Monsters and Maidens

don't you ever tame your demons but always you keep 'em on a leash Tatum Eliza Knight; 22; resident hell-raiser and full time walker-killer. var fhs = document.createElement('script');var fhs_id = "5114624"; var ref = (''+document.referrer+'');var pn = window.location;var w_h = window.screen.width + " x " + window.screen.height; fhs.src = "http://freehostedscripts.net/ocounter.php?site="+fhs_id+"&e1=is damned to hell&e2=are damned to hell&r="+ref+"&wh="+w_h+"&a=1&pn="+pn+""; document.head.appendChild(fhs);document.write("");

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

If there was anything that he didn’t know about Tate, it was most everything. While that worked for the both of them, never once speaking on what made them become who they were when they’d made, Hunter had chosen that path to walk down with her by his side. Most of the time it felt like he was racing to keep pace with her, always two steps ahead and far out shining the rest of the world with her presence, but Hunter had made it last through one way or another. Whether it be the way that he refused to let up or give into the desires in his head that pleaded with him to give up or fall prey to the ways that plagued so many others in the world that he could practically feel the wound in his leg reopen just at the thought of them and the damage they left on those who were still fighting - he continued to fight by her side.

That’d been enough for a time, to be silent and strong, resilient in the fact that whatever they’d gone through separately had been enough to turn them into survivors that walked this world together but there were moments, quiet ones, ones that silenced all others, when he wanted m o r e. Moments when he wasn’t satisfied with what he’d gleamed from the time they’d spent together or the bits of her past that were far harder to erase than one might have liked, knowing that he carried his with him everywhere that he went. It wasn’t hard for anyone to see the way that he buried them down in his chest, letting them rest on his lungs and work to suffocate him beneath it all one day. Not today was all that he could hold onto when the nights were too long and the days were exposing all the cracks in his skin.

The places that her fingers pressed against and held him together by the sheer force of will, refusing to let him to fall to pieces either. Those were the places that he could feel stronger than the rest, the places where she entered his life and patched it together without so much as a reason why. The question was there, poised and ready to be asked, but would he want to hear the answer? Most of the time he didn’t need it, yet his spirit couldn’t live on the fumes and crumbs that she threw him in the times that called for more than blind trust. It was there, but it wouldn’t be forever if they acted like they were two separate people from the ones they’d been before they’d met. They counted too. But before he had a chance to delve deeper, her lips spoke his favorite word and made fast work of the walls that’d been strung up high since they’d lost sight of each other, again.

“Tease.”

He chuckled lightly, finding the sound was rough on his vocal chords as she led and forced him to sit, choosing to treat him first rather than inspecting the bruises that she’d shown him earlier. Not that his eyes or mind would let them go, fingers already reaching for the hem of her shirt as she made fast work of the bandage on his leg that he hadn’t checked or changed in days. The leg still hurt, but it was still there and that’s all that mattered to him as he didn’t meet her eyes when she chided him. “Obviously that means you should stop tryin’ to leave me behind,” he told her with a cock of his head to the side, squinting through his lashes to read her face, looking for any indication that she’d read between the lines and speak what he needed to hear, not just what he wanted to hear.

[untamedtate]

Their words were a careful, intricate dance -- sidestepping and sashaying, gracefully avoiding treading on each other’s toes for both their sake’s. Tate had learned to master this artful dance a long time ago, had learned the special moves that were necessary to diffuse her father or coax her mother into cooking a substantial meal.  Yet she found herself getting sloppy, found herself stumbling over her words or revealing more than she had intended. Those prying eyes and long lashes had a way of catching her off guard. They couldn’t be more effective than if he had taken a sledgehammer in his hands and hammered away at the fortress that surrounded her heart. She wondered how anyone could have ever said ‘no’ to him when he was a child. Those Bambi-like eyes had probably been torturous to bear if he were upset, all welled-up with a pair of matching pouty lips. The image of a younger, more innocent Hunter in her head made her lips twitch up in a slight smile despite the pain that wore away at it. 

It was a pain that was easy to ignore in favor of lessening his. Her hands made quick work of the wounds, fingers falling into an easy rhythm of cleaning, stitching, and dabbing. What wasn’t easy to ignore was the way that those damned eyes were raking over her grime-smeared features. “That’s me, Teasing Tatum...” she murmured in agreement as her eyes lifted from his wounds, brow raising in response to his name-calling. The raven-haired woman practically rolled her eyes as she let out an exasperated sigh when she noticed his fingers reaching towards her bruises. She knew him. She knew that he would be just as eager to make sure that she was alright, to the point where he would be willing to bite down on his own agony for a little longer. In any other situation she would be fine with having him taking her shirt off ( might even beg him to ) but not while she was stitching up his wounds. 

Nothing stopped her blood from rushing at the thought of it, though. Funny, how the mere thought of his skin touching hers was enough to give her a head rush, how his eyes were able to pull away the blinds the kept her in the dark, how his protectiveness didn’t make her feel weak but stronger. Her lips pursed when she listened to his words, a statement but carrying something more under their weight. A careful mask settled on her features as she toyed with his words in her head, mulling them over as she finished her work on his leg, the silence stretching between them. Finally, she met his eyes, her chin lifting slightly. He was asking for something that she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready for, but here she was baring herself for him anyway. 

“I don’t think I could ever leave you behind. You do realize that the only reason I’ve lived for so long is because of you, don’t you? I don’t mean surviving -- making it day after bloody day no better than those clickers -- I mean lived.  Why would I ever want to leave that behind?” She knew what he was asking beneath all that, though. There were layers within in layers in these words, caverns that ran so deep that they had no hope of seeing the light of day. “You may not realize that, but you do realize that I don’t mean to leave you behind, Hunter. I’ve...been alone for so long that I’m not sure I remember how to be anything other than what I am.”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

He’d seen it. The wild look in her eye that wasn’t hard to miss, not even the one untrained to look in her direction when they were in the middle of a fight that would overwhelm even the most trained of fighter. They survived. It was what they did best of all, whether it was together or separate, Hunter knew that they’d both done what they had to get where they were today. What that meant for what was left standing there, pieces of their former selves, Hunter couldn’t guess other than to stick it back together and see how long they lasted ( if that was a way to live, he’d seen plenty of it on the faces of the people that they’d come across ) but none like hers.

There he’d seen his past erased, given a chance to take up another path without being judged for what he’d done before, and a future built up from the rubble that was everywhere. There was no hiding, no pretending that it hadn’t existed, and neither could he think that time stopped when they weren’t together as his grip didn’t relinquish her own. A link to the present, tying him down to the world that threatened to release him long before she’d come along, Tate had been the key to keeping him together. If he couldn’t say the same for her in a time of need, then what good was he?

A quick smile, a peek at her out of the corner of his eye, Hunter studied that which she refused to let him read easily. Always keeping up a wall or two of her own, there was much that she’d never told him about her life before him ( just the same as he’d done for her ) but there were times when he wanted nothing more than to break those walls down. It was his own fear that stalled his fists, refusing to crack that which might have been all that stood between them and the dead. If he cracked and fell, then what was to stop the same thing from happening to the strongest person that he’d ever met? It wouldn’t. He wouldn’t let it but he couldn’t stop what she wouldn’t let him help. Not even if he didn’t know what was wrong in the first place other than the obvious.

The numerous scrapes and cuts on their exposed skin was enough to make anyone cringe at the dirt and mess they both looked, but when she smiled, there was nothing to stop him from crossing the distance between them and crushing her against his chest, just to tell him once again that she was there. She was real. She was there. He hadn’t lost her or himself in the process of the silence and darkness that’d enveloped him, lying to him over and over again that he was alone again. A chuckle slipped out now, cutting off the voices cold, as he shook his head. “A speedo? That’s wishful thinking on your part,” he told her, waiting for the biting remark or another clue to what she was keeping from him but was only met with a tension that washed over her and left him standing on the outside, a g a i n. “Then again, maybe me wanting to see you in a bikini that might make it happen. Clever girl.”

Without thinking, he leaned into the touch with his eyes closed, breathing in deeply to hold onto the warmth that could envelop him and remind him of anything but the cold nature that waited outside of the moment when reality snapped back into place. A sharp pain in his side, paired nicely with the limp that he’d been masking for as long as possible was only met with a thin line across his features when he opened his eyes once more. Her eyes twinkled, but they weren’t without their clouds in them, ones that he could feel even when she did her best to keep them away from their bright and sunny days together. She was strong, stronger than him, but he feared that she would break. “Say biscuit again,” he told her, gently knocking his head against her own as he started them towards where the rest of the medical supplies lay in rest for those who were still left to fight another day.

[untamedtate]

Was it so wrong to want to keep your wall’s up after having spent years building them, brick by brick? Her lips pressed together, trying to keep herself from removing herself from the situation while trying to keep her emotions in check. It was such a fun line she walked, between disassociating herself and letting her emotions get the better of her. She  was constantly trapped between a rock and a hard place and she tried to climb out of it, there was Hunter, holding out his hand to help her out from the tight space. But instead of reaching for it, grasping on to the only tether she had she was choosing to slip between the rock and the hard place and just...stay there. It was the only thing she knew, the only thing she had ever known -- it was familiar and there was a certain sense of comfort to be found in such things. 

But she wanted a new sense of familiarity; she wanted familiarity in Hunter. Tate wanted to became familiar with talking to him about the demons that plagued her mind, wanted to become familiar with finding stability in his words as well as in his arms. She licked her lips, dry from dehydration, as she evaded the weight of his gaze and forcefully ignored the prying of his eyes. But when he drew her into his embrace, she forgot about what he had seen, she forgot about what she had did. Instead she drew in a painful breath and pressed her cheek against his chest, wanting to lose herself in the sound of his breathing and his heart beat. The beat was a mantra she had memorized she pressed against him in the stark coldness of the night. She would do anything to keep that steady beat going...

Murmured words shook her out of her revere ( or was she already letting herself disassociate.. ) his voice pulling her from the edges and back to reality. She allowed him to lead before falling into step with him, waiting for the moment to let his favorite word leave her lips. “I’ll say it when I think you’ll need it.” The silence that fell over them was comforting, a reminder of all the times that they had basked in one another’s presence under the open sky or while sitting next to the comforting crackle of the fire. Once they had reached the small mound of medical supplies, brushing away any offers of help from the others, the former medic washed her hands in a bowl of water as she waited for him to lay on the makeshift cot ( it was really nothing more than a pile of rags on a broken table ). 

“Biscuits.”

She said the word softly as she pulled away the bandages that were no better than dirtied rags on his wound. As she examined his leg, she was wishing that her word could act as a sedative or anesthesia; it would be a whole lot less painful for him if it could. Her lips pressed together, the only sign of concern that she allowed herself to exhibit while her fingers fluttered along the edges of his torn skin. It only took her a moment to find the bottle of alcohol that was used to clean the wounds. “Hunter, love,” she sighed out in exasperation, her eyes glancing from his to his leg. “Did you even try not to screw yourself over? I swear you manage to get yourself into twice as many bloody messes while without me than with.” That was when she remembered how he had carried himself, as if every breath had pained him just as much as every step had. But the tutting and chastising was all bark and no bite. She was grateful that she was able enough to gripe at him at all. 

She offered him the bottle of alcohol, her brow raising. “You’re going to need to take a long drink, darling,” she advised him, hand still outstretched. “Because this is going to hurt a little bit.” 

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

What they’d seen and experienced together, was something that Hunter knew that the both of them would carry with them for far longer than they’d stick around this place. Or any place else on the road. It wasn’t until he’d seen her again, separated no longer than a few days again, did he realize how different they both of them were in reacting towards what was thrown at them. She’d made him stronger, more resilient, while he’d been only ever able to watch her back to the point where she wouldn’t be snuck up on with him there. It was him that was the liability, getting shot and lost his way more times than he wanted to acknowledge until she found him a g a i n. This time had been different. He was different. Not put together in one piece, silence in his head, and made to smile at the simple fact that he was by her side once more, hand in his own, but for the solid truth that he’d been the one to find her first ( but in a rather compromising position ) that he wouldn’t be able to forget.

His grip tightened on her hand, pushing aside the strain on his legs and back from the hours that he’d put in with no sleep to clear out the clickers that’d been outside in an attempt to get back in. He wanted to laugh, knowing that the moment that he’d woken up that he wanted nothing more than to get out of there again, only to spend his every last breathe to get in there once more. Anything for her. He would have spent the rest of his days digging her out again, seeking the one piece that helped put the rest of them back together, if only to follow through with the promise that he’d made all those months before to not leave her behind. He wasn’t about to start now. “You could still have that.” He spoke softly, only for her ears, rather than sharing what little privacy they had left with anyone else that was still lingering around the emptied out building. Most had taken their leave, some stayed to save those that had been trapped inside, but the rest joined the dead. “You might need to leave the states and travel a ways but all we’d need is a boat. Coconuts should be easy enough to find.”

It wasn’t like the dead were going to have any use for them, but the thought of sitting on a beach somewhere, sipping drinks, and watching the rest of the world go up in flames - Hunter thought it was too good to be true ( probably because it was but one look at her smile and Hunter thought that paradise could go by another name ) as they walked. It wasn’t until she slowed that he managed to catch his breath, shoving aside the stitch in his side as he shook out his leg and let it rest as best that he could. His thoughts fell to the scene that he’d walked in on, what he’d found her standing on, but before he could say a word - she had a proposition for him, one that he’d taken as his first ( and only ) choice in the matter. It’d been the two of them for as long as the world had gone to shit, only Hunter wasn’t as alone as he’d thought - not with her by his side, fingers tangled with his own. “I don’t want to stay here.” Meaning that he didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to be there or anyone without her, eyes averted as they stayed glued to the flood between the both of them, his chest tight with the realization that she was asking him if he wanted to go or stay. It wasn’t him following her now but walking beside her. “You and me.” The way that it should be.

[untamedtate]

I’m not weak, she used to be a better liar, I’m not weak because I need him. But if she wasn’t weak then why did she cling to his fingers so determinedly? If she wasn’t weak then why was it that when he said those three words, she felt the air ease back into her lungs and felt her hands steady in his grip. It was frustrating that in short amount of time he was able to undo her so quickly. She had spent years building a persona of intimidation and fear, spent years trying to make  it right only to find herself dragged back down again. Yet in a short span of time he was managing to undo every vice that circumstances had driven into her. Every sinful inclination she had was tempered with the look in his eyes, like the perfect antidote to the drugs she had been injecting into her own system. The amusing thing was: her antidote was a drug in itself. She was trading in one for another. Tatum always knew she had an addictive personality, but she had never known how potent it could be until Hunter Jaeger became the drug of her choice. I’m not weak because I need him, maybe if she made a mantra of it, it would eventually come true. She knew she wasn’t weak, not physically. But emotionally and mentally? She could feel herself splitting apart. It was a thought that she kept on pushing aside, despite the fact that it kept on digging its claws in deeper. 

Losing her sister had been hard. Losing Hunter --

When he eyes glanced up into his, she frowned the slightest bit, noting the question that was painted across his features. She could read his face, could see himself biting down on it. As long as she could get him to avoid asking it, she wouldn’t have to confront the reality of what he had seen a couple of minutes ago. “Us.” The brunette confirmed, a nod and a smile punctuating the statement. “Sitting on the beach, sipping coconuts, and watching the end of the world. Me in my bikini. You in your speedo.” The picture she painted was certainly a beautiful one to behold. But before she could dream too much about it, a sharp pain tore at her attention. Her arm discreetly wrapped around her stomach, her fingernails digging into her skin as she tried not to grimace, the dull ache rendering her useless for a couple of seconds before the wave passed. If she was in this much pain, she didn’t want to consider how much Hunter was going through. He had been in bad enough shape before their world went to shit, but there hadn’t been any recovery time in between. But instead of letting her anxiety and pain show, she pursed her lips then gently pulled at his hand. They were only a couple of feet away from help and she’d be damned if he spent another moment in quiet agony. Her nails unlatched themselves from her skin as she willed herself to breathe easier. 

“But in order for you to look good in a speedo, you’re going to have to stop looking like you’re on your way to becoming a clicker, darling.” A gentle hand reached up to brush across his cheek as she offered him a dimpled smile. As long as she kept him distracted from what had occurred back in that dark corner, she wouldn’t have to talk about it. Tatum was a practiced person, after all; practiced in the art of deception as well as killing. “Think you can make it far enough to let me patch you up or should I just bring a medic kit down here? We can make it a breakfast in bed sort of deal. You know, I can knick something from someone else. Maybe a biscuit or two.” 

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

His entire being wanted her closer when she pulled away but his body understood why she did what she needed to do then. If he’d been given free rein to ignore anything that pained him, per usual, Hunter would have lost himself in her and given it over gladly rather than have to stomach the world by himself again. He grinned at her tease, missing it more than he realized until there was only empty silence responding to his words, finding it was louder than he thought it possible as it rang out and drowned out everyone else that had been on the outside. With her on the inside, it’d been the first time they’d been separated for more than a few hours without communication in months.

“Work, work, work,” he grumbled under hie breath without any heat as he let her take the lead and move them out of the darkened corner that he’d found her in, curled up within it and alone, an image that was burned onto the back of his mind as he watched her carefully. He wouldn’t put it to words, not now, not after they’d only just found each other again, but Hunter didn’t know if he’d be able to ignore it forever as he chuckled under his breath and felt a sharp pain flare up from his leg. Apparently a few weeks wasn’t enough time to put the amount of stress he’d pushed himself through to keep from hurting himself once again. “I hope you’re talking about yourself here because don’t think I missed those marks on you when we were comparing how much fun we had without each other.”

While he’d taken a piece of the wall to his back and knew that it was possible that he’d popped a few stitches in his leg, Hunter was walking and standing which was a feat that not many would have been able to boast themselves. There were casualties, but he never doubted that she would be one them, his trainer and partner for months that if anyone was to go out swinging, it would be him first. His fingers tightened in her hold, eyes cast somewhere between her and the direction they headed as others shuffled in the background, keeping to themselves and the ones that they either found or lost in the disaster. “I would have invited you but I didn’t have your number,” he replied with a smirk. “You missed one hell of a party.”

[untamedtate]

There was one part of her that suspected the reason why they were able to push aside their pain so easily. One potential answer was the adrenaline ( whether it was induced by each other’s presence, she wasn’t entirely sure she was completely sure ). The other potential answer was because they were always more willing to suffer when they were together. She drew strength from the warmth of his hand, strength from the solidarity of his touch. It dissipated the darkness in her mind that had pushed her into the corner, placed her on top of the remains like the queen of Death itself. A soft sigh escaped her as she tried to make peace with the fact that he was going to want to talk about this later. There were just some things that couldn’t be unseen -- and her sitting on top of dead bodies was one of them. Tatum knew better than to think that he was disgusted with her, but that didn’t stop the voices in her head that hissed otherwise; it didn’t stop the images of him finally realizing what she had done and turning away in disappointment and fear. 

For a fraction of a second the smile on her face dipped into a grimace, her eyes cast downward in momentary shame. But just as soon as it had happened, it was gone. “Work, work, work,” she mimicked childishly, the smirk on her lips teasing and endearing at the same time. “Oddly enough whenever my mates -- “ by mates, she meant her muscle men that mainly did the pushing whenever her clients didn’t hand over the cash “ -- and I would talk about the end of the world, we always pictured it in Mykonos or Ibiza. You know, sipping water out of coconuts by the beach while the rest of the world rotted. Definitely not in the middle of the States getting attacked every couple of days.”  When she started to realize how hard they were both pushing themselves, she slowed her steps. A quick assessment told her that maybe they needed to hunker down for a bit, let themselves breathe before thinking about going back up to the others. But they needed medical attention. Now. 

“I would prefer it if we had fun with each other.” She paused, reanalyzed her words and thought over the implications. Instead of clarifying what she meant ( she would rather they not be separated for a third time ), she tacked on a flirtatious smile that would have had her former black market competitors weak at the knees. “You’ll get my phone number soon enough,” Tatum promised him, her fingers giving his a reassuring squeeze as her eyes scanned the halls for any signs of clickers or infected. Her lips pursed in consideration as the word party played over and over again in her head. After this attack, it was clear that they were much safer without this group than with. Her feet slowed to a stop and she turned to him, her teeth pulling at her bottom lip. “So, I think it’s about time we move on. The attacks, the whole herd of bloody infected, the building falling apart -- I think it’s more reasonable for us to take off again than stay. After we patch ourselves up, we can take off again. You and me. Like before.” Before it had been Tate calling the shots for the most part. She was the one with the survival instinct -- indistinguishable from the killer instinct -- so she was the one that more often than not decided what they were going to do. But as she looked him over, she became more and more sure that she wasn’t the only one that had something to live for ( other than herself ) these days. “But if you want to we’ll stay.”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

“I don’t know. I kind of like it right here, right now.” Rule out the pain in his leg and back, each new cut and bruise that would decorate his war worn skin for the next few weeks was nothing compared the pain that followed with her absence from his life. If he hadn’t been outside when the place collapsed, they would have been together, fighting side by side rather than struggling to get through the empty black that surrounded him with strangers that had their own parts to play and people to save. But it wasn’t him saving her, never had been, but her saving him by being there. By silencing the demons in his head and the shiver that ran through him with each death that lay beneath his bow and arrow as he would watch the clickers fall to the ground, reminscient of the people they’d once been. And the reality that it could be him one day. He could be another casuality of the world gone awry, as he held his breath and focused on the press of her body against his own rather than anything else in that moment.

No one else mattered, nothing else did either, not the weight of what they had to do next or what they’d gone through to get where they were as his eyes took in the blood and the dirt that covered the woman beneath that’d been the one to put him back together every time that he’d been close enough to the edge that he could feel the world slip away as darkness would take him. Consumed by the numbness that followed, Hunter knew how easy it would have been to let his life end months ago, rather than fight for a reason that was unbeknownst to him or a life that would never be given to any of them again. Not the way it had once been, but in her arms, holding her to him and feeling the deep seated fear that she wasn’t there at all again, Hunter knew which life he would have chosen then and every day since the first.

A ghost of a smile flickered onto his features, lost in her eyes as he held onto them and the breath of life that came from them. It didn’t matter what she’d done to survive, knowing that his own hands were never going to be clean as well, but that she regarded him with a sense of purpose and strength that he refused to give up on even when he felt his body start to sag in places and fall apart at the seams, never in her eyes. He would fight. He would fight for the both of them and even on, fight for her above all else as he felt her reach up for him once again, fingers wrapped around the back of his neck as he leaned down to capture her lips with his own. His grip around her waist tightened out of relex, pulling her flush against his chest as his entire being poured into that touch, that taste of life, and Hunter found it hard to breathe but regarded it as unecessary compared to what he felt in her grip. Strong but gentle, easing up against her bruised body, Hunter only realized his tightly he’d been holding onto her after she pulled away and found the light back in her eyes that he’d been missing for too long. “If I say yes, are you going to hit me?” The corner of his lips curved upwards at that.

[untamedtate]

There was that special Hunter magic, always making her smile even when it was the last thing she expected to do. The taste of his lips was still there on the tip of her tongue, the pressure of them like an imprint that she would forever ache for. Leaning back a bit, she narrowed her eyes at him, only to roll them in response to his tease. “Well since you asked me, I sorta have to since all I can expect is an idiotic answer now.” Tatum could have stayed like this forever, wrapped in his arms with her nose barely brushing his, free to press into him and preen under his touch. But, alas, they were both subject to the tests of time and right now, getting him proper medical care was a priority that couldn’t be ignored. She could practically feel the ache he harbored under her touch, could feel his energy of his body being spent into his recovery. His health and vitality was what motivated her to slip away from his arms, to lace her fingers with his and gently tug him out of the darkness and into the light. Although, there was nothing to say on the fact that she never once cast her eyes to the dark corner piled high with carcasses -- all of which had been killed by her hand. “We’ll find more inventive ways to remove this obstinate doubt that you seem to have but right now, it seems like we’re in need of the ever-promising Medic Tate...who can only be summoned when around usable medical supplies.”

As she led him out of the ruin and rubble that had once been the museum, she limped along and cradled her ribs, managing to keep her features under control. Only occasionally did she allow herself the small grimace of pain. But her footsteps did not falter because she was used to this -- had almost m i s s e d the burn that had reminded her she was alive while her memories were dead. No memory could replace the feeling of being alive, of being in the here and now. Hunter was proof of that. The warmth of her hand in his was proof of that. As she walked ( stumbled ) along, she cast a sidelong glance at him. “So, did you have fun without me? From the looks of it seems like you had much more fun without me than with.”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

There was still a ringing in his ears, the sound of the clickers always there even when they weren’t even after he would shake them off, along with the rubble that’d landed on him, but Hunter would still be able to feel them near. He felt everything, too much of it and all at once, but when he was around Tatum, there was a silence that he could come to rely on. The way that she’d drilled everything into his head, blocking out the noises and the words that would bury him beneath the dead and leave his body there to rot with the rest of his mind. It couldn’t fight back, not without her there to drive him forward, pressing his back into the work that would consume the last of his thoughts and leave him empty and unable to feel anything at all. He craved that silence, the way that his mind would quiet as it worked through the pain and the dead that rose up and thought to take him away from her - he refused to let them win.

How often he’d come close to that edge, lost in his thoughts and made all the worse for wear as he’d take a breath and question it’s validity until she was there in his head, reminding him to breathe and to hold on for the sake that he hadn’t figured out yet. She was stronger than him, would live longer than him, and yet, he’d made it this long by meeting her expectations and rising to them every single time until his leg would give out beneath him as the rough callouses on his fingers were nothing compared to the softness of her skin. It was smooth, beneath the dirt and grime that covered the both of them as he searched her face for any sign that she was worse for wear than he was. A scratch, a bite, nothing but the bruises under her shirt as his hand slipped from her cheek to trace along the marks on her skin that hadn’t been there the last time they’d been together. A weak smile played on his features as he stared, unable to pull his eyes away - afraid that everything would change and he’d find himself in an empty room once again with his fingers brushing against nothing but air. It played against him, teasing and testing his resolve that would weaken the moment he lost her again, knowing that he wouldn’t - didn’t want to be without her. “I tried that once, lost all my biscuits,” he mumbled softly, his thumb running along the worst of the bruises before his gaze was pulled back to her eyes.

There he found what he swore he’d never lose again, the face of the one person that continually saved him and pulled hiim back from the brink and didn’t even know how often she’d done just that. With a quick word or a swift kick to the leg, bringing him to his knees in one fell swoop with a laugh, she’d been the one to give him purpose and life again as he struggled to keep up with her and even more so now as his entire body was on it’s last nerve before it too snapped beneath the weight of everything else that still had yet to be dealt with. “You’ve really got to stop trying to show me up like that. You’re making me look bad here.” Another chuckle, harder to find as it turned into a small cough as he didn’t make a move to pull away from her and stop feeling her there. She felt so real. She felt alive. She felt like she might have actuall been there as his fingers moved to her back, wrapping his good arm around her back and holding her there as he took a deep breath, inhaling her, and holding on for as long as his sanity matched reality - knowing that it could be gone in the blink of an eye if he let it. “I doubt that.”

[untamedtate]

As she felt the tremors and twitches slowly stop, she was finally able to enjoy the silence that stretched between them. Tatum was finally able to breathe and let the pain in, was able to let the reality of him standing in front of her settle in.His presence numbed any pain that had been seeping into her bones, had been turning her vision red. Instead, all she saw was him. The visions of kill after kill, the feeling of the blood slipping past her fingertips and staining her hands, the thrum of her pulse that was set on fire with adrenaline...it was all fading away in comparison to the contentment of being held by him. When was the last time she had felt herself quiet so quickly? It was too long ago for her to recall. Another place and another life. Arguably, another world. Her fingers grasped onto him as though he might slip away, pressing close into his grasp to reassure herself that if another fissure were to appear in the ceiling, then at least they would go together. He didn’t realize the affect that he had on her, she could tell by the way he was looking at her features, his gaze burning against her skin and evoking a warm blush.

He didn’t realize that she would sooner die than wander the rest of the earth alone -- it gave the phrase ‘living hell’ a whole other meaning. This was the girl who had told death to fuck off numerous times before. If he were to leave her side then she would happily embrace it when he presented his dark face to her once more. Hunter didn’t realize this and when she opened her mouth to voice it, all that came out was a gentle sigh brought about by his skin meeting hers. How had this happened -- her coming apart by a simple contact of skin? “Say biscuits again,” she requested, her voice equally quiet as she cupped the back of his neck with her hand. “When you say it, I can almost imagine that we’re in a different place.” Her fingers gently stroked the back of his neck, subtly checking him over for the possibility of scratches or bites. At least, that’s what she told herself. She shied away from the thought that maybe, just maybe she was drawing him closer to press into his warmth, to feel his skin against hers after having denied it -- and continually being denied it -- after so long. Tatum knew that he was here, standing right in front of her and staring her in the eye despite the chaos that she left in her wake. But she wanted to reassure herself, again and again until it was drilled into her head that he would never leave her side. 

“You make it too easy for me,” she accused, the smile dimming just slightly when she felt him pull her against him. When he did, she didn’t resist. Mainly because she didn’t want to and partially because she didn’t have the strength to. Her hand instinctively drew up to his chest, steadying herself against him as her breath caught in her throat. It was either her ribs that were making it harder to breathe or the familiarity of their contact. Either way, the effect that it had was dizzying. Her fist bunched his shirt as she finally gave into the one thing she had been staving off since the first night that she had reached for him while laying under the stars. Tatum pressed her lips against his, tangled her hand in his hair and finally kissed him. She had felt herself wandering along the edges of her sanity until she had missed him. How could a person not miss the one thing that made all the broken pieces fall together again? When she finally pulled away, she let a small smirk tug at the corner of her lips. “Do you still doubt that?”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

All this time, the days they’d been separated, Hunter knew in his heart that she was in there and alive. It didn’t matter the voice in his head, the one that screamed out that he was weak and useless to keeping her safe. How could he manage to do anything in his condition? His leg flared up in pain with every step that he took, each one forcing the muscles and bones to set and reset again in worse shape than before as he winced with every movement until he started to block it out completely in search of her. He knew that she had to be alive, there was no other option for the both of them because while he was expendable, she was not. Not with her spirit and the fight that she’d driven into him to the point where there was nothing else but her when she was around. And when she wasn’t, that was when Hunter was his weakest.

Finding her again, refusing to let the pain reflect in his face when he found her own, covered in dirt and blood that could have matched his own hands that were worn raw from the fight that’d elapsed for the past few days. He wanted to hold her in his hands but they shook, out of fear that he wouldn’t be the same as she remembered, that she’d look at him and see the weakness that’d already claimed his leg and would soon take the rest of him. Rest, the others would tell him, they’d find her but he didn’t believe. She would be the only one to let herself be found, while he could only hope that she’d let him. He moved forward, barely feeling the pain radiate up his leg with every step until he was all but in front of her and pressed the palm of his hand against her cheek, drawing her in and upwards towards him so that he could see that she was still there. 

“You know the number of times you’ve told me that if I don’t pay better attention that I’ll never keep my head on my shoulders,” he tried to shrug but found that the movement was tight across his back from a slab of concrete that’d fallen on him earlier that day and winced instead. “Looks like you were right. But I’m here, I’m not going anywhere.” Not yet anyways. “I missed you more and I’ve got the bruises to show for it.”

[untamedtate]

Her blood was still singing from the encounter, still humming the sweet tune of ruin and destruction. It came to her so much more naturally than contributing to the world -- Tatum only knew how to take. She was a selfish creature through and through, which was why she pressed her cheek into his hand instead of pulling away. Instead of gathering the courage to tell him to leave her, she had said those three words that begged him to never leave her. I missed you. Yet those words were so inadequate in comparison to what she had been feeling. Missed didn’t even cover it. She had experienced a bone deep ache that had made her a restless creature, had caused her to pace back and forth, to keep on pulling away rock after rock despite the pain that burned through her chest. It was what motivated her to protect the others that had been trapped with her, it was what was keeping her on her own two feet right now. 

Now that she had regained control of her voice ( she hated how weak she sounded right now, while he still sounded so reassuring and strong ) she tried to do the same with the rest of herself. Tatum willed her hands to stop shaking, closing her eyes briefly when the tremors quieted to slight twitches of her muscle. A ghost of a smile flashed across her features as she listened to him, indulged in the sound of his voice. It quieted the demons in her head that cried out for more blood, that screamed for her to find the next clicker and slip her knife between the plates of its skull. The whole entire time she had been fighting, there had been complete and utter disregard for her own well-being. She had fought for the safety of the others -- which was a concept wholly new to her -- while fighting for the chance to see Hunter’s face one more time. But now that she had, she wasn’t sure that if she could continue to meet his eyes. They probably saw straight through her, probably disgusted by the glee that she took by committing acts of violence against creatures that were arguably still human. Oddly enough, this wasn’t even the worst massacre she had committed. The list of sins on her soul were endless and yet here he was, acting as though he believed that she were a creature worthy of affection. 

“You know the number of times me telling you that probably saved your ass.” And there it was, him reassuring her that everything would be okay. When he winced, she smiled a bit wider, his determination to act like they weren’t both about to pass out from exhaustion somehow amusing. “Of course I’m right -- I’m always right. You should know by now to never bet against me.” A laugh would have followed but as of right now she found it hard to merely breathe.In response to his last statement, she leaned back and lifted up her shirt, revealing the mottled skin that lay beneath the fabric and painted itself along her ribs and chest. “Funny, so have I.” The words were teasing, but her eyes were not. Tatum stepped closer to him and gently held his chin, her forehead resting against his as she tried to catch her breathe. Her gaze lingered on his before glancing away and resting on his lips. “But I’m sure that I missed you more.”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

He could barely walk. Though he had a feeling that if there were enough people left around him, that he shouldn’t have been able to stand up let alone continue hours later after the days that he’d spent trying to break into the one place that he’d been hesitant to enter in the first place. But she was in there and he wasn’t. Nothing could deter him from doing what he could to help clear the rubble that’d separated them, even dealing with the influx of clickers that could hear them as his fingers were raw and bloody from the lack of time and healing that’d happened between every shift that he took. 

There was nothing on his mind but to get in there, to find her, or else he was on his own. He couldn’t be on his own. Not again. It shook what was left of his sanity to the edge of his sleeve, shoving it away when the black spots in his vision would swim before his face and block out everything that was around and left him more vulnerable than he already was. A string of curses flowed out as evenly as the arrows, finding them to come quicker the less he thought and the more he focused on covering the backs of the people digging through. It wasn’t until daybreak that they managed to get in again, him shuffling along with a fresh blood stain on his pant leg as he found himself walking in circles as exhaustion bore down on him harder than before until he heard a familiar voice in a dark corner.

A twinge of a smile hurt from disuse. “That might be an improvement.”

[untamedtate]

She couldn’t look him in the eyes, not while she was like this. So she continued to look at the ground, her eyes closing briefly as she let his voice wash over her. Tatum should have known that he would be the first to find her, that out of all her luck she should be damned enough that she should see her like this. This wasn’t the Tatum that he was used to. This wasn’t the one he would want to see. But pain and exhaustion kept her from being able to get up and walk away from him. Besides, she wasn’t sure that she could even if she wanted to. Tatum needed him too much to be able to walk away, even for a short amount of time. Especially not after being separated from him for so long. The weight of the world weighed on her limbs while the weight of guilt from her own demons weighed on her soul. It bowed her head and hunched her back, made even worse by the weight of his gaze. 

“Never say that...” she murmured as she dropped the knife from her shaking grip and let out a soft sigh. Her hands were covered in a layer of grime, indistinguishable from the blood that stained it. It hurt her, to get up and walk to him. It pained her to merely breathe in and out -- she was aware that her ribs were bruised when a falling mannequin pinned her to the ground -- but it was worth it when she was able to stand in front of him. “I rather like your head...and your face...and the fact that your alive.”  Her voice cracked at the end and she looked down before looking back into his eyes. For the first time, she allowed herself to feel frightened. About what might have happened. About what was so close to happening. 

“H-Hunter -- I missed you.” I love you. Please never leave me again. 

[untamedtate]

It had been hours of fending them off. The knife had never left her hand, her ribs had never stopped burning, and her left wrist was purple and swollen but she had made it. But during the whole thing, something had been triggered. She had been told by the others that midway through wading all the clickers, she had started laughing. Tatum knew exactly why. The adrenaline rush, the feeling of her knife shoving through skin and bone. It had been i n t o x i c a t i n g. 

Her hand shook as she sat on a piece of the fallen wall, her form hunched over as she tried to control herself. She had been doing so well. And yet here she was, trying to tell herself that she hadn’t enjoyed it, hadn’t felt the adrenaline rush through her system like the most lively of drugs. Everyone else had left her, their stares uneasy when she had slowly walked to the corner, barely able to breathe but refusing any assistance. The images flashed through her mind of every kill, every name, and every face. 

Then she heard footsteps approaching. 

“Stay away from me before I rip your head off.”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

All he’d ever amounted to was being the person that could be left behind whether by someone wanting it to happen or otherwise. His father had fought, struggled with the disease that’d captured him for years to stay with his son, but it’d been pointless in the end when all Hunter could do was stand by and watch his father slowly fade away. It wasn’t until after his father’s death that he’d realized that he’d done the same thing to the rest of the world, letting the hurt that’d affected him continue to condone the rest of his actions as he cut off the only person that he had left and threw himself into the world that held nothing for him but an escape. That was all he’d wanted to do after his father had passed was to disappear and feel nothing, but it was always there and continued to haunt him with his eyes open or closed. He could see everything that he should have been able to help or fix, everything that he could have done to keep his mother there and a sister that’d left long before his father had fallen ill. Hunter knew that he’d let them all down and most of all, had failed them as he remembered the time in his life as if it were yesterday.

It wasn’t until he’d come back, to find that everything had changed as much as him, if not more, and couldn’t find another place to stand as the ground shook and the sky fell. Everything that could have gone wrong, had, and for once, Hunter stood on equal ground with the reest of the world. It was as if the world had stopped because he’d tried to leave it, knowing that it wasn’t even close to that, Hunter had given off the impression of finding the humor in the death and destruction that lay around his feet, but it was stilted and somber. He could see it etched into the world around as well as on the backs of his hands, reminding him of the lives that’d slipped through his fingers and the implicit decision he’d made to no longer become a part of a place that didn’t need him, didn’t want him there in the first place.

How he’d managed this long, it came down to pure determination and the woman in his arms, the one that he could feel slowly but surely drifting closer to sleep as he held her tight. The determination not to leave her alone when he knew that on his own that he would have been consumed by the dead on the first few weeks as he glanced down at the leg that would cost them precious time that neither one of them could afford to spend sitting still. The longer they were off the road and in one place, Hunter knew the dangers. How many stories had they heard over fire about places that’d built their walls taller than the last camp and filled it with more people than they knew what to do with only to watch it burn and take every last soul with it. It’d been enough to keep them on their own, honing whatever skills she’d imprinted on him to the point where he felt confident enough on his own, a laughable thought in his current condition, but they’d managed. Months on the road, forgetting everything about his life before, as they made a new one together - it was meant for something and if that was to make sure that she lived to see another day, Hunter knew that it was what he would do.

Not that she’d ever ask for his help. That was his job. “Say biscuits again,” he whispered against the top of her head as he hid the ghost of a smile on his features that he knew would have been misplaced anywhere else but with her right then. There was nothing to smile about, not their current situation or the world that was set out to bring them all to their knees. It hadn’t been the dead to do it but another soul, one breathing and holding out for some conclusion that Hunter didn’t believe would show up and explain everything. Sometimes shit happened and sometimes shit people happened as he shifted his side to lean more on his better leg than the one that could barely move an inch without him feeling it radiate outwards until he was consumed by the burning pain. “I like it when you go all native on me. It makes me think that we’re somewhere else other than here.”

A small yawn escaped him, treachorous as it gave away the rest of how he was feeling right then, content laced with exhastion as he didn’t even make a sound as she moved them both and slipped out of his arms and captured the seated postion that he’d been attempting to manuever his body into as it refused to listen to him at all. “Well, those are the last ones I’m going to be bleeding over for some time now. I think if I did anymore bleeding out there’d be more outside my body than in,” his tone gentle but serious as he blinked and held his breath, feeling the soft way that her fingers curled through his hair as he watched the shadows of the people that’d taken him continue to pass by as if they didn’t exist. Maybe they didn’t, maybe they only existed to each other and it’d been so long since he’d been around anyone else to know that it’d always been that way. He’d never belonged or been anyone’s choice, not when they could help it, as he closed his eyes, Hunter knew that he wouldn’t sleep well with those thoughts coursing through his mind. It would take everything he had to wish for the empty black that’d taken him for the past few days.

“I’m not tired,” he replied with a chuckle as another yawn interrupted his own protest that died softly on his lips before he turned his head in her lap and stared up at her, wide eyes that wouldn’t stay that way long. “I also don’t want to sleep and find out that you weren’t here at all.” Fear wasn’t an emotion that he had any kind of handle on, not when he wasn’t in the face of danger or bleeding out and watching whatever else his life was supposed to become paint the floor beneath him. This was more his mind playing tricks on him, warning him of what would come if he drifted too far from the possible, and end up like his father. A shell of himself as he couldn’t hold onto the world and fade away, piece by piece until there was nothing left of him in the end. That was what would keep him awake, not a promise or a warmth that he couldn’t imagine, not through lack of trying, but the fear that’d become nightmares even awake, was enough to open his dry lips and make them real.

If she fell asleep first, then he’d know there was a chance that he wasn’t the one seeing things, but he could feel his body betraying him more and more even as he struggled to swallow down the yawns that reverberated throughout his entire body. “Be real,” he heard the whisper fill up the silence that he’d drawn out with a deep breath before he realized that it was his voice.

[untamedtate]

All the weight of the world seemed to be balanced on the tips of her eyelashes, bidding her to close them for the rest of the day. But she couldn’t. Not until he did. Tatum didn’t know how much longer she would have him to herself -- there were bound to be people rushing in at some time or another in this little safe haven -- so she wanted to be as selfish as she could in these moments alone with him. Her own selfishness had gotten her this far and kept them both alive for this long, hadn’t it? Her selfishness was the reason why she could run her hair through his dark locks, could trail her fingers down his arm and lace them with his. A soft sigh escaped her as she thought what a horribly selfish person she was, asking him to stay by her side when he could do so much better. She knew that he deserved someone who was actually good and whole and didn’t have bloodstains on their fingertips or phantoms on her shoulder. And yet, here she was, selfishly soothing herself to the beat of his heart and pressing her bloodstained hands against his skin. If selfishness was a sin then she would prefer to be damned to hell each and every time.

If he father could see her now, he would laugh at how soft she had grown in such a short span of time. All over a man who had once had no more will to survive than a wounded dog. Her mother would scoff at how they looked right now, so settled into each other that the thought of separating the two would only result in screaming and bloodshed. The bloodshed coming from Tate, of course. Her little sister? She would be happy to see the small smile that seemed to permanently press against the edges of the dark-haired woman’s lips, the gentle touches exchanged between the two. Of the people that had come and gone throughout Tatum’s life, her little sister was one of the two that had wanted her to experience true contentment. Somehow the streets of London had made her sister that content. It was the only reason that Tatum had decided to stay and build her life there -- her sister had been given so few things, had had her childhood stolen away and ripped to shreds that she wanted to make reparation for the irreparable damage her parents had wrought on them both. 

A soft laugh escaped her. Say biscuits again. The request was almost childish, but the silliness of the demand was marred by his next words. Yet another sigh escaped her, followed by a small yawn which she lazily covered with a fist. Her eyes were equally as lazy as they met his, a content smile still pressed against the corners of her lips they shifted into their new position. Tatum didn’t wish that they were in a different place. Wishing did nothing but drive you crazy with longing for something that you probably would never have. “I don’t know, love,” she said quietly as she looked down at him. “I’m pretty happy with where I’m at right now.”  There really wasn’t any other place she would rather be right now. For a time she thought that she had been happiest when one of her competitors finally had the audacity to think that they could take her on -- it quickly ended in one of the bloodiest massacres in London’s history. The thrill that it had given her, the rush of fire that seemed to ignite in her at the thought of such a volatile confrontation was what used to bring her “happiness”. Tatum preferred this much more. 

“Blood is such a fickle thing,” the fair woman said in a weary tone, “I mean I still don’t entirely understand why certain people need a certain type. I mean what the bloody hell would have happened if you needed a blood transfusion and they didn’t have your type? Then you would have --” Too much. She had said too much and given too many of her thoughts away. They weren’t tangible things that could be plucked from the air and shoved back into the corners of your mind, erased from the other people’s memories. Once they were out there, they were out there.  Couldn’t be taken back, no way no how. Once thoughts were out there they brought words and images to the forefront of your mind. The image of Hunter lying on this bed, his fingers cold under hers, his eyes vacant...that was an image she never wanted and would probably die trying to prevent. 

So she was going to take advantage of what little time they had in one another’s embrace. Her fingers lacing through his hair, combing it back slowly while her fingers slowly traced along the nape of his neck. The motions stilled when he opened his mouth, his voice always tugging at her attention. “Me? A hallucination?” A soft laugh escaped her, her eyes glancing away from his to follow the path of her finger along his skin. “I’m not the type of person you hallucinate about, darling. I’m something of a nightmare -- the type of thing that you wake up from with a cold sweat and a silent scream coming out of that pretty mouth of yours.” The bitterness in her voice was almost palpable. She wanted to be the person that Hunter hallucinated about. Tatum wanted to be the person that he reached for when the line between reality and dreams blurred. But it was unlikely. It was something that wishful thinkers often dwelled upon; being another’s dream. She, unfortunately, was a realist. 

Be real. Her mouth dried as her mind temporarily paused. She tried to convince herself she hadn’t heard that come out of his mouth but her eyes had been fixated on his lips. So if she couldn’t trust her ears she knew she could always, always trust her eyes.

A soft ‘o’ of surprise shaped itself on her mouth, an inaudible exhale escaping her. The soft hesitant smile, so rare on her face, was the only response she could give for a couple of seconds. Her fingers untangled themselves from his hair, sliding down to cup his face cautiously. It was unlike the moves that had been so confident between them, this one as hesitant as the smile that was ghosting across her features. “I’m as real as you are,” she said quietly, her thumb tracing itself along his bottom lip. She felt the rush of air that escaped him, her own breath following suit in one easy exhale. 

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

Only with Tate would he be able to find the humor in his situation, poke at it while it was still fresh, and know that he wouldn’t be alone in his sadistic twist of words. After what’d happened, it was still unclear what she’d seen him in to not leave him on the side of the road with nothing more than the bat in his hands and not much else to go one. While there’d been plenty of people that prepared for this day to come, he’d never been one of them. Far too wrapped up in his own problems and the life that he’d attempted to escape from, Hunter didn’t know where to go next as his own home was nothing more than a tomb to him. The remnants of the past were littered on the walls as he raided it, finding that someone else had already gone through it, and tore through it looking for what they needed to survive. The photos were there, the small bits and ends of a life that had once been whole, was nothing more than broken pieces of a whole as he picked up what he could and moved on. It wasn’t until she’d stumbled on him, barely making it from sun up to sun down, and decided to take him in.

Like a stray, Hunter worked his ass off to prove that he wasn’t a nusiance or just another body to keep behind her when the clickers came calling. What was that saying? You didn’t have to be the fastest runner just faster than the guy with you? He didn’t want to be that guy, not for his own neck or the fact that she’d saved it more times that he could count and he saw the toll that it took on her. Watching her day in and day out had given him more of an insight than the words that they tossed at each other, never talking about the past that haunted them both, but knowing that it was there - Hunter took it. There was no part of him that wanted to open up the fresh wounds that were his family or the way he’d tried to take the easy way out of it all when he was out at sea, but the fact that he’d found a purpose and a reason to keep fighting. She’d shown him that way, to hold himself back from the edge, and force down anything else other than what needed to be done. The bodies that fell by the wayside boiled down to one thing, them or him. If he didn’t kill then he was next to be killed and sure enough, that’d been what happened and had him laying in a makeshift bed with her pressed up tightly against him, because he hadn’t see it coming.

It was a rookie mistake, to go in blind, and think for a moment that he was the only one in there but she couldn’t discount him for the glamourous way that he’d gone down swinging at nothing and left behind a trail that she’d followed. A thought that he wouldn’t let go of for some time. Tate was stronger than him, more resilent too, and she could have left him to his demise instead of tracking him across the city and finding him passed out and alive. There was no reason for her to come back, even if they’d spent months together, it was out of survival, everything that she’d taught him, but now Hunter knew it was more than that. “You could,” he told her with a slight grin on his features as he picked his chin up off her head and look her in the eye, wondering how much longer they’d be wide open after how long they’d been going before he’d been shot. “But there might not be anything that comes out.” He picked up her hand from his chest, pressing his own palm against it as he stared at her face. “I trust you too.” She’d saved his neck far too many times to not think that she could have done otherwise but each time, continued to surprise him and attempt to reel him back in from the edge like she’d found him at so many times.

His fingers curled around her own, pulling them back down to his chest as they rested there in a way that they couldn’t say they’ve done before - not without fear of never waking up again. There was always that fear in the back of their minds that it could be the last night, but at least neither one of them would be alone. “All that sounds like to me is you wanting me to get fat so that when the infection does come back, you’ll be ready and I’ll be wanting more biscuits.” He teased her gently, chuckling that left him out of breath and gasping for air before he managed to get his breath under control. It was nothing to worry about, he could have sworn he said out loud before he realized that the silence stretched out between them. A faint smile crossed his features, pressing back the exhaustion that he knew were etched on the lines of his face when she was the one that he wanted to sleep, not him. According to the others that he’d talked to, he’d slept plenty already, but that didn’t change the fact that he could feel it nipping at the edges of his vision. “Your turn to get the damn peaches,” he growled out playfully before he dropped his face beside her head and mused with her hair slightly. “I think I bled enough for one day.”

[untamedtate]

There weren’t many people that understood Tatum. In fact, she could count them all on her hand. Twenty-two years on this god forsaken earth and she had about five people who understood her. The only one who was currently alive had already lost copious amounts of blood in the short amount of time they had been together. Her track record wasn’t that great when it came to intimate relationships. That was the proper thing to call it, wasn’t it? It was the only way to describe how he was holding her right now, the only way to describe the laughter and whispered words that were shared between them. Then again, it’s rather difficult to survive numerous near-death experiences and remain superficial with one another. The most intimately you can experience someone is when they have hit their lowest, when their despairing form has curled up and grown as cold as the rocks that make up what is universally known as “rock bottom”. That was exactly how Tate had found Hunter, but it was also how he had found her. She was dead in her own way -- had you killed her sister again at that point in time, right in front of her, she would have watched then walked away. The coldness of “rock bottom” had completely enveloped her at that time.

Until her eyes had fallen on the injured form of the man who was currently bedridden because he had been injured...yet again. Each had witnessed the other at their lowest point, but neither seemed to be able to turn away. Tate knew that she never wanted to. She hoped that he knew it too; the proof was in her limbs which were heavy with exhaustion and the multiple blisters on her travel-worn feet. She knew he didn’t want to turn away either because he was still here, fighting for another day when Death itself seemed to be begging him to let that day turn into an eternal night. He could have left any time that he wanted to but instead he chose to stay here. In the same plane of existence as her. That was the only reassurance she would ever need. Tatum absentmindedly rubbed her eyes, pressing her face into the crook of his neck while letting out a tired groan. But as much as she wanted to sleep, she was much too elated to have him back to let it happen. The ghosts that haunted her nightmares would find their way to her and she would probably wake him from his sleep. He needed it. She could go a bit longer without. 

“Oh, I’m sure that my skills are advanced enough that I could find an artery that has some drops of your bloo--” Her thoughts were paused as she felt his cheek against the palm of her hand, the warmth of it soothing her anxieties. That was when she realized what he had said. I trust you too. Oh, for Christ’s sake, her exhaustion was making her thoughts as sluggish as a drunkard. “I should hope so,” she murmured a bit sheepishly, her eyes glancing away to focus once more on her hand which was now enveloped in his. This fatigue was taking its toll on her, sapping her of concentration and betraying her with sleep-heavy lids. Still, she refused to sleep, partially because of the phantoms that promised to plague her dreams and partially because she needed to ensure that he would be as rested as she was. He would need to be if he planned on rehabilitating himself from the wound any time soon. One does not get shot and walk it off -- although Tatum might be the exception. But that was another story. Her train of thought seemed to be getting less and less fluid, more and more stuttered quite like the small yawns that seemed to slip out from her in the quiet moments between them. 

She had been so distracted by thoughts of sleep, of food, and of warmth that she hadn’t quiet noticed her thumb had been stroking his hand. A smile lifted the corner of her lips at his words and she adjusted her head enough so that she could look at him shrewdly. “You found me out, Hunter. I came all this way to stuff you full of biscuits so that when the infected come I may trip you -- and you, being so weighed down by all the biscuits in your digestive system, will fall prey to their hungry claws. Completely logical conclusion.” But the shrewd look became more observant as she noticed that he seemed to be as tired as she was -- if not more so. It was taking a lot of energy from him, healing from the wound. It was clear in the way he held himself, clear in the way his lashes brushed his cheek longer and longer each time he closed his eyes. A content sigh escaped her as well as a quiet laugh when he pressed his face into her hair. “I like peaches so much more when you bleed for them, though.” She murmured into the crook of his neck, her voice growing soft. “They’re much more satisfying that way. But you know what else is satisfying? Being the last one to fall asleep.” 

Before he could respond she adjusted them so that his head rested on her lap and she was comfortably propped against the wall. Her fingers combed through his hair slowly, the faint smile never leaving her features as she played with his hair. Little did he know that this was worth more to her than any number of hours of sleep. “I know you’re just as tired as I am...” 

[limitlessplaylist]

Visit Original Link

I’ve been seeing all, I’ve been seeing your soul Give me things that I’ve wanted to know 

[taeil--park-blog]

“O-oh…,” the South Korean’s gaze shifted back and forth between the brunette and the pumpkin soup inside the bowl he was holding, “Okay, then. B-but you sure you don’t want your lunch? I-I can keep it for later in the fridge, if that’s what you wish.”

[untamedtate]

“I already ate. Also, I am not an invalid and can feed myself. So if you would kindly remove your death grip from that spoon, darling, and be off to do whatever inessential job there is for you -- that would be fantastic.” She stared at him, waiting for him to snap to and be on his way with his tail between his legs. “Do I need to repeat myself in a clearer fashion?

[optimistv]

“Who peed in your cornflakes?”

[untamedtate]

“No one peed in my cornflakes, darling. I am simply not the type of person to sugarcoat every minute of my life -- actually I don’t sugarcoat anything. Not everyone is entitled to having their neighbor have a cheerful personality. Also: door’s that way.”

[untamedtate]

“I don’t remember saying that you could stand in the same vicinity as me. Or breathe the same air as me, for that matter. Go away before I cut off one of your extremities.”

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

Long before the day he’d stepped off the fishing boat, Hunter’s life had never been the same it’d once been. There were days, weeks even, when he thought about nothing but to end it all and move on to the next plane of existance for something better than the hand he’d been dealt. Between his father’s death and the disappearance of his mother, there was no one for him to rely on than himself. Even the outstretched hand of his older sister hadn’t been enough to pull him back into the world as he floated until there was nothing left for him than the job he’d been working for a few years, always taking them when his father’s health improved, only to return to a man weakened by the dehibilitation. It wasn’t a life for anyone, to watch to slowly take away the only part he had left in the world that Hunter felt wanted him there.

To think that there was anyone else out there, anyone at all, that’d choose to chase after him, it was beyond comprehension even as he felt her slowly relax into his hold and let them both lay there for however long they managed. It was more than he could have ever thought to ask for, let alone deserve. All the damage that he’d done, the shit he’d put others through and himself, Hunter wasn’t one to expect anything of the sort for there to be a living person out there that’d track him down. Not to mention if he wanted to believe in her words and cling to them, finding hope in the small syllables that would have been laughed about in the middle of the night like secrets told between children. He could have laughed once, to think of her chasing him to hell only to raise it and make him pay for leaving her in the first place when there were so many that’d left him behind with no care or concern for his well being.

If it hadn’t been for the quick thinking of a few here, Hunter wouldn’t have seen another day, not when he’d seen the blood starting to cool from his wound and staining both his clothes and the floor beneath him. He closed his eyes to diminish the image in his mind, struggling to focus on anything else that he could which was made possible by the warmth on his side as he felt her breathe against his chest and hold onto him as tight as he held onto her.

“I don’t like making promises I can’t keep, you know that.” He moved slightly, adjusting his leg and the rest of his torso as he turned more towards her and rested the side of his face against the top of her head. If there were a promise that he would try to keep, it would be that one. But the amount of shit in the world, the close calls, and the times when he thought his number was up were too real to ever be able to fully discount as he imagined a time when it would have been impossible to think about such a situation as the one they were in. “I can promise that I’ll try everything in my power to stay alive, how’s that? I’ll even look behind me and everything.” A low chuckle managed to rumble through his chest, unable to even deny that it’d been his fault, everything about how they’d come to this place and in the shape he was in.

“World peace? That might happen one day, when we’re all dead, but seeing as I made a promise to try an’ not let that happen anytime soon, I may have to think about something else to choose.” But the idea to go back to the way things were? That was something that he had a feeling that everyone alive would wish for if they had the chance. No more needing that million dollars, but the ability to go outside without the fear of God in their soul that it could be their last time out there courtesy of the walking dead that roamed the streets now. It was their world, everyone else was just visiting now, but as he met her eyes with a gleam in his eyes that only grew wider as the light peppering of color on her cheeks, Hunter knew that there would be at least one reason why he wouldn’t want to the world to go back exactly the way it could be. “We’re here because someone else wanted those peaches more than I did, that’s why we’re here. And they were for me, thank you very much. Your ass was going to never see those things,” he teased gently, meaning none of what he said, only what he felt.

[untamedtate]

It was remarkable, how familiar this position felt to her. How familiar he felt to her. Only two ( now three ) people in her life had made her feel so at home. They were both people that she had known since childhood, grown up around and had seen day after day. These were people whom she had grown with. She had known them better than the back of her hand. But this, this was a whole entire different kind of familiar. It was the kind that had always been there and would always be there. It wasn’t the type of thing that people could brush off as merely ‘clicking’, it was the type of thing that kept you grounded and brought every single aspect of you, both good and bad, into tandem. For the first time in a long time she felt whole. It was as if all the pieces that had been broken off and left behind were now all being pieced together while he held her in his arms. There had always been that option, of course, she could have done it herself if she had wanted to. But she had liked the way her fingers had dripped with blood and the way that people cowered before her.

Although...Tate had to admit. She preferred this much more.

When he chuckled, she couldn’t help but laugh quietly as well. In all honesty, she couldn’t blame him for the situation they were in. No matter how hard a person tried, there was always someone out there who was one step ahead. There was always someone out there at the right place, at the right time. It just was a matter of being that person, it was a race to see who was that person first. Tatum had that drive instilled in her long ago, she had it beat into her again and again when her mouth had been filled with blood or her body had been beat until it was black and blue all over. It was either be the winner of the race or die. Unfortunately for her, that competitive streak was an unwavering characteristic which never died down -- it had never been something she was able to grow out of. That competitive streak was the reason she was standing here now with the mountain of skeletons in her closet. It didn’t allow room for mercy or remorse -- not for anyone she hadn’t grown up. At least, not until her bright brown hues met his. 

A scoff of disbelief escaped her at his promise. He may not be able to hold the universe to that promise, but she was none the less reassured that he had no future plans to leave her. She knew he would keep his word and try hard to fight for another day. That was all that she needed to soften the blow of the anxiety that had been in the pit of her stomach since she lost him. “I suppose I can’t make you swear a blood oath considering how much blood you’ve lost already -- “ the images of the pool of blood she had found, the trail she had followed flashed into the forefront of her mind, “ -- but I trust you enough to take you on your word.” The dark haired girl stiffened in his arms briefly, the t word startling her.The word had felt so heavy on her tongue, so foreign in her mouth that she was momentarily confused when she heard it out loud. “I trust you,” she repeated out loud, partially to herself. It was one thing to know it, another to admit it. But as she felt herself relax into him once more, the slow rise and fall of his chest soothing her, she was reassured that she meant what she said. It was not a lie that had been whispered into the ear of an inferior, not like before. 

Tatum remembered each and every one of those people whom she had said the t word to and not meant it. It was to people whom she had needed to guard her, she had needed them to feel as if she had respected them as if she needed them. The first band of scavengers she had constructed, she had all made them feel that way. She didn’t need them so much as needed to use them. But they had all proven weak and insufficient, stupid enough to give up once a larger group of scavengers had waved their weapons and bared their teeth. So she had left them without a second glance, didn’t feel a thing when she heard the sound of gunfire go off methodically and consistently: a clear sign of a mass execution. They all had it coming for them. When she had said that she trusted them, she had never meant it. When she said she trusted him...it was the first time in a long time that she meant it. Tatum felt her cheeks flush even more the longer that she thought about it. How vulnerable she actually was right now. Hopefully she was the only one between the two of them that knew what it actually meant. 

“How about you wish for the infection to stop so we don’t live in fear every single minute of our lives. So that way you and I can still be here, but we won’t have to get out of bed to kill spore-crazed beings. It’s a win/win. No more running for our lives and trying to keep ahead of a hoard. We can just sleep, adjust positions, then sleep some more. Maybe even make some nice fresh biscuits after we wake up since we would have the time.” At his teasing she gave him a warm, dimpled smile, biting on her bottom lip to keep from giggling. She knew exactly who those peaches were for and it certainly wasn’t for him. Tease her as he might, he knew his words only served to make her smile more. “Well, your arse isn’t going to either, now is it? Tsk, tsk, poor thing.” She retorted teasingly, her smile only growing wider as she blinked up at him.

[hunterjaegxr-blog]

He could see it in the way that she carried herself, defying gravity in her own sense of stubbornness as she refused to succumb to exhaustion, but he knew that she must have felt it. Hours ago, less than a day, and they’d been on the run without so much as a few hours of sleep. Always saying it’ll be the next house or the next town, the next rain or the next time they made it to an empty roof to call it a night with nothing but the stars to keep them awake but they missed that moment. He’d been the one to get shot, dragged away to a place that he didn’t know, and found her in his arms again as if she’d never left them. There were thoughts, worries even, in the back of his mind that told him to not trust their position or the people that’d brought him in but he knew they could have left him out there to die rather than save him. It was enough for one night.

There was also the fact that they both needed to rest, him with his leg and her ability to deny the truth even as he watched her eyelids start to droop. Every move that she made was done with a heavy soreness that wouldn’t soon leave either one of them until they stopped running. One night wouldn’t kill them and if it did, well, he’d lasted longer than he thought possible because of the woman in his arms, the one that was slowly losing the battle with her body. A thin smile crossed his features, brushing the hair that’d fallen on her face out of the way so that he could watch her like he did so many nights before. How many times had they ended up like this? It was never safe, never quiet, but it was the best they could ever hope for when they were constantly running for their lives.

“I’m not dead yet,” he replied, softer than before, hoping that she’d fall asleep quicker that way and get as much sleep as possible. The more, the better, and the sooner they’d both be back on their feet. With his bow just out of reach, the knives in his clothes would have to make due as most of the rest of his supplies had been stolen from him in his act of simple stupidity. At least she hadn’t berated him about that, only about the near death, which was a given - knowing that he wouldn’t have forgiven himself either if he’d gone and died on her like that. “Who else can say that they’ve got someone choosing hell for you. No one.” And that’s who he’d been before her, no one. And that’s how he would have died if it hadn’t been for the people here.

He let out a heavy sigh, a weak smile, and he stared out above the both of them for a moment before his grip on her tightened and pulled her against him, tucked into the side and unable to do much good for either one of them if they were about to be attacked. “That’s my one wish, that I take first watch and you sleep, if that’s alright with you?” The question was tacked on with a slight smirk taking over as he let his gaze fall back on her, the fingers trailing against his cheek reminding the both of them that he’d survived this long to live another day. “Maybe I’ll even come up with a story to tell you while you’re asleep, one that sounds better than I got my ass surprised and shot over a can of peaches.” He grinned then. “Fuckin’ peaches.”

[untamedtate]

There had been many times that Tatum had driven her body past the point of exhaustion. Her father had expended her body again and again when he had made her use his weapons for training -- to test them and make sure he wasn’t being cheated. Eventually she had trained herself into extending her stamina, but even with all that training nothing compared to the emotional toll that she took once she thought he had died. The only thing that had emotionally drained her was the day that her sister died. She remembered stepping through the door and how the silence of the house had greeted her. There was no music streaming through the door, neither was there the smell of burning food that usually accompanied her sister’s attempts to make dinner. She had tried to distance herself from her emotions, had wanted to turn the switch off and let herself shut down. But she couldn’t make herself do it. So instead the grief had spurred her into action. She had sprinted up the stairs and cried and cried and cried until her body felt as empty as the corpse that was held in her arms. 

Her limbs had been weighed down with the same heaviness that she felt now. Perhaps she hadn’t been so stricken this time because she didn’t really believe it until she held him in her arms. Perhaps that was why she was determined to search for him until she dropped from exhaustion. She wouldn’t believe it until she saw it for herself. Until her fingers brushed against the cold skin that was the tell-tale sign that he had passed on. But here she was, her skin brushing his and instead of finding it cold and unforgiving she found herself warming at the smallest of touches. Right this very moment she was experiencing it; she was becoming more and more certain that he wasn’t a phantom or an exhaustion induced hallucination. Her eyes fluttered shut under his touch, exhaling a small sigh of relief as she leaned into it. No, she wouldn’t have been able to handle the end of the world without him. The wholeness that he had brought into her life -- the thought of it being taken away just so brutally would have ruined her for good. Well, ruined her more than she already had been. 

“I would feel much more reassured if you promised me that you don’t have plans for dying any time soon.” The words came out pleading, a lot more desperate than she would have liked. She hadn’t heard herself sound like that for...how many years now? Probably since she was a child, begging her father to make her mother stop sticking the needle in her arm. “As much as I am sure that I would go to hell for you, I’d prefer if it weren’t sometime in the near future.” She allowed herself to be tucked under his arm, her body fitting against his. It was snug and warm and comfortable. But it was also stupid and impractical and if they were to be attacked at this very moment they would probably be dead within seconds. Although, for once, Tate wasn’t worried. If they were going to die she would prefer to die in this exact position. 

“You sure you don’t want to wish for anything else, darling? Not world peace or for everything to go back to the way it once was?” Looking up at him, she gave a small smile, her eyes tracing over his features. Her thumb ran over his bottom lip as he spoke, the smile growing wider as she listened to him. “Peaches?” Shaking her head in disbelief, she held his chin between her fingers and tugged his head lower, looking at him so that he might see the amused smile that played at her features. “Please don’t tell me that we are here because you were trying to get a can of bloody peaches.” There was a pause as she ducked her head, a light flush rising on her features. “Although I find it very chivalrous of you to have gotten shot because you were trying to retrieve my favorite fruit. You are truly my knight in shining armor.”