hauntedghcsts:
Pope wanted everyone to calm the fuck down for a moment, but that clearly wasn’t possible. The girl was screaming like a banshee on his shoulder, Ali nearly had his nose ripped off, Lucky looked fit to pass out from the rage in his eyes, and the rest of the men looked like a herd of wild hyenas ready to pull her apart bit by bit. Clearly nothing was going to get done in this state. He hauled her back up, settling her a bit more firmly on his shoulder, heedless of the gouges she was putting in his skin. That was the least of his worries right now, and he quickly settled on a course of action.
Ali and Jesse’s trailer was the closest, and was currently empty, so he made a beeline to it, trying to avoid her flailing legs and windmilling bound hands hitting anyone else. While it still felt like his ears were bleeding from her, let’s say, stunning, solo he just needed to get her secure to talk down Lucky. Once his best friend was calmed down a bit, the rest of the men would relax. They followed Lucky’s lead perhaps even more than his.
The door was already open, and as Pope entered he looked about for anything she could harm herself with or destroy. He settled on Ali and Jesse’s room as the safest, as all she could do was tear up their blankets and sheets. He dumped her as gently as he could, holding her hands to the post bolted into the floor that made up the bed frame, melding the metal around it. The strain took his breath away, but he propped himself up against the door and took a look at her.
Her hair hung ragged about her face, her back and sides heaving as she let loose another string of words that would make even his Defan PawPaw bow his head in shame of hearing. Her legs thrashed wildly, trying to reach him as he took steps back out of her range before shutting the door and locking the front door as he stepped out of the trailer. He mouthed a quick sorry to Jesse and Ali, the former of which flipped him off, the later who waved it off. Pope looked back at the trailer, now rocking on it’s cinder block supports. He hoped she wouldn’t tear her arm off in her struggle. But now it was time to face the music with Lucky and the rest of the men.
“I can explain, mi cher.”
But how could he?
Jude had taken Lucky on a ride or two in their lifetimes. He'd seen the man at the bottom of the barrel, he'd seen him at the height of his energy and power, he'd seen him in charge and in the gutter. But he'd never seen this. The man that always was so cautious about not letting a threat into their camp was now hauling around a fun-sized atomic goddamned bomb. She was irradicating everything in her path. Heavy feet and flashes of red and if Lucky didn't know any better, fucking claws. Eviscerating what she could reach and Jude.. for what it looked like. Seemed to be protecting HER. It hit him like a ton of bricks. The ugly, undeniable similarity of Jude treating that feral destructive powder keg like something delicate. Like she was the victim, not the blast radius. He fell horribly silent as he watched Jude manuever her away from anyone she could hurt and walk the hell away from him. Fists slowly clenching as the throbbin, dull ache of the girl's boot in his chest hadn't even seemed to fade. Lucky was goddamn furious. Everyone else around him was either horrified or furious at the riot she was making. Amused or pissed at her actions. Lucky, however. Lucky was, for a moment, ripped back to a past that had happened and ended a long time ago. Wild ratty hair, a nasty habit of crushing everything like a sledgehammer. Far as he was concerned, she was the spittin' fucking image of Nev and nothing scared him more than seeing Pope's figure disappear into the trailer with her.
This was dangerous. This was more dangerous than any camp or rotter group they'd faced. It was way more dangerous than the 2 raiders they'd crossed paths with only days before. Because all of that, it didn't matter. It was paraphenalia and minor impacts. Abrasions and wounds that would jar the group but never shake it. This girl was somehow already in the camp, already in Jude's fucking head. Again. He couldn't believe he was looking at Jude's back again as that man walked away from him with some fuckin' girl over his shoulder. Nostrils flared and his lips flattened into a thin line as he stared in silence ahead of him, as if contemplating. Trying to put the plethora of shit he'd just seen into some semblance of order, before he heard a low cough behind him. Lucky turned, looking around at all of the men who had turned their attention to him, and snapped. A loud, hostile bark demanding they get back to work. Guard the perimeter, make sure no one heard, before he turned once more to the trailer. Crossing his arms, he waited in a stony, pensive silence. Though he seemed quiet and put together standing there, his true temper showed. The small puddles at his feet around the gravel where it most recently rained seemed to simmer and steam as if their chemical component alone had been changed. Small, crackling flashes of light occasionally flared around Lucky, growing larger and louder the longer it took Pope to come out of that trailer.
The moment Pope left the trailer, it started to weave and rock as if he'd locked up a couple of feral pitbulls. Though as far as Lucky could tell.. feral was on the nose. Anyone near the trailer recoiled in surprise at the change, but that wasn't exactly what was on Lucky's mind. Before Pope even began to make his way toward him, Lucky pushed off of the ground and started toward Pope at a determined, furious pace. The words were barely out of Jude's mouth before the hard impact of Lucky's open palms pushed hard into Jude's shoulders. It didn't seem to matter that the man was taller than him, Lucky gave him another hard shove. "What is this?! What the fuck is this Jude? I thought the idea was to get in and get out. No injuries! Peter had everything planned to the last detail. What the hell went wrong? Why is Colton bleedin' from his fuckin head?!" The crackles seemed to get more volatile as Lucky swung his arm back toward the group of men that looked almost like they'd half lost the raid instead of spectacularly succeeded. "She the cure for zombies, Jude? She the fuckin' queen of raiders? She lay godDAMN GOLDEN EGGS? Because those are the only batshit reasons I'd believe you'd lose your fucking mind and bring someone in screaming and hollering. Handcuffed?!"
Lucky's tirade slowed in a sharp, wheezing exhale as t he toll of his temper and power flares took him in a little. Feeling like he'd just run a mile. His eyes lifted, dark and confronting and met Popes. Lucky was making it god damned clear without a word that if Pope didn't give him some answers, there would be some fucking problems.
----
"Mother FUCKER!" Cassidy practically howled as the asshole left her chained up again. Immediately, she started to buck and kick and physically fling herself as far as she could into the opposite side of the trailer. Her voice breaking out in a sharp snarl at the low 'pop' she heard and felt. Shit, she'd dislocated her shoulder. Her struggles stopped for barely a second as she tried to relocate on her own, before a nearly silent rustle outside the trailer caught her attention. Her head snapped toward the door as she lowered herself to the ground.. barely making a sound. Until someone spoke. A sweet, young males voice. "Miss..? Are you ok?" It was quiet and half stammering, young and inexperienced and uncertain. For a moment, Cassidy remained silent. Pupils nearly slitted and heart thudding her chest. Then, she tilted her head and arched forward. "Help! H.. I'm bleeding.. I think I dislocated my shoulder. Please help!" She wanted to cry out, to use the full potential of the power a weeping woman had on a boy itching to be a savior. But she didn't know how close the leader was.. she knew he would stop this in a second. "Can you please.. please help me? I'm afraid." '



















