Wire traps and carefully placed objects meant to trip up any unwelcome intruders. They managed to make it into a room, laying him down on a cot. Vance looked around, seeing supplies and a lot of guns. His eyes were drawn to a chalkboard with writing that looked like it was done by a madman. In very large letters he read, ‘DUANE TURNED.’ Vance didn’t know who Duane was, but he must’ve been really important to the man.
“I’m going to stay until he wakes up.” Rick informed the others. “You all can explore the place in the meantime. Find more guns if you can.”
Vance looked up at Michonne, who nodded. “Stay with Carl. Don’t leave the building without me.”
Vance turned to find Carl already walking off into one of the other rooms. Vance followed him, finding a large room dedicated to mapping out the area in paint. Vance followed the streets, looking at each of the buildings and what happened to them. He couldn’t help but notice that Carl’s attention was stuck on one in particular with the words ‘burnt out’ on it. Did he know the house before it burned? Was it his?
Carl must’ve noticed Vance’s staring. “I’m going to get some stuff from the store.” He muttered, starting to walk out.
“Wait, we have to tell Michonne that we’re leaving.” Vance said, following him.
“You tell her.” Carl said, not slowing down.
Vance let out a huff but left into the other room to see Michonne already walking out.
“Carl wants to get something from the store.” Vance told her.
“So I heard.” She said, walking downstairs. “What are you going to get?” Michonne asked Carl as they caught up to him.
“Crib for Judith.” He said without turning back.
Vance followed him out into the street again, looking at all the buildings. Every single step had the risk of being booby-trapped. Vance still couldn’t believe that was an actual word. He looked around for trip wires. They mostly surrounded the outside area. So once you were inside, it was like you were safe. But if you were caught outside the area or stuck inside, it was impossible to get back out. Or in. It was like once you were inside you really couldn’t leave. Vance looked up to see that Carl had picked up the pace. Vance jogged to keep up with him.
“We passed the store.” Vance said, waving his hand in front of Carl’s face to get his attention.
“I’m getting something else for Judith first.” Carl told him.
Vance blinked. “Judith. That’s the baby that Beth carries, right?”
“Judith is my little sister.”
“I was wondering about that.” Vance hummed. He looked around. “So what are you gonna get for her? Michonne and I brought a whole basket full of formula. Are you going to get her clothes?”
“Why are you so nosy?” Carl snapped. “Can’t you stay quiet for more than five minutes at a time?”
Vance frowned. “I’m trying to hold a conversation with you. Why are you so mad at me?”
“Because you’re annoying.”
“That’s it?” Vance moved to stand in front of Carl, blocking him from walking away. “Cause when we were talking to Tyreese’s group you got mad and said I was childish. And then in the car you got mad at me for laughing at you. And now you’re getting mad at me for asking questions. But it doesn’t make sense cause you’ve been angry at me since the beginning, before all that happened!”
Carl tried to side step Vance, but Vance reached out and grabbed Carl’s arm. “What the hell is your problem? Why are you so obsessed with me?” Carl exclaimed, glaring at Vance.
“I just want to know what I did wrong.” Vance pressed, wanting answers. “I don’t wanna leave with Michonne while you’re still mad at me.”
Carl only continued to glare at him. “You’re a kid.” He said, as if that explained everything.
“So are you.” Vance countered. He stared at Carl before reluctantly letting go of his arm. Vance stepped back, letting Carl walk away again. Vance followed a few steps behind. “I just want to be friends.”
“Well I don’t.”
“Can I at least know why? I’ll leave you alone if you tell me. And- and when you guys drop us off I won’t even say bye or look at you.” Vance tried again.
Carl let out a sigh and stopped in front of a bar. “I had a friend before we got to the prison, Sophia. She was kind of like you. She was really naive, and just wanted everyone to be friends. She got scared off when some walkers attacked us, and she couldn’t kill them. So she ran off. We spent a long time looking for her and when we found her, she was a walker too.”
Vance listened, not interrupting him once. When Carl finished, Vance thought over his words. “So you don’t want to be friends, cause you think I’ll end up like her?”
“No. I don’t want to be friends because I don’t want to lose someone else that I care about.”
Vance glanced down at Carl’s hand, reaching out and grabbing it like Michonne had always done for him whenever Vance was upset about something. “I can take care of myself. I can kill walkers and I know that sometimes we can’t always be friends with everyone we meet. And I know that its scary making friends because we can lose them. But I’d rather die and have friends than live a long time and be alone.” Vance tried to ignore the way his voice cracked. It always did whenever he was saying something that made his throat start to close up. Carl didn’t point it out or laugh at him. Instead, he turned away from Vance and started walking towards the door of the bar that they’d stopped in front of.
Vance rubbed his head, a little upset that Carl had ignored his pleas to be friends. “There’s walkers in there.” Vance muttered, barely audible.
“How do you know?”
“You don’t hear them growling?” Vance asked, a practiced line to cover up that weird feeling he got whenever walkers were around.
Carl looked at the door and stepped back. “I need to get in there.”
“What’s in there that you need?” Michonne asked, finally catching up with the two. She had one hand resting on the handle of her blade, eyeing the bar.
“It’s something important.” Carl said, not giving them specifics.
“And it’s in a bar?” Michonne asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes.” Carl huffed. “You can either help me or I’ll go get it myself.”
Michonne let out a sigh. “We can try and lure them away from whatever you need. Where is it?”
“It’s in the front.” Carl answered. “Just above the bar.”
Michonne turned to Vance. “Go bring the rat cages from the traps. Two or three should be enough.”
Vance nodded and hurried off without another word. He found the rats pretty easily, having seen them around the spike barrel traps. Carefully avoiding the walkers impaled on the spikes, Vance grabbed the rat cage from underneath it. The walker immediately turned, reaching for Vance as if asking him for a rat. Vance glanced at the walker, impaled on the spike and unable to walk away. He squashed down the feeling of pity for them, forcing the memories of the carnage they could do to people to the forefront of his mind. After traveling with them for so long, it was hard for him to remember that at the end of the day, these guys were dangerous and they weren’t his friend. He picked up another two cages before heading back, finding Carl and Michonne holding… skateboards?
Vance walked over, looking confused. “Are we going to teach the rats to skateboard?” He asked, setting the rat cages down on the ground.
Michonne shook her head. She set down the skateboards and grabbed a rat cage, setting it down on top. “We’re going to tie these together, and then roll them into the bar. This should distract them, and give us enough time to grab whatever it is that Carl is looking for.”
Vance nodded in understanding, kneeling down and putting a rat cage on one of the skateboards as she had. In minutes they had secured the cage to the skateboard, and were opening the front doors. Michonne allowed Vance to step inside and roll them, knowing he had the best chance to get the job done as he would go unnoticed by the walkers
Vance stepped inside and knelt down, rolling the skateboard as far as he could away from the door. Michonne slid him the second skate board, and he rolled it the same way. When he received the third one, he used it to get the lingering walker's attention and send them towards the back where the booths and knocked over chairs were.
Vance turned back to the two kneeling outside the door and nodded, letting them know it was safe to enter. Vance moved further into the building, stepping to the side to make room for Carl. Carl looked around the bar before spotting what he was looking for. He tapped Vance’s shoulder and pointed up to a series of photographs up on the bar’s top area. Vance didn’t know exactly which one he was pointing to, but he nodded. Carl led while Michonne stayed behind them, making sure the walkers were too focused on their food to notice them.
Carl slowly stood up, the floorboards creaking slightly underneath him. Vance looked around. The walkers were still busy trying to get at the rats. Vance stood up as well, moving over to help Carl up onto the bar. Carl rested a hand on Vance’s shoulder, using it to balance himself as he climbed up onto the stool, and then onto the bar. A rat suddenly ran across the bar, running over Carl’s shoes. Carl stumbled, his foot knocking into a glass on the table and sending rolling across the counter towards the edge. Vance reached out and tried to catch the glass, but only ended up pushing it forward, causing it to fall off the bar and shatter on the ground.
The walkers looked up, and Vance cursed. Michonne immediately stood and started slicing the heads off the walkers as they started to move. “Carl!” Vance hissed. Carl immediately turned and jumped up, grabbing the picture he needed off the table. The same liquid from earlier made him stumble, and Vance quickly moved forward, trying to catch him. Unfortunately because he was twelve and didn’t have the upper body strength, He and Carl ended up falling to the ground, and Carl used Vance as a cushion. Vance let out a groan, feeling as though his ribs were effectively bruised all over. Carl didn’t give him time to think, grabbing his arm and pulling him forward. “We have to go!” He exclaimed, dragging the boy behind him. He let go of Vance’s arm to grab his gun and start shooting.
The walkers started to crowd them, separating them from Michonne. She cursed, trying to get to them. “Go through the back!” She shouted over the groaning. “Don’t wait for me.”
Carl started to shoot a path for them both. Vance was doing his best to avoid the walkers hands, but it was difficult seeing as his only other weapon that wasn’t long range was a switch blade. A walker on the ground had reached out for Carl’s leg, missing and instead tripping up Vance. Vance stumbled, hitting his head on a nearby booth. The impact made his vision blur, and he suddenly felt nauseous.
“Vance!” Carl exclaimed, turning back for him. Carl grabbed Vance, pulling him to his feet. “We don’t have the time for– no!”
A walker had grabbed Vance’s bow from his back, pulling him away from Carl. Carl let go of the photograph, grabbing Vance’s arms with both hands and pulling him. Vance made what he felt was the worst decision he’d made since he tried to pick up skateboarding one day and broke his arm at the park. He grabbed Carl and shoved him out of the door, slamming it shut behind him. The force sent his already unbalanced self crashing to the ground, jostling his head. Vance let out a quiet whine, already disoriented as is. He felt the walkers climbing over him, trying to get at Carl through the door, effectively pinning it shut and preventing Carl from coming back inside, as Vance could hear him banging on the door. Vance curled up on himself, moving his arms to protect his head.
Vance peeked out, seeing his bow on the ground and the photograph next to it. He could make it out of here. Right? Crawling on the ground, he made his way over to the fallen objects. His bow was laying a few feet to his left, and the photograph on the right. Maybe it was just the fact that he’d hit his head and was getting blood in his eyes, but he found himself moving away from the bow and towards the photograph. He crawled forward, grabbing the picture and pushing himself to his feet. The walkers continued to shove up against him, still trying to get to Carl who was outside. Vance stumbled over to the front door where they’d originally entered from, finding one of the rats sitting there staring at him. Vance would’ve glared at the rat if he could. It was 100% the rats fault and not Vance’s for being unable to catch the glass.
Vance moved past the rat, opening the door and stumbling out into the front of the bar. He closed the door behind him, leaning against it and slowly sinking down to the floor. He looked up to see Michonne and Carl running from behind the bar towards him. Michonne immediately dropped to her knees in front of him, grabbing him and pulling him into a hug.
“Don’t you ever disappear like that again.” She said, hugging him tight. She pulled back, brushing his hair away from his forehead. “Are you okay? How many fingers am I holding up?”
Vance squinted at the moving fingers, unsure if they were moving because of his vision or if she was just shaky with adrenaline. “Uh. Two?”
“...good enough.” Michonne pulled him back into another hug. “You’re not bit? Scratched? Hurt anywhere else?”
“No, just my head.” Vance paused. “I uh.. Left my bow back in there.” he mumbled, looking away in shame. Michonne had gifted him that bow a long time ago and spent an even longer time trying to teach him how to use it.
“I don’t care about a damn bow.” Michonne scoffed. “I care about you.”
Vance’s lip quivered, and he bit down on it to stop it from shaking. He had to admit, he was scared. Even if he was immune, being disoriented and trampled by rotting corpses was a terrifying experience.
Michonne helped Vance up, reaching for his hand. Vance reached out, only to stop when he saw the picture in his hands. Vance turned to Carl, who looked like he was about to either shout at him or burst into tears. Vance slowly walked over, still a little unsteady, and held out the picture to him. “I told you I could handle myself.” He said, trying to give him a reassuring smile. He wasn’t sure it looked too reassuring, as he was bleeding from a gash in his forehead and looked like he’d just escaped a walker mosh pit.
Carl ignored the picture, moving forward and grabbing Vance in a hug. “You’re an idiot.” He muttered. “An annoying, stupid idiot.”
“You just called me dumb twice.”
“Shut up.”
Vance hugged Carl back. “Sorry for almost ending up like your friend.”
“Don’t do it again.” Carl muttered, pulling back. Carl took the picture from Vance, tracing it in his hands. “I… wanted a picture of my mom. So Judith would know what she looked like.”
“What happened to your mom?” Vance asked gently.
“She died when she gave birth to Judith. I had…to put her down.”
Oh. Realization dawned on Vance. That’s why he’d been so adamant about Tyreese putting Donna down. Why he’d gotten mad at Vance when he kept asking. Vance immediately felt guilty. “I’m sorry about your mom.”
“I know. It’s… fine.” Carl shook his head. “I need to keep going. Keep surviving.”
“I lost my brother when I was seven.” Vance spoke up. “I uhm… I’m still not entirely over it. Sometimes I dream that he’s still here. And sometimes I see something and I think that he’d like it. And I still get all uhm… What's that word? When you can’t say something, like it’s stuck in your throat?”
“Choked up?”
“Yeah.” Vance nodded. “I still get choked up when I try to say his name. It’s hard for me to even think about it. So…. If it’s been like- four years?”
“Five.”
“Right- right. If it’s been five years and I can’t get over it, then it’s okay if you haven’t gotten over your mom yet. That’s like, a huge thing that happened to you. And you need time to grieve.”
Carl traced the picture again in his hands, mulling over Vance’s words. “Yeah… okay.” He nodded slowly. “I think I get what you’re saying.”
“Good.” Vance said. “I’ve never been good with words. So… I was hoping that’d make sense. Even if I didn’t know what choked up was.”
Carl let out a quiet laugh.
An idea suddenly popped into his head. “Hey uhm, I have a camera in my backpack. It’s like one of those ones that prints the picture itself. Maybe we could take a picture together? Just so that pictures not so lonely.” He said, gesturing to the picture in Carl’s hand.
Carl thought for a few seconds before nodding. “Okay.”
Vance took his backpack off, setting it down and fishing out the camera, handing it to Michonne.
“You’re sure?” Michonne asked. “You have three films left and I’m not the best photographer.”
“I’m sure.” Vance said firmly he moved over to Carl's side, nudging him with his shoulder. “You’d better smile. My mom always says pictures are better when people are smiling.”
Carl rolled his eyes, but smiled at the camera regardless.
Michonne snapped the picture, putting the camera down and taking the film. She shook it a few times, letting it develop. “Uh oh Vance. I think you blinked.”
“What?!” Vance stepped forward, taking the picture from her. He looked closely, realizing that she was only messing with her. He looked up at her. “Really?”
She only grinned.
“That’s so mean! I thought you were being serious!” Vance grumbled.
Carl leaned over his shoulder, looking at the picture. “Man. We look like messes.” He commented.
Vance looked back down. Half of his face was covered in blood, his jacket had shoe prints on it, and Carl looked like he’d just gotten into a fight with a pig in mud. Vance spotted Michonne in the reflection of the bar mirror, and he smiled. His two closest friends in the same picture. “Nah, I like it.” He said. He held it out to Carl. “Here, you take it.”
“Oh. So I can remember you two after you leave?”
“After we leave?”
“Yeah. You guys are still leaving after this, right?” Carl asked.
Vance glanced at Michonne before looking back at Carl. “Well, I was hoping maybe we could… stay. And help.”
Carl’s face seemed to brighten before he quickly schooled his expression. “Wait really? You want to help us? This is a serious thing though. You could get hurt,”
Vance shrugged. “Andrea talked a lot of good about you guys. And I figure that if you guys mattered a lot to her, then you guys are probably worth fighting for. Plus, it’d be nice to have a place to stay after a long time on the road.” He looked back at Michonne. “If that’s okay with you. I’ll go whenever you go.”
Michonne seemed pensive. She let out a sigh and nodded. “You do need something like this. Constantly being on the run and having to chew sticks isn’t good for you.”
Vance beamed up at her, turning back to Carl. “So it’s decided! We’re friends now, and we’re gonna help you fight the Governor.”
Carl scrunched up his face. “Whoa. I didn’t say we could be friends.”
“What?! I literally almost got turned into walker food for that picture of yours!”
“Yeah and I almost got eaten trying to save you!”
Vance huffed. “Seriously? We just agreed to help you guys and—“ he stopped himself, seeing the smile break out on Carls face. “You’re messing with me.”
General tags: The Umbrella Academy, original character(s), fix it fic
Word count: 12, 261
"I need a life that isn't just about needing to escape my life."
-- Robert Polito
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Thirteen felt like she was being ripped out of her body. Every one of her senses was overwhelmed by an unknown number of things. She opened her eyes. There were two versions of her. The one that could feel everything, and the one that felt so disconnected from it. Somehow the two felt connected. Thirteen reached out to the other version of herself, wanting to be whole again. The one dressed in the grey tank top and shorts, not too stark of a contrast from herself, yet still somehow so different. The other Thirteen seemed hesitant, maybe even suspicious of the other version, but reached out despite this. Before their hands could touch, Thirteen was ripped away. She was thrown out of that slow falling state, falling in real time now and crashing into something hard.
Thirteen couldn’t help but cry out when the sharp edge of what felt like a hardcover book jabbed into her ribs. The pain temporarily took over everything before dulling away. Thirteen glanced to the side, seeing herself laying on some kind of table. Maybe if the adrenaline wasn’t trying to find its way out of her system she would’ve freaked out, but her head felt far too muddled to think of anything other than that stabbing pain in her side. Thirteen pushed herself up and looked around.
The place was strange. Faded red wallpaper with subtle white designs. Carved baseboards with swirls in them. You could hardly see the walls behind the obscene amount of furniture. Bookshelves and glass drawers filled to the brim with obviously expensive things. Decorative eggs and silverware. Paintings that Thirteen recognized from history books.
“Kyra? Thirteen?” Diana called.
Thirteen looked up to see her sister Diana looking much younger than she had when they left. The previously forty something year old was now reduced to her fourteen year old self. The one Thirteen remembered meeting on her first day in the lab. Her hair was no longer in a slick back bun, now back to its usual loose and curly state. Thirteen felt a pang of amusement when she realized that the suit her sister was wearing was far too big on her, making her look like a child playing in her mothers clothes.
“We need to go.” Kyra said abruptly.
“What? Where?” Thirteen asked, confused. Thirteen climbed up off the table, nearly falling onto the couch when her knees buckled. Thankfully, the leather couch was there to break her fall. It wasn’t the most comfortable thing around, but it was better than the floor. Thirteen groaned and pushed herself up against the cushions. Her body felt like it had been pushed far beyond its limits and it wanted to shut down for at least three days minimum.
“I don’t think we should be rushing into anything right now. I just got reverted to my fourteen year old body, and Thirteen can barely stand. Should we– and she’s already walking.” Diana let out a sigh.
“Well, it’s not like we have anything better to do, right?” Thirteen muttered, raising her hands to her head. Her palms lit up with a weak white light. She pressed her hands to either side of her head, feeling the last of her energy start to flow into getting rid of that headache. The ability to walk was overrated anyway.
Kyra stopped and turned to look at Diana. “They’re fighting.” She said, her voice sounding distant, as if she wasn’t entirely there. Had she gotten a premonition or something? Thirteen stayed quiet, trying to hear whatever it was Kyra had heard. People were talking. Loudly enough that she could hear the sound through the walls, but not their voices.
“Who?” Thirteen asked. Kyra didn’t explain any further. She only started walking again. Thirteen rubbed her forehead. Diana moved over to Thirteen, holding out a hand and helping her up off the couch. She stayed there for a few moments, letting Thirteen gather her bearings.
“Are you going to need help walking, or do you have it from here?” Diana asked.
Thirteen shook her head. “I’ve got it from here. Just… don’t expect me to be running anytime soon.” With a heavy sigh Thirteen forced herself to start walking. Her legs, muscles long atrophied, were pushed to their limits. Every step was just one unsteady motion followed by another. She could feel Kyra’s heartbeat in the distance, following it until she found the girl standing outside a window. Thirteen walked over, grabbing onto the coffee table and using it to keep herself standing. She was starting to regret being so stagnant back in her cage, but it wasn’t like she had access to a gym or anything down there.
Outside the window there was a gathering of people, standing around a… pile of ashes? Thirteen’s focus was quickly drawn to the two men in the circle standing nearby a statue of a young boy in a uniform. The first man, a man with a buzzcut who was dressed in dark clothes and black leather straps around his chest, seemed to be antagonizing the second man. A man who was abnormally tall and bulky, wearing a large jacket as if to hide his puzzling stature.
“After everything he did,” The buzzcut man started, approaching the taller man. “He had to ship you a million miles away. Want to guess why?”
“Diego,” the much larger man warned. A convenient way for Thirteen to learn the other's name. “You need to stop talking.” His fists were clenched tightly and the tension in his jaw was visible, even from far away. A fight was about to break out.
Diego, previously known as the buzzcut man, jabbed a finger into the other’s chest. “I’ll tell you why. Because that’s just how much he couldn’t stand the sight of you!” This seemed to be the other’s breaking point, as he le out a loud yell and shoved Diego back. Diego stumbled with the force of the shove but managed to catch himself before he fell. The bigger man chased after him, throwing a few punches. Unfortunately Diego was much faster and more agile than th either, and was able to dodge every attempt. The other people surrounding them backaway, but didn’t seem surprised by the development. Thirteen couldn’t help but assume that this was the norm if their only reactions were to back away from them.
Thirteen’s breath began to fog up the window and she quickly wiped it away, wanting to see what would happen next. There was a chimpanzee in a suit, a somewhat familiar sight to Thirteen. Although she was used to seeing him in a sanitary suit, not a suit and tie. “Boys!” He exclaimed, using a cane to approach them both. “Stop this at once.” He demanded.
“Yeah guys.” A third man giggled. He wore a very unusual outfit. A feathered scarf and a long coat to match his leather skirt. “Hit him, hit him!” He exclaimed, dancing with his pink see-through umbrella. Thirteen had never met another man like him. Then again, Thirteen had only ever met a handful of people. Most of them wore suits. The others wore lab coats.
Whether because of the third man’s cheering or their anger, the fight continued on, with the bigger man finally landing a punch on Diego. One that really seemed to hurt. Diego shrugged off the damage, moving away again. The bigger man chased Diego with a second punch, but Diego dodged, causing the punch to land on the crotch of a statue of a boy. The people outside seemed to hold their breath as the statue trembled before cracking and falling to the ground in three even parts. Thirteen winced at the sound of the crash, the sound loud even through the
window.
Thirteen held her breath, fearing that if they looked just a few feet to the right they’d see her and her sisters staring at them through the window. Apparently Kyra had wanted that attention, choosing now to step outside and intervene. Before Thirteen could say anything, Diana followed her outside. Caught between hiding in the house and following her sisters, Thirteen rubbed her wrists, before reluctantly following them as well. She stumbled on one of the steps, managing to catch herself before she fell. Thirteen stayed behind Kyra and Diana, feeling safer standing behind them knowing that if the fight came that way, they could handle it. After just barely evading the entirety of The Commission, Thirteen could not handle a fight. She couldn’t even handle a tame walk.
The attention of the family turned to them, and Thirteen felt small under their gaze. She felt like she was back on the exam room table while the surgeons looked at her. Thirteen was broken out of her thoughts by a boy no older than fourteen. “Who the hell are you?” He asked. Thirteen stayed silent, not wanting to draw any more attention to herself than necessary.
A girl with brown-blonde curls spoke next. “Better question, why the hell were you inside our house? I can’t be the only one that finds that a little strange.”
“Really? Cause that’s not the only strange thing about them.” The fourteen year old muttered, his glare stuck on Diana for some reason.
“Oh goodie you noticed them too! I was beginning to think those ibuprofen pills were laced or something.” The scarf man said with a giggle.
Thirteen felt utterly confused by these people. They seemed to be very familiar with each other, a family of sorts. But none of them seemed close. They interrupted each other and ignored each other. Thirteen was starting to feel a headache coming on. Kyra glanced back at Diana and Thirteen before stepping forward, almost hiding Thirteen with herself. “We don’t want any trouble.” She said, raising her hands in a placating gesture. “We didn’t mean to end up inside your home. We’re just lost.”
Diana let out a huff. “Yeah, that’s one way to put it.” She muttered.
Diego crossed his arms, and Thirteen spotted one of his hands reaching for one of the many blades on his person. “Maybe you should get unlost.” He warned. “This isn’t a bed and breakfast.”
“Children please, let us not be so rude to our new friends.” The blonde woman in the black dress spoke. There was something off about her, Thirteen noted. All the electricity in her body was screaming out to Thirteen that this woman was not human. Thirteen peeked out from behind Kyra to see the woman's face more clearly and realized, this was Mother. But… not her Mother? The Handler had mentioned timelines. Thirteen’s was called 44D25C. What was this one called? Thirteen’s staring must’ve caught the attention of Diego, who stepped in front of Mother– err, their timeline’s Mother, protectively.
Kyra noticed him reaching for the blade and moved to stand in front of Thirteen. “We didn’t come here to fight, so if our presence here is a problem, we will leave. We just need a few moments to gather our bearings and we’ll be on our way.”
“Oh my god wait, are you guys like, a lesbian couple and she’s your kid? Cause I mean if so, I totally support you guys.” The scarf man said. Diego reached over and gave the over man a firm smack across the head, making a face at him. “Seriously? Have a little decorum.”
Kyra nodded slowly, ignoring the comment. “Alright. I think introductions are a good place to start. My name is Kyra.” She gestured back to Thirteen and Diana. “These are my sisters, Diana and Thirteen.”
“Whoa whoa, her name is Thirteen?” The scarf man snickered. “What, were you like, bad luck or something when you were born?”
Thirteen glanced at Klaus, not sensing any malicious intent. “Something like that.” Thirteen said quietly. She noticed everyone else’s strange looks at her name. She regretted not coming up with a name, even something small. Just so she could pass for normal and not get strange looks every few seconds.
Allison stepped forward. “Mom’s right, we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” She held her hand out to Kyra, a polite smile on her face. “I’m Allison.”
Kyra shook her hand. “Nice to meet you, Allison.”
Allison took her hand back and gestured over to the young boy behind her. “You’ve already met my brother Five. Oh, and my brother Klaus.” Five? Thirteen glanced over at Five. Was he an experiment like them? Maybe that’s why they gave her that look.
Klaus, the one with the pink umbrella and eccentric outfit, grinned and waved his hand. “Aloha my friends.”
“The two idiots who broke the statue are Diego and Luther.” Allison gestured to the two behind her. Diego gave a nod of acknowledgement while Luther gave an awkward sort of wave.
Then there was the girl with straight hair. She walked over, stopping right in front of Thirteen, which struck Thirteen as odd. The girl held out her hand to Thirteen as Allison had done with Krya. “I’m Vanya,” She introduced herself. “But you can call me V.”
Thirteen glanced over at Kyra, who gave her a nod. Thirteen reached out and put her hand in V’s, giving it a firm shake. There was something about her that Thirteen found familiar. A feeling. Thirteen had never met this girl, but she knew they had something in common. “Thirteen.” She said after realizing she hadn’t said anything for a while. “No other nickname, just Thirteen.” She could feel herself cringe internally. She had been trying to mimic the way that V had introduced themself, but it only came out wrong. V laughed like Thirteen had said something funny. Thirteen felt a strange feeling wash over her. Something warm.
Kyra cleared her throat, knocking Thirteen out of her thoughts. “You can let go now, Thirteen.” She advised her. Thirteen looked down and realized that she was still holding V’s hand. She quickly let go, pulling her hand back to her side. “Sorry. I haven’t done one of these in a long time.” She said quietly, feeling her face flush with embarrassment.
“It’s no problem.” V said with a smile.
Kyra began to talk to the others, but Thirteen couldn’t bring herself to listen. She was stuck on the girl, V. Thirteen didn’t know why. Something was very different about her, she wasn’t like the others. But Thirteen couldn’t tell why. She seemed ordinary. From her clothes to the way she carried herself, nothing stood out. But this was one of those things where everything felt too carefully chosen to brush over it.
Thirteen turned to Diana in the hopes that she would have an answer, but Diana’s attention was elsewhere. Thirteen followed her gaze to see that Diana and Five were locked in some kind of staring contest. Thirteen didn’t know if there was something about him that she was supposed to know about, or maybe some kind of off feeling that Diana was getting that she wasn’t.
Thirteen looked up to see Kyra and the others walking back inside. Apparently they had decided this was a conversation best held indoors, and not in the pouring rain. Thirteen followed along, stopping when she saw Scarf man shove a white stick into the pile of ashes on the ground. He stood up and blew smoke out of his mouth, and for a moment, Thirteen could feel her innate curiosity rearing its head. The original Umbrella Academy, the people she suspected they were, were experiments of Reginald's as well. Could Klaus have been part dragon like her sister Kyra was?
Klaus started walking inside and Thirteen quickly followed, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention. The man whirled around, pointing his index fingers at her before lowering them. “Hey, Thirteen right?” He asked.
Thirteen nodded. “Question, are you a dragon?” She asked, not wanting to waste any more time.
Klaus let out a surprised snort before waving his hand. “Me? A dragon? Only when I close my eyes. Or have one too many magic mushrooms if you know what I mean.” He winked at Thirteen, as if sharing an inside joke with her that she didn’t understand.
“You have magic mushrooms?”
“Well, not on me.”
“Oh.” Thirteen said, disappointed. Thirteen had been a little excited at the idea of getting to try some magic mushrooms. “So are you a dragon?”
“Sadly I am only a dragon in spirit.” He brought his hands to his chest and made a sad face.
“So how are you able to do the smoke thing that Kya does?”
“Oh you mean this little thing.” Thirteen watched Klaus pull out a white and red box, pulling out a longer white stick than the one from earlier. He lifted it to his lips and pulled out a purple item, a lighter she realized, flicking it a few times until a flame sprouted up. He lifted the flame to the white end of the stick, taking a breath and pulling it away to blow smoke into the air. Thirteen watched the smoke curl in amazement.
“Unfortunately, it’s just cigarette smoke.” Klaus shrugged, taking another drag. “I do not have dragon abilities, though I so wish I did.” Klaus held out the stick to Thirteen. “Wanna try?”
Thirteen reached out, picking the stick up and being cautious of the burning end. She examined the stick, turning it over in her fingers. “So what do you do? Blow through it? Breath through it?”
“Uhm, kinda but not really.”
Thirteen blinked. “No offense, but that doesn’t clear up anything.”
“None taken, I’m terrible at explaining.” Klaus reached over and switched the cigarette in Thirteen's fingers so the orange part was facing her. “So this part is the filter, the part that actually goes in your mouth– NO DON’T EAT IT!” Klaus quickly caught Thirteen’s wrist before she could put it in her mouth, letting out a groan that was half amusement and half frustration. “Alrighty, someone has been living in a cave their whole life.”
“A cage.” Thirteen corrected.
“Huh?”
“You said the orange part is the part that goes in my mouth?” Thirteen asked before he could think about it for too long.
Klaus blinked before nodding. “Between your lips, yeah. Same way you would with a straw. You just inhale and exhale. I mean I really wouldn’t recommend keeping that smoke in for more than a few seconds y’know? But if you want to, be my guest.”
Thirteen glanced at the cigarette before following Klaus’ directions and inhaling the smoke. She pulled away and started coughing. The taste was awful, and the feeling of smoke in her lungs was unlike anything she’d ever felt before. When she looked back up, she saw Klaus laughing while holding his stomach. “Oh! Oh that never gets old.” He said with a grin, wiping his tears.
Thirteen frowned. “You lied to me?” She asked, not liking being the butt of the joke.
Klaus waved his hands. “No no, I didn’t lie to you. It’s just what happens the first time everyone smokes. So I didn’t lie to you, it’s just what happens y’know?”
“No, I don’t know.” Thirteen snipped, looking back down at the cigarette. “This is disgusting. Why would anyone willingly breathe in smoke like this?”
Klaus shrugged. “All the cool kids are doing it. I mean for me I’m just in it for that nice little buzz that makes everything feel better.”
Thirteen held up the cigarette in disbelief. “This small stick of smoke makes things feel better?”
“It makes me feel better.”
Thirteen's body still hurt after all the running she’d been doing. While the injuries would heal, it wasn’t going to heal immediately and was still going to leave her with a lot of discomfort. Hesitantly, Thirteen placed the cigarette back between her lips and took another inhale of the smoke. Thirteen coughed, but not as violently as she had the first time. Thirteen pulled it away and waved the smoke out of her face. “This is still disgusting.”
“It’s an acquired taste.”
“What do I do with it now?” Thirteen asked, wiping the water from her eyes.
“Why don’t you give it to me?”
Klaus and I both looked up to see Kyra holding her hand out. I hadn’t noticed her stay behind while the others went inside. Thirteen placed the cigarette on her palm and Kyra lifted it up, taking a long drag. She pulled back and breathed out much more smoke than she could’ve gotten from that little stick. Instead of putting the cigarette back between her lips, she took a breath of fresh air and let out a cloud of smoke that spiraled out into the air.
“Show off.” Thirteen said quietly before moving past her and headed into the house. Thirteen glanced back and saw Klaus putting his hands together and bowing to Kyra. “I have been out-classed.” He said, holding out a hand for her to shake. Thirteen noticed the ‘HELLO’ tattoo on his palm. It reminded her of Kyra’s spiral tattoos on her wrists. Thirteen decided to leave them two to talk while she went to go find Diana and the others.
Thirteen walked into one of the large rooms to find that everyone had claimed a seat. Thirteen chose to sit away from them, sitting down on a simple chair at the corner of the coffee table. Thirteen glanced around at everyone, taking in their outfits once again. She glanced down at her own. Everyone was dressed formally, which made sense seeing as they were having a funeral of sorts before they had interrupted the party. Thirteen was starting to feel a little self conscious about still being in her prisoner garbs, those being a beat up tank top and a pair of shorts. Thirteen reached over to the couch in front of her and picked up one of the pillows, using it to hide herself.
Kyra and Klaus finally rejoined a few moments later. Thirteen noticed a smile on Kyra’s lips. She decided then that Klaus must be a good person if Kyra was sharing a laugh with him. She was a good judge of people after all.
Seeing the tense atmosphere, Kyra sighed and jumped into action. “I won’t make us wait any longer, I’m sure you’re all confused as to why we’re here.”
Because Sir decided that he wanted to dabble in human experimentation, and once Thirteen and the others were old enough and the opportunity arose, they decided to escape. Only for them to land in the same place, and be kept apart from each other for years. Then finally when they found each other and escaped a second time they ended up landing in a new timeline. Obviously there were a few details Thirteen was leaving out, but she didn’t feel like giving a synopsis on her entire life story.
“My sisters and I are from a different timeline.” Kyra explained.
Thirteen noticed each of their surprised reactions, but the one that bothered her the most was Five’s lack of reaction. As if he’d known about it. Whether he knew about them or the timelines, Thirteen wasn’t entirely sure. But either option still warranted caution around him.
“Timelines.” Luther repeated. “What do you mean, from a different timeline?”
“Do I need to explain timelines to you?” Kyra asked. The question seemed genuine, but Thirteen could hear the slight passive aggressiveness to her tone.
Luther shook his head, not catching the undertone. “No, I know what timelines are. I’m just more surprised that they actually exist, and that you’re from a different one.”
“They exist. And in the one we’re from, when Ben–”
Klaus perked up almost immediately, nearly knocking over a vase in his excitement. “Ben? Like, like Ben-Ben? He’s got something to do with this?”
Kyra paused. “I’m uh, I’m getting to that. In our universe when Ben died, Reginald decided to do away with all the children born on the same day.” Kyra explained. Thirteen couldn’t hear his name without trying to hide, pulling the pillow closer to her chest. “So what he ended up doing was making children.” Kyra finished.
Klaus raised a hand. “Wait, Dad can do that?”
Thirteen couldn’t help but smirk at the idea of Sir creating children. She reached up to hide it before returning her face to its usual neutral expression.
“No, I mean he created us in test tubes.” Kyra corrected him with a smile of her own. “Choosing DNA and body parts that would suit whatever role he created us for. Merging and mutating us with superpowers and seeing what would fit. Experimenting on us essentially.”
Klaus let out a dramatic gasp, lifting a hand to his mouth. “Oh my god, test tube babies.” He whispered, as if the existence of unicorns had just been revealed. Thirteen was starting to like Klaus a little more than she’d like to admit.
“So you guys are what, the better versions of us?” Luther asked. Five scoffed, crossing his arms and looking away.
“That’s what he wanted us to be.” Kyra confirmed.
“But you’re not.” Diego stood up. “You said, that’s what he wanted. So why weren’t you guys better?”
“Maybe we were better.” Diana stood up as well, ready to take him on if needed. “But we weren’t going to let him continue to experiment on us so we could spend the rest of our lives being his perfect little soldiers. So we escaped.”
“You escaped. And that escape landed you in the middle of our house?” Diego asked.
Diana and Kyra shared a look. “Sort of,” Kyra answered.
“What does that mean, sort of?” Luther questioned, stepping closer, as if using his height to try and tower over her. He had a few inches on Kyra. Thirteen didn’t know exactly how tall Kyra was, but she knew she was either around or close to six feet tall. At least, to Thirteen she was.
“Luther!” Allison warned, holding out an arm to him as if she could stop him.
“No, Allison. I agree with him.” Diego said, crossing his arms. “We’re supposed to believe that these… people, let’s say, walked into our house, and claimed to be the Frankenstein that Dad created–”
“Frankeinstein’s creature.” Five corrected.
Diego spun around to face Five. “Excuse me?”
“Frankeinstein was the name of the doctor, dumbass. What you’re saying is that Dad created himself.”
“I don’t fucking care! That’s besides the point.” Diego scoffed, trying to move on.
“Alright genius, what’s your point?” Five pressed.
“That these people were literally built to be better than us, right?” Diego asked, turning towards Kyra.
Kyra pursed her lips. “Okay first of all, that is not what I said at all.”
“Okay hold up,” Luther said, raising his hand. “Can we rewind this conversation a little, because what do you mean you sort of just happened to land in the middle of our house after escaping from a different timeline.”
“It means that the situation is a little too complicated for us to explain over champagne and cucumber sandwiches. Do you understand, or does that need an explanation too?” Diana gave Luther a pointed look, as if challenging him. For a fourteen year old, it was impressive how easily Diana was able to make Luther take a step back.
This time it was Allison who spoke up. “Alright, just so that we’re all on the same page.” Allison stood up. “You guys are from a different timeline where Ben’s death affected Dad so bad, that he decided to start experimenting and creating super powered kids of his own?”
“Correct.” Kyra confirmed.
“And you guys had enough of that, and decided to escape, but somehow you ended up in the middle of our house?”
“Just about.” Diana nodded.
“Great.” Allison clasped her hands together. “We’re all on the same page.” She glanced back at the others to make sure no one was confused before turning back to Kyra. “I guess the question now is what do we do?”
“Not what we do,” Five stepped forward. “But what I do.”
“Ooo, is this the part where you tell us where you’ve been for the past… what, seventeen years now?” Klaus asked, leaning forward in his seat. Thirteen looked even more confused now. Five had been missing for seventeen years? He didn’t look like someone who’d been gone for seventeen years. He hardly even looked like someone who was gone for ten years. Every minute Thirteen spent with these people only seemed to raise more questions that she was not getting the answers to anytime soon.
Five opened his mouth before shutting it and rubbing his face. “I need some coffee before I even attempt to explain what’s going to happen to any of you.” With that, he turned on his heel and left the room.
V quickly stood up, looking panicked. “Wait, you’re just going to leave again?!”
“I’m just going to the kitchen, Vanya. I’m not going to disappear into time again.” He called, not bothering to turn around or slow down to answer her.
V let out an exhausted sigh and sunk back into her seat on the couch. Diego turned to face her. “What? Disappointed that he didn’t actually leave so you could have more material for your next book?”
With the reveal that V had written a book, Thirteen suddenly liked her a lot more. Thirteen loved books. Reading time in the lab was the only kind of solace she found other than an experiment or training done well. Thirteen shook her head, not wanting to become attached. She didn’t know these people. For all she knew they could be like him. They were his children after all. Raised by him. Chosen by him.
V threw Diego a glare. “Can’t you go five minutes without having to be the biggest asshole in the room.”
“I’m the asshole? I’m not the one who decided to air out the family’s dirty laundry for a few bucks.”
V abruptly stood up, leaving the room almost as fast as Five had in search of coffee. Maybe her book was a bit of a sore spot for the family, but Diego seemed to be the only one truly bothered by it. Thirteen couldn’t help but wonder why that was. Maybe it mentioned a few personal things about him that he didn’t agree with.
Luther stepped over and shoved Diego, pushing him back a few steps. “What the hell was that?” He demanded. “Can’t you just let the book go already?”
Diego’s anger flared up like a fire. “How could you forgive her so easily?”
“Because it was just a book, Diego. You have to let it go at some point.” Luther retorted.
“Really? Just a book? It’s so strange to me that you can write off something like that so easily but you’re still stuck on the idea that somehow someone got into the most secure place in the damn world, and killed Dad without anyone knowing.”
Thirteen was honestly surprised that a fight had broken out once more when Luther shoved Diego into the coffee table. She knew now why everyone had been so desensitized to it when they had begun fighting outside. This was just a common occurrence in the Umbrella household. Thirteen looked over at Kyra to find that she wasn’t surprised by this either. Thirteen reasoned that she’d already seen it coming, and had decided not to get involved. Which might’ve been the case, had she not heard Kyra whisper “This should’ve happened earlier. Just what have we done…?”
Thirteen was about to turn and ask her what she meant before Pogo shook her out of her thoughts. “Boys, cease this at once! Do not do this on your fathers–” Pogo was cut off by Luther lifting Diego’s jacket and throwing him down onto the coffee table, a loud crack resounding. Thirteen couldn’t tell if it was Diego or the table that had made that sound. Klaus however didn’t share her concern, and instead let out an amused giggle while lighting himself a second cigarette. Or maybe it was his third? Klaus giggled and waved his cigarette around. “Yeah guys, stop it.” He said, while sounding like he didn’t actually want them to stop.
Diego rolled off the table before Luther could bring his fists down on the table. Diego grabbed one of his various blades, brandishing it as Luther before moving forward and starting to slash at his coat. Luther ducked away from each slash until he bumped into a pedestal, starting a chain reaction that knocked over all the other priceless vases and artworks sitting atop them. Thirteen winced at the noise, her hands quickly reaching up to shield her ears from the loud shattering sound.
When Thirteen looked up to see Diego finally landing a hit on Luther with his blades. Thirteen grimaced, expecting blood, but to her surprise there wasn’t any. Just… fur? Thirteen tried to get a better look but Luther quickly covered the space with his hand. He seemed almost panicked about it, looking at every one to see if they had seen it, but his eyes lingered on Allison. He turned away and hurried off into the mansion.
Allison let out an annoyed breath and glared at Diego before following Luther. The two must be close if she was the only one who chased after him.
“Is your family always like this?” Diana asked Klaus, giving the coffee table and destroyed artifacts a raised eyebrow.
Klaus snickered and leaned forward to put his cigarette out on the destroyed coffee table. “Well isn’t yours?”
Diana glanced back at Kyra and Thirteen. Thirteen could tell she was thinking of their time back at the lab with Sir, Mother, and their siblings. Diana turned back to Klaus and shook her head. “No, not really.” She answered.
Klaus shrugged. “Then you’re lucky.”
Thirteen didn’t agree with what Klaus had said. She didn’t think any part about any of them was lucky. Not the powers they had been cursed with through human experimentation. Not the place they grew up in, the one that was so terrible that they decided to risk escape despite not knowing if there was anything better out there for them. Maybe they were lucky because they survived their butchered time jump, but it cost them each other. Diana grew old without them. Kyra grew up while she was there. Then they’d managed to find each other, and escape a second time. Thirteen looked up at Kyra and Diana. Her siblings in every way, including artificial blood. She didn’t want to lose them again. She clenched her fist. She wouldn’t lose them again.
V ended up calling them all into the kitchen as Five didn’t seem like he’d be able to find coffee anytime soon. Luther and Diego had fortunately calmed down, with Diego even going as far as to hold a hand out to the three sisters. “I’m Diego.”
Thirteen hesitated before giving him a light handshake. She hadn’t formed a solid opinion about him yet, other than the fact that he had a lot of knives and would fight his brother a lot.
Diana only shook his hand for a second before pulling away.
Kyra was the only one of them to give him a proper handshake. “Kyra. And I know who you are.”
“You do?” Diego frowned, as if growing suspicious again. “How?”
“Oh!” Klaus exclaimed, “So did Dear old Dad mention us while he was…” He gave a glance at Kyra and Diana, noticing the subtle suture marks in the skin around their joints. “Playing mix and match with your body parts?”
Thirteen didn’t know how to feel about his comparison. It wasn’t the best way to put it, but it did hit the nail on the head. If Thirteen recalled correctly, Diana and Kyra were among the few that actually received parts that weren’t their own.
Kyra let out a whistle. “You could say that.” She shrugged. Thirteen had to fight back the jealousy that welled up inside her. She’d always wanted to learn how to whistle, but she’d never figured it out. Five years in that cage and that was the one thing that pissed her off more than The Handler; being unable to learn how to whistle.
“Not just that.”
Thirteen looked up to see Five leaning against the table, taking a sip from the mug in his hands before continuing. “You’re the Seer.” He said, focus solely on Kyra. Thirteen briefly questioned what was in the coffee if it had somehow given him the ability to know people’s titles. Maybe it was those magic mushrooms that Klaus had mentioned earlier.
“The what?’ Klaus asked, stretching out the ‘a’ until it became a ‘whaaaat.’ No one answered him, and Thirteen got the feeling that everyone had a tendency to ignore him more than they did answer him.
“You know,” Five continued. “I’m surprised that we never ran into each other. But then again, you must’ve been busy up in that fancy office seeing as you were the only ever Seer the Commission had.”
“You could say that.” Kyra replied evenly.
Five let out a sigh and took a sip from his coffee, letting the tension build. “A psychic human-dragon hybrid who escaped from a ruined timeline. A few days ago I would’ve been ordered to take out someone like you. So how was it that you were not just allowed to stay alive, but asked to come work for the Commission?”
“I’m sure you have a better question on your mind.” Kyra replied, smoothly moving past the question.
Five paused, giving Kyra an analytical eye before starting a new line of questioning. “How much do you know?” He asked, setting his mug down on one of the small tables nearby and making eye contact with each of them. If he was trying to hide that, he wasn’t doing too good of a job.
“How much do you think we know?” Kyra countered. Thirteen bit back a groan. One of her least favorite things about Kyra, aside from her tendency to answer her questions in riddles, was her tendency to answer her questions with more questions.
Luther entered the room, glancing between all of us. Seeing the tense atmosphere he decided to ask a question of his own. “What’s going on?”
Klaus stood up and patted Luther’s shoulder. “Little brother is keeping secrets again~!” He sang.
Luther frowned and turned to Five. “Five, how do you know these people?”
Five decided to ignore Luther as well. “You’re right.” He said to Kyra, despite her not saying anything. “We don’t have time for this.” Thirteen was a little confused by his reply, seeing as no one had mentioned anything about a time limit on anything. “We need to talk. Immediately.”
“Like hell we are.” Diana said, stepping in front of her sisters. Thirteen felt a brief moment of safety as her sister stood protectively in front of them. “We are leaving.”
Thirteen heard a strange warbling sound. The same one she recognized from the briefcase. Her eyes darted to Five and for a split second she saw some kind of clear effect surrounding him, like water right before the surface tension broke. The effect seemed to swallow him whole, causing him to disappear. The warbling sounded again and Thirteen's eyes darted to the top of the stairs. The ripple effect appeared again, and Five emerged from it. “That’s too bad. Because I wasn’t exactly asking.” He called. “All three of you are coming with me.”
Thirteen looked at Kyra, waiting for her to tell them what to do. Kyra started walking towards the stairs, and Thirteen got up from the chair and followed. Thirteen looked around the house as they walked. The place was a stark contrast from the white walls and dark rooms she’d known all her life. For some reason, despite all the items in it and the size of the place, it held that same constricting air about it.
Five stopped in front of a door. He seemed to hesitate when reaching out for the doorknob before shaking it off and opening the door, leading them inside. It was a fancy sort of office. Large bookshelves pressed against the wall stacked with books. Files and papers left untouched on the desk from the last time they’d been used. TV monitors still tuned into what looked like camera footage of the house. Thirteen’s eyes were drawn to the bookshelf again, looking at each of the books. Most of them were rather boring, but one in particular caught her attention. A dark book with bright white letters. ‘EXTRA-ORDINARY, by V- HARGREEVES.’ That must’ve been the book that Diego was so upset about. Before Thirteen could reach forward to grab it, she heard the warbling sound again.
Thirteen turned to look at Five but he was gone. The warbling sounded right behind her, and she tried to turn around, but Five was faster. She was knocked down to her knees, and something sharp and metal pressed against her neck and she froze.
“Alright look.” Five started. “The way I see it, you three are hiding far too much for me to actually trust anything you say. Especially you.” Five jerked his chin in Diana’s direction. “So in order to make sure you’re telling the truth, I’m going to use this one as collateral damage.”
Thirteen glanced down to see a thin line of blood begin to spill from her throat because of the sharp silver blade Five held tight against her. Half of Thirteen was curious as to when he had picked it up, and where from, but the other part of her was just a little more focused on trying to survive.
“Don’t do this, Five.” Diana warned, sounding as if she’s had to say this before.
“Stay there.” He told her. “No one moves, no one leaves this room until you tell me exactly what you’re hiding.”
“Okay, okay.” Diana took a step back. “Just don’t hurt her.”
“Question one, why are you here? Commission send you to finish me off?”
“We’re not here to kill you.” Kyra answered. “But now I have a question for you.”
“That’s not how this works.” Five said, pressing the knife closer to Thirteen's throat. The pressure made her panic for a second, and the lights in the room seemed to flicker to match her state.
“Well it is now.” Kyra continued. “Eight days, what does that mean to you?”
Five paused and sighed. “Of course the Seer would know about this.” He nodded slowly. “Eight days. That’s the end of everything. The apocalypse.”
Thirteen felt like someone had cut her open, taken her heart, and literally dropped it into her stomach. The apocalypse? On top of everything she’d learned today, this had to take the cake. Five had been missing for almost twenty years, Luther had some kind of animal arms (Thirteen suspected gorilla), Klaus was not a dragon physically but apparently was spiritually? V had written a book that no one liked. And Allison–... actually, Thirteen hadn’t learned anything about Allison. But she dressed nicely. Unfortunately Allison’s knack for fashion took a backseat to the pressing concern that was the apocalypse in eight days. Thirteen let out a slow sigh, regretting it as the motion caused the knife to slice into her freshly healed skin. She winced, feeling the blood run down her chest.
Did she care about the apocalypse? One glance at her sister Kyra said she didn’t have a choice. They wouldn’t get another chance to jump to another world. Thirteen’s choice was either return to the Commission, or try and stop an impending apocalypse. She didn’t have to think too long to make her choice. Even if it meant working with the man– er, boy, holding her at knifepoint.
Five started the conversation once more. “Three commission workers. I know what your job was, Seer. And you of course, The Handler’s prized possession. But her, I don’t recognize her. What did you do for them?”
Thirteen clenched her jaw. “I didn’t do anything for them.” She bit out, trying not to get too aggressive considering he held a knife to her. “But they did a lot to me.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means she was kept prisoner.” Diana answered. “They kept us all apart for about a decade or so.”
“So you were all there at the same time, either employee or prisoner, and neither of you had any idea that they were keeping from each other?”
“I was in the field, Kyra was kept in an office far away from everyone, and Thirteen was hidden away in some basement no one even knew about. Not that hard to imagine how we never found out about each other.” Diana crossed her arms. “That, and we landed at different moments in time.”
Five nodded slowly. “Yeah, that makes a little more sense than just the Handler working her magic.” He shook his head. “They’re going to come after you, you know they will. They don’t like their property, be it employees or prisoners escaping from them.”
Thirteen felt a cold feeling wash over her, something akin to fear. She had just escaped from there less than an hour ago. She didn’t want to go back there. She didn’t think she could handle it any more. It was likely she’d crack and give into whatever it was they asked of her. Whether it be asking her to be a glorified battery that powered their building, or to don a suit and be one of their agents. Her breathing became sharp and quick, unable to stop her thoughts from spiraling.
“They’re going to come after all of us you dipwad.” Kyra hissed, smoke pouring from her nose in her frustration. “We are four runaways from the Commission. As in, the organization that is literally built to prevent any anomalies and ensure that major events in human history go as planned, by any means necessary.”
“I am not a runaway.” Five scoffed. “I broke my contract.”
“The only way to break a contract is if they let you go, or you die on a mission.” Kyra retorted. “And you know they don’t like to let people go.”
“The only way out is death.” Diana said, more to herself than anyone else. She said it as if she’d heard the phrase a thousand times before.
“So what was your plan then?’ Five tilted his head. “Escape and live out the rest of your lives on the run from the commission?” Upon the lack of response, Five let out another scoff. “That’s some plan. I’m curious though, how di you manage to pull this off? Did you steal a briefcase? Make one? Or does one of you have some kind of time traveling ability?” Each word was spoken with levels of condescension that Thirteen had only ever heard from Sir.
Maybe Kyra picked up on it, because Thirteen could see the anger written all over her face. The air around her wavered with the heat emanating off her. “Listen here, Number Five.” She gritted her teeth and took a step forward. “Diana and I have worked at the commission far longer than you have. Twice as long in fact. We jumped to escape from the commission, and to stop the apocalypse from happening so we could live our lives in peace. So maybe instead of constantly antagonizing us at every turn, I recommend that you stop and think about this. You know my job and you know I’m damn good at what I do. I’ve seen things about the upcoming eight days, things that you’d never be able to find on your own.” She took in a deep breath, blowing out some more smoke before continuing. “You want to question our escape? That was our chance to finally be with our family. To be free, even if we have to constantly be on the run. It’s better than being locked up in that godforsaken lab, or working for the commission. So if we have to live on the run we will. But we won’t let our freedom be taken away by the end of the fucking world.”
Five seemed physically stunned by what she had said, staying silent as he mulled over her worlds. “I don’t need your help.” He said finally.
Thirteen felt like the walls were beginning to close in on her. The idea of being returned to the commission, being tested on again. Brought back to life over and over again until they finally cracked whatever Reginald did to make her the way she was. Then what? Keep her down in that basement? Wait to see if she would die of old age? Test on her more just for fun? She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t breathe–! Thirteen lurched forward, biting down on Five’s arm in a desperate move to try and remove the pressure from her neck. Five let out a yell and tried to free himself, but Thirteen bit down harder. The knife lodged itself in her neck in the struggle, and Five ripped his hand free and tossed her to the side. Thirteen felt the knife fully plunge into her neck before her vision blinked out.
✦✦✦
When Thirteen opened her eyes, she found blood clouding her vision. Thirteen reached up a hand to wipe the blood from her eyes. The feeling returned to the rest of her body, temporarily overwhelming her before she managed to get a grip on herself again. Thirteen started to push herself to her feet, but her movements were jerky and she slipped in the puddle of blood beneath her. She coughed, spitting out blood from her mouth. Every breath in was a wet noise, blood mixing in her lungs. She reached up to feel a gash in her throat trying to close around a knife. Right, she’d been stabbed. Thirteen reached up to grab the desk, using it to push herself up. She saw Kyra sitting in one of the arm chairs, hands covered in blood and her face pale. She saw Diana as well, one hand covered in blood, but her expression was angry. Thirteen then turned her gaze to Five, and she saw that he was sporting a bloody nose. More than likely the cause for the blood on Diana’s clenched fist. Five was staring at Thirteen with apprehension, glancing at his bite mark.
“Great. Now I have to deal with a zombie bite and an impending apocalypse.” He muttered, trying to feign casualty, but Thirteen could tell that he was a little unnerved by her.
Thirteen tried to speak but the knife in her throat reminded her that it probably wasn’t a good idea. She reached up and yanked the knife free from her throat, tossing it on the floor a few feet away. A spray of blood landed on the carpet. Finally the gash in her throat healed without anything stopping it from closing. She sucked in a breath before speaking. “Are you done… arguing?” She asked, her voice sounding like it hadn’t been used in years. “We don’t have… the time. For… this shit.”
Kyra took in a shaky breath and reached up to wipe the blood from her face, only managing to smear it more. She stood up. “Look, Five. You might not want help, but you’ll certainly need it. If you want to be stubborn and do things your own way, that’s too damn bad. My family and I are here to stay, and we’re not going to let you screw this all up and destroy the one shot at living a normal life that we have. So like it or not, we’re here to help.”
After what felt like an eternity, Five sighed. “Fine. How do you plan to help?”
✦✦✦
Thirteen tried to pay attention to what was going on, but between the escape and her death, she was exhausted. She kept nodding off in the chair, unable to keep herself upright. Thirteen gave a glance at Kyra, who seemed to understand the situation and gave her a nod to go before finally leaving. Thirteen rubbed her arms. She’d lost track of how many times she’s died, but every time she came back she felt cold and hollow. Like she was just occupying a dead body, and not one that was alive.
She stopped and leaned against a table, feeling like she was moments away from passing out. Thirteen suddenly became aware of another heartbeat in the hallway with her, and she turned to see Pogo approaching with a jacket thrown over his arm. He gave her a knowing smile, walking up in front of her and holding it out.
“You seem chilly… Miss Thirteen, was it?”
Thirteen reached out and took the jacket, pulling it on. “Yes, you’re right.” She admitted. She didn’t think to question how he knew. In her timeline, Pogo always seemed to know everything.
“You should wash up and change out of those clothes.” He advised her.
Thirteen winced, remembering her current bloody state. “I uh, don’t have any other clothes.” She said quietly, embarrassed of her lack of… anything really.
“There are spare clothes in each of the rooms upstairs. Each one has a conjoined bathroom. Would you like me to escort you?”
Thirteen was slightly wary, but her exhaustion and grimy state made her a little more compliant than she normally would be. “Yes please.”
Pogo held out his arm to her. “May I?”
Thirteen reached out to take his arm. “Yes, please.” She said, being careful of how much of her weight she was putting on him. He adjusted his grip on her arm, helping to keep her upright as they walked.
“So as I understand it, you were also an Umbrella child, correct?” He asked.
Thirteen nodded. She got the feeling that he was mostly asking her questions to keep her awake so she didn’t pass out, but she didn’t mind it. She’d prefer it over collapsing to the floor.
“That’s not the entire story, is it?”
Thirteen shook her head.
Pogo hummed. “I helped raise these children. Grace and I. You could consider this an academy of sorts, thus the name. Together we taught and trained these children to save the world.” Pogo let out a tired sigh, stopping at one room in particular. “But we failed to teach them how to save themselves.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No no, don’t apologize. It is no fault of yours.” Pogo patted her arm and they began walking again. “Tell me, what of your timeline, dear girl? Were Grace and I able to save you then?”
Thirteen paused, thinking of their very first escape. Thirteen recalled Pogo’s sacrifice. Grace’s struggle against her programming to help them. Thirteen nodded. “Yes, you did.” She answered finally.
Pogo smiled. “I am glad then. One version of me succeeded.”
They stopped at the door at the end of the hallway. “This is my favorite room, I think you’ll enjoy it. It has the best view in the academy, you can see the park from here.” Pogo let go of her arm and opened the door. Thirteen stepped inside and looked around. Thankfully this room did not have the bleak white walls or dark brick that she was used to, but a nice red wallpaper with some kind of flower stem like design. In the room was a large bed pressed against the wall with plenty of space for her to crawl underneath and sleep. There was a large closet pressed against the next wall, and a desk underneath a large window on the wall across from the door. “This door here leads to the bathroom. Would you like me to ask Grace to make you something to eat?” Pogo asked.
Thirteen shook her head. “I ate yesterday, I’ll be fine until tomorrow.”
Pogo gave Thirteen an alarmed look. “Yesterday? That is not healthy at all. Please, allow us to make you something small to snack on.”
Thirteen quickly shook her head. “No- I don’t want to be a bother.”
Pogo was already out the door by the time she replied. “It’s no bother at all! It’s almost dinner time, please wash up before then alright?” He gave her a small smile to try and mask his concern before closing the door behind him.
Thirteen walked into the bathroom and flicked the light on. It was cozy enough. The lime green tile backsplash and sky blue linoleum tub. Thirteen looked around to see what else there was. Pressed against the wall was a shelf with clean towels on it, and even a bathrobe. Thirteen couldn’t pretend she wasn’t debating the robe, but she ultimately decided against it. Thirteen walked over to the shower and turned it on, jumping back as a hiss-like sound echoed in the room. She bumped into the sink, knocking over the glass soap dispenser which crashed and shattered on the floor. Starting to freak out, Thirteen stepped away again only to bump into the rack with towels on it as well. Thirteen’s chest felt tight and she didn’t feel like she was getting enough air in her lungs despite her sharp and quick breathing. She reached up to cover her ears, trying to block out the sound of the spraying water with the sound of her rapid heartbeat hammering in her ears.
It took a while for Thirteen to work up the courage to get up off the floor. She needed to turn off the shower. To stop the noise. She took slow steps forward, forcing her legs to stay steady despite how much she felt them shaking. She stopped in front of the tub, willing one of her hands to stop covering her ears and shut off the shower.
Thirteen let out a loud sigh of relief when the sound stopped. She sat down on the tub, rubbing her legs to try and get them to stop shaking. “I don’t know anything.” She said to herself as she continued to massage her legs. “I don’t know anything.” She repeated, shutting her eyes tightly. “I don’t know anything…”
Somehow Thirteen managed to turn the shower on again, rapidly switching it over to the tub before the noise could get to her again. She discarded her bloody clothes and climbed in, staying still for a few moments. The water was all around her, feeling like it was giving her a hug that was far too tight. She was suffocating. All she could hear was the water dripping off her hair, and she couldn’t stand it. She could taste Five’s blood in her mouth still, even though she had washed it out. She reached into the water and pulled the drain, letting half the water drain before plugging it again. She felt a little more comfortable now despite the sound of water still dripping from her hair. At least this way she didn’t feel like she’d drown.
Thirteen climbed out of the tub once she’d finished washing all the blood and grime off. It was a relief to finally be able to wash her own hair again and not have someone roughly handing her hair. She wrapped a towel around herself, looking at herself in the mirror. Her hair, as better as it looked now, was an untamed mess. Thirteen glanced over at the towel rack, seeing a hairbrush there. She grabbed it and started to try and comb through her hair. But just like before when she’d tried to brush her hair with her fingers, the tangles were too tough. Thirteen rapidly grew frustrated and tossed the brush aside. She exited the bathroom, moving over to the desk in search of scissors. She opened the drawer and found a pair sitting neatly amongst a few other supplies. She moved back into the bathroom and started cutting her hair.
By the time she finished there was hair all over the bathroom floor, mixing with the glass shards she’d forgotten to clear up. Thirteen ran her fingers through her hair, liking how much easier it was to comb through it. Her hair was awkwardly layered and covered her shoulders, giving her a rather shaggy look. Knowing it was unlikely to get any better, Thirteen started to clean up all the hair on the floor, picking up the glass shards as well. She shouldn’t leave a mess. She was a guest after all.
Once she was done she left the bathroom to get changed. In the closet was the uniform of the Umbrella Academy. She could tell because it had the words Umbrella Academy embroidered on it just below the official crest. Not wanting to wear it, she decided on a white tank top and navy blue pants. She was used to tank tops and didn’t feel like switching so many things up so quickly. She did however take a pair of socks and shoes, not wanting to walk around barefoot anymore.
She was in the process of trying to remember how to tie her shoes when a knock on the door interrupted her delicate process. “Come in.”
Pogo opened the door. “Miss Thirteen. May I say that you look much better now that you’ve freshened up. A new haircut as well I see. It looks lovely.”
“Thanks.” Thirteen said, fully aware that her hair was a mess.
“If you’d like to cut your hair again, please let Grace know. She’s the best equipped among us to assist with haircuts. But for now, please join us for dinner.”
“Who is us?” Thirteen asked.
“You, Grace, and myself. It seems everyone else might be a little too busy to join us. I hope you don’t mind.”
Thirteen shook her head. “No, I don’t mind.” She was used to having dinner alone. This was a nice change of pace.
“Good. Allow me to escort you back downstairs.”
Thirteen leaned down and took his arm again. Her hair fell into her face and she quickly pushed it back. She really ought to fix that before it becomes a problem.
They arrived downstairs at the dinner table and Pogo pulled out the chair for her. Thirteen sat down, drumming her fingers along the table.
“And for today’s very special dinner for our very special guests, we have my secret recipe for lasagna and some garlic knots made by yours truly.” Miss Grace gave a warm smile to Pogo. Thirteen could feel the electricity in her veins again, just as she had outside. The feeling was all the more persistent since Miss Grace was closer. Thirteen shook her head, pushing away the feeling.
Miss Grace walked over with a tray, setting it down. Pogo walked over as well with a plate of garlic knots. “Bread making was always one of my favorite pastimes.” Pogo said as he set them down on the table.
As soon as Miss Grace set down a slice of lasagna and garlic knots in front of Thirteen, she was eating as quickly as she could.
“Whoa,” Miss Grace laughed. “Someone is hungry.”
Thirteen blinked, remembering where she was. They weren’t going to take this from her. She could relax now. She wasn’t there anymore. She felt her face get hot with embarrassment and she sat up straight, grabbing a napkin and wiping her mouth. “I’m sorry.” She said quietly.
“Don’t apologize.” Pogo said. He set down his fork, reaching for a garlic knot and piling the lasagna on top. “We’re friends and family here. There’s no need to be shy.” he said before taking a big bite.
Thirteen reached for her food again, feeling more welcomed than she had before. She copied what Pogo had done, piling the lasagna on her garlic bread and taking a bite, eating a little slower than before. When the plate was empty, Miss Grace walked over and picked it up. “Would you like me to fix you a second plate?” She asked.
Thirteen perked up almost immediately. “I can have a second plate?” She asked, unable to stop the child-like hope in her voice.
“Of course you can! A growing child needs all the nutrients they can get.” Miss Grace said as she got to work on fixing Thirteen a second plate.
Thirteen tried to hold back from asking for a third plate. She was used to eating as much as she could, never knowing when her next meal was. But here, they were friendly. She could relax. She didn’t have to survive anymore.
✦✦✦
After dinner, Thirteen left upstairs to try and get some sleep. She looked around the room. During the day it had seemed welcoming, but now at night the wallpaper was almost pitch black, reminding her too much of the cage. Thirteen grabbed a blanket off the bed and left in search of her sisters. She walked down the hallway, hoping that maybe the two heartbeats she could sense in the distance were her sisters. She walked up to the door and knocked twice, not wanting to barge in on something.
Thankfully it was Kyra who opened the door. Thirteen glanced past her to see Diana in the room as well. Was she… missing something?
“What’s going on?” Thirteen asked.
“Nothing. Just catching up.” Kyra held the door open. “Come in.”
Thirteen stepped inside, looking at the room. It was blank like hers, but felt a little cozier. Maybe because this room had her sisters in it. Thirteen moved to take a seat on the bed. It was a tense silence for a while. No one really knew what to say. What do you say when you’ve just been reunited with your sisters who’ve been missing for years? Do you ask where they’d been? What they’ve seen? Do you tell them about what you did? Thirteen realized then that she didn’t actually do anything interesting. Kyra and Diana did though. They went out on missions like Agent Coronado told her. Maybe they’d seen a few interesting–
“Thirteen, your hair.” Diana murmured, eyes traveling over her sister's new appearance.
Thirteen reached up to brush some hair out of her face, feeling a little self conscious. “It was frustrating.” She said simply. “I uh… never got to do anything to it back there. It… doesn’t look bad, does it?”
“I like it,” Kyra said, lifting the towel around her neck to finish drying her hair. She had apparently taken advantage of the showers here as well.
“Seeing as you two showered, I suppose I should too.” Diana spoke up.
Thirteen moved over to sit on the bed. “I was meaning to ask, what happened to you? You uh… look a little different from when I last saw you.” The last time she saw her being only half an hour ago.
Diana looked down to her bloody umbrella uniform.
“It’s a long story.” Kyra chuckled.
“A very long story that I don’t want to get into.” Diana agreed. She left the room, likely going to shower as well.
Kyra moved over to join Thirteen on the bed. “So, how do you like it here so far?”
Thirteen looked up at her sister. “It’s not bad. It’s got a bed and a shower, and some free clothes.” She said, tugging at the straps of her tank top.
“I assume you didn’t like the academy uniform?” Kyra noted.
Thirteen shook her head. “I appreciate the free clothes, but I don’t want to be matching with Five.”
“Understandable.”
✦✦✦
Diana returned after a while, finding her sisters laying on the bed. She closed the door behind her. “So, what have you two been up to?” She asked.
Thirteen sat up on her elbows, smiling at her sister. “Girl talk.”
Diana moved over to the bed, laying down next to Thirteen. Diana reached out and grabbed Thirteen's wrist. Thirteen tensed for a minute, not used to having someone grab her wrist without cuffing her afterwards. “Is… everything alright?” She asked warily.
“Just checking your pulse.” Diana said, as if it were a normal thing to do. Thirteen didn’t realize why at first, until she remembered that she had died only a few hours ago. Thirteen nodded slowly, understanding that her sisters didn’t know about this ability of hers considering Sir would test it in one of the labs, and not where her sisters would see. “
After everything she’d been through, Thirteen wouldn’t lie and say that oftentimes she wished she didn’t come back at all. But with her sisters back and at her side, she’d stay alive. If not just for them.
“This doesn’t feel real.” Kyra spoke. Diana and Thirteen both turned to look at her. “I’ve been thinking about this moment for years. I’ve dreamed about it, not one of my visions but an actual dream. Now that it’s here… I’m not sure it’s real.” She admitted.
“It’s real.” Thirteen said, trying to reassure her.
“It doesn’t really feel real when the oldest sister somehow becomes physically fourteen and mentally forty something, and the other one died and got back up like she was just taking a nap.” Kyra said, gesturing between Thirteen and Diana.
“Alright first of all, I am right here.” Diana grumbled, crossing her arms. “And I’ll have you know, I’m forty-six.”
Kyra snorted, turning over to face her sisters. “I missed you.” She said quietly. “Both of you.”
“I’ll admit, I missed your morning philosophical talks.” Diana said, brushing a few loose curls behind her ear.
“Did you really?” Kyra asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow.
“No. I like my brain unscrambled in the mornings.”
Thirteen couldn’t help but roll her eyes. She didn’t know about them, but she knew that she needed sleep or else she was going to crash. Thirteen pulled the small blanket up to her chest.
“I think Thirteen’s got the right idea.” Kyra spoke up. “After breaking her out of the commission and jumping through time, I am absolutely exhausted.”
“You’re telling me.” Diana muttered, brushing her hair back again. “I am so not used to being in my fourteen year old body again.” She stretched out on the bed, grabbing the blanket and pulling it over herself.
“It’s nice to be with you two again.” Kyra admitted. “I just…”
“What is it?” Thirteen asked.
“I really… really wish it could stay like this.” She said. Thirteen knew full well that it was likely that this would be the last peaceful moment they would face for a while. Thirteen wanted to believe, even for just a second, that things could be this way. That things could be better, but after everything that happened at the commission, she couldn’t really hold out hope for anything anymore.
Diana laid on her back and let out a dramatic sigh, placing her hands behind her head. “Way to ruin the moment, sister.” She muttered.
Thirteen pulled the blanket closer, feeling uncomfortably cold. “It was always like this in my cage.” She said without thinking. “Back at the Commission, they liked to keep it cold.”
Kyra’s eyes flitted over to her. “Yeah?” She prompted, wanting to know more.
“She’s asking you to turn the heat on, you dork.” Diana said without opening her eyes.
“Right, yea. Sorry.” Kyra quickly brought her hands up and began rubbing them together. Her skin started to light up like embers in a fireplace, causing Diana to let out another exaggerated sigh.
“Now I know for a fact you don’t have to be doing all that.” She said, sitting up and turning to give Kyra a deadpanned look.
Thirteen reached back to shove Diana. “Shut up. You’re going to get this taken away from us.”
“Me? I’m just saying that little miss smoke breather over here doesn’t need to do her whole little magic hands pose to generate some freaking body heat.”
Thirteen sat up and grabbed the pillow from behind her, lunging at Diana with the pillow and shoving her down onto the bed.
“Hey– get off!” Diana exclaimed, voice muffled from under the pillow. She quickly started to grab at her arms and pull her off. But considering it was a twenty something year old who had been kept stagnant in a cage for years versus a fourteen year old assassin, they were pretty evenly matched.
Unfortunately, Kyra seemed to want to keep the peace and pulled them apart. “If you two want a personal space heater, then I don’t want to hear any more fighting.” She said, her tail moving from behind her to wrap around Thirteen’s waist and pull her off of Diana. Thirteen grumbled and reluctantly let go of the pillow, moving to burrow herself in Kyra’s warm arms. Diana shot her a glare before reluctantly moving closer. “Don’t steal all the heat you leech.” She said under her breath.
Thirteen ignored her comment. “What do we do now?” She asked Kyra.
Kyra shifted to lay on her back, looking up at the ceiling. She closed her eyes and draped an arm over Thirteen’s side. “Let’s get some sleep for now. We’ve got a lot of work to do tomorrow.”
“Like what?” Thirteen asked again.
Kyra mumbled something that either sounded like ‘hollow’ or ‘tomorrow.’ Thirteen decided on the latter as she drifted off to sleep. She let out a quiet yawn, relaxing into the bed. “Missed you guys.” Thirteen said as she closed her eyes.
“Yeah yeah. Missed you too.” Diana said, turning to face Kyra and Thirteen.
I’m not sure which characters you’re referring to, but I tagged them because characters exist through their media, and this is a series that includes the characters.
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS]: “Today we are conducting an experiment regarding Thirteen's resistance to certain elements. We are already aware of her strong resistance to electricity, so we’ve decided to test out her resistance to heat.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “As of now we have a branding iron, and we will be heating it up to different temperatures and seeing if Thirteen has a higher pain tolerance when it comes to fire. In exchange for her honesty and cooperation, we’ve promised her a small lamp for her cell.”
[DOCTOR WEBBER]: “The lamp will be small. Nothing too large, nothing too bright.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Alright Thirteen are you ready to begin?”
[THIRTEEN]: “Yes.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Sit up with your back facing me.”
[SHUFFLING]
{NURSE WEBBER]: “Here goes the first one. The scale is one to ten. One being it’s hot but doesn’t hurt, and ten being it’s unbearable.”
[NURSE WEBBER PRESSES THE IRON ROD INTO THIRTEENS BACK]
[SIZZLING]
[THIRTEEN]: “One.”
[PEN SCRATCHING AGAINST PAPER]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Here goes the second one.”
[SIZZLING]
[THIRTEEN]: “One.”
[AUDIO SKIPS FORWARD]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “This is number twelve.”
[SIZLING]
[THIRTEEN GRUNTS]
[THIRTEEN]: “T-ten.”
[NURSE WEBBER PULLS BACK]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “We will stop here.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS WRITES IT DOWN]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Now according to these numbers, Thirteen seems to have a higher tolerance for heat than the average person.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Seems to?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Alright, they have a higher tolerance. Further testing is required to see the limits, this will continue tomorrow.”
[A NEW VOICE SPEAKS UP]
[VOICE]: “I have intentions for what we’ve just achieved.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Handler? What are you doing here? This is a closed procedure. Licensed medical practitioners only.”
[THE VOICE, NOW IDENTIFIED AS THE HANDLER]: “I got your silly idea of giving her a lamp in her cage approved when everyone else vetoed it. I’d appreciate a little respect.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “...Sorry Handler. Please, continue with what you were saying.”
[THE HANDLER]: “Thank you. Now, I’d like for you to do two things. One, increase the intensity of the power dampener.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “You want to let the burns scar over?”
[THE HANDLER]: “She’s Commission property. We should label her as such.”
[NURSE WEBBER HESITATES]
[THE HANDLER]: “Now please.”
[NURSE WEBBER WALKS OVER TO THIRTEEN AND INCREASES THE POWER DAMPENER]
[THE HANDLER]: “Good. Now my second request, add another mark to her back.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Excuse me?”
[THE HANDLER]: “Well it’s only fitting that a girl who identifies as number Thirteen should bear thirteen marks.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I don’t think ‘fitting’ is the right word for it.”
[THE HANDLER]: “Then it’s a good thing I didn’t ask you for your opinion, isn’t it?”
[NURSE WEBBER SIGHS]: “Fine. I’ll add the thirteenth mark.”
[THERE IS AN INAUDIBLE WHISPER FROM AN UNKNOWN]
[SIZZLING SOUNDS]
[THIRTEEN GRUNTS]
[NURSE WEBBER PUTS AWAY THE IRON ROD]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “It’s done. Are you satisfied?”
[THE HANDLER]: “For now. You can send her back to her cell. Her lamp is already waiting.”
[THE HANDLER STEPS OUT OF THE ROOM]
[THE GUARDS WAIT A FEW MOMENTS BEFORE ENTERING THE ROOM AND REMOVING THIRTEEN]
[SILENCE]
[TRANSCRIBER NOTE: WARRENS. I LEFT THIS OUT OF THE OFFICIAL RECORDS LIKE YOU ASKED ME TO. I AM LEAVING YOU THIS COPY. DO NOT MAKE ME REGRET RISKING MY CAREER FOR YOU. MAKE GOOD ON YOUR WORD.]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Why did you hesitate?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Excuse me?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “You hesitated when the Handler asked you to do your job.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “The experiment had concluded. She was ruining our data.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Mm. Nice save.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Right, right. I must be imagining things.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Perhaps I should give you an ear examination after this.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Off the record, if I may?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Tread carefully. Your ears may not work, but I’m certain that the wall’s do.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Right.”
[SILENCE]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Webber, listen to me carefully.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Go ahead.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “I’ve been working for the commission for longer than I can remember. After a while, you stop questioning everything they ask you to do.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “How long did it take you to stop hesitating?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Well, I’m proud to say it took quite some time. But I’m disappointed to say I didn’t last as long as I’d hoped before I gave in.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “What are you suggesting? That I continue to hurt that girl just because the commission says so?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS SIGHS]: “Don’t make it out to be so black and white. You and I both know that the commission cannot be classified by labels as simple as good and bad.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I mean no offense doctor. But let’s skip the preamble and get to the point of this.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “You’re right, I’m sorry. What I’m trying to say is, it gets easier once you stop asking questions.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Again, all due respect, I don’t think hurting people for the sake of pleasing my bosses will ever come easily.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Just wait until you’ve been here as long as I have. Once you reach that point… the line you’ve drawn in your mind blurs. And before you know it you’ve committed atrocities a younger you would’ve never once considered. Even in your darkest moments.”
[SILENCE]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “It’s for the best, Webber. I’m sorry to be the one to ruin this for you.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “No. I understand the intentions behind telling me this. It’s just…”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “A hard pill to swallow?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Now that’s ironic, isn’t it?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Yes. Yes it is.”
[SHUFFLING]
[CLICK]
[AUDIO TAPE ENDS]
----------------------------------------
Someone is watching me.
I feel them in my head.
They’re searching for something.
I can’t find them. They keep disappearing.
What are you looking for?
I feel a barrier in my mind.
Like a wall, stopping them from getting through.
It doesn’t stop them.
They dig.
Deeper.
And deeper.
The floor is gone now; they’ve fallen through
I know who they are now.
My sister.
Kyra.
She’s in my head.
Searching for a memory, I think.
I don’t know what memory would help.
I think back to the experiments.
I wasn’t too conscious for many of them.
Too delirious or drugged up.
But today.
Today I was aware.
Something was wrong with me, they thought.
Nothing was wrong.
I was just… scared.
When Sir walked into my dream yesterday.
I couldn’t sleep afterwards.
I was scared that he’d do the same today.
He wasn’t there.
But she is there now.
Watching.
Waiting.
Searching.
I see glimpses of her.
A graveyard.
A desolate and messy place.
Objects from memories laid strewn about.
Needles.
Metal exam tables.
Leather straps.
Unmarked graves.
She’s standing in front of a TV of sorts.
I don’t look at the screen.
It makes me dizzy if I do.
I feel what they’re doing to me.
I can smell the chemicals in the room.
I’m in two places at once.
Standing behind Kyra.
And sitting on the table in the TV.
I look at Kyra.
Has she found it yet?
I can’t read her expression too well.
She’s pensive.
But she doesn’t seem hopeful.
Or maybe she is.
The recording ends on the TV and the perspective changes.
It’s through my eyes now.
Following where I was looking.
Through the hallways.
Glancing at the signs
They stop at a familiar looking cell.
My cell.
The TV suddenly melts away.
It served its purpose.
I feel a sudden weight off my shoulders.
Something I’d unknowingly been keeping to myself
My secret.
Our secret now.
I feel my sister stand.
She’s starting to slip away now that she’s found it.
As quickly as she appeared, she was gone.
I was left standing in the graveyard.
I looked down at the skeleton in the grave.
The one that had previously held the tape.
It started to fade into ash, blowing away in the wind.
Subject unable to undergo procedure. An examination was given to determine why.
[AUDIO RECORDER WHIRRS TO LIFE]
[CLICK]
[NURSE WEBBER BEGINS]: “Doctor Warrens,”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Yes, Nurse?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I don’t think we can continue with today's procedure.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Why is that, Nurse?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen appears very unstable.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS TURNS TO OBSERVE THE BODY OF THIRTEEN, WHO IS DESCRIBED TO BE TREMBLING]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “That shaking is an issue. Can we give her a paralytic?”
{NURSE WEBBER]: “Even with the paralytic, I think this is a bad sign. Thirteen could have another episode if we put her body under any strain.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS SIGHS]: “Alright, fine. No procedure. But let’s at least do an exam. Maybe the problem is something physical. At least then we can solve it.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Alright.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Remove the restraints.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “You’re not going to call the guards in?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Look at the state of her. She’s like a scared cat. Let’s not back her into a corner anymore than we’ve already done. Start with the blindfold so she can watch what you’re doing.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Yes doctor.”
[NURSE WEBBER REMOVES THE BLINDFOLD]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen? Are you alright?”
[SILENCE]
[NURSE WEBBER]: Thirteen I’m going to remove your restraints now. Nod if that’s alright.”
[THIRTEEN NODS]
[NURSE WEBBER BEGINS TO REMOVE THE RESTRAINS]
[METAL CLICKS AGAINST METAL]
[LEATHER BONDS FALL ONTO THE TABLE]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Do you need assistance to sit up?”
[THIRTEEN- FAINTLY]: “Yes.”
[NURSE WEBBER ASSISTS THIRTEEN TO SIT UP]
[DOCTOR WARRENS APPROACHES THEM BOTH]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Thirteen I’m going to remove your top to examine you for any external injuries.”
[THIRTEEN]: “Okay.”
[SHUFFLING]
[DOCTOR WARRENS SETS THIRTEENS TANK TOP ASIDE]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Let me know if anything hurts.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS TO GENTLY PROD AT THIRTEENS SKIN]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Nurse, turn her over.”
[SHUFFLING]
[DOCTOR WARRENS EXAMINES THIRTEEN FOR ANY INJURIES]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Okay, there’s nothing here. I’m going to examine your legs now.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS ASSISTS THIRTEEN BACK INTO HER TANK TOP]
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS TO PROD AT HER LEGS]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Anything, Thirteen?”
[THIRTEEN]: “No.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS SIGHS]: “The trembling doesn’t appear to be anything physical.
[NURSE WEBBER]: “What do you suggest we do, Doctor?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “We’ll have to save today's procedure for another day. We can’t continue with her like this.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “The Handler won’t like this development. You know how adamant she is about everything being done on schedule.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “If The Handler has a problem with it, she can discuss it with me. It’s my professional opinion that once we finish checking the rest of her vitals, Thirteen is to be returned to her cell effective immediately.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “...yes doctor.”
[CLICK]
[AUDIO RECORDING ENDS]
----------------------------------------
I have a lamp now. I stayed up for an extra two hours just to stare at the light. It didn’t illuminate much. Even with what it did illuminate, there wasn’t much to see in my cell. Nothing that I thought would help Kyra in her search. But nonetheless, I took the lamp and looked at as much as I could before I crawled onto my mattress under the bedframe to sleep.
Tonight when I opened my eyes, I was sitting on the rocks in the middle of the creek, watching the water rush by. I reached down, feeling the running water push against my fingers. The water at first was cool to the touch, but under the sun I could feel it starting to warm. I laid down on the smooth surface, feeling the sunlight dance on my skin. Kyra would be here soon to search through my memories again. Last time it wasn’t exactly pleasant. I felt that I should enjoy the peacefulness of this dream before we tried again.
I stretched out on the rock, reveling in the freedom I had in my dreams.
My mind would always be my sanctuary.
I got to hide from reality in places like this.
Places where I’d never have to think about what they did to me.
Places where I’d never have to think about what I did.
I enjoyed the light of the sun until something dark began to block out its warmth. I opened my eyes, and saw the dark clouds threatening to break open and start raining. I sighed and sat up, only to see Kyra.
If I weren’t growing accustomed to her shadowy figure, I would’ve been intimidated by just how imposing she could be.
A large figure enshrouded in darkness.
Angular wings and a tail with spikes.
It was just as easy to mistake Kyra for an angel, or maybe even a devil.
Kyra was the only one who could decide how she’d appear for you.
Today though, the sun sat behind her head like a halo.
She was here to save me.
For me, she was an angel.
I reluctantly sat up, crossing my legs.
“So what memory is it today, dream walker.” I drew out the nickname.
“That’s not something I get to decide.” She said, coming to sit slightly behind me. I could hear the unspoken words that she was thinking. ‘I don’t get to decide that. You do.’ Maybe she knew saying it would only serve to frustrate me, and that’s why Kyra chose to remain silent.
She stretched out her wings, and it was then I saw how large they were.
“You’ve matured.” I commented, noting the outline of her wings despite still not being able to see anything more than shadows.
“It’s been a long time, Thirteen. I had to mature at one point.”
“Yeah. I guess a year is a pretty long time.”
“It’s been much longer than a year.”
I paused. Had it? Just a few weeks ago, maybe a month or two now, I recall that Agent– Coronado, his name was, had brought me a slice of cake to celebrate my being there for a year.
“Well. Time passes differently when you live your life in a cage.” I shrugged.
We fell into a comfortable silence, watching the scenery.
“What do you notice about this dream, Thirteen?” She asked me. I could tell by that familiar tone of hers, that she was about to say something that’d make me think.
“Not much.” I admitted. And it was true.
I hadn’t noticed much about the dream.
But I did notice the way she’d always say my name. Thirteen. But she didn’t say it in the same cadence as you’d say someone's name. More like the way you’d talk about someone by their label. Like Sir or Madam. Maybe that was her way of subtly hinting that I should consider giving myself a real name.
But I hadn’t earned that privilege yet– if at all.
“There’s nothing striking about this to you at all?”
“No.” I answered. “Nothing in particular. Is there something you want me to notice?”
“It’s the lack of things you notice that I’m referring to.”
I let out an annoyed sigh and turned to her. “You really must be part dragon. You always speak in tongues, leaving the rest of us to scramble to find out what you mean.”
Kyra chuckled, but I didn’t feel bothered by it. It didn’t feel like she was laughing at me mockingly. More like what I’d said was amusing to her, like I’d told her a joke from Mother’s knock knock book.
“I forget that we didn’t read the same kinds of books during reading time.”
“Yeah. You moved on to advanced literature while I stayed with the picture books.” I scoffed, bringing my knees up to my chest to rest my chin on them.
Kyra only hummed in reply.
“Well, what I meant what I said earlier in a literal sense. There’s nothing to notice in your dreams.”
“Thanks.” I muttered sarcastically.
Kyra ignored me, continuing on with her revelation.
“None of the trees have special or identifying features. Each of these rocks are simple. The clouds are stagnant. There’s nothing in your dream that’s real, or behaves real.”
“I’m not surprised. I’ve never actually been to a creek. ”
Kyra looked at me, and that’s when it clicked.
“Oh. There’s nothing for me to base any of this off of other than those picture books I’d stare at.”
“Everything you see here is exactly as you saw it then.”
I nodded slowly. “Alright dream weaver, I see your point, my dreams are nothing more than my memories. But how does this relate to us finding where I am through my memories.”
“It doesn’t. Not really.”
Oh. Great.
“It’s just meant to give you hope.”
“Hope?”
“If everything you see here is exactly as you saw it then…?”
I tilted my head in thought.
“Then when we go through my recent memories…?”
“We’ll know that we can trust the clues we find.”
“If there are any clues.” I reminded her.
“There will be.”
“How do you have so much faith in me that I can get us out of here if I wasn’t even able to get myself out of here?”
“Because I know you, Thirteen.” She turned to me, and for a second I could see a flicker of those familiar eyes in the dark space that was her face– right where her eyes would’ve been. “You’ve seen something that will lead me to you. The only issue is diving deep enough to find wherever your mind has buried it.”
I nodded slowly. “You know what Kyra? You’re right.” I looked up at the sky.
“About what? Your memories?”
I chuckled. “Well, yeah. That. But also what you said earlier, about giving me hope. I feel a lot more hopeful than I did before.”
Kyra’s face changed, and I knew she was smiling at me. She leaned over, wrapping me in her wing. It didn’t occur to me then to question how she had known I was losing hope. Instead, I chose to savor the moments I had left in her company before I woke up.
Second attempt at measuring the reaction of regeneration when faced with paralysis
[AUDIO TAPE WHIRRS TO LIFE]
[CLICK]
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS]: “We are all set to begin the procedure. Thirteen has been given the appropriate amount of anesthetic in order to ensure that another incident does not occur. Thirteen has been firmly strapped down onto the table and is ready to begin.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Shall I begin, Doctor?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Yes nurse. Go ahead.”
[METAL TAPS AGAINST BONE]
[CREAKING]
[CRACK]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “The damage has been done.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Alright. I will close her up, then we’ll wait for the anesthesia to wear off to test her range of motion. Nurse, go pause the recording.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Yes doctor.”
[SHUFFLING]
[FOOTSTEPS APPROACH]
[CLICK]
[TAPE FAST FORWARDS]
[CLICK]
[AUDIO PLAYS]
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS]: “Thirteen has been weaned off the anesthesia and is currently sitting up with the assistance of Nurse Webber.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen cannot sit up on her own without the use of her hands or another person.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “How is her range of motion?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen, please kick your left leg.”
[SILENCE]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen?”
[THIRTEEN]: “I cannot move my leg.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I understand. Can you kick your right leg?”
[THIRTEEN]: “No, I cannot.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I’m going to poke you with a pen. Please let me know what you can feel.”
[SILENCE]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen? Could you feel that?”
[THIRTEEN]: “No.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I’m going to drag my pen from your ankle to your upper thigh. Let me know when you feel anything.”
[SILENCE]
[THIRTEEN]: “Are you done?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Yes. Did you feel anything?”
[THIRTEEN]: “No.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I’m going to try a needle on a random leg, at random points. Let me know if you feel it pricking you.”
[SILENCE]
[THIRTEEN]: “I don’t feel anything.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Where does the feeling stop?”
[THIRTEEN]: “A few inches above my torso.”
[NURSE WEBBER BEGINS PRODDING AROUND THE AREA]
[THIRTEEN]: “There.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “This is where it stops?”
[THIRTEEN]: “Yes.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “The procedure was a success. Thirteen cannot move or feel her limbs just two inches above the lower hip line.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Good. Help Thirteen into the back brace while I write up our conclusions.”
[CLICK]
[AUDIO TAPE ENDS]
----------------------------------------
This time the dream isn’t peaceful. Not like most of my dreams before. Today I’m strapped down to the operating table in the medical lab, but the blindfold is off. The bright overhead surgical light is shining in my eyes. I turn my head to look away and I see the cart full of the tools they use to open me up. I grimace at the sight and I turn the other way. Standing there is a dark shape, blurry, as if it hasn’t fully formed yet. I stare at the shape curiously until it takes on solid form, and I recognize the form to be T– Kyra.
“You’re here.”
I said quietly, fearing that if I spoke too loudly the doctor and the nurse would enter the empty room and begin the experiment.
“I’m right here with you.”
I felt her hand reach over on top of mine. The touch was strange. Like if she were wearing rubber gloves like the nurse and the doctor.
“So how do we find out where I am?”
Kyra’s shadow figure began to look around. I watched her walk over to the table with the tools and pick up the doctor's clipboard.
“Dammit.” She said as she flipped through the pages.
“What is it?” I craned my neck to try and see what she was reading, but the leather straps didn’t let me get too far.
“I can’t read this. It’s too blurry.”
She turned the clipboard to me, and I could see exactly what she was talking about. The paper had the general outline of a medical report, but it was far too blurry to make out any actual words. She turned the page, and it was just blank.
“Why is it doing that?”
“Because you don’t know what it says. Since you’d never get off that table, your mind didn’t make anything up for the clipboard. Nothing you didn’t see can appear.”
I frowned. “Again with the riddles.” I muttered bitterly.
Kyra set down the clipboard and began walking around the room.
“Let me know if you find anything.” I said under my breath, laying my head back on the cool metal table.
I heard the door open and I looked up. She had opened the door, but there was nothing but a pitch black darkness beyond the doorway.
“Where are you going?”
I asked her.
“Hold on a minute. I’ll be right back.”
My voice echoed from the hallway
“Don’t leave me here!”
But I hadn’t spoken. I furrowed my brow. The voice was higher pitched, younger sounding than the rasp that my voice became after screaming at the top of my lungs during experiments.
I saw Kyra look back at me, but I shook my head.
“I don’t know what’s out there.” I warned her.
Whoever it was that had said that sounded like me, but it wasn’t. I didn’t know who it was. Maybe something the commission implanted in me to keep people out. Maybe it was my subconsciousness leading her into a trap.
“I might.” She replied. “I’ll be right back, I promise.”
Smoke poured from her mouth, floating over to me, and caressing my face before dissipating down my body. The touch felt like a reassuring hug. The kind mother would give us before strapping us down to the table.
I watched her turn around again, and then walk off into the darkness. I watched her disappear into the darkness, until the door closed, blocking my view of her. Nothing happened for a while. But then something changed. Before I knew it, the scene shifted and we were somewhere else.
I looked around. This time, I wasn’t strapped down. But I was… waiting. Waiting for something. Or someone.
“We’re back there.” I said quietly.
In Sir’s lab. Where it all started.
The doorknob turned and I looked up. To my relief, it was Kyra that walked in. Not Sir.
“Why are we here? This isn’t going to help us find me.” I whispered. But Kyra didn’t seem to hear me.
My voice was the same as the one we’d heard in the hallway.
The voice of that young girl.
I looked down. My legs were hanging off the table, but they were much shorter than I remember them to be. I lifted up my hands, and noticed the bracelet on my wrist labeled ‘THIRTEEN.’
“Kyra, this isn’t working.” I said, trying to get her to respond. But again, she didn’t seem to hear me.
Was I even speaking?
I huffed in frustration and looked around before turning back to her. But Kyra wasn’t facing me anymore. She seemed stuck on the door, staring into something I couldn’t see.
This time when Kyra walked out, I couldn’t follow her.
For some reason I stayed stuck in the room.
I waited for a while until the doorknob turned again, and in walked Kyra.
It didn’t look like she’d returned on purpose.
She seemed rather confused that she was back here.
I felt like something had happened while she was gone.
She felt distant.
I called out to her, but my voice seemed to stop before it reached her ears.
Before I could try again, the door opened, and this time mother walked in.
My blood ran cold and I stiffened.
Mother didn’t even react to Kyra being there, nor did Kyra even seem to realize someone had walked in.
Mother offered me a smile
“Are you ready to begin, Thirteen?”
Her voice sounded wrong. There was no other way to explain it. I knew how she’d usually speak to me.
And this wasn’t it.
Sir had programmed her voice to sound soothing.
All it did was make me shudder.
Her smile was wider than I remembered it, stretching her face thin. She walked towards me, hands outstretched. She grabbed me too harshly, pinning me down onto the operating table.
I let out a sound of protest, only for mothers hand to cover my mouth.
“Shh. Father doesn’t like it when you scream.”
Tears brimmed my eyes, and the dream started to unravel in my fear
I struggled in mothers grip, but she didn’t even seem fazed.
Before I knew it I was strapped down, with the muzzle on my mouth.
The doorknob turned one last time, and I snapped awake before Sir could walk in.
This story can be taken as a backstory for Vance Graham, my The Walking Dead oc. Since this isn't a direct backstory for the 'You Still Were' series (still ongoing) so canon details between both series will vary. Hope you enjoy!
General tags: TWD, slight angst, original character, not canon compliant
Word count: 9,472
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Prologue:
Being immune in the apocalypse was a joke. Going unnoticed by the walkers milling about. Having them think that you’re one of them. They ignore you like you don’t appeal to them in the slightest. Traveling with people was hard because you couldn’t tell them what you were. You had to hide it. The more people that knew, the more likely you were to be taken advantage of.
Vance was immune. He didn’t want to be. Far from home, family gone, he’d been traveling with walkers for the longest time. Until he met Michonne. She’d killed the walkers he’d been traveling with and found him. Not willing to leave a child by themself, she took him with her. They’ve been traveling together for a while now, just the two of them and her pet walkers. Until tonight, when they found someone else.
“Someone’s in trouble.” Vance said, stopping in his tracks. He watched as a woman emerged from the tree line, hobbling away as fast as she could from a group of walkers. She turned back every now and then, firing off a shot and picking them off one by one until the gun wouldn’t fire anymore. “I think she’s running out of ammo.”
“That’s not our problem.” Michonne said quietly, dragging the two walkers behind them. “Not unless she brings them to us.”
“We have to help her.” Vance replied, not following Michonne.
Michonne stopped in her tracks, letting out a sigh. “We don’t have to do anything.”
“I’m going to help her.” Vance said stubbornly.
“You’ll get yourself killed trying to help her.”
“No I won’t, I’m getting better with my aim. Watch.” Vance grabbed his bow from his back, grabbing an arrow as well.
“Vance, if you fire that arrow I won’t save you when things go wrong.” Michonne warned him.
“I’ll be fine.” Vance muttered, taking aim. “The dead don’t like me, remember?” With that, he fired off the first arrow. It lodged itself in the walker's head, and it collapsed onto the ground. Vance grinned and looked up at Michonne. “I got one!” The boy exclaimed.
“Yes, you did. But there’s two more.” Michonne reminded him. “Stay focused.”
Vance turned back to the walkers, knocking another arrow. The second one lodged in the walker's throat, but it kept advancing to the girl who had already run out of ammunition. Vance grumbled and took a few steps closer before firing off another arrow. This one killed the walker, but it ended up toppling on top of the girl. “Oh crap.” Vance muttered, seeing the final walker start to approach. He reached for another arrow but Michonne was already walking over. She took out her kitana, dragging her two pet walkers behind her as she approached the girl. She sliced the walker's head off, kicking it to the side.
The blonde on the ground looked up, eyes wide at the sight of Michonne. “Who are you?” She asked quietly.
“Don’t worry about that now.” Michonne cleaned off her blade. “You’re safe.” She put away her blade, making the hand motion that Vance recognized as ‘hide.’ A closed fist followed by an opening motion outwards, looking like the same sort of hand motion you’d use to throw something to the side. Vance took the hint and crouched behind the nearest tree, arrow in hand just in case the girl they saved tried anything.
“I appreciate the save.” The woman said. She pushed herself out from under the walker, climbing to her feet. She was unsteady, falling before she could even stand up properly.
“Are you alright?” Michonne asked.
“Yeah i, just… really fucking tired.” The girl admitted. “I just need a minute to catch my breath… maybe a few more minutes after that.”
Michonne was quiet for a few minutes before she sighed. She let out two quick whistles. Vance stood up, putting his bow and arrow away before approaching. Vance stood by Michonne’s side, waiting for her next instruction.
Michonne turned to face him. “We’re taking her with us. Help her up.”
“Wait, really?’ Vance asked, already walking over to the woman in hopes that Michonne wouldn’t change her mind.
“Mm.”
Vance knelt down beside the woman. “Hi, I’m Vance.” He said, holding out a hand to her.
“I’m Andrea.” She said, reaching out to shake Vance’s hand. She gave him a strange look, like she was trying to read his mind. “How old are you, kid?”
“I’m eleven and a half.” Vance said proudly. “I’d ask you but I’m pretty sure that’s a rude question.” Vance instead grabbed her arm, helping her up. Andrea leaned on him, looking up. “So Vance, who’s this?”
Vance looked up as well. “This is my best friend Michonne.” He looked back at Andrea. “We can be friends too if you want. Us survivors have to stick together, right?”
Andrea looked at him, a sad look on her face. “Yeah. Yeah we do.”
Andrea was a good friend to have, Vance decided. She knew a lot about surviving, and fishing. Vance had never learned how to fish before, so he wasn’t very good at it. But Andrea was very patient with him. She told him stories of her past as they traveled. Boating stories with her dad and her sister Amy who had unfortunately passed. She told Vance about a large group that she used to travel with. A man named Rick who was their leader. He was a Sheriff before all this, and he had his right hand man with him. Another man named Shane. Andrea didn’t talk about him too much, Vance assumed maybe they didn’t get along. Rick had a son named Carl. Andrea said that he was about Vance’s age. She said that they’d be good friends. Vance hoped so. He liked having friends. Before he met Michonne, he was starting to go a little crazy, talking to walkers and giving them names. They were the only people– err, company that he had.
Vance told Andrea a little bit about his past as well. He didn’t do anything really interesting, so he mostly told her about school and the things that he was learning. He talked a lot about the kids there and how he only had a few friends there as well. He didn’t mention his immunity to her. Michonne had told him that even though he and Andrea were friends, he didn’t have to tell his friends everything about himself. Some things were better left unsaid. Vance didn’t really like keeping secrets, he was pretty bad at it to be honest, but he understood where she was coming from.
Somewhere along the way while they were traveling, Andrea had gotten sick. Vance didn’t know how, or what she was sick with, but it was really bad. They’d been traveling at a snail's pace for a while, trying to find medicine for her and make sure she was getting rest. But all they had right now was aspirin, and times were getting tough.
Vance stopped in his racks, looking up at the sky. There was a helicopter passing by. He was about to keep walking when he realized that there shouldn’t be a helicopter in the middle of the apocalypse. “Michonne.” He said quickly, pointing up to the sky.
Michonne looked up. “That’s strange.” She said quietly.
“I think it’s smoking.” Andrea observed, squinting to try and get a better look. The helicopter started smoking more, confirming her observation. It started to spin, crashing into the forest.
“Whoa.” Vance whispered quietly. “Can we go check it out?”
Andrea looks to Michonne. “There could be something worth taking. Medical supplies, weapons if they survived the crash.”
Michonne is quiet for a few moments before reluctantly nodding. They started off towards the crash, following the smoke from the sky. Vance had to force himself to be quiet, excited at the idea of being this close to a helicopter, even if it’s one that just crashed. He stayed close to Andrea’s side, making sure that she was keeping up with them.With any luck, there’d be something inside that was a little better than aspirin. They arrived at the wreckage, and Michonne grabbed Vance before he could run off to investigate.
“Stay here. I’ll make sure it's safe. Then you two can come with me.” She said quietly, moving them over to a few bushes. She hesitated when she was about to wrap the chains holding her pet walkers around the tree they’d be hiding next to. She gave a glance to Vance before ultimately tying them to a different tree. Michonne got up, starting to walk over when the sound of two engines approaching made her stop. She hurried back to the bushes with Vance and Andrea.
A group of men exited the car, and Vance immediately moved closer to the tree to hide. The men walked over to the crash, pulling out the people inside and checking on them. Vance peeked out a little more. He watched them kneel beside the pilot and the two other men. The two men from the crash seemed to be dead. The new group stabbed them in the head without hesitation. Vance reached a hand up to his mouth to muffle the quiet gasp he couldn’t stop.
The sound must’ve alerted the pet walkers, as they moved and rattled their chains. The new group turned in their direction, searching for them amongst the foliage. Michonne didn’t hesitate before getting up and decapitating the walkers. She knelt back down, about to whisper a plan when a twig snapped behind them.
Vance turned to see a very burly man standing there. He looked like any biker you’d find in a bar, only with a prosthetic limb. Vance couldn’t help but marvel at the sight of the arm for a few seconds before fear took hold. He moved close to Michonne, grabbing the edge of her jacket in his hand.
“Hello there Andrea.” the man said, giving the blonde a wave.
Vance looked over to Andrea, but she seemed to have passed out. Vance let go of Michonne, moving to check her pulse.
“Don’t try anything funny.” The man said, walking over and grabbing Vance by the collar of his oversized jacket. Vance struggled for a few moments before giving up, knowing that he was outmatched. He glared at the man. “I was going to check her pulse.” He grumbled.
“Aw, now isn’t that sweet.” The man mocked. He turned over to his men who had started to approach. “Put them in the truck. Be careful of the blonde. Apparently, something ain’t right with her.”
The man, who introduced himself as Merle, wasn’t all that bad of a guy. He took them to this very large wall, and when it opened up they were in some kind of slice of paradise. Vance was holding onto the edge of the truck bed as he leaned out to look at all the restored buildings. People walking around and holding food and toys and even flowers. “What is this place?” Vance asked Merle.
“This here is Woodsbury.” Merle said proudly. He looked around as well. “Our own little place away from that shit show out there.”
“Language.” Vance chided him as he turned back to the buildings. Vance had never been to Disneyland before, but he imagined this is what it looked like to walk down that place, man street his friend Ernie had called it. Lots of brightly colored houses and white picket fences.
“You can kill walkers but you can’t cuss?” Merle raised an eyebrow.
Vance looked up at him. “Michonne says it’s the principle of the matter.”
“Do you even know what that means?”
“No. But she says it’s important.”
Merle brought them to the hospital there, where a doctor hooked Andrea up to an IV. Vance sat on one of the other beds, kicking his legs as Michonne watched the doctor carefully. Merle had left to go call his boss to welcome them, and was back now.
“So,” He said as he entered the room, walking over to Andrea. “I bet you’re wondering how I made it huh?”
“Of course I am.” Andrea said. “We went back for you. Daryl and the rest of the group. All they could find was your hand and a trail of blood.”
“Yeah, thanks to Sheriff do-good.” Merle let out a huff. He crossed his arms. “Well you see, butterfingers dropped the damn key down the drainage, and then dipped when everything went south. There was a saw there, but the damn thing was too dull to cut through the cuffs. So I had to cut off my hand instead. Nearly bled out ‘cause of it.” He shook his head, rubbing the space where the prosthetic metal met skin. “These guys here? Right when I was thinking of having a bullet or two as a last meal. They saved me, and gave me this neat little gadget.” Merle held up his prosthetic arm, turning slightly to face Vance so he could show off its blade.
Vance did his best not to look too impressed, but it was a little hard considering he was twelve and impressed by anything vaguely cool.
“I have to admit I’m surprised. But I’m glad you made it out .Not many of us did.” Andrea shook her head. “We lost Jim, Dale, Jacqui, Sophia and… and Amy.”
“Amy. That was that sister of yours you mentioned back in that store, right?”
“Yes, that’s her.” Andrea let out a quiet sniffle. “She uh… got bit.. I had to put her down before she turned.”
“She sounded like a good kid. I’m sorry to hear about that.” Merle said quietly. “Say uh, I don’t mean to be insensitive but have you seen my brother?”
Andrea shook her head. “Not for months, we got separated after this huge herd attacked the place where we were staying.”
“That’s a damn shame. I was hoping… I dunno.”
“Enough of the small talk.” Andrea said, a little louder now that she was starting to feel better. “What do you want from us?”
Merle raised an eyebrow. “And I thought I was the asshole. You’ve got medicine and a roof over your head, your friends alive and with you, and you think I’m trying to get something out of you? How about you give me a nice big hug and a thank you first?”
“You held a gun on us and forced us into your vehicle.” Michonne reminded him. “The only thank you you’ll get from me is a stab wound.”
“Wow, now that’s some southern hospitality. Look, don't take it personally, princess. Everyone had a gun on them at one point or another. That’s just the way life is now. So if you want to–”
“Thank you,” Andrea interrupted before he could keep talking. “For your help. And the medicine.”
Merle grinned. “Now that’s what I’m talking about. A little gratitude.”
A man entered the room. He was wearing a dark jacket and khaki’s, which made Vance frown. He had to wear khakis in elementary school as a part of his uniform. He didn’t exactly like the way they looked. The man walked over to Merle, whispering something into his ear. Merle nodded and stepped aside. The man looked to the three of them in the room. “How are you feeling?” He asked.
“We want our weapons, and we want to leave.” Michonne said immediately, not letting Andrea answer.
“Of course. You can have your weapons on your way out.”
“On our way out? You’ve kept us locked up in this room, how can we trust that you’ll let us go?” Andrea demanded.
The man raised up his hands in peace. “We haven’t kept you locked up anywhere. This is our medical ward where we took you to get fixed up. Merle’s here, yes, but that’s just to make sure that you all don’t try anything. We’ve got people here we’d like to keep safe.” He explained.
“Really? That’s funny cause, not even an hour ago we watched you put a knife into the skulls of two already dead men. What the hell was that about, huh? Some sick ritual? Or just something that your ‘people’ like to do for fun?”
“They were going to turn,” he answered. “Whether or not they were bitten or even scratched, everyone turns when they die. I wasn’t going to leave them there for some other person to walk by and then have to deal with.” He crossed his arms. “Now, as I said earlier you are free to leave. You’ll collect your weapons by the gates and head out. However we don’t open the gates past dusk, and I heard from the doctor that it’s not likely that you’ll last another day out there.”
“You want us to stay here.” Michonne spoke.
“Maybe. But before you say no, let me give you a tour of the place. I’ll show you around, explain how things work here. If you like it you’re free to stay with us. Find a job here that suits you so you can contribute to our fine little city. And if by the end of the tour you aren’t persuaded to stay with us, then we’ll give you your weapons and some extra supplies and send you back on your way. Maybe even with keys to a car. How does that sound?”
Vance looked over at Michonne, as did Andrea. Michonne let out a sigh. “Fine. One tour.” She relented.
The man led them outside, opening the door to reveal the outside world again. “Welcome to Woodsbury. I’m the Governor here, and as of right now I’m also your personal tour guide.” He gave them a smile. “Follow me.”
The Governor brought them over to the top of the large outer fence. “Now, don’t be scared of these guards here. Yes they’re heavily armed, but they are here to keep everyone safe.” He said, walking over to one of them and patting them on the back. “The guards consist of a few feds, and the rest of us are self trained.” The Governor walked over to Vance, leaning down. “You could be a part of the guard too if you’d like. I saw that bow of yours, are you trained?”
Vance looked up at Michonne, who gave him a small nod. Vance turned back to the Governor. “I’m in training. I’m getting better though. I think.”
The Governor smiled and patted Vance on the shoulder. “Hey, progress is progress right? I should introduce you to one of our guards. She’s got something similar to that bow of yours. Would you like that?”
Vance hesitated. He didn’t want Michonne to think that she wasn’t a good teacher. After all, she’d taught him how to use it in the first place. But getting lessons from someone else who used a bow and arrow wouldn’t hurt, right? “Uhm. Okay.” He agreed.
“Governor, we’ve got a creeper.” Merle called from a few feet away. “Think I could take a shot at it?”
The Governor let out a whistle, pointing over to where Merle had showed him so they could point a flashlight that way. Merle took aim, shooting the walker between the eyes. Merle let out a hoot before spotting two more walkers. “Hold on, he’s got friends!” Merle raised the gun again, firing off two more shots. “That’s all folks.” He said smugly.
The Governor nods, pleased with his work. “Good. Send some men to get them in the morning.”
“The morning?” Andrea asked. “Why wait?”
“We don’t go outside the walls at night. The creepers are the most dangerous then. So we’ll collect them once the sun rises, that way they don’t rot and make an odor.” The Governor turned back to the steps. “Let me show you the rest of the town.” He led them down the fence again, bringing them over to one of the houses.
He opened the door to the house, moving to stand in the living room. “Go ahead and make yourselves comfortable. We’ve got food, water, and fresh clothes. We’ve even got hot water, but it is limited so please do your best and keep it short.” He watches as they remain standing, not yet moving anywhere. He let out a short exhale before speaking again. “Look, I know you’d feel much better with your weapons but I can promise you, you’re safe here. You saw the people walking around outside, and you saw the guards at the fence. There is no danger in or even outside of Woodsbury so, do make yourself at home.” With that, he finally left.
Vance looked around the house. “I get first dibs on a hot shower!” He called, rushing up the stairs.
“Oh what?! No fair! I’m sick and injured, I should get first dibs!” Andrea called after him, not yet giving chase. She let out a chuckle and turned to Michonne. Her smile slowly dropped, seeing Michonne’s slightly angry expression. “Mich, what’s wrong?” She asked.
Michonne shook her head. “Something isn’t right with that man.” She said quietly.
Andrea chewed the inside of her cheek. “We’ve only been here a few hours. Let’s give this place a chance before we condemn it, alright? You saw how excited Vance looked when he saw all the people. The kids running around in the streets? This could be good for him. For us.”
“You don’t know that.”
“And you don’t know it’s not true.” Andrea countered. She placed a hand on Michonne’s shoulder, giving it a squeeze. “Take a hot shower, change into some clean clothes, and get some sleep. Tomorrow we can make a decision about this place, okay?”
Michonne reluctantly nodded. “Alright. We’ll wait until then.”
The next day, Vance came into Michonne’s room, showing him his new clothes. “Look! There was a spider punk shirt in the drawer! Can you believe it? He’s like- the most bada–” Vance quickly corrected himself upon seeing Michonne’s stern look. “The most coolest spiderman.” He finished shyly.
Michonne nodded. “I suppose he is rather cool. Where’s your jacket?”
“Andrea took it to get washed yesterday. It’s drying outside right now.”
“Good. Keep your things together.” Michonne advised, grabbing some new shoes from the closet and pulling them on.
“What? Why?” Vance asked, confused.
“Because when you’re a guest in someone else’s home, you should do your best not to leave a mess.” Michonne said, tying up her boots. “Go make sure Andrea is awake, we don’t want to be late for breakfast.”
“Yes ma’am!”
They arrived at the Governor’s home, and Vance didn’t hesitate before digging in to the food at the table. He didn’t even realize that the Governor had set a second plate down until his first plate was cleared. He glanced over at Michonne who was giving him a look. Vance’s face turned red with embarrassment. “Oh- uhm. Thank you for the food.” He said, grabbing a napkin and cleaning his mouth.
“It’s no problem.” The Governor replied. He nudged the second plate closer to Vance. “Here. A growing boy needs all the nutrients he can get.”
“Really?” Vance asked, glancing between the Governor and Michonne.
“Yes, really. Don’t worry, food isn’t one of our worries here.”
With that in mind, Vance immediately started eating again.
The Governor sat down with a plate of his own, sitting down. “I’m honestly quite surprised that you all lasted eight months out there.”
“Why? Cause we’re two women and a kid?” Andrea asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Because you were alone.” He replied. “Even though you all had each other, survival out in the wild is damn near impossible. Waking up every morning and wondering if you’ll find food. If you’re going to make it to tomorrow, or if you’ll be blessed enough to have a quick death to the brain before you die slow and become one of them.” He said, poking at the food on his plate.
Vance slowed down a little bit as he ate, a little put off by the governor's words. He kept eating, not wanting to be ungrateful for the extra serving he was given.
“Do you believe that these… creatures, let's say, remember who they were?” The other man asked. Milton, if Vance remembered correctly. He was like a scientist or something.
“I don’t really think about it.” Andrea answered. “Whether or not these guys have got even the slightest amount of thought in them, it doesn’t matter to me. I’m just trying to avoid getting bit by one of them.”
“Right, right. See you talk about them like they weren’t once human.” Milton comments. He turned over to Michonne who was poking at her plate as if it would bite her. “But you were dragging two of them with you. In chains. Who were they? You seemed to have some kind of control over them. Using them the way that you did. Did you know them before they turned?”
Vance grimaced, pushing his plate away. “Uhm. Sorry, I don’t think I can finish this.”
“Oh goodness, my apologies. I didn’t mean to ruin your appetite. Please, finish your food. We can discuss this later.” Milton said quickly, realizing he might’ve overstepped his bounds.
Vance shook his head. “I’m full, actually.” He glanced around. “This town, or uh, city? It’s pretty cool. Is it like, fully working?”
The Governor nodded. “Yes. We all work together to keep this place working. There’s medical care, a school, even jobs. Everyone here is a cog that keeps this machine running.”
“Am I a cog?” Vance asked.
“If you’d like to be. I think you’d make a great addition to our community. Once you’re out of school, you could do good with that bow and arrow.”
“Out of school?” Vance furrowed his brow. “I have to go to school?” Vance crossed his fingers under the table that he wouldn’t have to wear khakis.
“Yes. All the kids here go to school until they turn sixteen. Once they’re sixteen they can start looking for jobs around the community.” The Governor explained.
Andrea hummed. “Well it looks like you’ve got a good thing going on here. A school, a community, even a police force of some kind.”
There’s a knock at the front door, and The Governor stood up. “Yes, we’ve worked hard for all this. It’s time for us to enjoy the fruits of our labor. Excuse me for a moment,” He left to go answer the door. He returned shortly, clasping his hands in front of him. “Sorry to cut this short, but Milton and I have business to attend to. You can–”
“We want our weapons, and we’d like to leave.” Michonne interrupted.
The Governor sighed. “I’m truly sorry we couldn’t convince you then. You can take these meals to go, and I’ll have my men get you your weapons. I just ask that you take your time. Maybe take in the place one last time before you make your decision.”
Vance stayed between Andrea and Michonne as they walked through the town. They’d toured most of the place, lingering around the school because Vance couldn’t help but stare at the other kids. He thought he’d recognized one of them. A friend of his from school. In disappointment he realized that it wasn’t his friend. Just someone who looked a lot like him. Andrea convinced Michonne to walk into the building, taking a look around the rooms they’d turned into classrooms. Vance liked the place, seeing all the art on the walls and the things lining the tables. The woman there, one of the teachers, explained that this was a science classroom. She lent Vance a textbook, saying that he’d need one when he started school there. Vance didn’t like textbooks all too much, but he took it anyway, not wanting to be disrespectful.
They stopped by an English classroom next. Not one of Vance’s best subjects. It wasn’t his fault. Some words were really weird to pronounce. Like bologna. And mischievous. Vance had always pronounced it as ‘miss-cheeve-e-us.’ Apparently it was pronounced ‘Mis-chiv-ous.’ It didn’t make too much sense to him for a word to be said differently than it was spelled. They gave Vance an English textbook, which was a lot smaller than the science one thankfully.
Vance managed to convince Andrea and Michonne to leave before they could get to a math classroom, but he was starting to regret that as the moment they went outside and started walking around again, the two women became very tense. Vance stayed quiet, holding his textbooks close to his chest as if someone would try and steal them from him. They didn’t seem to be walking anywhere in particular, just walking around the town and avoiding everyone. Or really- everyone seemed to be avoiding them. Vance remembered a saying his teacher had said once, ‘avoiding someone like the plague.’ He thought that fit the situation here fairly well.
“I don’t trust him.” Michonne said, breaking the tense silence.
“You don’t trust anyone.”
“I trust you.”
“So then trust me when I say just give this place some time. I think this is good for us. We can finally settle down and relax.” Andrea pressed, reaching out to grab Michonne’s hand. Michonne stepped to the side and avoided her.
“There is no settling down.” Michonne gritted out. “And I am plenty relaxed.”
“Are you? Because you were ready to snap when Milton started asking about your walkers. I had half a mind to take the fork and knife away from you before you could try and stab him.”
But not the spoon?
“It’s none of his business.”
“Who’s is it?” Andrea stopped, turning to stare at her. “Eight months, Mich. And I feel like you still don’t trust me. After everything we’ve been through you’re still so closed off. I’ve told you everything and you h–”
“I told you what you needed to know.” Michonne stopped her. “There is nothing more about me that I haven’t told you that you need to know.” Michonne looked down at Vance, holding her hand out. Vance didn’t hesitate to take her hand, following her as they walked away. Vance glanced back at Andrea, who didn’t even try chasing after them. The thought alone made Vance upset.
“Why are we leaving Andrea?” Vance asked quietly.
“She’s not seeing things as they are. She needs some time alone.”
The gates opened with a loud noise, but Michonne didn’t stop walking, not until they were near the buildings. People started to file out of their homes, approaching the cars pulling back into the settlement. Vance watched them form a crowd around the cars, all waiting to hear from the Governor who exited from the truck and climbed onto the truck bed.
“From the helicopter crash our men discovered yesterday, we discovered a military camp. We tracked it down and went out this morning, hoping to bring them back so they could join us here. However, the camp fell to biters. They did not have our walls, and were quickly overtaken. We attempted to save a few, but they’d been bitten and there was unfortunately nothing they could do.” He waited a few moments, letting the information sink in. “Now from this devastating news, there is good news. These men had trucks full of weapons, food, medicine, all the things that we needed. So let us honor these men and their sacrifice by putting these supplies to good use, and ensuring that this place remains safe so that the next time we find survivors, we can bring them here to join us in our little sanctuary.”
Vance looked up to Michonne. “That doesn’t sound right.” He said quietly. A military camp falling to a couple of guys with guns? In the movies Vance had seen it happen when the underdog team would complete the mission against all odds. But that was the movie.
“It’s not.” She replied. “Let’s go get your things.”
Vance sorted through the clothes, picking what would fit in his bag while Michonne watched to make sure that he wasn’t taking anything unnecessary. He could tell she was distracted though, as he’d shown her the same shirt twice. Vance sat down on the bed, waving his hand in front of her.
“Mhm. That one’s fine.”
Vance let out a huff. “Michonne!” He whined.
Michonne seemed to snap out of her thoughts. “What is it?”
“Why are we packing? Are we leaving?”
“Yes, we are.” She answered. She looked down at the clothes on the bed. “Are you almost done?”
“Well- almost but, are we leaving Andrea?”
Michonne shook her head. “Not if I can convince her to come with us.”
“Where are we going?” Vance asked.
“The coast. Water completely on one side, maybe we’ll find a boat.”
Vance grimaced. “Uhm. I kinda get a little motion sick. I don’t know if I can live on a boat.”
“Then we can find an island.” Michonne replied. She looked over at Vance, seeing the conflict written all over his face. She knelt down, taking his hands in her own. “We are going to get through this, all of us. Okay?”
Vance slowly nodded. “Okay.”
“Good. Now take out two jackets. That big aviator one you’re wearing is more than enough.” She said, standing up again.
“Where are you going?”
“To get the proof I need to convince Andrea to come back to us.” She started moving towards the door. “Stay here, work on that English textbook of yours. If I’m not back in time for dinner, eat without me, and go straight to bed. Got it?”
“Yes ma’am.”
“Good. Don’t let me catch you staying up late reading comics.”
Michonne didn’t return until the next day. When she entered the house Vance waited until she let out the quick two-note whistle. Vance left his room where he’d been reading some of the comics books in the house and moved into her room. “Where were you? I was worried.” He said, hurrying over to her and hugging her.
Michonne hugged him back before pulling away. “Get your things now. We’re leaving.”
“Already? Did you convince Andrea?”
“Convince me to what?” A voice said from the doorway.
Vance turned to see the blonde standing there. Michonne stepped over to her, shoving an empty backpack into her arms. “We’re leaving Woodsbury and going to the coast.”
“We are not going anywhere. Not until you start explaining a few things.” Andrea said, setting her backpack aside. “You’re scaring people, Mich. The people here are freaking out, and honestly you’re starting to freak me out too.”
“Listen to me carefully because this is the only thing I’m going to explain.” Michonne said, stepping over to Andrea. “The northeast wall is guarded by one girl. Once it gets dark, we can escape and make our way out.”
“Michonne, you sound crazy.” Andrea said, bringing her hands up. “I- honestly, do you even hear yourself? This is a good, safe place. We aren’t prisoners!”
“No one who comes here has ever left. The food, shelter, everything they’ve shown you? It’s all a lie. This is a prison, it just doesn’t look like one.” Michonne reached past Andrea and grabbed the backpack she set aside, holding it out to Vance without looking. “Pack her things. We need a few minutes alone to talk.”
Vance took the bag, moving to the room Andrea claimed. She seemed to agree with Michonne’s ideals, keeping her things fairly close together. Vance packed her clothes, unsure of what she wanted to keep and what she was giving up. He packed her a new pair of jeans and two new shirts, hoping that would be enough for her before he started packing the rest of her things. He picked up the packed bag in his arms, heading back to where Michonne and Andrea were. He hesitated for a few seconds, catching a snippet of their conversation.
“What do you mean he’s immune? Immune to what? Immune to the–”
“Just, immune. I can’t explain it here, someone could be listening. But we have to leave. If they catch wind of this somehow, that scientist will be all over Vance. You saw that look in his eyes when he was asking about the walkers we traveled with. Who knows what he’s doing in the privacy of his home.”
“Michonne that- that’s not likely. Human experiments? That sounds like something out of a comic book.”
“It’s been done before in the past. There’s no law stopping them from doing it again.”
The conversation went quiet, and Vance took that as his cue to enter the room. He opened the door, looking between the both of them and trying to look like he hadn’t heard what they were talking about.
Andrea looked down, seeing Vance holding the packed bag. She let out a sigh and reached down, ruffling his hair. “Thanks, kid. I’ll take it from here.” She said as she took the bag from him and pulled it on.
“Wait, you’re coming with us?” Vance asked, a new hope in his eyes.
“Yeah. I guess I am.” Andrea cast a glance at Michonne, who didn’t meet her eyes. “Come on kid, let’s get going.” She said, giving Vance a nudge.
Vance walked outside, leading the two towards the gate. He felt nervous. Like those seconds right before lightning struck. He looked around. The area was like a ghost town once it approached curfew. No one was around, already tucked away in their homes. Vance looked down at the ground, a little saddened by the idea of leaving the new bed he’d claimed as his. The hot shower and breakfast. Vance forced himself to keep walking. He trusted Michonne. Trusted her instincts. Those instincts were what kept them alive all this time.
“Hey! Where you folks off to so late?” Merle’s voice called, echoing in the empty town. “Come on, you can’t leave so suddenly. Not without a goodbye to your dear old Merle!”
Vance stopped in his tracks, turning to face the man. “Bye Merle.” He said, giving the man a wave.
“Aw, come on. That’s my goodbye? After everything?” Merle jogged over, stopping in front of the group. “Look I don’t mean to stop you, it’s just late. Let me arrange for an escort or something, help you guys get out through the main road without those biters trying to get at you.”
“We appreciate the sentiment. But we’re leaving.” Michonne said firmly. “We are free to go whenever we like, right?”
“Yeah, yeah. I’d just step back from the gate.” Merle said, moving back.
“Always a reason.” Michonne muttered to Andrea.
The gate creaked loudly, opening up for them. Vance turned back, glancing at Michonne to see what to do.
“You know what?” Merle said suddenly. “Close the gates.” He called back. “Look I practically begged the pretty boy to let you guys stay. I mean, Andrea, you and I go way back. Maybe we weren’t the best of friends but we stuck together, didn’t we?”
Andrea pressed her lips into a hard line, turning to Michonne. “Look it… I really think you should reconsider.”
“I’m not discussing this again.” Michonne shook her head. “Either you’re coming with us, or we’re leaving by ourselves.” She held out a hand, and Vance hurried over to her side to take it.
“Vance,” Andrea started. “Come on, you know you want to stay here. There’s kids your age. A school where you can learn. They even agreed to train you with your bow, remember? This isn’t a bad place. You know that you’re better off here than out there. With walkers on chains and sticks for breakfast.”
Vance turned away from Andrea, not wanting to hear her words. “This place isn’t home.” He mumbled. “It- it’s weird. And I don’t like it here.” He said, sounding petulant.
“You heard him.” Michonne said, starting to walk. “We’ve made our choice.”
“Did he make that choice himself or is he just following you everywhere?” Andrea called after them. “You know he would follow you to hell and back. Don’t do this to him, Michonne! That life isn’t for a little boy. He needs safety!”
Vance’s grip tightened on Michonne’s hand. He looked up at her. “I feel safe with you.” He said, hoping that it would be enough to reassure her. Michonne stayed quiet, continuing to walk. Vance looked at the path in front of them. He could hear walkers groaning in the distance. He stepped closer to Michonne. The gate slammed shut behind them, startling Vance. “We’re going to be okay.” He whispered, now trying to reassure himself.
“Good. Means that you’ll have something to fill your days with. Start the first chapter.”
Vance groaned. “What? I have to study on the road?”
“The Governor was right about one thing. You need your education.”
Vance grumbled. “Of course the only thing you agree about with the Governor is making me read a textbook.” He reluctantly let go of Michonne’s hand and set his backpack down, pulling out the science textbook. He pulled his backpack on and flipped through the pages, landing on chapter one. “What causes the moon to change in app-ear-ance and position in the sky? Doesn’t it seem as if the moon’s shape changes night after night? As the moon o-or- obits?”
“Orbits.”
“As the moon orbits the curved path of the cell- celi?”
“Celestial.”
“Do I have to read it out loud?”
“Yes. It’ll improve your speaking.”
“I talk just fine.”
“Yesterday morning when you showed me your new shirt you said he was the ‘most coolest’ spiderman.”
“And he is!”
Michonne continued to make him read until he finished learning about the moon cycle. Walkers had started to approach them, but Michonne let them, not yet killing them. They followed her at a slow pace, hobbling around. Michonne would quiz Vance on the moon cycle, making sure that he knew the difference between a waning gibbous and a first quarter.
They continued like this, talking about the moon cycle until she stopped him.. “Quiet.” She said slowly, turning around. Vance wanted to ask why, but a finger to his mouth stopped him. She looked around, as if hearing something he couldn’t. Vance could hear the walkers a few steps behind them groaning. He could even hear the ones far behind them, always having some kind of sense as to whether or not there were walkers around. But whatever caught her attention, he hadn’t noticed it. Michonne grabbed him suddenly, dragging him over to a large tree. “Climb onto my shoulders, and move to one of the higher branches. Stay there, don’t make yourself known.”
“What’s going on?” Vance whispered, moving behind her and hopping onto her back. He climbed up onto his shoulders before grabbing onto the tree and standing on the top of its trunk.
“We’re being followed.” She said, “Go. Higher.”
Vance obeyed, climbing onto a taller branch. He carefully laid down, trying to make himself as unnoticeable as possible. A little hard considering he wasn’t very tree-like, but he was high up. They wouldn’t be looking for a kid in a tree, right?
Michonne started moving leaves around, covering Vance’s tracks. She grabbed a walker and cut it’s head off, dropping it at the base of the tree he was in to hide the strange footprints around it. She sliced the last three that had been following them, letting them fall to the ground in a pile. She finally walked away, stopping and kicking up more dirt to make a more noticeable path before finally moving over to a tree a few yards away. Vance waited quietly, not moving an inch.
A few minutes later, whatever– or in this case whoever she had heard arrived. Perfect timing, as Vance could feel his foot starting to fall asleep.
“Look at that. Forest princess left us a little candy gram.” Merle said, kneeling down besides the bodies.
“How do you know for certain it's hers?” One of the other men asked.
“Well for one, she’s the only one out here. And two, look at those clean cuts.” Merle let out a whistle and stood up. “She’s here. Recently too, blood’s just started to pool.” Merle looked around, letting out another whistle, this one similar to a whistle used to call a stray animal. “Here kitty kitty kitty,” he called.
Vance hadn’t even noticed Michonne move until she leapt out from a bush, slicing the first man’s head off and stabbing the second. She ran off back into the bushes, but not before Merle fired off a shot. Vance gritted his teeth, immediately angered by the sight.
“Come on, don’t run off! We just want to talk, woman to bullet!” Merle called, chasing off after her with the remaining man.
Vance remained in the tree, knowing better than to go down and help. She had put him up there in that tree, and would return to him shortly. He heard groaning in the distance. A few of them were cut off suddenly. Vance turned to his right where the groans were coming from. Walkers were over there. Dying. He could hear yelling, but he couldn’t make out what they were saying. He waited quietly, hand inching towards his bow.
It took a few minutes, but Michonne finally returned to the tree. She huffed, leaning against the trunk. She let out Vance’s whistle, the familiar two notes. Vance climbed down from the branch, holding onto the tree as he leapt down. He grimaced, landing on the foot that was asleep.
“Did you twist it?” Michonne asked quietly.
Vance shook his head. “No, it’s just asleep.”
She let out a chuckle. “Of course.” With a groan, she pushed herself up off the trunk, limping. “I’m fine,” She said before he could ask. “We can’t afford to stop here.”
Vance looked down, seeing… “Is that..?”
“Dead people’s guts.”
“Oh gross.” Vance wrinkled his nose. “No wonder you stunk like one of them.”
“I’ll be sure to refrain from wearing this in the future.”
“What’s re-frane mean?”
“Refrain. It means to hold back from doing something.”
“Huh. Refrain.” Vance repeated, testing out the word on his tongue. “Sounds cool.”
“Refrain. Abstain. Desist.”
“How do you know so many different words for refrain? Do you have like, a thesaurus or something in your head?” Vance asked, grabbing one of her arms and throwing it over his shoulder to help her walk.
Michonne leaned her weight on him. “I majored in creative writing in college.”
Vance looked up. “Wait really? I thought you said you majored in art history.”
“You can major in more than one thing.”
“Whoa. No wonder you know so much. You’re like, super college smart.”
“Vance,”
“Yeah?”
“We need to be quiet.” She said, jerking her head in the direction of the walkers in the distance.
“Oh, right. Sorry.”
They walked with the walkers. Vance was surprised that they didn’t notice them, especially with Michonne’s wound. Usually Vance’s scent could only ward them off for a little while, then they’d catch onto whoever else he was with. Michonne had once told him that he didn’t smell like anything in particular. It was like he wasn’t even there. All she could smell was the trees and plants that would rub up against him. So his blank scent combined with the walker guts on Michonne allowed for them both to be invisible. Underneath the worry he felt about her still bleeding wound, Vance couldn’t help but admit that it was a little cool.
Up ahead, Vance spotted a gas station. He picked up the pace a little, cautious of Michonne’s wounds as she was starting to look a little pale. They arrived there in the parking lot. Vance was about to lead her inside when he heard voices. Without a word to each other, both Vance and Michonne moved to hide behind a car.
The voice of a woman and a man. They seemed to be… laughing? Laughter didn’t mean they were good people though. Merle had joked with Vance, and then he went and tried to hunt them down. Vance reached for his bow when Michonne grabbed his arm, stopping him.
“Stay hidden.” She whispered. “They leave. Then we scavenge.”
Vance nodded, letting go of his bow. He reached for his switchblade instead, keeping it in his hand just in case.
He could vaguely hear their conversation. Something about a duck? The woman urged the man to take the duck, talking about a kid growing up in… a prison? Vance reached up to brush his hair away from his ears. He could not be hearing that right. A kid growing up in a prison? They knocked over a few things before finally exiting the gas station. Vance peeked out from around the car, spotting them. The girl was tall, maybe in her twenties? She didn’t look like a teenager, but she wasn’t very old looking either. Her hair was in a short kind of bob. The guy next to her also looked around her age. They didn’t seem like bad guys. They looked fairly friendly.
“So where is it you folks are headed?” A familiar voice sounded.
Vance’s eyes widened and he immediately hid back behind the car. Merle?! Vance turned to Michonne, giving her a confused look. She only shook her head, motioning for him to come closer. Vance knelt closer, flicking open his switchblade and getting ready to protect her.
“Hey back up!” The woman exclaimed.
“Whoa whoa there sweetheart, I’m not any danger to you.” Merle chuckled. “I’m just looking to ask your friend here one little question.”
“You made it.’ The man whispered.
“Yeah, I did. But see the fact that I made it, doesn’t matter if my brother didn’t. So tell me, is my brother alive?”
The other man hesitated before answering. “Yeah, he’s alive.”
Merle let out a loud sigh of relief. “Man, now isn’t that the good news I’ve been waiting to hear. Now look, I really need to see him. You take me to him and I will forget all our history.”
“Just like that? Are you serious?”
“Look, my arm is jacked up and I’m just a little bit pissed off. But I need to know that my brother is alive. So just do me the biggest favor that one man can do to another,”
Vance heard Merle’s footsteps walking closer, and he tensed. A sudden scuffle was heard, and the woman let out a cry. “You’re going to get in the car. And follow my instructions to the t, or this little friend of yours gets it.”
“Don’t you dare hurt her.”
“Do as I say and I won’t have to. Come on pretty boy, get in the damn car. You’re driving.” It was quiet for a few moments. “I said move dammit!” The sounds of people walking and car doors opening and closing echoed in the quiet space. The engine roared to life, and they took off down the road. Vance peeked out from behind the car again, making sure they were long gone before turning to Michonne.
“I thought you killed him.” He said, standing up and looking around.
“I got away.” She answered, holding a hand up. Vance helped her to her feet, leading her over to the sidewalk in front of the gas station. She stopped by the basket, looking at the items inside. “Go check the store. Grab us some food, waters if you can find any, and don’t take too long.”
Vance nodded, headed inside the shop without another word. He hurried through the aisles, grabbing as many granolas as he could shove in his bag, making sure to grab all the peanut butter ones before finally meeting her back outside. She had grabbed the basket, and moved over to the road, waiting for him.
Vance hurried over. “What are you doing with the basket? We don’t need baby formula.”
“No. But their friends do.”
Vance furrowed his brow. “I don’t get it. Are we going to make a delivery?”
Michonne nodded. “If we want to get Andrea back, we’re going to need some help.”
Vance’s face brightened. “I knew we weren’t giving up on her. Let’s go!” He said, starting down the road at a brisk pace. He stopped after a couple seconds, remembering her injured state and turning back around. He moved back under her arm to support her, and started walking at a slower pace.
They eventually found the prison that the woman had mentioned earlier. Vance didn’t know what he was expecting. But he wasn’t expecting an actual prison. One that seemed to have a garden in the distance and a somewhat fortified chain-link fence. Walkers were clawing at it, trying to get in.
“Stay here.” Michonne said, letting go of Vance.
“What? No way! You’re injured, I can’t let you go over there like this.” Vance immediately refused. He started walking next to her again. Michonne looked like she wanted to argue, but she didn’t. She led him towards the gates, careful around the walkers. They weren’t reacting to her, which was good. Vance’s attention was drawn towards the prison.
A man was walking around, a baby in his arms. He didn’t seem to be too focused on anything until his gaze landed on them. He stared at them, and Vance could tell that he was looking at the basket Michonne was carrying. Vance let out a breath, happy that they’d gotten his attention.
He turned to Michonne, only for horror to wash over him as the walkers started turning towards her. “Watch out!” he said, moving over towards her. Michonne dropped the basket, grabbing her kitana and slicing its head off. The motion seemed to throw her off balance as she collapsed to the ground. Walkers started to surround them. “No- no! Get back!” Vance yelled, pushing the walkers away. He dropped to his knees, grabbing Michonne’s body and dragging her close to him, trying to mask her presence once more. It didn’t work as the walkers continued to bear down on them, grabbing at Vance to try and pull him away from her body so they could gain access to her. One of the walkers fell, crawling over to Michonne. Vance reached out and grabbed her arm, pulling it onto her lap before the walker could bite her. “Leave her alone!” Vance exclaimed, grabbing her fallen sword and stabbing it in the head.
Gunshots rang out and Vance dropped the sword, grabbing Michonne and bringing her close to his body to try and shield her. Walker's bodies started to drop one by one, and eventually things went quiet. Vance poked his head up, looking around to see all the fallen bodies decorating the floor. He pulled Michonne a little closer, trying to make sure that none of them were still alive and crawling towards her. He looked up towards the man who was approaching, with a young boy at his side.
“Please!” Vance called, desperate. “Please help her! She’s my best friend I- I don’t want her to die!”
The man hurried over, getting through a hole they’d tied up. He moved over to Vance, picking up Michonne and carrying her over his shoulders. Vance rubbed at his face, getting rid of the tears as the boy approached him.
“Are you bit?” The boy asked. “Scratched? Shot?”
Vance shook his head. “No. I’m fine.” He said on instinct. “Are you going to help my friend?”
“There’s a doctor here. He can help her.” The boy answered. “Are you coming, or are you going to wait for the rest of these walkers to come over and get you?”
Vance looked behind him, seeing the approaching walkers. He shakily climbed to his feet, following the boy inside the fence.
“I’m Carl.”
Vance looked up at the boy, actually seeing him for once. He wore a strange hat on his head. A weird gold rope around the base. Was it supposed to be a cowboy hat? It was really warped if it was. Seeing Carl’s weird stare, Vance realized that he was supposed to respond. “I’m Vance.” He said quietly. He looked up ahead where the man carrying Michonne disappeared into the building. Vance could feel his heart racing, hearing it pounding in his ears. He didn’t hear the rest of what Carl said. The other boy seemed to realize this, instead grabbing Vance’s sleeve and leading him further into the prison. The grey, towering building was intimidating. But for some reason, it felt less suffocating than the town of Woodsbury with its bright colors.
(UPDATED) KYRA (12) / YEAR 10 / “THE SEER”
STATUS:
Specialized prophetic consultant for field agents and higher ups who work on the Infinite Switchboard. Oversees apocalypse-related events in particular.
CONDITION:
A reliable key to work dealing with the timelines. Essential in the development of the Commission and a reliable employee enveloped in her work. Keeps an independent schedule per the demand of the employee.
ABILITIES:
PSYCHIC VISION:
- An all-seer. KYRA has demonstrated excellent control in clairvoyance, especially on tapping into her intuition to view premonitions of the future that affect the stability of the timeline. The power has developed to where NUMBER 12 can receive premonitions at will during waking hours and not just in the night. [Note from AJ: Visions can now be seen with concentration alone. However, premonitions are better aided with an object that might trigger the premonition to find her on its own.]
SPLIT ELEMENTAL CONTROL:
- Balanced use of fire and ice. Stamina before the skin reacts to overuse has been increased. Power activated in specific parts of the body for attacks are easier controlled than manifesting the element on the entire body at once.
DRAGON PARTS:
- Much improved flight time, soaring, and flexibility with prehensile tail. Spikes on tail can be used as a weapon against potential opponents. Time taken to extend wings and tail from the humps has been shortened to a satisfying record. Distance reached when using fire breathing has extended and the diameter of the flames have increased twice its original size when at the first stage of recovery.
DREAM WEAVING:
Versatile and well crafted in its use. Much more assurance when crossing dreams and creating new matter in the various subconsciouses she travels through.
AU introduction here
Checking on subjects vitals after failed experiment
[AUDIO TAPE WHIRRS TO LIFE]
[CLICK]
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS]: “It has been a total of twenty two hours since we’ve last seen Thirteen. In that time they have healed the damage done to the area between T7 and T12. Nurse Webber is currently standing next to Thirteen, and we will be checking on her range of motion. Thirteen, Nurse Webber, are you two ready?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “We’re ready.”
[NURSE WEBBER ASSISTS THIRTEEN OFF THE TABLE]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Good. Thirteen appears to be standing steady. Nurse Webber?”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Yes, Thirteen is standing with no assistance.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Thirteen, follow Nurse Webber to the wall and back please.”
[NURSE WEBBER GUIDES THIRTEEN IN WALKING TOWARDS THE WALL AND BACK]
[LOUD CRASH]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Dammit.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Thirteen are you alright?”
[THIRTEEN]: “I’m fine.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Nurse, assist Thirteen back onto the table.”
[SHUFFLING]
[DOCTOR WARRENS APPROACHES THIRTEEN AND BEGINS EXAMINING HER]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Alright, there seems to be no injury sustained from the fall. Your walking is a little unsteady, but can be fixed in time. We will return you to your cell, and visit you in three hours to see if it has improved. Guards.”
[GUARDS ENTER THE ROOM AND ESCORT THIRTEEN BACK TO HER CELL]
[SHUFFLING]
[DOCTOR WARRENS APPROACHES THE AUDIO RECORDER]
[CLICK]
[AUDIO RECORDING ENDS]
----------------------------------------
I sit silently on the cliff’s edge. I’m on a mountain, overlooking the rest of the land. I feel tranquil there. So calm until I hear footsteps, then it occurs to me. I turned around, seeing her standing there again.
“Twelve.” I greeted her.
“I go by a different name now.”
I tilted my head. “Experiments don’t get names.”
“We’re not experiments anymore, Thirteen.”
I stayed silent.
“My name is Kyra.”
The name was new, different. It suited her. Not like Twelve did. Twelve was a label, not a name.
“Kyra.” I repeated.
“That’s right. Do you have a name you like?”
“No. I’m just Thirteen.”
I could see that she knew it was futile, and she relented for now.
“I have an idea on how to figure out where you are.”
“I’m willing to try anything.”
“How much do you know about dreams?”
“Just that I have them every night. Sometimes they’re scary. Sometimes they’re nice, like this.” I gestured out to the landscape.
“Dreams are attached to memories. Your subconscious. Sometimes something larger than that.” Twelve- no, Kyra. Kyra explained.
“I don’t remember having dreams about so many forests and beaches.”
“But when it was reading time, you always went for the books about nature. You liked looking at the pictures, I remember because you stole one of the pages and put it in your room. The one with the deer at the lake, right?”
I paused. “You remember that?”
Twel– Kyra, nodded. “Of course I do. You’re my little sister, Thirteen.”
“We’re not siblings. We’re experiments, we don’t have family members.”
“Come on now, don’t talk like that.”
“You’re right, I don’t know how much time we have. Dreams are attached to memories, where are you going with this?”
“I think I can figure out where you are by looking through your memories as dreams.”
“What?”
“You said that you dream every night, and that some nights are scary. That’s because you dream of being there, right? Wherever they have you.”
I nodded.
“Maybe if I walk around them with you, I can see something that’ll let me know where they have you.”
This story can either be taken as a spin off or a part two of the previous TWD installment, The Day Will Come When You Won't Be, linked here. This story uses elements from that one shot, so it's recommended that it be read before you read this one. Takes place around season 7 with changes to canon.
A/N: I forgot there was a Mikey in canon. The Mikey below is my own character.
General tags: TWD, mlm, slight angst, original character
Word count: 12, 492
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Vance and Carl were something. They never said it out loud. Not to anyone else. But in the privacy of Carl’s room, Vance knew that they were together. He knew when Carl would hold his hand under the cover of night. He knew when Carl would pull him aside in the middle of chores to find some private corner and share a kiss or two. And he knew in the crowded rooms when his eyes would wander only to find Carl already looking at him.
All of these things served to make Vance so conflicted when he went home at night. Despite these shared moments, something about how often they did those things in private gave him this feeling of shame. Like they had to hide their relationship from everyone else. In the back of his mind he knew a little communication would make everything much easier. He wouldn’t be pulling hay out of his clothes after Carl dragged him into the stables to kiss him before he went out on a run and doing the day old ‘he loves me, he loves me not.’ And he wouldn’t be in Enid’s room, asking her for help like he was now.
“I can’t just talk about it. It makes me look like the one who is ashamed of us.” Vance sighed, sitting down on her bed. He glanced over at the faded grey seal sitting on her pillows before bringing it over to his lap, brushing the faux fur out of its eyes.
Enid pulled out her desk chair, turning it over to face him. “Right. And letting him drag you off to corners and kiss you and then run away like an eight year old is easier than confronting how you feel?”
Vance gave her a half-hearted glare. “That’s different.”
“You go home and sit in bed thinking about it and when you don’t go home you come bother me about it.” Enid leaned back in her chair. “I think avoiding the problem is doing a lot more damage than actually tackling it.”
Vance let out a sigh, looking back down at the plushie on his lap. “So what should I do? Just confront him about how every time we move somewhere people can’t see us, it makes me feel like we have to hide?”
“Maybe don’t confront him. But the next time he drags you off somewhere, ask him before he can kiss you.”
“Why before?”
Enid raised an eyebrow. “Are you serious? Every time he kisses you, you get all dazed and bashful.”
“I do not!” Vance denied, feeling his face heat up.
“Yes you do!” Enid retorted. “Talking to you after Carl’s taken you up to the nearest tree is like talking to a wall! The other day I asked you if you had gone for dishwashing duty yet and you replied with, ‘oh no I don’t think there’s going to be any fish today cause no one’s gone to the lakes recently.”
“What? When did you ask me that?” Vance asked, furrowing his brow.
“Yesterday, Vance. Yesterday!”
Vance groaned and laid down on the bed. “Okay- okay, I’ve been a little scatterbrained recently.”
“Recently?” Before Vance could defend himself, Enid continued. “Vance, you’ve been like this ever since that night.”
At the reminder of that particular night, Vance shut up almost immediately. He let go of the plushie, hands moving to the bed to grab onto the sheets like he’d be thrown off balance if he didn’t hold onto something. “I don’t want to talk about that.” He said, forcing himself to try and stay calm. His throat was tight with emotion, eyes already starting to prick with tears he was fighting back.
“Well you’re going to have to. Dr. Emily has been asking for you.”
Vance looked up. “What did you tell her?”
“I told her that you weren’t doing anything tonight.”
“What?” Vance quickly set aside the seal plushie before standing up. “Why would you tell her that? You know I’ve been trying to avoid her.”
“Because you need to talk to someone who can actually help you process what you went through.” Enid explained, not yet getting up from her seat. “Not to say that I don’t want to help you. But I can’t give you the help you need.”
“I don’t need some doctor psychoanalyzing everything I do and why I do it.” Vance muttered, glancing at the door while he debated making a break for it.
“She doesn’t want to learn every single thing you’ve ever done and why you did it. She just wants to make sure that you’re okay after everything. Don’t keep her waiting. You’re not the only one avoiding her.” Enid walked over and picked up the seal plushie that Vance had set aside. “You can take Pan with you if he makes you more comfortable with talking about it.”
Vance hesitated for a few moments, not exactly fond of the idea of taking a plushie with him while he went to go sit in some plush chair and discuss his feelings. He pressed his lips into a thin line before reaching out and taking the seal from her. “I’ll bring him back tomorrow.”
“You better. And if he has a stain or is missing one more eye than usual, you are never going to hear the end of it.”
Vance looked down and studied the plushie. “Wait, how many eyes does he usually have?”
“It’s an odd number. Now go find Dr. Em before I drag you there myself.”
Vance reluctantly left Enid's house, knowing he was only prolonging the inevitable. He found himself in the library before he knew it, navigating towards the back where Dr. Emily had set up an office. The door was open, and she seemed to be doing a puzzle. Vance knocked twice on the open door, and the doctor looked genuinely surprised to see him.
“Vance.” She greeted him. “I was not expecting to have you in my office anytime soon.”
“Yeah. Uhm. Sorry about avoiding you for so long. Can I come in?”
“Sure. I’m in the middle of a puzzle if you’d like to join. I’m having a lot of difficulty with this flower field and I’ve heard that you’ve got quite the keen eye for spotting things.”
“Who told you that misinformation?” Vance asked, taking the seat across from her and looking down at the puzzle.
“Just something I’ve heard from the hunting team.” She answered. Dr. Em reached over to grab the top of the box and show Vance the stormy meadow image that the puzzle was meant to be. “See how some of the flowers blend together? At my age it’s a little hard to separate small shapes like that.”
Vance nodded in understanding. “Right, I get that.” He looked down at the flower field before taking a deep breath. “You want to talk about what happened that night, right?”
“I only want you to talk about it if you’re ready.” She replied. She set down the box and picked up a puzzle piece, holding it out to him. “Until then, feel free to come by my office and help me complete this thousand piece puzzle.”
“And what if we finish the puzzle before I’m ready to talk?”
“Then we will start a new one. But I don’t think we’re going to have to do that.”
“Why is that?”
“Because this is a thousand pieces and we have only one good pair of eyes between us both.” She smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m in no rush to get this done.”
Feeling a little more comfortable than he had been when he first entered, Vance returned the smile. He adjusted the seal on his lap, reaching over to start helping with the puzzle. The taps of the puzzle pieces on the wooden desk were calming. Vance enjoyed the soft ‘click’ when the puzzle pieces fell into place. The flowers were fairly easy to put together with the help of the image on the box. The flowers seemed to be the main focus of the puzzle, allowing him to put them together easily. However the stems seemed to be the most difficult part, as it wasn’t very easy to be able to separate each individual stem. However, Vance managed. Finding a few stems that were out of place that Dr. Em had placed, removing them and replacing it with the right piece.
“See?” Dr Em spoke up, breaking Vance’s focus. “I knew you had a keen eye for detail.”
Vance felt his face flush a little under her praise. “It’s nothing big, really. Just saw that they didn’t connect like they should’ve.” Vance cleared his throat, moving to change the subject. “Do you like doing puzzles a lot?”
“I enjoy doing them often.” Dr. Em confirmed. “They keep my mind sharp, which is important at my age.”
Vance nods, starting to feel a lot more at ease now than he was when he first entered the room. Vance scooted forward, setting Pan on the chair next to him so he could comfortably lean over the desk. They fell into another silence, but it wasn’t awkward at all. Vance’s eyes drifted around the room, noticing the books that the therapist surrounded herself with. Most of the books seemed to be on children's psyche. Vance glanced over at the therapist, who was seemingly too engrossed in the puzzle to notice his wandering eyes. Maybe Enid was right about talking to someone who would be able to help him. His nightmares weren’t getting any better. He’d like to be able to sleep at night without having to keep a candle open and his gun under his pillow.
Vance looked up from the puzzle, realizing that he’d spent almost an hour there working on the puzzle with her. Vance felt a little disappointed in the lack of progress that they’d made. Both with him not yet speaking about what happened, but also about the lack of progress they’d made on the puzzle.
Dr. Em seemed to catch onto how he felt, prompting her to speak up. “I like to take my time on puzzles. Rushing to complete them solely to complete them always leaves me feeling very dissatisfied.” Dr. Em leaned back, looking up at the clock as well. “I do have to clock out, however. It’s getting rather late.”
Vance nodded, feeling less disappointed with their lack of progress. “Yeah, the sun is going to go down soon and I have to hit the showers before they shut off the heating.”
“Ah, now that is a priority I can get behind.” Dr Em chuckled and stood up, dusting off her shirt. “We can pick this up tomorrow maybe. Assuming you’re free around lunchtime.”
Vance shook his head. “I’m actually going on a hunt around then. And then I have to help out with dinner so I won’t be able to then. Maybe the day after.”
“I suppose we’ll just have to see.” Dr Em turned off the lights as they left the library.
“I thought the library didn’t close until curfew.” Vance commented as they stepped outside.
“Unfortunately a few kids snuck in before I closed and started hot-boxing one of the old study rooms in the back. So now we close earlier than usual.” Dr. Em explained.
“Oh. That uh, sucks. Sorry to hear that.” Vance said, feeling a little guilty as he had once gone to one of those. It had been a while back and he decided it wasn’t for him after how sick he got afterwards. Vance looked out at the safe zone, taking in a deep breath. “I’ll see you around, Dr. Emily.”
“Hopefully so, Vance.”
With that, Dr. Em left Vance to head home. Vance lingered on the steps of the library for a few minutes, just looking out at the sun low in the sky. He used to watch sunsets. Liking the way the fading sunlight would make the sky look. But he couldn’t look at them with the same appreciation anymore. Sunsets were beginning to feel more like the end of day rather than the beginning of night. Not wanting to be caught in the dark, Vance turned and made his way back home. At the rate he was walking he’d make it there in about ten minutes. Just in time for a quick shower before he went to bed.
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
The next day, Vance got a few extra hours of sleep before grabbing his gear and headed out to meet the guys out by the fence. Micheal, one of his friends, greeted him. “Hey Van-Van.” He said, grabbing Vance by the shoulders and pulling him close to ruffle his hair.
Vance rolled his eyes and pulled away to fix his hair. “Hey Mikey. How many are we today?”
“Seven guys, with you we’re eight.” Mikey answered, leading him over to the truck where they were packing up the supplies.
“Eight? Nice number.” Vance noted, taking his backpack off and tossing it in the truck bed.
“It would've been nine but Joansie couldn’t join us. He pulled his shoulder and we can’t have any injured on hunts after what happened last time.”
Vance could see Mikey’s jaw clench in memory of how they’d nearly gotten overwhelmed by walkers while trying to save an injured member. Vance shook his head, quickly changing the subject before the mood could drop too far down. “So what are we looking out for today?”
Mikey looked over at the guys, doing a quick headcount. “With our numbers, Riley is thinking that we should try for some deer.” He hopped into the truck bed, pausing and looking up. “Is that the Grimes kid?”
Vance turned around so fast he nearly pulled something in his neck. He squinted in confusion when he didn’t see Carl anywhere, realization dawning on him when he heard Mikey laughing behind him. Vance turned to glare at him.
“Oh- so it’s true huh?” Mikey grinned, sitting down on the truck bed and resting his chin on his hand. “You and the Grimes kid have something going on?”
Vance rolled his eyes and grabbed the truck bed to close up as he was planning on riding inside the truck. “You mean like, friends coming to say bye before one of them takes off on a hunt?”
“Right, sure. Or maybe like a not so friendly friend coming to kiss you goodbye.” Mikey taunted.
Vance resisted the urge to roll his eyes again. “Haha, very funny dipshit. I’m not falling for that again.”
“Falling for what?’ A new, familiar voice asked.
Vance felt his stomach start to twist and he looked away from Mikey’s smug face to find Carl standing there. “Uhm. Nothing. Just Mikey playing a trick on me.” He said, turning to fully face Carl.
“Oh.” Carl nodded slowly. “Well uh, are you about to head out?”
“Yeah, we’re just about ready.” Vance confirmed.
“Can I borrow you for a minute?” Carl asked, glancing around at Mikey who, Vance knew even without looking, was making faces behind them.
“Yeah. I’ve got a minute.”
Carl led Vance behind one of the other unused trucks parked by the gate entry. “Taking off without saying bye?” Carl asked,
“I’ll be back soon. It’s not like I’m taking off for the weekend or anything. Just a quick trip out into the woods.” Vance said, brushing his hair out of his face.
“I know. I just thought it was something we did whenever one of us would leave. Unless you don’t want a kiss before you leave–”
“No! I mean- no I don’t, not want one. I do want one is what I meant.” Vance said, suddenly feeling like he should turn heel and run to the truck as fast as he could.
Carl tilted his hat up out of the way and reached out to grab Vance’s hand, pulling him closer. “You look like a mess.” He chuckled, reaching up to fix Vance’s hair that Mikey had messed up earlier. “Did you just wake up?”
“A half hour ago, yeah.” Vance admitted, subconsciously moving to fix his shirt. “In my defense, I was dressing for a hunt and not a photoshoot.”
“Right. Well that explains the Smokey Bear shirt.” Carl teased. “But it doesn’t explain why you’re wearing my flannel.”
Vance looked down to realize that he was in fact wearing Carl's green and black flannel. Vance looked away and brushed a hand through his hair– God he really needed to stop doing that. “I needed something darker colored and I saw it on my floor. Technically I should be asking you why it was in my room.”
“Vance!” Mikey called. “We’ve gotta get going.”
Carl moved closer and gave Vance a quick kiss. “I’ll see you when you get back?”
“Yeah.” Vance said, breathless. “We shouldn’t take too long.”
“Good. I’ll see you then.” Carl fixed his hat over his head and walked away.
Feeling a little dazed– dammit Enid! Vance made his way back over to the truck which had unfortunately filled up the seats on the inside. Vance climbed into the truck bed and sat down next to a very eager Mikey.
“Don’t.” Vance said weakly, knowing he would be unable to stop the inevitable jokes.
“I wasn’t going to say anything. I saw all I needed to see.” Mikey snickered. “Besides, I’ve kind of known.”
Vance looked up, face contorted in confusion. “What do you mean, you’ve known? Who told you? Enid?”
“What? Enid wouldn’t tell me the weather if we were standing outside in the rain.” Mikey turned over to the driver's side window and knocked on the window. “Hey, we’re all ready back here.” He called. The engine turned over and they started off. Mikey scooted closer to Vance, presumably using the sound of the engine to cover their conversation. “My sister Naya asked me if you two were dating, that’s how I knew. I didn’t see it at first. I thought you two had just started hanging out more. But then she told me all these things that I didn’t see and everything started falling into place.”
“What did Naya notice?” Vance asked quietly, glancing at the other guy in the truck bed with them who seemed to be preoccupied with the music in his headphones.
“Well, Naya said that her friend Teresa saw Carl drag you off in the middle of dish duty to look for some dish soap and when you guys came back after like ten minutes later you forgot the soap. And then her friend… well, I actually don’t remember her friends names but it was something with an A, she saw you wearing Carl’s hat. And then someone said something about some other thing.”
Vance raised an eyebrow at the last one. “Okay I get mixing up all the names. But someone said something about some other thing?”
“Oh come on, you cannot point a finger at me. We both know that when Naya starts talking about some new rumor neither of us listens. But seriously though, are you two… y’know. Together or…?”
Vance looked at the other guy in the truck and the guys on the inside, talking about… whatever they were talking about. “We are.” Vance said truthfully. “But don’t tell anyone about this, seriously. And if Naya asks you again, just tell her that you haven’t seen anything like that. Okay?”
“Are you worried about everyone finding out that you’re…” Mikey paused, trying to think of a way to say it without being rude. “On the other team?”
“No it- well, maybe. Look, I'm not keeping it super top secret. I’m just not going around and telling everyone. And I don’t want any rumors like that going around either. So just keep this between us.”
Mikey nodded. “No yeah, of course. And hey just so you know, I one hundred percent support you and what you and Carl have got going on.”
Vance looked up to meet Mikey’s eyes. “You serious?”
“Yeah. It’s the apocalypse, man. I’m more worried about getting eaten alive by one of those dead freaks to be worried about two dudes kissing.” Mikey said, making a finger gun sign and pointing it at one of the walkers on the side of the road as they drove by.
Vance let out a snort and leaned his head back on the truck. “Yeah that- that makes a lot of sense actually.”
“Now all that out of the way,” Mikey grabbed his thermos, taking a sip and holding it out to Vance. “You want some coffee? You look a little tired.”
Vance shook his head. “Maybe not right now. Coffee makes me jumpy and I’d rather not scare off the deer.”
“Right, right. You’re not a heavy coffee drinker.” Mikey recalls, taking another sip from his thermos.
“I don’t know why you like drinking that bitter stuff so much.” Vance said, leaning his head over to face Mikey. “Are you trying to seem older?”
“More like trying to build up a taste for it. The girl I’m talking to likes this stuff so, I thought I’d give it a try to see what she likes about it.”
“Wow. That’s actually, really thoughtful of you. Points to you, Mikey G.” Vance reached over and knocked Mikey on his shoulder. “Is it working?”
“Yeah. When she found out she invited me over and made me a cup of her favorite kind of coffee.” Mikey closed his thermos, putting it back in the pocket on the side of his backpack. “Maybe you could do that with your… person.” Mikey said, giving a glance to make sure they weren’t being overheard.
Vance appreciated the discretion, and the advice. “Well I mean, we read comics together.”
“What else do you two do?”
Vance paused and thought back to the times he and Carl were together. “Well uh. That’s most of what we do. We talk about comics and read them. Sometimes I help him watch Judith.”
“Maybe that’ll help your problem. Find something new to do together. Something that’s not just reading comics and having tea parties with his little sister.”
“There’s not too much to do in the safe zone.” Vance pointed out. At least, nothing that didn’t involve going out and risking being seen in public. This didn’t sit well with Vance, as he didn’t like being forced to hide. But the risk of being the subject of other people's judgement, something that would really suck in such a small community that had barely started accepting his slightly unruly self.
“Looks like we're almost here so, how about after the hunt I’ll show you some spots around the safe zone that you two could go to?”
Vance looked up at Mikey. “You’d be willing to give up your make out spots?”
“Well not the best ones obviously. But I’ll show you a few. I owe you for last time so consider this my payment.”
The truck moved off the road and a little into the forest, hiding themselves from anyone who might be driving down the main road. The conversation essentially cut short, Vance grabbed his backpack from the truck bed and pulled it on.
“Alright guys,” Riley called as he climbed out of the driver’s side. “You know the drill. Don’t leave anything in the truck. If anyone finds the truck, it’s gotta look abandoned.”
A few sarcastic ‘yes sir’s filled the air as everyone grabbed their things out of the truck. Mikey hopped off, looking around. “Riley, what’s the plan? Gun’s or bow’s, solo’s or duo’s?”
“This area is secure so we’re using guns today. And we’re going in duo’s.” Riley informed him. “This is just a routine hunt, no need for us to have to cover so much ground. Pick your partners and get started– Ah, Marty you are not going with Finn. Last time you two got lost because you couldn’t stop arguing over Pokemon and Digimon.”
“It was all Marty’s fault.” Finn said as he climbed out of the truck bed.
“Pokemon is a timeless classic.” Marty huffed.
“Save it for the next unfortunate person who talks to you. Go with Jordan before I stick you with me.” Riley said before he could continue.
Mikey tossed an arm around Vance’s shoulders. “You and me buddy?”
Vance chuckled. “That’s never going to change.”
“You’re right about that. We’re like uh… Beavis and Butthead.”
Vance let out a groan, shoving Mikey away and reaching into the truck bed to grab his hunting rifle. “You couldn’t have thought of a better pair?”
“Okay uhmm. Hammond and Clarkson?” Mikey asked, following suit and grabbing his gun as well and checking it.
“Who?”
“Top Gear?”
“Never seen it.” Vance replied, grabbing the ammo and putting it in his cargo pocket, zipping it shut so it wouldn’t fall out.
“Oh come on, you’re joking. You have to be. It’s like one of the only good shows from the UK about cars.” Mikey said, slinging the rifle over his shoulder. “Alright if not Beavis and Butthead or Clarkson and Hammond, what about Batman and Robin?”
“Neither of us is Batman material and I refuse to wear shorts that small.”
“You can be Jason Todd’s Robin! He had pants. I think.”
“He also had shorts. But they were longer.”
“No, he had pants.”
“Tim Drake had pants.”
“Guys!” Riley called. “I don’t mean to interrupt this absolutely riveting conversation about which Robin wore the pants during their mentorship with Batman but, you’re scaring the deer away.”
“Right, right. We’ll go get them.” Mikey called. He leaned over to Vance. “Buzzkill.” He muttered quietly, drawing a chuckle out of Vance.
They spent about an hour and a half tracking the deer. Fortunately it didn’t take too long to find them. There had been a large herd, which made getting one easy enough. But once they got a deer, it scattered the rest. Mikey radioed to the rest about the direction most of them had gone, which fortunately was where Marty and Jordan were. Vance could only hope they’d bring something back. In the meantime, Vance and Mikey took to grabbing the deer and hauling it back to the truck. It took a while as they’d actually ventured quite deep into the woods. They got back to the truck, putting the deer in one of the empty crates.
“Hey, you know what you could do with the antlers once we cut them off?” Mikey asked as he secured the crate in the back.
Vance surveyed the area, making sure no one was sneaking up on them before replying. “What can I do with the antlers?”
“Make something cool out of it. The other day I saw Bryce walking around with a new knife handle. Apparently he’d carved it out of an antler from our last hunt. Looked pretty badass.”
Vance let out a hum, thinking it over. “Yeah. I guess I could.” He might be able to make a gift of some kind for Carl.
“Maybe you could make something for your person.” Mikey said, as if reading his mind. “Like a new handle for a knife or maybe a ring.”
“A ring? We haven’t been together that long.” Vance looked away from Mikey to do another check of the surrounding area.
“I meant like, something he could wear. It didn’t have to mean that.” Mikey chuckled, “Though it’s cute that you went straight to marriage."
“I- Dude all you said was I could make a ring for him. What else am I going to think when I hear ‘ring’?” Vance defended.
“I dunno. Birthday present? You’ll think of something. Now come on, we’ve gotta ge back out there before Riley turns his temper on us.” Mikey said, hopping out of the van.
Vance was washing the deer blood off his hands while Mikey checked their guns when Vance caught the blinking of the walkie talkie light. “Mikey, the walkie is going off.” He told the other male, drying his hands on his pants and putting away the water canteen.
Mikey reached down and turned up the walkie talkie volume.
“Jordan, Marty, you headed back to the truck?” Riley’s voice came over the walkie talkie.
“Yeah, we’re bringing the deer.” Jordan’s voice sounded.
“Stay there and wait for me. Do not do anything else.”
Mikey shared a confused look with Vance. He raised the walkie talkie back up to his mouth. “What’s going on? Is one of them hurt?”
“That you Mikey? No one is hurt, just a little mishap. I’m handling it.” Riley answered.
“Mishap?” Mikey glanced over at Vance. “Look we’re right here by the truck, just put away one. Do you want us to wait here for them?”
The radio was silent for a few minutes before turning back on. “Stay there. You’re in charge. Everyone else, put your radios back on silent and let’s finish the hunt.”
Mikey sighed and reluctantly switched the radio off. He looked pensive for a few seconds. Vance didn’t have to ask before he spoke up. “I don’t like the sound of that. Didn’t sound like a simple mishap.”
“All we can do is wait and find out.” Vance crossed his arms.
Mikey looked off to the side, spotting the others in the distance. “Looks like we don’t have to wait too long.” He muttered.
Marty and Jordan hurried over, carrying a deer in their arms. “Hey! Help a hunter out?” Marty called. Mikey moved over and helped carry the deer into the truck while Vance stayed behind, trying to see what the problem was. Nothing seemed bad except for the amount of blood on the deer body.
“I shot the deer, but I missed the marker.” Marty explained. “Jordan said that–”
“I told him that there was a huge chance that one of the organs ruptured. Riley said we needed to check but uh, Marty is far too squeamish and I can’t gut the deer without risking cutting something open which sort of defeats the whole trying to save the meat thing.” Jordan informed him.
“I’ve got it.” Vance said, taking off his flannel and handing it to Mikey. “Don’t let that get dirty.” he said, flicking open the holster on his side and pulling out his large knife.
“We shouldn’t cut it open here.” Mikey said, putting the flannel over his shoulder. “We should wait until we get home.”
Vance shook his head. “If the organs did rupture we have only two hours before the meat spoils, that includes the time for everyone to get back and load up and then head home. We need to get everything out to stop the spread, and rinse it. Do we still have the cooler up front?”
Jordan let out a groan. “The one for drinks?”
“Do you want to save the meat or not?” Vance retorted, shooting a firm look at Jordan. “Put whatever drinks are left into the second cooler that I know for sure you guys have up there and bring the rest of the ice into the big one.”
Vance adjusted the deer on the truck bed, checking that it was in fact dead before he started cutting it open. The process took a while, with Marty taking over when Vance got tired. Fortunately the meat wasn’t discolored, and smelled fine after they finished cleaning it.
Vance went off to the side and Mikey poured out some water from his canteen for him to wash his hands with. Vance finished washing his hands, taking out his blade and running it under the water to remove the blood before it dried. Mikey’s eyes caught the blade, and he looked up at Vance. “That’s some blade you got there. Where’d you get it?”
“This? It was my bro–...” Vance’s voice trailed off when he caught an eye on the handle of the blade. No, this wasn’t his brother's blade. That one had been stolen from him long ago. This… was his blade. Vance cleared his throat. “I actually don’t remember how I got this one. Think I must’ve gotten it off of a walker.” He quickly dried the blade on his jeans and shoved it back in its holster before he could see it for any longer. “I think we’re done with deer. Let’s check and see if we can find some smaller game. I think some people really liked the beef jerky snacks the kitchen cooked up last week.”
“Yeah, we can–”
“Guys report in.” Riley’s voice sounded through the walkie.
Mikey let out a sigh, reaching up to rub his face. “Can this day get any better?” He asked quietly.
“Just answer.” Vance muttered, drying his hands on his pants and reaching up to take his flannel back from Mikey’s shoulder, tossing it into the inside of the truck as his smokey bear shirt was now ruined, and he didn’t want to ruin Carls’ flannel either.
“This is Mikey with Vance, Jordan, and Marty.” He answered into the walkie.
“Mikey, we need another deer.” Riley said, skipping past any preamble. “Just got a message that Negan’s guys just passed through and they took quite a bit of food. Finn and Cooper are bringing back something. Syd and I are headed back too, we’ve got some smaller game. If you guys can score a deer in under an hour, that’d be great.”
Mikey turned to Vance. “Can we get a deer in an hour?”
Vance let out a sigh. “It’s unlikely but it’s worse if we don’t try. Leave Marty here to help receive the guys and keep an eye on the deer. You, me, and Jordan are going to try and track down that deer I nicked in the leg. He couldn’t have gone too far from where we shot him, it’s likely he’s bunkered down somewhere.”
Mikey sighed and accepted the task. They managed to track a deer down though, something Vance was grateful hadn’t taken too long, as hunts always left him with a lot of quiet waiting time, allowing his thoughts to wander. Just hearing Negan’s name reminded Vance of why he had been so desperate to get out of Alexandria when he first heard that the saviors were on their way. He couldn’t bear to see the man again after everything. And he knew Negan was just waiting for the day he’d run into Vance again. Nothing would bring him that fucked up satisfaction of being able to torment him again. A loud gunshot jostled Vance out of his thoughts and for a minute he thought that he was back on the gravel. Vance looked up to see that wasn’t the case. Mikey had shot down the deer. Mikey slung the gun over his shoulder, motioning for Vance to check the deer while he and Jordan made sure no walkers had heard the sounds and were approaching. Vance walked over to the deer, being careful of any old traps that may be in the leaves. He knelt down by the deer’s side. Vance pulled out his knife, kneeling down to the still breathing deer. Mikey had missed the mark by a few inches, only dazing the deer enough to keep him down. Vance tightened his grip on the knife and lifted it to finish the task before something changed.
“Vance?
Vance blinked and looked up, seeing Mikey staring at him in concern. “Is it dead?” He asked quietly. Vance looked back down at the deer, seeing it still breathing. His hands were shaking, the knife nearly falling out of his hands. Vance shook his head and stood up. “I can’t. You do it.” He muttered, shoving the blade into Mikey’s hands and walking back over to Jordan without another word. He could feel Mikey’s concerned gaze boring into him, but Vance didn’t look up.
Jordan and Mikey carried the deer back while Vance took their backpacks to lighten the load. No one spoke, though Mikey kept stumbling as he was too busy checking on Vance to watch where he was going. Eventually they made it back to the others, who were checking everything that they’d caught. They packed up the truck and waited a while, making sure that there was no chance of them bumping into the survivors on the way back before finally headed back to Alexandria. In total they racked up quite a bit, and it would hopefully feed everyone while also being able to be put away as rations.
Vance barely registered the drive home, busy thinking about what happened with the deer. They arrived back at camp, and Vance went to help unload everything before Mikey stopped him. Mikey pulled him aside, glancing over to make sure that they were far away from the others before he spoke.
“Go home, take a shower, and get some rest.” He said lowly. “I don’t know what happened out there today, but I don’t think you should be taking on anything else.”
Vance wanted to argue, but he knew that Mikey was right. “You’re sure that there’s nothing else I can help with?” He asked, hoping that there might be one last thing he could do to help out. Even if it was small.
Mikey shook his head. He held out the green flannel to Vance, which Vance didn’t recall him seeing grab when they’d gotten out of the truck. “Go home, try and salvage your shirt, and get some rest. You can make it up to me by taking care of yourself. And maybe some of that stash of coffee beans I know you’ve been hiding from me in your pantry.” Mikey gave him an attempt at a smile.
Vance gave him a small smile back, grateful for the attempt at cheering him up. “Alright, don’t push it Mikey. I still saved your ass from that little pig from the last hunt.”
“Okay for the last time, it was a wild boar, and I could’ve died!”
“Sure, sure. A bite sized boar.” Vance chuckled. He shook his head and took the green flannel from Mikey, running his fingers over the fabric. “Thanks. I owe you one.”
“Yeah, you do. Oh and here, before I forget.” Mikey handed Vance his knife back. “If you ever find anything like that, let me know. I’d kill to have it.” He grinned before walking back to the truck.
Vance palmed the blade, staring off at Mikey as he walked away. ‘No,’ He thought to himself. ‘No you wouldn’t.’ Vance ended up taking Mikey’s advice, heading home and grabbing a shower. He exited the shower, drying his hair when he spotted Carl’s flannel there on his bed, and next to it, a waiting Enid. Vance looked over to see the window partially open.
“Do you have Pan?” She asked, taking Vance completely off guard.
Vance furrowed his brow. “Pan? Yeah I- I think I have some in the kitchen.”
“What?” Enid gave him a confused look of her own. “Why are you keeping my plushie in your kitchen?”
“Oh- oh.” Vance looked around for the plushie– he didn’t know why he thought Enid was asking for bread, before finally remembering where Pan was. “Dammit, no I- I don’t have Pan actually. I think I left him in Dr. Em’s office.”
“What? Vance, you told me you’d bring him back with the same number of eyes as he had before.” Enid groaned.
“I know- I know it just- it slipped my mind.” Vance sighed and brushed his wet hair away from his face. “I can get him back tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? How am I going to sleep tonight without Pan?”
“The same way you did last night without him?”
Enid shook her head. “I didn’t sleep last night because you were supposed to return him.” She sighed and stood up. “Can you just go over to her office and get it?”
“Me? Why can’t you do it?” Vance asked.
“I’m not the one who lost him and promised that I’d bring him back.” Enid crossed her arms. “Besides, Mikey dropped off your backpack at my house and I need to give it back to you.”
“Why didn’t you bring it with you?”
“Because it was gross and smelled like deer carcass so I threw it in the wash and left it outside to dry.” Enid waved her hand. “Just grab Pan and meet me at my house in a half hour.”
“Not to be mister twenty questions, but why half an hour?”
“I’m estimating how long it’ll take for you to get to the library and then back to my house.”
Vance let out a sigh and leaned down to grab his shoes. “Fine, I’ll go get Pan.”
“Thanks.”
Vance made his way to the library, which only took about five minutes since he didn’t live too far from the main area of the town. It was around three, meaning that with some hope the library would still be open. Vance went inside, finding that the door was still open and the lights still on. He stood a few steps away from the therapist office. He could see the seal there inside, sitting on the chair. And even from this distance away, he could hear the familiar taps of puzzle pieces being moved. Taking a breath to steel his nerves, Vance walked over to the door and knocked twice.
Dr. Em looked up and smiled. “Vance! I’m surprised to see you today.” She said, standing up and smoothing over her shirt. She walked around the desk and held out a hand.
Vance reached out and shook her hand. “We had a good hunt today. That herd of deer we’d been tracking finally came back this way, so we got to come back early.”
“That’s good. So, what brings you here? Did you decide to continue from where we left off?” Dr. Em asked, moving back to sit behind her desk.
Vance shook his head. “No uh, I left this little guy here.” He reached over to the seat in front of him, grabbing the plush seal.
“Ah, I was going to ask you about that at our last meeting. Is he an emotional support friend of yours?”
Vance, for some reason, found himself taking a seat. “Yeah. He’s my emotional support.”
Dr. Em looked at Vance, a thoughtful look on her face. “Is there something on your mind, Vance?”
Vance looked down at the puzzle on the table. He wanted to deflect. To lie and say nothing was wrong. Take Pan and leave. But something kept him there. Maybe it was her gentle tone or the way that everything was starting to weigh on him. Vance gave Pan a squeeze before talking, his voice quiet even in the silent room. “Today during the hunt something weird happened. Mikey had shot down the deer he sent me over to make sure it was dead before we started taking it back.” Vance swallowed nervously, trying to get the words out before he could overthink it. “When I went to kill it, it’s like the deer just disappeared and… I was laying there.”
“You took the place of the deer? Was this a… visual hallucination of sorts?”
Vance nodded.
“What did you look like, laying there on the ground? Were you merely asleep or…?’
“When it changed, I saw me laying there just like I was the night of… that night.” Vance gave Pan another squeeze. “I was just covered in blood and I looked so… frail.”
“Why ‘frail’?”
“I guess because that’s how I felt that night? I- I don’t know.” Vance shook his head. “I wish I could say I didn’t remember too much but my brain likes to remind me of it every other night. How I felt laying there on the ground, waiting for him to just…” Vance trailed off.
“Waiting for him to do what?”
“To stop hurting me. To get bored of me and just toss me aside. Be done with me.”
Dr. Em nodded slowly. She reached forward on her desk, grabbing a bottle of water and moving it closer towards Vance. “In your dreams, what happens when you’re laying on the ground. Does Negan do as you ask and end the torment? Or does he make it continue?”
Vance took the water, taking a sip of it before he answered. “Most of the time he just stands there, smiling at me.”
“And the rest of the time?”
“He takes that bat, and swings.” Vance glanced down at his water. He opened it, taking another small sip.
“Do all your dreams of that night take place with you on the ground?”
“Not all of them. Sometimes I dream that…” Vance shook his head. “Did anyone tell you about what happened? With Mr. Grimes and me?”
“I cannot tell you who told me or what they told me. I am vaguely aware of what transpired that day. However, I’d like to hear it from you.”
Vance started slowly. “So you know about how I almost lost my arm?” When Dr. Em nodded, Vance continued. “In some of my dreams it’s not Negan standing over me. Sometimes I’m on the ground and sometimes I’m standing with my arm on the hood of the car. Mr. Grimes is there holding the axe. This time I’m not as… I guess accepting as I was before.”
“You accepted what was going to happen to you?” Dr. Em asked.
“I didn’t accept it like- like I was fine with what was going to happen. But I knew that it was going to happen, and I couldn’t stop it so I might as well accept it.”
“You believed that Rick was willing to cut off your arm.”
“It was easier than cutting off Carl’s.” Vance replied. “I mean, Negan said it himself. It’s easier cutting the arm off of someone else’s kid than your own.”
“And what happened that allowed you to keep the arm?”
“I uh…” Realization dawned on Vance. “I don’t know.”
Dr. Em tilted her head. “Did you block out what happened?”
“No no I- I closed my eyes when it happened. When I opened my eyes again all I saw was the axe stuck inside the bat.” Vance shifted in his seat, feeling uncertain of himself now.
“In your dreams, what does Rick do when he has the axe?”
“He cuts my arm off.”
“And where is Negan?”
“Right next to him.”
“And the baseball bat?”
“Its… not there.” Vance looked up at the therapist. “What does that mean?”
“I’m not well versed in dreams, but they are often said to represent unresolved feelings, anxieties, or hidden desires.”
Vance scrunched up his face in confusion. “What are you saying? That I wanted Mr. Grimes to cut my arm off? Or- or that I wanted Negan to kill me that night?”
“Of course you didn’t want those things. But in that moment when your emotions were at an all time high, all you wanted was for it to be over with. Maybe these dreams are your brain’s attempt to put an end to these feelings. To the fear surrounding that night by changing what happened to what you wanted to happen.”
“What I want is to never have gotten in that situation in the first place.” Vance gritted out, starting to feel a little defensive.
Dr. Em raised her hands in a placating manner. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply anything of the sort.” She set her hands down on the desk. “I can see that this is becoming a bit difficult to talk about, so we can go ahead and end this here so you can process everything. I’d like to see you again soon. I know you might not want to discuss this again, but continuing to avoid those feelings may cause another incident like what happened today on your hunt.”
Vance stood up, this time making sure that Pan was with him. He wasn’t very fond of the idea of going back and talking, but the idea of something like what happened this morning happening again was a little worse than talking about nightmares or even that night. Vance nodded slowly. “I’ll come back.”
“Around what time?”
Vance looked up at the clock. “Three, if that’s okay with you.”
“I am available then. May I walk you out?”
Vance shook his head. “I can walk myself. Goodnight, Dr. Emily.”
Vance walked back to Enid’s house, dropping off Pan and grabbing his backpack so he could head home. He didn’t spend too long there, wanting to try and get some sleep if he could. But the things that Dr. Em brought up kept floating around in his head. His dreams. Mr. Grimes cutting off his arm. Negan laughing at him, much more distorted than he remembered it. Vance climbed up out of bed, nearly tripping over something as it clattered to the floor. Vance leaned down. In the moonlight that flitted through his bedroom window, he spotted a deer antler wrapped up in Carl’s flannel. Had Mikey cut him a piece and left it in there for him? Vance picked up both the flannel and the antler. He set the deer antler on his nightstand before pulling on Carl’s flannel. Vance grabbed the collar, bringing it to his face. The thought of what he was doing was embarrassing, but he couldn’t stop himself. The scent of Carl lingered on the jacket. Vance could smell the boy’s pine soap and… Vance let out a quiet laugh. He knew Carl had stolen his shampoo. The vanilla scented one that Carl swore he would never touch. Carl would hear about this from him tomorrow. But for now, Vance laid back down in bed, keeping the flannel close to his face. The lingering body heat from where he’d laid down previously combined with the scent of Carl from the flannel was comforting. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend that Carl was there next to him, keeping the nightmares at bay.
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
The next day in the morning, Vance was getting ready to head over to the cafeteria. He felt guilty for not being there to help with the deer, and he wanted to make up for it by helping out with the dishes. A chore that seemed almost endless. Vance didn’t mind it however. It kept his hands busy and he could listen in on everything going on in the safe zone. Despite what Mikey had said yesterday about tuning Naya out, Vance liked knowing what was going on.
Vance grabbed his music player, something that Riley had fixed up and given to him after Vance’s first successful hunt, and headed out. He had his usual rotation of music. Mostly Elliot Smith and Jeff Buckley. Vance didn’t complain about the music available, not when music was a rarity in the time they lived in now.
Vance arrived at the cafeteria, headed past the tables and towards the back when he bumped into… Maggie. Vance took a step back, looking up at Maggie. “Morning, Maggie.” He said, taking his headphones off.
“Morning, Vance.” Maggie gave him a smile. “Hey uh, do you have a minute to talk?”
“I uh, was on my way to do dishes right now. I owe Mikey and Jordan a favor.” Vance said, hoping she would let him go do that.
“That’s perfect, actually. I need some help taking stock of what’s left and I can’t do too much right now.” She gestured to her stomach, which Vance noted she should likely be on bed rest by now. “Could you spare a few minutes?”
Not having any other good reason to avoid helping, Vance reluctantly nodded. “Yeah, I can help out.”
“Good. It’ll give us a minute to catch up. The last time we talked was…”
“When I let Carl cut my hair and you had to help me before I ended up looking like Euegene with curly hair.” Vance interrupted.
Maggie let out a snort. “Oh that was a fond memory. But no, that wasn’t the last time we spoke.”
Vance let out a sigh. He opened the pantry door for her, following her inside the large room with tupperwares full of food. Or at least, they used to be full of food. Vance grimaced at the mess the saivors had made picking through the food. “I don’t really want to talk about what happened that night.” Vance said, starting to sound like a broken record. Had he really been saying it that often? He didn’t remember doing that recently. Or maybe he had.
“I know you don’t want to, but I have a lot to say.” Maggie reached out and placed a hand on Vance’s shoulder. “I never got a chance to thank you for what you did for Glenn.” She said quietly.
Vance shrugged her hand off his shoulder, taking a step back. “All I did was get Negan’s attention.”
“Vance, you saved his life. My life.” Maggie insisted. “If you didn’t get his attention he would’ve…” She trailed off. Maggie raised a hand to her stomach and Vance immediately noticed.
“Is everything okay with the baby?” Vance asked, worried.
Maggie held up a hand. “I’m fine.” She reassured him. “Glenn and I are going to Hilltop soon to make sure that everything's alright. I just wanted to thank you for what you did before we left.”
“I need to get checked out by the doctors up there. Plus… this town, as great as the people here are, the environment is not safe for us. Not after everything that happened and everything that is happening. I won’t have this baby if he’s coming by every other week, taking whatever he pleases."
Vance nodded in understanding. “Yeah, yeah I get that.” He looked over at the cans still on the ground before facing her again. “Maybe when this is all over you can come… visit?” Vance asked, having to stop himself from saying ‘come back.’
Maggie gave him a small smile, bringing him into a hug. “I’ll come visit you every chance I get, I promise.” She pressed a kiss to the top of his head.
Vance groaned. “Oh come on– Maggie.”
“What? Too old for a little forehead kiss now?” Maggie asked, pulling back a little.
“I’m almost eighteen now.” Vance quipped.
“Almost.” Maggie repeated. She reached up to ruffle his hair. “For now you’re still that little kid I caught stealing my granola bars back in the prison.”
“Okay first of all those were mine, everyone heard me call dibs on the peanut butter and chocolate granolas.” Vance muttered, crossing his arms.
“So you stole from me?”
“You stole it first. Doesn’t count.”
Maggie let out a quiet laugh. “Don’t ever change, Graham.” She reached over to brush his hair out of his face. She started to leave the pantry when Vance stopped her.
“Wait, didn’t you need to take count of the food?” Vance asked, confused.
“Nope. I took count yesterday. I was just making an excuse so we can talk. But if you do want to help, maybe you can clean up the mess in here.” Maggie grinned before leaving, keeping the pantry door propped open behind her.
Vance rolled his eyes, but went to work cleaning regardless. It didn’t take too long, and he was able to get the food back on the shelves before heading back into the kitchen to wash dishes. A few other people were there, including Naya. Naya was one of the people who worked in the kitchen. She took pride in cooking for everyone, feeling like it was her way of giving back to the community that took her in. Vance knew exactly how she felt, as him going out on runs and hunts was his way of giving back as well. He knew the group wasn’t the most welcome here, but they’d been let in regardless.
Vance left the kitchen a while later, intending to head out to the fields to see if the strawberries they’d planted had finally bloomed so they could have them for lunch in a bit. He was stopped however, grabbed by an unfamiliar hand and dragged off behind the building. Vance looked up to see one of the older boys named Bryce along with his two buddies. Finn who went on the hunt with Vance today and… Jessie? Vance didn’t know the ginger too well. He’d only ever seen him around, and spoke to him once.
“Hey guys,” Vance said slowly, confused as to why they were dragging him off. “What’s going on?”
“Hey! We’ll ask the questions here.” Bryce shoved Vance back into the building and Vance immediately knew that this wasn’t just them inviting him to hot box the study room again. And just for the record, he would’ve said no. “What the hell’s going on with you and Cyclops?” Byrce asked him, practically spitting out the question.
Vance frowned, reaching up to wipe the drop of spittle on his cheek. “First of all, his name is Carl. And second, nothing is going on but what the hell is it to you?”
“So something is going on with you two.” Bryce sneered. “I should’ve known that as soon as we let you freaks inside you’d bring something with you.”
Finn looked around. “Bryce you can’t do this.”
“Shut up Finnley. Everyone else has been letting this happen. It’s up to us to put a stop to it.”
“Bryce, they're not bothering anyone.” Finn repeated, grabbing Bryce's shoulder and trying to pull him away from Vance.
“Yeah, not now while they’re still in the damn closet. But once they start thinking that everyone’s okay with it they’re going to stop hiding it.” Bryce muttered. He cracked his knuckles. “If you didn’t want this to happen you shouldn’t have told me what you heard. Now you can either help me deal with this problem, or you’re next.” He turned to Jessie, who was paler than usual. “You got anything to say?”
Bryce nodded. “You’re damn right. Now grab his arms and hold him back.” He jerked his head over to Vance.
Finn glanced over at Vance, visibly conflicted. He and Jessie both reluctantly grabbed Vance’s arms, who didn’t bother trying to fight them off. Bryce was older than he was. And with Jessie and Finn, Vance didn’t have a very good chance at getting out of there. Vance looked up, meeting Bryce's eyes. “Scared of a couple of guys kissing outside your window, Bryce?” Vance taunted. Bryce only glared at Vance before aiming a fist at his side. Vance gritted his teeth, stopping himself from making any noise. There went his plans of having lunch.
“Shut up, Vance. You think you’re so funny, huh? We’ll see who’s laughing when I’m through with you.” He hissed, punching Vance’s side again.
Vance grunted. For a second, he saw someone else in Bryce’s place. Someone wielding a familiar looking bat. Vance felt his next words catch in his throat.
Bryce grabbed Vance’s face, leaning closer. “Let’s see if Cyclops still wants to be around you when you’re all jacked up.” Bryce hissed before striking Vance in the stomach, causing Vance to double over and dry heave. Vance didn’t know what it was about his sides that seemed so appealing to punch or even kick. It was probably because he didn’t know how to properly block people from hitting there. But in his defense, both times that he’d been attacked like this, his arms were held behind his back.
Bryce hit Vance a few more times before he finally stepped back. Jessie and Finn let Vance go, and Vance fell to the ground.
“Don’t let me hear about this shit again if you know what’s good for you.” Bryce spat, kicking some dirt on Vance before finally walking away, bringing Jessie and Finn with him.
Vance watched them go, staying on the ground for a few minutes. ‘Right, good people here. What a joke.’ He thought, laying his head back on the ground and looking up at the sky. He was starting to get a little too used to the sight of the sky from the ground. His side was killing him. Vance reached up to feel a cut across his face from where Bryce hit him. Not the best look for him, but he’d been through worse. Vance forced himself up to his feet, leaning on the wall while the world threatened to spin.
Vance thanked the stars above that the med-bay wasn’t far from where he was headed. He would’ve tried to go home to clean himself up, but seeing as he had to stop and take a few heavy breaths every few steps, he wasn’t in the best space to do that. It was just his luck however, that Enid was in the med-bay. Vance cursed his luck, and entered anyway.
Enid’s face immediately became one of concern, and she rushed over. “Vance! What the hell happened to you?”
“Had a little accident. Think you could…?” Vance gestured to the mess of his face.
“What did you- hit the ground with your face or something?” Enid asked, leading him over to one of the beds.
“Something like that.” Vance looked around, seeing everyone glancing over and looking away when he looked at them. Vance turned back to Enid. “I need to ask you something, but please keep your voice down.”
Enid looked around the room as well, moving a little closer to Vance so they wouldn't overhear."Uh.. alright. What is it?”
“You didn’t tell anyone about what we talked about the other night, right? About… Carl?”
Enid shook her head, taking a cleaning wipe and starting to dab at the cut across Vance’s cheek. “I wouldn’t tell anyone.”
Vance sighed. “I knew it wasn’t you, I just had to be sure.”
“Wait, does this have something to do with Carl? Did he…?”
“No! No he- he would never do something like this.” Vance quickly shook his head. “He didn’t do this. I was asking because–”
“Someone found out about you and him?” She whispered.
Vance nodded. “They’re not exactly happy about it.”
“How did they find out?”
“Well apparently Naya has seen some things and told Mikey. He asked me yesterday, but he wouldn’t tell anyone either. I think someone might’ve overheard Naya and word spread.”
Enid sighed and grabbed a large bandaid, putting it over his wound. “So who did this to you?”
“Bryce and his little followers.” Vance sighed. “I didn’t think the guy was such a bigot but then again I didn’t actually know him.”
“Carl is going to flip when he finds out.” Enid muttered.
Vance reached out and grabbed Enid’s hand. “Don’t tell Carl.”
“What? Vance, you can’t hide this from him.”
“Enid it’s like you said. He’s going to flip out and it’s going to cause more problems than it solves.”
“And hiding it is better? Vance, everything comes out sooner or later. When Carl finds out that you’re hiding this from him, and he will, it’s going to be even worse than what you think will happen if you tell him.” Enid glanced at Vance. “Are you going to see Dr. Emily later?”
Slightly taken aback by the sudden change in topic, Vance took a moment to respond. “Yeah, I told her I’d swing by around three.” Vance checked his watch. “Still got an hour and a half before I gotta be there.”
“Good. Are you making progress?”
Vance shrugged. “Yesterday was the first day we actually talked about what happened. I kinda… got a little snippy with her. I wouldn’t really call that progress but, today we’re going to try and talk about it a little more. Why?”
Enid looked around the area again before moving to sit down next to Vance. “I’m leaving with Maggie for Hilltop.”
Vance blinked a few times. He reached up to tuck his hair behind his ear, not sure that he had heard her right. “You’re doing what?”
“Well Maggie is… she’s like family. I want to be there when the baby is born. But also i… I can’t stay here, Vance.” Enid fiddled with her bracelets. “Not with Negan and his men coming by. This place isn’t safe. The way they look at everyone. How they treat us.”
“It won’t be for long.” Vance tried to reason. “We can beat them, all of us. We just need–”
“Time.” Enid finished. “But we don’t know how much time it’ll take, and I think I’ve already had enough of this.”
Vance let out a slow breath and reached up to adjust his jacket. Neither of them spoke for a while, sitting in the quiet room. Enid glanced up at Vance. “That’s why I was pushing you to talk to Dr. Emily. You need someone to talk to about everything that’s going on, and I wasn’t going to be around anymore.”
Vance messed with the buttons of his flannel. “I can’t convince you to stay, can I?”
“No. I’m sorry.”
Vance shook his head. “No, I get it. I’d leave too if I could.”
Enid didn’t ask why he couldn’t. Instead, she grabbed a bandaid. “After the saviors took half our things, there’s not much left that we can afford to give out. So unfortunately this is all I can give you until they figure out what injury deserves what.”
“It’s okay, I should get going anyways.” Vance shrugged, beginning to get up.
“Well wait here. I need to call a nurse to actually check up on you.”
── ⋆⋅𖤓⋅⋆ ──
After about twenty minutes Vance was discharged. He would’ve been out sooner, but he didn’t want to explain the bruises and then let everyone in town know he was the victim of a hate crime. The nurses talked, and he wasn’t ready to have that conversation with anyone. Vance kept behind the buildings, not wanting to bump into people on the main paths. Vance made his way to his house, grabbing his key to open the door when he paused. Something felt a little off. Vance reached for the doorknob, finding it open. Weird because he usually locked it. Not all the guys could be trusted around here. Vance pulled out his knife, keeping it low. Times like this Vance wished he could carry around his gun. After the saviors took their weapons, other than the ones they used to hunt of course since they weren’t there during the raid, Vance had to be careful where he brought his gun. Smaller weapons like this were all he could carry.
Vance quietly entered the house, avoiding all the creaks and noisy spots on the floor. He moved quickly through the living room and into the kitchen. Nothing there. He checked the closet under the stairs and the bathroom, but nothing was there either. Vance was about to brush it off as he forgot to lock the door this morning due to how scatterbrained he’d been lately, when a noise sounded upstairs in his room. Vance quickly made his way up the stairs, pressing himself against the wall next to his door. Vance took a steadying breath before entering his room, lifting his knife only to find Carl sitting on his bed, gun raised.
They both stared at each other for a minute before lowering their weapons.
“You’re jumpy.” Carl commented, holstering his gun.
“I thought someone broke in.”
“Who wants to break into your house?”
“I- I don’t know. One of the guys?”
“What could you possibly have in here that you don’t want stolen? Your George Buckley CD?”
“It’s Jeff Buckley and yes, people would love to have it.” Vance huffed and put away his knife, walking further into his room. “It’s the Grace album.”
“Oh wow, the Grace album. Now I want to steal it too.” Carl snorted.
Vance rolled his eyes and moved over to sit on the bed. “Did you sneak out of garden duty to come tease me about my CD collection?”
Carl leaned on Vance’s shoulder. “No, I came to check on you.”
Vance let out a sigh. “Enid told you?”
“Heard it from Naya.”
“How the hell does she know? This happened not even half an hour ago.”
Carl looked up. “What happened half an hour ago?”
Vance reached up to rub his face. “Uh, so you weren’t going to ask about Bryce and his buddies?”
“I wasn’t but I am now.” Carl stood up, moving over to Vance and grabbing the loop of his jeans and pulling him closer. He was always doing that. Moving Vance around without asking. Not that Vance minded. “Did that happen on the hunt, or half an hour ago?” Carl asked, reaching one hand up to brush Vance’s hair from out of his face and gently touching the bandage. The easiest thing now would be to take the easy way out. To lie and say yes, it happened on the hunt. But Carl caught onto Vance’s hesitation immediately. “It wasn’t from the hunt?” He asked, though it sounded more like a statement.
Vance swallowed nervously and shook his head. “No, not from the hunt. It was half an hour ago.”
“Was it the guys?” Carl asked. “I heard that Marty was a little pissed over what happened but–”
“Wait what?” Vance furrowed his brow. Marty hadn’t been there when this happened. “What are you talking about?”
“Well first I heard about what happened with Marty and that deer. But then I heard Marty was pissed off that he’d gotten in so much trouble for it when you… froze up.” Carl took Vance’s hand and led him over to the bed. “Did Marty and Finn get on you over it?”
“Not Marty, I haven’t heard from him.”
“Not Marty. But Finn?” Carl asked, sitting down.
Vance sighed and rubbed his face. “Finn and some guys. They weren’t talking about the hunt. Some other stuff I’d upset them over. I’m fine though. Doc said I can’t do a lot of physical activity for a few days.”
“For a cut on your face?” Carl furrowed his brow.
Vance grimaced. “There’s a few bruises, nothing severe. They just don’t want me pushing myself.”
“Let me see.” Carl moved to grab at Vance’s shirt, but Vance quickly grabbed him and stopped him.
“Carl. I’m fine.” Vance tried to reassure him.
“Vance, you’re not fine.” Carl said adamantly.
“How do you know that?”
“Because you suck at lying.”
“I do not.”
“Vance everytime you lie you can barely meet my eyes.”
“Eye.” Vance muttered quietly.
“What?”
“I said I… think you’re right. I uh. Just can’t lie to you.” Vance said awkwardly. Vance rubbed his face. “Look just uh, don’t get mad, alright? I’m over it, and it really doesn’t bother me. I was just in the wrong place–”
“Vance.” Carl stopped him from rambling. “No more excuses. Tell me what happened.”
Vance took in a deep breath. “Finn’s older brother Bryce and his friend Jessie. They found out about us somehow. And Bryce in particular wasn’t too happy about it. So he wanted to send a message.” Vance gestured to his face.
“Bryce, Finn, and Jessie?”
Vance recognized the tone almost immediately. The one where Carl’s voice was far too steady, almost monotone in its delivery. Vance reached out and grabbed his hand. “Don’t do anything crazy.” He warned him. “Most of the people here blame our group for bringing Negan and his whole mess over here. If we start causing trouble in the community it’ll be that much harder to rally them against him when they’re busy trying to get at us.” Carl looked conflicted at Vance’s words.. “I’m fine. I’ll start walking around with someone. Maybe Mikey or Naya. I’ll stay away from Bryce and his buddies. Then once this whole thing is over, then we can try and address this. But for now we just gotta…”
“Keep us hidden.” Carl finished the thought for him.
“Yeah. Keep us hidden.” Vance nodded slowly, watching Carl’s face to try and gauge his reaction.
Carl looked down at their joined hands. “Maybe that’s what you think is best. But I don’t agree with that. I’m not going to hide us just because a few guys have a stick up their ass about who people can date. And don’t try and justify them.” He said before Vance could speak up. “Do you agree with them?” When Vance shook his head, Carl continued. “Then screw Bryce and his friends. I don’t care about what they have to say about us.”
After a few moments of silence, Carl started to tug at Vance’s flannel. Vance glanced up at him. “What are you doing?”
“It’s dirty. I’m taking it back to wash it.”
“No- don’t.” Vance said, reaching up and grabbing Carl’s hand to stop him from taking it. “I uh… don’t have any other jackets to wear.” He lied, not wanting to get rid of the flannel just yet.
Carl either believed Vance, or caught on to what he really wanted. He shrugged off the blue flannel he was wearing, holding it out to Vance. “You can hold on to this one for now.”
At the prospect of having another of Carl’s flannel, Vance didn’t hesitate to discard the one he was wearing. He took the new one, trying to look as casual as possible despite how he really felt about it. A thought occurred to him as he pulled on the new flannel. “You did use my shampoo the last time you were here.” He said suddenly.
Carl looked caught off guard. “What are you talking about?”
“The last time you were here I made you take a shower because you smelled like the fields. I asked you if you’d used my shampoo, and you told me you didn’t use it.” Vance crossed his arms. “But you lied.”
“Oh yeah? How’d you figure that out?” Carl raised an eyebrow.
“I–” Vance stopped himself. “I… just know.”
“You wouldn’t accuse me without knowing.” Carl leaned forward. “What’s your evidence?”
“No evidence, just uh. Gut feeling.”
“Right, because you have such a keen gut feeling.”
The familiar banter and smug smile on Carl’s face brought a genuine smile to Vance’s face. For the first time since that night he got a feeling that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to be alright. This time Vance was the one to reach out, wrapping his arms around Carl’s shoulders and pulling him into a hug.
Carl wrapped his arms around Vance without a second thought. “Are you okay?” Carl asked, concern lacing his voice.
Vance let out a sigh, his breath brushing through Carl’s hair. “Yeah, I think I will be.”
[DR WARRENS BEGINS]: “Today we are going to be inducing paraplegia in subject Thirteen.”
[NURSE WEBBER}: “We have decided to go with complete injury rather than incomplete injury, in order to see how long it takes to fully regain control of their lower body.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Yes. Thirteen is currently face down with their spine exposed to us. Nurse Webber will be inducing an injury between spinal nerves T7 and T12 as opposed to T1 and T6, as we don’t want any complications with Thirteen’s breathing.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Should I give Thirteen the anesthesia now?”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Well let’s ask her.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS WALKS OVER TO WHERE THIRTEEN’S FACE IS ON THE TABLE]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Thirteen, the procedure you’re about to undergo is very painful. Would you like some anesthesia?”
[THIRTEEN]: “No. No anesthesia. No drugs.”
[SILENCE]
[NURSE WEBBER]: “A-are you sure? It’s extremely painful. We can’t promise–”
[THIRTEEN]: “I don’t want anything.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Alright. At least bite down on this, to prevent you from hurting yourself.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS PLACES A LARGE STRIP OF SOFT LEATHER INTO THIRTEENS MOUTH]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Nurse? Begin the procedure.”
[NURSE WEBBER NODS]
[SHUFFLING]
[METAL TOUCHES SOMETHING SOLID]
[SICKENING CRACK]
[SCREAMING]
[AUDIO DISTORTS]
[THE SCREAMING GETS LOUDER]
[LOUD SNAP]
[AUDIO CUTS OUT]
.
.
.
[AUDIO RETURNS]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Despite losing the ability to move everything below her waist, she fought back very violently.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Dr. Warrens and I have survived the encounter, with only a few scratches. It’s more than likely the only reason we survived was because Thirteen could not move their legs, and thus couldn’t escape the restraints.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Unfortunately because Thirteen has somehow managed to sever her spine during the struggle, we cannot properly run our tests to see the regeneration effects on paralysis until she returns to life. If she manages to return. Thus this test will be marked a failure, and we will attempt this the day after tomorrow.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “I’ve taken the liberty of sewing thirteen up and fitting her with a brace to keep her spine aligned while her body tries to fix the damage.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “It’s my professional opinion that we turn down the power dampening on her collar in order to allow her to heal herself, as this injury is severe and we do not want a repeat of Incident 8.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “With that, this report is concluded and we deem it a failure. Thirteen will be returned to her cell now.”
[CLICK]
[AUDIO RECORDING ENDS]
----------------------------------------
I did not want the drugs.
What if I didn’t dream?
What if I couldn’t see her again?
I couldn’t risk it.
I fell into a long slumber. But I did not dream, until much much later. That is when I saw her again.
She’s still a shadow, but I can make out more of her silhouette. I see dragon like wings and a tail. I see her long hair blowing in the wind. And she’s wearing… a suit I think. I don’t dwell on anything because I don’t have the time to. I don’t want to be taken away from her again.
“Twelve.”
I look away from the beach. I’m tired of watching the sunrise anyways. If all goes right, I’ll be seeing one in person pretty soon.
“It’s really you.”
The shadow figure nods, and this time I hear her words underneath the weird droning.
“Hi, Thirteen.”
I let out a sigh of relief, worried that her presence in my dream was just a creation of my mind, and not her actually coming to visit me.
“Where are you?”
“Not far from you, I imagine. Have you heard of ‘the Commission’ before?”
The wind suddenly picked up and the sky darkened. From where I was sitting on the beach, the tide rose up to my waist and I could feel the waves hitting my back. My legs felt strange, under the water, I couldn’t move them. If the tide kept rising, no doubt I’d drown.
“Yes.” I said flatly. “I know who they are.”
Twelve looked up at the sky, and I could see her nerves regarding how stable the dream was. “Well,” She spoke slowly, treading carefully. “I kind of work for them. But not really!” She added quickly, seeing lightning flash in the distance.
“What do you mean, not really?” I asked.
“I’m only working with them to find you and Eight.”
“Eight’s alive?” The tide lowered, staying just above my lap.
“Yeah, I’m close to finding her. Closer now that I’ve found you.”
“Closer how?”
“Well, now you can help me. We can work together.”
“No I can’t.”
I could see the confusion written on her face, despite the shadows still hiding her from me.
“Why not? What’s wrong?”
I reached up to my neck and felt where the metal collar was.
“I’m trapped. Down here I can’t use my powers.”
“Hmm. Trapped where?”
“If I knew, don't you think I’d tell you?” I snipped.
I heard a chuckle and I looked up, surprised. She’s laughing?
“You haven’t changed that much. It’s nice. Look, don’t get too frustrated. Now that I know we’re all still alive, and we’re able to talk, I can try to get to you.”
“How are you going to get to me? I don’t know where I am. As terrible as they are, they’re good at hiding things.” I grumbled.
“Not as good as me.” Twelve responded calmly.
“You say that but it’s taken you this long to even discover me.” I winced at how harsh my words were, but it was true. I’d been stuck there for so long, I’d nearly lost all hope.
Twelve let out a sigh. Riddled with effort, it echoed across the trees that were shifting around them.
“I know. I’m sorry you’ve had to stay here alone. But I have been working this entire time
I bit back a retort, not wanting to upset her.
“It’s fine. You’re here now right?”
Despite everything, I couldn’t keep the passive aggressiveness from my voice.
“Sorry,” I said quietly. “I uhm… I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just uh… I’ve been here a long time. It’s hard not to be upset.”
I looked out at the scenery as it began to dim. I was waking up. I turned back to her.
“You’ll be back tomorrow, right?” I asked, not bothering to hide how nervous I was.
Despite not being able to see her face, I knew twelve was smiling at me.
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS]: “As shown before, Thirteen's healing abilities are very advanced. Should we be able to crack how it works, we could potentially create some kind of healing tool for our agents.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “For now, we are continuing to test the limits of Thirteen's regeneration. Today we’ve taken the left arm of Thirteen, which according to the files with the diseased Agent Coronado, Thirteen was able to regenerate in roughly six hours. But not only have we taken the left arm, but also the right leg.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “My assumption is based on the size of the limb. Just as how the size of the organs also came into play with how fast they regenerated. Since the arm took roughly six hours, I believe the leg will take eight.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Really? I’ve been thinking that since her abilities seem to improve with every injury, that it’ll take less time. Not the same amount of time.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Only time will tell.”
[CLICK]
[AUDIO FAST FORWARDS]
[CLICK]
[AUDIO BEGINS]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Thirteen has fallen asleep. Not unusual. I recall reading in her files that exhaustion is a side effect of regeneration.”
[NURSE WEBBER]: “Her limbs have regenerated now. It’s been exactly seven hours and thirty-eight minutes for both. It seems my theory was correct, in that her healing abilities have seemed to improve from the last time an injury like this occurred.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Thirteen will be returned to her cell now.”
----------------------------------------
I saw her today, in my dream. I’m sitting on the rock, not wanting to get my stumps in the water. My left leg, the only one I currently have, hangs off the edge and dips into the cool water of the lake. My right arm is resting on my lap, occasionally I reach up to feel the stump of my left arm. There isn’t a deer to keep me company as there usually is. Instead, something else emerges from the trees. I turn to look at them, but something's wrong. Even though they’re not covered by the shadows of the trees, I can’t see them. Their entire body is black, a dark silhouette despite the sunlight illuminating the scenery. For the first time in any of my dreams, I speak.
“Who are you?” My voice isn’t my own. But the voice of the little girl back in Sir’s lab. I look down, and suddenly I’m wearing that hospital down again. I have my limbs back, but they’re the limbs of a younger girl. I look back up. The shadow has not changed.
“Who are you?” I repeat myself.
They open their mouth to speak, but it comes out very echoey, and I can’t understand what they’re saying. Instead of asking the question a third time, I asked a different one.
“Are you here to save me?”
The figure speaks again, distorted. But I see them nodding.
I sit up, feeling hopeful. “You are?”
The figure shifts, and I caught a glimpse of large wings behind them. For a second, I let myself hope.
“You’re number Twelve?” I asked, but it was more of a statement than it was a question. The shadow, now revealed to be number Twelve, nods.
I feel a rush of emotions. Relief being the most potent of them all.
In the onslaught of emotions the dream becomes unstable. The wind picks up and clouds suddenly block out the sun. I look around at the storm, feeling scared. I turn back to Twelve and reach out, before something yanks me into the lake, and I wake up gasping for air.
We began with a simple autopsy of sorts to determine any oddities within the subject's body. Then to test their capabilities, we began to take their organs out and see their healing ability firsthand.
[TRANSCRIPTION OF EXPERIMENT]:
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS}: “We have gone ahead and made the incision. Despite being on the minimum amount of anesthesia, the subject is very quiet.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “There’s no muzzle or anything in her mouth. She’s just… choosing to remain silent.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “To be quite frank, it’s unnerving. But we continue.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “According to my charts, her readings are normal. Perfectly so.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Whatever this Reginald did, he was good at recreating what appears to be a perfectly cloned human being.”
[AUDIO CRACKLES]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Despite Thirteen being able to visually pass for human. Maybe even act like one on some level. There is something unnatural about her. Nurse Morrison, please explain to the recorder what it is we discussed prior to making the incision.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “Yes. When Thirteen was being placed on the table we noticed some peculiarities. We removed the blindfold only for a few moments to check her vision while the power dampener was on high. Her eyes are very reflective. I theorize that she has a Tapetum lucidum layer.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “These are likely changes made for her to be able to handle her abilities.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “That is our current theory.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Along with the potential Tapetum lucidum, there's an abnormal amount of electricity coursing through her veins. The amount is enough to kill, yet the subject doesn’t appear bothered by it in the slightest.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “Thirteen, would you like to add anything?”
[SILENCE]
[NURSE MORRISON]: “I suppose not.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “It would be a good idea to study just what changes have been made to her body in order for her to be able to handle her abilites.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “We won’t get permission immediately.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “We have time.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “I suppose you’re right. In any case, we should sew her up and send her back to her cell. The preliminary autopsy is over with.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Alright then.”
[TAPE SKIPS FORWARD]
[CLICK]
[NURSE MORRISON]: “Alright so, reading back the summary, we were able to remove the organs from thirteen with no difficulty. When replacing the organs, the body rejected them. But something strange has happened. Thirteen’s body instead began to regenerate those very same organs.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “The larger organs are taking more time to regenerate. Smaller organs however, have already fully regenerated.”
[NURSE MORRISON]: “It’s been six hours now. The process was very intriguing to watch. The healing seals the outside of the wound, creating the outer skin or cocoon before regenerating everything inside.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS BEGINS]: “Subject is very vocal today. I suppose the pain from having your organs regenerate themselves must be pretty immense. Thirteen can you tell us–”
[THIRTEEN]: “You promised me.”
[CRACKLING]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Uh, what was that Thirteen?”
[THIRTEEN]: “Said… b.. Back. together.”
[AUDIO REPEATS ITSELF BUT DISTORTED]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Yes, yes we’re going to put you back together once the experiment is over.”
[THIRTEEN]: “Liar.”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “What?”
[THIRTEENS VOICE DISTORTS] “LIAR!”
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Nurse!”
[AUDIO DISTORTS]
[INAUDIBLE YELLING]
[METAL BANGS AGAINST METAL]
[SQUELSHING]
[GLASS SHATTERS]
[SOMETHING WET HITS THE GROUND]
[ELECTRICITY IS HEARD]
[MORE YELLING]
[A SCREAM SOUNDS AND THE ROOM FALLS SILENT]
[THE SILENCE STRETCHES ON FOR A FEW MOMENTS]
[DOCTOR WARRENS PRESSES A BUTTON ON THE INTERCOM]
[DOCTOR WARRENS]: “Guards… please remove the body– er… the remains of Nurse Morrison from the room. Someone grab a broom to sweep up the glass and the… matter on the floor. Someone else fetch the mop. And someone assist me to lift Thirteen’s body back onto the table.”
Finally, Negan came to a halt. Vance could feel the jump in his heartbeat when he realized that he was standing right in front of him. Vance slowly looked up, meeting Negan’s eyes. Vance could see this sinister sort of enjoyment in his eyes. A sick feeling washed over Vance, and he quickly shoved it down.
Negan raised his bat, and a few quiet breaths sounded. The bat touched Vance’s chin, forcing him to look a little higher at Negan. “What’s your name, son?”
“Vance Graham.” Vance answered, fighting to keep any sort of sass out of his tone. This was not the place to be giving anyone an attitude. Negan seemed pleased by Vance’s answer, lowering his bat and letting it rest on the ground. “That jacket of yours.” Negan started, “You’re too young to be in the military. Whose is it? Your old mans?”
“My brothers.” Vance corrected.
Negan nodded in understanding. “Interesting. Your old man was with the boys in green too huh? Air force I’m assuming based on the patches. Let me guess, your brother followed in his footsteps. Got himself killed. You were next in line to enlist?”
Gritting his teeth, Vance could only nod. His brother didn’t ‘get himself killed.’ He went missing in the line of duty. The way Negan said it made it seem like his brother was reckless and careless with his life, when Vance knew that his brother was anything but the sort.
When Negan lifted the bat again, a quiet breath caught Vance’s attention. He didn’t know how he knew whose it was. It’s not like it was a particularly unique sound. But when he turned and caught Carl’s eye, he knew that the sound had in fact come from him. Vance could see the tension in Carl’s body. The fear that he was hiding. If Vance hadn’t been traveling with him for years, he might’ve missed all the subtle cues.
A chuckle made Vance look away. Negan was grinning like he had just won the lottery. “Looks like someone’s got a friend here.” Negan reached down and grabbed Vance’s sleeve, hauling him up to his feet. Vance reluctantly followed him. Negan brought him to stand in front of the group before shoving him back down to his knees. Vance was facing his group now, seeing their worried expressions.
“Leave the boy alone.” Rick called, staring at Negan head on. Challenging him almost, but not quite. “You’ve taken enough from us already.”
Negan only laughed. “On the contrary, Rick. I don’t think I’ve had my fill just yet.” He started to circle around Vance, coming to stand behind him. “But I’ll make you a deal.” He leaned down to rest a hand on Vance’s shoulder. “If this little guy answers all my questions, and I mean all, then I’ll let him live. And you all can go fuck off far away from this shit show.” He said, pointing Lucille towards the bodies his men were dragging off to the side.
Rick looked at Vance, and Vance hesitantly nodded. What was a few questions in exchange for his life, right?
“There.” Negan grinned. “Not so hard, huh? Let’s start with the first question..” Negan pointed his bat towards Carl. “I saw the way you were looking at him. You guys are..friends, right?”
Vance forced his voice to stay steady. “Yes. We’re friends.”
“You don’t sound too sure of that.”
“Well we are.” Vance bit out.
“See, you sound like you’re trying to convince yourself of that.” Negan leaned down, getting in Vance’s personal space. “I think you care about him.”
Vance tensed. He could tell what direction this was headed. Personal questions. Questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. But this stranger wanted him to expose every secret he kept just for his amusement. The thought alone was enough to set his teeth on edge.
Sensing Vance’s discomfort, Negan continued to speak. “Come on, admit it. You care about the kid.”
“Of course I care.” Vance muttered. “We’ve been traveling together for years. We’re… good friends.” Vance looked up to meet Carl’s eyes yet again. He’d hesitated, unsure if he could call Carl a good friend. If Carl would agree with Vance calling them that.
“Good friends.” Negan mocked. Something sharp swung at his side. Vance grunted, falling over into the ground. “Now isn’t that just sweet?” He kicked at Vance’s side again, and Vance started moving away. Negan only followed, kicking him again. Vance coughing out blood, only seemed to spur him on. “Now I should’ve said this earlier, but when I ask you a question, I expect an honest answer. But that’s okay. You’ll learn quickly.” He kicked one last time, this time at his ribs before stepping back. “So, I’ll ask again. What does that kid mean to you?”
“He’s my friend.” Vance repeated, spitting out blood again, Vance huffed into the blades of grass underneath him, trying to catch his breath. “I care about him, because we’re friends.”
“Right, right. So because you’re friends, you care about him. ” Negan stood over Vance. He seemed to be thinking something over in his head before deciding to enact whatever idea he had. He leaned down and grabbed a fistfull of Vance’s hair, pulling and forcing him back onto his knees.
The feeling of a hand tugging on his hair took Vance back in time. For a moment, Vance didn’t see his group there illuminated by the car headlights, kneeling and looking terrified for him. Instead he saw the beige color of his old home’s wallpaper. Photographs hanging crooked on the walls. Furniture old and ratty. The hand in his hair yanked his head up, and he glanced back at Negan. For a second he saw a different face. Once hidden by shadows, Vance knew every feature without having to see it. He could almost feel the edge of the dining room table when his father threw him into it. Vance blinked and looked away, taking a few sharp breaths to try and shake the memories away. He could feel his hands shaking, even tied behind his back.
Vance cursed Negan’s observational abilities, because the man latched onto every reaction like a stray dog with a bone. “Aw, someone doesn’t like having their hair pulled? Was it your dear old mommy? Trying to do this lion’s mane of yours for school? Or was it your daddy, trying to put some of that military discipline in you?”
“Are you asking, or telling me?” Vance asked, doing his best not to look at the man despite the awkward angle his head was at. Pulled all the way up to face Negan who was towering over him.
“Oh I think I know the answer. But let me hear it from you. Who was it that pulled on your hair?”
“My father.” Vance muttered.
“I’m guessing he hated that it was long, huh?” Negan loosened his grip on Vance’s hair, running his fingers through the curls. Vance shuddered, having to force himself not to make a disgusted expression or try to move away from the man. It would only encourage him to keep doing it. Negan twirled one of the curls around his finger before grabbing a fistfull again. “You grow it out now to spite him, huh? A big ole, fuck you dad. You can’t control me anymore.” Negan gave a sardonic laugh, the sound almost echoing in the silent area. It was an unsettling laugh, and Vance knew it would haunt him for a while. “Oh look at that, you’ve managed to distract me.” Negan tutted, wagging his finger at Vance like a parent scolding their child. “Let’s get back to my simple little question. Do you care about– ah, before you give me that whole little spiel about how you’ve been traveling together for a while let me tell you, I want a yes or no answer. Do you care about the kid?”
Vance rubbed his wrist against the ropes, before reluctantly nodding. “Yes. I care.”
“Good, see? You understand now.” Negan let go of Vance’s hair to ruffle it. “But see, I’m still not satisfied. Here’s what I think.” Negan knelt down next to Vance, pointing and directing his attention to Carl. “I think you care, a lot more than a friend would. Go on, say it.”
“Say what?”
“Oh don’t get snippy with me now.” Negan brought his bat over his knee, reminding Vance of what had just happened to Abraham, and what nearly would’ve happened to Glenn if Vance hadn’t caught Negan’s attention. “Say that you care about him more than just a friend.”
Vance looked away. “I care–” Negan grabbed his hair and forced him to look at Carl. “Sorry about that, you can go ahead and finish what you were saying.”
Vance swallowed around the lump forming in his throat. He stared at Carl, who seemed to be worried for Vance. “I care about him.” Vance said finally. “More than.. More…” Vance took in a shaky breath. “More than just a friend.”
“Good!” Negan's sudden, loud exclamation startled Vance, making him jump back. Negan roughly patted him on the back, making Vance wince as it jostled the injured area of his side where Negan had kicked him earlier. “Now let’s get to the real root of this little problem.” Negan lifted the bat and pointed the end to Carl. “Do you love him?”
Vance’s throat closed up. That was the root of the problem. The one Vance had been struggling with for so long. He knew that he had feelings for the other boy. Feelings he had refused to confront for so long. Every time he caught himself pining for the other boy. Lingering when he didn’t have to. Doing things he wouldn’t have done for any other person. He could hear his father’s voice in his ear. Yelling at him. Calling him disgusting. Wrong. Sometimes he would dream that he was back in the house, and his father would be there at the end of the hall, slowly walking towards Vance. Vance would struggle to answer. To defend himself. Prove that he didn’t care about Carl as much as he did. It never worked. Vance couldn’t hide his feelings. He couldn’t pretend that they didn’t exist. Not when Carl made all the things that his father said were wrong, feel right. When Carl would take his hand to lead him places, Vance felt like he was freaking out, but Carl would only look at him like he didn’t understand why he was hesitating. Or the time that Enid had accidentally gotten her gum stuck in Vance’s hair, and she and Carl spent an entire hour just trying to get it out so Vance didn’t have to cut his hair. Vance remembered Carl’s hand specifically, feeling them in his hair. On the back of his neck. Vance’s face had gotten so red that Enid had started profusely apologizing, thinking that he was that freaked out over his hair.
Finger’s snapped in front of Vance’s face, bringing him back to the present. “Welcome back. Done thinking over your answer?” Negan asked, a smug look on his face. “Here, I’ll make you a deal. You tell that boy that you love him. And I will let you all go. I’ll even give you some time to gather your things before I go over.”
Vance’s head snapped towards Negan, appalled. “You– what?”
“Well see, I’m not quite done sending a message. You’ll learn that shortly enough. But see right now what you need to focus on, is getting that little confession of yours out. If you do, I’ll stop the killing here. You get to go back to your little group, while Rick and I have a little chat.” Negan stood up, resting Lucille on Vance’s shoulder. “If you don’t, I’ll just have to leave you and maybe one or two of your friends here for the Decomposing Assholes to munch on.” He moved Lucille closer to Vance, drawing blood with one of the barbs. “So, let me hear that little confession of yours.”
Vance knew there were only a few ways this could end. With him confessing, and Negan staying true to his word and letting them go after he talks to Rick. Or, he confesses, and the sadistic bastard that Negan is, kills him. Vance didn’t have any other choice though, so he dragged his eyes up to meet Carls. His voice wavered when he spoke, and it was rushed, but he finally mustered up the courage to say it. “I love him.”
Negan started clapping. “There it is.” He said, “You made that a lot harder than it had to be, but I’ll take it.” He stopped clapping and grabbed Vance by the back of his collar, hauling him up and tossing him into the group. Vance crashed into Glenn, crying out when Glenn’s knee jammed into his side. Glenn managed to help Vance off despite not being able to use his arms. Vance, exhausted from the emotional and physical toll of everything that had gone down, decided to remain on the floor.
Negan nudged Vance’s body with his foot. “Looks like you need a break. That works out for me because I actually have a question for the little bird that caught your eye over here. No pun intended.” He chuckled to himself. “Now, I would ask that you don’t make this difficult like your ‘friend’ over there.” Negan put the word in air quotes. “But it’s not as fun when you cooperate so,” Negan crouched down in front of Vance. “Now I can make this easy for him, make it all go away.” Negan pulled out a gun from his holster, checking it before placing it at Vance's temple. “Or I can keep dragging this out, and we’ll see if he has a chance at surviving all this.”
“Get away from him.” Carl spat, glaring at Negan.
“Wow. You sure are intimidating when you’re missing an eye.” Negan snickered. “I’m just trembling in my boots.” Negan got up and pulled out a large knife and a lighter. He flicked on the lighter, a few times, cursing when it didn’t work. He turned to the soldiers behind him. “Hey, which one of you has a lighter that works?”
One of them stepped forward and handed them his. Negan grinned and flicked it on, eyebrows raising at the large flame. “Oh Kenny? You are not getting this bad boy back from me.” He chuckled. Megan brought the blade over the flame, letting it heat up. After a few seconds he deemed it hot enough and walked back over to Vance. “I’m going by to give your one eyed friend over there some motivation, mkay? Now tell me, which of your fingers are you less fond of?”
Vance let out a slow breath. His body ached. He was in so much pain that every thought made his head spin. That probably wasn’t the best thing in the world. But maybe it would prevent him from becoming a walker. Can’t turn into one if your brain is damaged, right? No doubt all the things Negan had done would’ve left some kind of physical trauma. And if not physical, then he would bet all the chocolate he had hidden in his stash that it would be psychological. “Uhm—“
“Trick question!” Negan plunged the knife into Vance’s back.
Vance let out a yell, the hot metal searing his skin. Negan pushed the blade just a little further, letting Vance feel the hilt on his skin before pulling it out. “Uh oh. Guess it wasn’t hot enough to seal it, huh?” Negan hummed, pressing the blade flat to Vance’s wound. The heat burned Vance, like it was cauterizing the wound. Negan stood up and wiped the blood off the knife and onto Vance’s shirt. He left Vance’s side, moving over to Carl.
“So is that enough motivation or am I going to have to torture you or… maybe go back to your buddy over there?” Negan jerked his head over to Vance, still on the ground.
Carl followed his gaze to Vance, and his expression hardened. “Don’t touch him.” He hissed.
“Ah, a little late for that huh? I already pulled out a few things from his pretty little head.” Negan held up his gloved hand, a few strands of hair on them. He shook his hand, getting rid of the mess. “You can stop it from continuing of course. Just answer me the same question I asked him.”
“You want to know if I love him?” Carl asked, knowing what he wanted. He clenched his jaw, taking in a tense breath before continuing. “Yes, I love him. More than just a friend.”
“For how long?”
Carl hesitated, causing Negan to stand up. Before Negan could make a move over to Vance, he quickly spoke up. “A few months after we first got to Alexandria. They made him stick with me until I could make some friends. But he… he ended up staying with me the entire time. And we just got closer after that.”
“Oh now isn’t that adorable?” Negan chuckled. “Oh Rick, I think it’s time for us to have a chat.” Negan called, walking over to grab Rick.
Vance could only watch as Negan essentially kidnapped Rick. He sat up a few moments later, having caught his breath. He didn’t register someone on his right coming up a little closer to him until one of the guards snapped.
“Hey! You two better not try anything. We will shoot.” He threatened.
Vance turned to his side to see.. Carl. Vance felt his stomach tie into knots. Carl didn’t offer him the same comforting smile he usually did when they got out of a dangerous situation. Maybe it was because they were still in danger. Or maybe he was too weirded out by Vance to try. Vance looked away. Everyone seemed to be quietly talking to each other, trying to reassure one another that they’d make it out of there.
“Hey.” Carl said quietly. Vance closed his eyes, steeling himself before turning to face Carl again. “Hey.” He said, wincing at the voice crack.
“Are you okay?” Carl asked.
“I’ll be fine.” Vance answered. “We’ve had worse, right? It’s just a few bruises.”
“I’m not talking about the bruises.”
Vance pursed his lips. “Look I- I think it’s better if we just forget about what happened.”
“I can’t forget my… friend, getting hurt in front of me.”
“Figure it out.” Vance snapped, feeling like he was being put on the spot again. He regretted snapping at Carl, but he really couldn’t handle another dive into his feelings right now. “I don’t want to talk about this.” He said, softer this time. “Not yet, at least.”
Carl seemed to accept that answer, and they sat in silence until Negan finally returned with Rick, who looked like he’d been through the ringer with death itself. Negan walked Rick back into the center, and pointed to Carl. “Bring him over.”
“What are you doing?” Rick asked.
“Just the last thing before I let you all go." Negan explained as two men lifted Carl up and dragged him back into the center. “You’re going to cut off his arm.”
Vance felt his blood run cold. He was going to what?
“You heard me.” Negan said, as if he had read Vance’s mind. “I want you to cut off your boy’s arm with that neat little hatchet of yours there.”
“I- I can’t.” Rick started.
Negan groaned. “Oh come on Rick, it’s just an arm! He has another one, doesn’t he?”
Vance could already imagine the sound the limb would make when it hit the ground. The sound made him feel sick. He looked at the men holding Carl, forcing him to keep his arm on the hood of the car. “Please.” He whispered, not audible over the sound of the engine. “Don’t do this.”
Vance never considered himself to be particularly religious. His mother, when she was alive, never took him to church on Sundays. His father didn’t really say the word ‘God’ unless it was followed by ‘damn it.’ or preceded by ‘I swear to.’ But right now, Vance was reaching for God, any god that would listen, for Negan to let Carl go. His prayer was answered. But the sinister way that it was answered made it feel like the devil had intercepted his message, and took it upon himself to grant it in the worst way possible.
“Maybe it’ll be easier if it’s not your son, huh?” Negan said, shoving Carl into the arms of his men. “I’m sure you won’t mind taking the arm of the person your son loves instead, huh?” Negan walked over to Vance, hoisting him back up onto his feet. Vance didn’t struggle. He followed Negan, letting him put his arm on the hood of the car with no protest. Vance looked up at Rick, giving him a curt nod. He could hear Carl struggling behind him, spitting out as many curses as Vance’s father would scream at the TV on Wednesday nights.
“Come on Rick.” Negan egged him on, dragging out each word. “It should be easier right? Cut off the arm of the person your kid has been in love with? I mean, it’s not like he’ll never fall in love again.” Negan reached over and grabbed Vance’s face in his hands, squeezing his cheeks and shaking his head around. “I mean look at this face! I’m sure you’re hoping that your kid will find some girl to settle down with. One with better cheekbones and… prettier eyes maybe.” Negan looked at Vance and grimaced. “Not those beady little things.” He let go of Vance’s face, walking over to Rick and patting the arm holding the axe. “I know you’ll make the right choice.”
When Negan looked up to meet Vance’s eyes, Vance could see the sick sense of satisfaction written all over his face. His eagerness to see Vance’s blood spill over the van. Vance at the very least, was glad that Negan had chosen to take his right arm. Vance had been a lefty his whole life. Having to learn to do everything with his right hand would’ve been the second worst thing that happened to him. Other than losing the first arm that is.
Rick picked up the axe in both hands, much to Negan’s delight. He couldn’t bring himself to meet Vance’s eyes. It was likely that if he did, the sight would haunt him. Vance couldn’t bring himself not to look scared. Not after everything he’d been through. He knew Negan wouldn’t like it if he looked away, so he forced himself to watch as Rick lifted up the axe. Vance’s hand twitched, an unconscious motion. Vance remembered hearing about phantom pain from his father, who had lost his leg in the war. Vance relaxed his arm as much as he could, hoping that maybe if he pretended like nothing was wrong when the arm was missing, that he wouldn’t have to deal with the pain. A voice in his head chided him for thinking something so silly, but Vance was desperate to cling onto any kind of thought that would bring him comfort.
The axe swung down, slicing the air as it did. Vance shut his eyes, unable to help it. A loud crack sounded, but there was no pain. Vance sucked in a sharp breath, knowing that it would happen any minute now. So… where was it? If he opened his eyes, would it hurt? Was the pain imaginary? Was it so bad that his brain was blocking it out? Vance kept his eyes shut, foolishly hoping that would keep the pain at bay. It was the sound of laughter that made him open his eyes.
“Wonderful show, Rick!” Negan cheered, “Man, I didn’t think you’d actually be able to do it.”
Vance, unable to stop himself, looked down to see that his arm was still intact, and the axe was… embedded in a baseball bat? Negan’s barbed-wire wrapped baseball bat to be exact. Vance clenched his fist, as if to check that it was in fact there. He moved his hand around a little bit, feeling an immense wave of relief wash over him. For some strange reason, his first thought wasn’t ‘Oh wow, I still have my arm.’ It was, ‘Thank god I didn’t lose my handshaking arm. It would’ve been awkward trying to shake someones hand with your left when everyone is a righty.’ Vance didn’t push away the thought, clinging onto the absurdity of it so he wouldn't be crushed under the realization of how close he was to becoming more like his father. Angry at the world, and missing a limb.
“Now see, I know you’re probably wondering why I let the kid keep the arm. Have I grown attached after throwing him around for…” Negan checked his watch. “About twenty minutes now? Maybe just a little. Kid took it like a champ!” Negan snickered and walked over to Vance, leaning on his side. “But no, see. I know a little thing or two about stuff that’ll mess with your head forever.” He leaned in close, lowering his voice so now only Vance and Rick could hear him. “First, you two will never fully be able to trust each other. So if you did before, kiss that relationship goodbye. And second, my favorite part, your own son won’t be able to trust you. I mean, maybe he’ll be grateful for the fact that he’s still got his arm. But his lover over here almost became lopsided.” Negan grinned and leaned back. “So enjoy that little guilty conscience of yours. Wish I could be there to see it tear you all apart but alas, I have got some other people who’s heads need bashing in and arms need cutting off, the usual way I spend my evenings. But don’t worry, this isn’t the last time you’ll be seeing me.” Negan whistled, and the guards brought Rick, Carl, and Vance back over to the group. “Vander, that’s your name right?” Negan called, following them over.
Vance let out a sigh and looked up. “Vance. My name is Vance.”
“Right, right.” Negan stopped in front of Vance. He pulled out his knife from his holster, the same one he had used to stab and then burn Vance with. He leaned down and stuck it into the dirt. “Use that to cut your friends loose. You keep that until the next time I see you. Don’t lose it, cause if you do, I’m going to be very upset.”
With that, Negan and his group left, leaving Vance and the others barely illuminated by the moon. Vance reached out with his left, picking the knife up out of the ground. He hated that the blade was balanced and the handle was nicely molded, fitting his own hands almost perfectly. Ignoring the thought, Vance turned over to start cutting everyone else loose. Once they were all free, Vance held the knife in his hands. He noticed the shake of his hands, how the blade had ended up pointing towards him. There was a silent urge, one Vance was barely able to hear. He reached over into his holster, finding that the switchblade he usually carried was gone. One of the guards had pocketed it when they first tied him down. Unfortunately, that meant that Vance had a place to slide his new blade into, a place that unfortunately suited the weapon perfectly.
Vance went to put the blade away, when his shaking hands betrayed him, and it slipped. Vance cursed and went to pick it up when someone else beat him to the punch. A familiar pale hand grabbed the knife. Vance looked up to see Carl, holding his Negan’s knife out to him.
“You dropped your knife.” Carl said, handing it over.
Vance took the knife, setting into the holster. “Yeah. I did.” He said lamely. Vance stared at the ground for a few minutes before looking up to meet Carl’s eye. “Are you… okay?” He asked. He grimaced. “Uhm. Maybe not the best question to ask.”
“No I’m… I’m fine.” Carl shook his head. “I’m worried about you.”
Vance rubbed his arm. “I still have my arm. And the rest of me.”
At that, Carl reached out to hold Vance’s hand. He seemed pensive for a few moments before looking up at Vance again. “Do you agree with what Negan said?” Carl asked, changing the subject.
“Which part?” Vance muttered, eyes stuck on Carl’s hand holding his own. “The one about me being gross and disgusting, or about not being able to trust your dad?”
“You’re not gross. Or disgusting.” Carl said immediately, barely letting Vance finish. “And I don’t care if you trust my dad. I care about… if you still trust me.”
That wasn’t the question he wanted to ask. But Vance decided to answer it anyway. “I don’t have any reason not to.” He said. “You told Negan what he wanted to hear to save my life.”
“What he wanted to hear?” Carl furrowed his brow. “I told him the truth.”
“The truth…?”
“When I said that I loved you, I meant it.” Carl said, squeezing Vance’s hand.. “And.. you don’t have to say it. But I know you meant it too.”
Vance stayed quiet, unsure of how to approach the subject. Instead he brought Carl’s hand closer to him, bringing up his other hand to cover it. Unable to stop his thoughts from returning to that moment, Vance followed the bumps of his knuckles down to the bend of his wrist, tracing the skin until he reached his forearm. Carl would’ve lost that arm today. Vance could’ve lost his too if Negan decided that it wasn’t enough. They had escaped with their lives. But left behind Abraham in the process.
Vance’s eyes drifted over to the body laying in the grass on the side of the road. The man was the very picture of a military man. When Vance first met him, he was very apprehensive of the man. Having thought that the man would be more like his father. But Abraham was very kind. Stern and principled, but he never had a mean word to say towards Vance. Only encouragement. The sight of his body strewn so carelessly on the side like that made him upset.
Vance let go of Carl’s hand, walking over to the body. He kept his eyes trained below the space where Abraham's face would be. He shrugged off his jacket, taking it and gently draping it over the body. Vance knew that at one point someone would come along and take the jacket. Or maybe it’d be torn apart by a walker coming to eat the body afterwards. But when faced with the decision of keeping the jacket or giving it up to perform one final act for the man who changed his mind regarding everything he believed about men like him and his father, it wasn’t a hard choice. Vance fixed the jacket over him, careful to avoid the head area, as he knew there was nothing there. Vance stood back up, bringing his hands up to grab at his brother’s dog tags. He’d been to two funerals in his life. Only one of them had an actual body in the casket. This made his third.
A hand on his shoulder made him jump, and he turned to see Carl. “We should go.’ Carl said quietly. “Get as far away from here as we can.”
“I know.” Vance replied. “I just… Can we wait a minute?” He asked, meeting Carl’s eye. “Mourn him?”
Carl nodded. Vance looked down at the body, closing his eyes. He thought back to the day he and Abraham finally spoke. How Abraham had asked him about the jacket, and Vance got snippy with him. Vance regretted it now, but at the time he had still been under the assumption that Abraham was like the other military guys he’d seen in his life. Abraham had only nodded and asked about his family. Vance tried to keep it brief, but Abraham had this way of coaxing things out of you. He made Vance feel heard, and Vance ended up confessing a lot of messed up things about his family, things he’d never told anyone. Things that Abraham had now taken to his grave.
After a few seconds, Carl reached out and took Vance’s hand again. This time Vance didn’t flinch. He let Carl lead him into the RV, taking a seat at the table next to him. Vance looked out the window, watching as they drove away. There was a quiet part of him that wished nothing but revenge on Negan. Wanting to humiliate and hurt him the same way Negan had done to him in front of the group. But the louder part of him just wanted to lay down somewhere. Hide away from the world, and most importantly, hide away from Negan. He never wanted to cross another ‘savior’ for as long as he lived.
Carl leaned against him, offering him a comforting presence in the quiet moment. Vance ignored his body’s protests of pain, and leaned on Carl as well, looking out at the window as they drove along. The sun was starting to peek out from the horizon, painting the sky in bright colors. Vance’s eyes drew to the softer blue parts of the sky, noting that they reminded him of the color of Carl’s eye. He glanced away from the sky, looking at the boy resting his head on Vance’s shoulder. Despite everything that had just happened, Vance found himself relaxing into the moment.
