Lone Wolf
Genre: Angst/Drama/Fluff
Pairings: Michael Clifford/reader
Word Count: 2882
Requested: by @clffrd for spooky!sos 2019
Trigger Warnings: violence/zombies/apocalypse/fainting/brief references to death
A/N: Effy, this concept ended me! I hope you enjoy this 💖
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It wasn’t much, but it was safe. That had been Michael’s view on his little storm shelter since the day he’d claimed it as his own. It’d only been a couple of months post-apocalypse when he’d stumbled across ‘his’ abandoned farmland.
The farm itself had already been destroyed when he’d stumbled across it but the little bunker was all he’d needed anyway. Throughout the year that followed the outbreak, Michael had fashioned the little storm shelter into something resembling a home. He’d filled it with essential supplies and weapons as well as few little comforting touches such as a couple of posters of games and movies he’d used to love.
Michael had always been somewhat of a ‘lone wolf’. He’d become estranged from his family long before the flesh eating disease destroyed the vast majority of humanity. He’d never been that good at making friends either, therefore his lack of human contact since the apocalypse, was nothing new to him.
Much to his dismay; a few months after Michael had claimed his bunker, a little group of survivors had set up camp just a couple of miles away. Their hulking vehicles and sprawling barricades ruined his view of the lake and he hated knowing that a bunch of strangers were so close to him and his little patch of land.
They’d rolled past the farm in their convoy of beaten up old camper vans about six months after the virus had hit. Michael had half hoped they’d all keep going but they’d deemed this particular patch of countryside too good to leave.
He couldn’t blame them really. The clear streams and the huge lake, the sweeping hills and easy access to a bunch of little towns (which were still the best places to find certain types of supplies), all less than a day’s hike away, made this a pretty good place to call home these days.
Despite all of his reservations about the campers, Michael had decided to introduce himself very early on and make sure that they understood his boundaries. To his utter amazement, the other survivors had respected his wishes without hesitation.
He’d been suspicious at the time, that the group were just biding their time - waiting for him to let his guard down so that they could dispose of him. It’d never happened, though. The worst thing they’d ever done is try to invite him into their ranks, which was just about a forgivable offence in Michael’s opinion.
Having lived alongside them for nearly a year, Michael had sort of grown used to their presence. It was almost comforting to look out over their camp sometimes. He also knew that they checked in on him occasionally, which was quite handy if ever there was bad weather or something that could potentially cause something to block the entrance to his bunker - at least he knew he wouldn’t be trapped in there for too long before someone noticed something was amiss.
The only thing that scared Michael now, was how much he was willing to rely on them. He didn’t want to be tied down to them but he was worried he was heading that way.
To prove that he could still survive when he was entirely alone, Michael decided to take a long hike to a little town further afield than the ones he usually went to when he needed supplies. He knew it was a risk; he hadn’t made this particular journey more than a couple of times. Getting lost was a huge possibility and could easily result in a whole bunch of terrifying consequences.
This was something Michael had to do, though. If he was scared of making this journey, he’d already become too dependent on others.
He managed to push back the niggling doubts that he had as he gathered up his supplies. It was important to travel light for this hike because some of the terrain was nothing short of punishing. A heavy backpack would be more of hinderance than anything else.
After packing just a few food items; his large water flask and a single blanket, Michael grabbed his trusted machete and stepped out of his bunker.
The sun was barely peaking over the horizon when Michael stepped outside and locked up his bunker. The lingering chill from the night before meant that he could see his breath in little wisps in front of him, as he went over his mental checklist.
Once he was sure that he was as prepared as he could possibly be, Michael stored his weapon in his belt and set off towards the woods.
***
You’d fought your way out of hundreds of scrapes and killed countless zombies in your bid for survival thus far. You’d never have imagined that you’d ever need rescuing by a complete stranger.
That’s exactly what’d happened though.
You’d been travelling alone for weeks - ever since the group of survivors you’d been with since the outbreak, had been scattered after a huge attack on the camp you’d built together.
Maybe it was loneliness or perhaps it could have been because of malnutrition or dehydration, but whatever the reason, you’d started making silly mistakes. It was one such error that lead to you becoming trapped in the back of one of the thousands of broken down vehicles littering the highway you were wondering down.
You’d always known you should run and not hide from the undead. Fatigue had started to set into every inch of you, though. You knew that you wouldn’t be able to outrun the corpses tonight. Crawling into the back of a rusting van had seemed like your only option. You’d barricaded the doors as best you could with the few items that had been left in the vehicle.
Of course, the heap of useless metal became surrounded within minutes. The unnatural grunting and the terrifying sound of rotting fingers clawing at the outside of the van would be the last things you heard before you were eaten alive. That was the only conceivable outcome of this situation.
You’d basically accepted your fate by the time you heard something that gave you the tiniest hope of survival. The unmistakable sounds of a living, breathing human being fighting the corpses outside the van reached your ears and you felt relieved tears beginning to sting your eyes.
After a few minutes the noises of fighting stopped and heavy footsteps made their way hesitantly towards the van. Despite your relief at being safe from the zombies now, you knew that there were a lot of people that used their new freedom from law and civilised society for evil purposes.
As the door of the van creaked open you cursed yourself again for getting yourself cornered like this. You were in no position or condition to fight, if this person wanted to hurt you, they wouldn’t have a very difficult job on their hands.
Clutching your weapons out of habit more than anything, you fixed your gaze on the dark figure that emerged through the small gap that your barricade would allow the van doors to make.
“Is someone in there?”
The voice sounded kind of rough like it hadn’t been used much in a long time.
“There’s more corpses nearby, I don’t think it’s safe for you to stay here.” The man explained, keeping his voice low to avoid detection. “If you’re hurt, I can help you but we can’t stay here for long, unless you want to be a zombie snack.”
Trusting this man seemed like your best hope for survival. You also couldn’t deny the fact that you’d missed human company more than you can say.
You inched closer to the doors, pulling aside your barricade just enough to squeeze out of the van.
In the pale moonlight, the man that had saved you looked like some sort of angel. His pale skin and fluffy sandy hair gave him an air of softness that was the total opposite to the toughness suggested by his heavy boots, bloodstained clothes, machete and the stern expression on his handsome face.
“Can you walk?” He asked, as you staggered out onto the road.
Your head was kind of spinning with a weird mix of exhaustion, relief and adrenaline. Still, it was hard not to take in the details of the scene you were faced with. The broken bodies of the zombies that would have certainly killed you a moment ago, lay motionless at the stranger’s feet.
“Just about.” You replied, unable to take your eyes off of the man in front of you. Thank you for helping I...” you faltered, dizziness overwhelming you for moment.
Before you could fully recover, the mysterious man hooked your arm around his neck as he gripped you steadily around the waist. He set of at a speed that you couldn’t quite match in your weakened state.
You weren’t sure how long you were practically carried by the stranger. The ordeal back at the van had drained the last of your energy and you were struggling to remain conscious.
Vaguely aware that the stranger was comforting you with promises of safety and water, you tried your hardest to stay awake.
You failed.
***
Michael took care of you for two whole days. Supplying you with food, water and protection until your strength started to return to you.
He’d discovered a little abandoned cabin in the woods lining the road he’d found you on. Most of the tiny building had been stripped of useful items but a ragged old sofa and some musty blankets had remained. It wasn’t ideal but it’d been enough to keep you relatively comfortable during in your recovery.
Michael had intended upon helping you find another group as soon as you were strong enough to walk again. He’d always helped people that needed it, human decency was the only thing he really had to offer alongside his skills with a machete. That was where his involvement with other people usually ended, though.
Somehow it felt different with you.
From the moment you’d stumbled out of that rusting van, Michael had seen something in you that he’d never noticed in anyone else.
Having been a loner for pretty much as long as he could remember, it was difficult for Michael to place his feelings for you. All that he knew was, the thought of leaving you hurt.
Between your frequent napping, Michael had learnt a lot about you. Besides the things you’d told him verbally, he was good at reading people. He knew by the way you always kept your weapons close that you were a smart fighter. The way you moved as your strength returned, told him that you were a confident person and the definition in your arm and leg muscles showed a degree of physicality that suggested you’d be tough to beat in a fight.
The thing that Michael found most intriguing about you, though, was the way you opened up to him and treated him with warmth as opposed to the cold, suspicion or indifference he was usually met with.
What he didn’t realise was that your reaction to him was entirely out of character. You’d always been notoriously hard to get along with and since the apocalypse, you’d become dangerously suspicious of everyone... Everyone except the pretty green eyed man that had saved your life.
As your third day together dawned, Michael found himself struggling to accept that it was time to start heading back. He knew he had to find you somewhere safe to live, but for the first time in his entire life, the thought of being alone again wasn’t so appealing.
As much as he’d hate to admit it, Michael was enjoying your company. He’d already told you things that he’d never planned on sharing out loud with anyone, let alone someone he’d known for such a short space of time. There was plenty more he wished to discuss with you, too.
“So today’s the day we start moving, huh?” You asked, a nervous tone creeping into your voice. “I bet you’re excited to get rid of me so you can head home, huh?”
Michael wanted to laugh it off but he couldn’t deny the sadness that spread through him at the very thought of not having you around anymore. It was odd to him; feeling so much for someone, especially someone who was still pretty much a stranger to him.
His many conflicting feelings prevented Michael from responding to you. Pretending not to hear you seemed preferable to whatever his answer would be.
When he remained silent, your heart sank a little as you assumed it was his way of confirming your suggestion. You scrambled to your feet and slid your knife into your belt before picking up your trusted baseball bat from the floor near the sofa. “I’m good to go on alone, if you’re that eager to be by yourself again.” You said, a note of steeliness in your tone that betrayed how hurt you felt by the fact he didn’t care for you as much as you’d hoped.
Michael’s eyes snapped up to meet yours, his expression almost frightened. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you travel alone yet.” He replied finally. “I’d rather we stayed together for a bit longer, until you’re back at full strength.”
“Thanks for taking care of me, but I don’t want to be a burden to you anymore.” You explained, that hurt tone in your voice refusing to disappear fully.
“You’re not a burden!” Michael replied, scrambling to his feet before stepping closer to you. “I promised to keep you safe and I won’t feel like I’ve fulfilled that until you’ve found a new home. You just don’t strike me as a wonderer.”
Despite the obvious effort Michael put into choosing words that suggested he was doing this out of a sense of duty, you noticed the hint of sadness in his pretty green eyes and the way his fingers twitched nervously as though he didn’t know what to do with them.
“I think I could survive on my own.” You argue lightly, the doubt that Michael didn’t care for you in some way, dwindling by the second. “Maybe you’ve inspired me... maybe I could be a lone wolf, just like you.”
You’d meant it as a joke, not expecting to deepen the sadness in Michael’s eyes to an almost heartbreaking capacity. He tried to hide it but failed miserably as tears started to threaten to fall down his cheeks.
“I wouldn’t recommend it.” He sniffed, trying to hide his emotion by tilting his face downwards, allowing his long fringe to shield his eyes from you. “I think you’d be better off within a group.”
Against your better judgement, you stepped closer to Michael, reaching up to cradle his cheek gently. There’s a moment of eye contact, so charged with different emotions, that they threatened to overwhelm you. Having an attraction towards someone was a luxury you’d thought had died along aside everything else when the world had ended. It seemed dangerous and almost unnatural to crave someone the way you were starting to crave Michael. “You can admit it if you want me to stay with you, Michael. I’m quite a catch, not bad at fighting either.” You aimed for a humorous tone, giving yourself an out if Michael hated the thought of being with you for longer than he had to be.
Some of the tension leaked out of Michael’s face as he pressed his cheek into your hold, his eyelids sliding shut gently. “You can do better than me.” He replied quietly. “I’m not good with people... I only know how to take care of myself.”
You let out a soft chuckle before placing a lingering kiss to his jaw. “You’ve taken care of me.” You argued. “I wouldn’t be here now if it wasn’t for you.”
Michael opened his eyes to meet your gaze and there was a split second that you thought he might kiss you but he seemed to second guess himself as his cheeks filled with colour and he took a step away from you. “I have a feeling you’d have found a way out.” He smiled awkwardly. “You seem like the type of person that the world can’t do without these days.”
The simple compliment filled your heart with joy as a smile curled your lips. “You mentioned the little group of survivors that live close to you.” You offer brightly, “do you think they’d take me in?”
Michael shrugged but there was a hopeful glint in his eyes. “I don’t see why not.”
“That’d be the perfect solution, wouldn’t it?” You asked, smirking a tiny bit. “I could come and visit you whenever you wanted...”
“I’d like that.” Michael replied with a genuine smile. “I think it’s about time I started welcoming guests to my little bunker.”
You pouted as you took his hand, intertwining your fingers with his. “Not too many guests, I hope... I’d kinda like you to myself sometimes.”
He squeezed your fingers gently to show that he was happy with contact but didn’t acknowledge it in any other way. That didn’t matter, though, it felt right and Michael seemed to agree, that’s all that mattered.
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