#Hicks gets caught between trying to help the both of them. And helping neither.

[krikeymate]

I was thinking about Christina being absent a lot of the time, especially after Sam left, and it raised the question:

How does Tara take care of herself in the years between Sam leaving and coming back? Christina wasn't really present, so who bought groceries and stuff like that? Did Tara have to get a job? She wouldn't have been able to for several years because of her age, so did Christina just give her money every so often?

I imagine that her friends and their families helped out a lot, but at the same time I can't really see Tara accepting too much help (or even telling them to begin with), especially from adults/parents.

What are your thoughts?

I've mentioned here:

By the time their father left, Christina did nothing except drop off an envelope of money on the counter monthly and pay the bills. Sam learns to forge her mother’s signature to sign off on Tara’s medical needs

In my head, Sam leaving doesn't change that; Christina keeps to the routine. She pays the bills and leaves money on the counter.

We do know Tara does have a job at one point, at least the summer before senior year, because that's where she met Liv (and Vince). I imagine she did that to get experience and to start having some freedom of her own - she would have been 19 at that point. And no doubt to begin saving up in case her mother decides to kick her out. She's so unpredictable, Tara never knows what mood she'll be in: the one where she screams at her and calls her a parasite, or the one where she weeps in her arms telling her to never leave her.

I think Tara would have spent a lot of time around friends' houses - she doesn't like to be alone. Martha and Judy are always encouraging their kids to bring Tara around, always trying to look out for her - especially straight after Sam leaves, knowing that her mother wouldn't be around. They could offer her dinner, a sleepover, some snacks - but she won't accept more. No money, no clothes, no help at home. Tara shuts down the slightest hint of that. Judy helps Tara learn to drive, she allows that. She could never afford a car or the insurance, but she appreciates that she took the time to teach her anyway. Hicks feels especially protective of Tara, she could never help Sam. She feels bad that she couldn't intervene early enough to help prevent that descent, too busy trying to help Dewey with his.

[laz-laz-ace-pilot]

29 from the prompt list. I wanna really see what you'll do with it :D

So I decided to interpret this as a conversation between Fives and Rex. The General mentioned is Aria, a brilliant oc belonging to @clone-bar-79s and with her own blog here! - @jediknightaria

79’s 

“I’m telling you- I’m not-” Hick. “I’m not drunk!”

Echo chuckled into his own drink and Rex could hardly blame him; Fives had said it with such sincerity, his eyes wide and endearing - but the blush in his cheeks, the slur in his voice, the hiccups and the fact he was clearly drunk from a mile off had given him away. 

"You're a really bad liar," Rex said, trying to keep a straight face. Fives pouted in response and neither he nor Echo could take it anymore; both burst out laughing, Echo snorting his Rhuvian Fizz out of his nose. That set Fives off then too, and before long the three of them were holding onto each other for support, barely able to breathe for laughing. Commander Wolffe gave them a dirty look from the bar but Rex couldn’t care less.

It wasn’t every day your brothers qualified as ARC troopers!

“One last drink, then I expect both of you back in your bunks. It’ll be a busy day tomorrow.”

“Only if you join us!” Fives begged, pulling Rex closer. Rex looked to Echo for help, but his other little brother had betrayed him, helping Fives trap him at the bar. He sighed dramatically.

“Fine - but just one.”

It was not just one. Far from it.

But Rex didn’t seem to mind.

No, memories like this he didn’t mind at all.

…

Rex had been expecting some sort of call from Fox, but that didn't mean he had to like it. Despite Rex warning him that his battalion had just left hell and might be a little more rowdy than usual, the Commander had sounded as waspish and displeased as ever. It wasn't his fault - how could a brother with a cushy position like this ever understand something like Umbara - but it didn't make Fox's complaints of 'get your kriffing brothers in check before I have them arrested and held in detention' any less grating.

Approaching 79's, there was already a heightened tension around the bar, and nat-borns and brothers alike were steering clear. Inside wasn't much better; the same loud raucous music was playing as always, but no one was dancing. No one was doing anything except sitting in deathly silence, staring out at nothing or at the single patron sitting at the bar.

The bartender caught his eye with a panicked look; striding over, he very quickly worked out why. Fives was slumped over the bar, nursing a cup of strong Shesharilian Vodka and glaring murderously at the bottles ahead of him. The shattered transparisteel on the floor and the blood coating Fives' knuckles meant that Fox had been telling the truth and Rex had found his culprit. 

"Fives."

"Hey Rex," Fives mumbled into his drink. His voice slurred slightly at the end; Rex dreaded to think how much his vod had had to drink. Despite his intoxication, Fives was still on high alert, his body tense and itching for another fight.

"Come on, I think you've had enough to drink-" Rex said as diplomatically as he could, but Fives stubbornly stayed put.

"I'm not drunk," Fives argued, but his heart wasn't in it.

"Yes you are. Come on, let's get you-" 

He tried to put a hand on Fives' shoulder, but the other trooper flinched, shoving Rex back violently.

"Kriff off Rex!" Fives growled, his eyes glinting dangerously. Rex could feel the mood changing rapidly around them, and Fives was in a lot worse state than he'd thought - if he didn't get him out of there soon-

"Y'know, I've been thinking,” Fives said conversationally, although there was a steely edge to it that made the hairs on Rex’s neck stand on end. “I'm glad Echo's dead."

Rex froze.

He didn't just say that.

He wouldn't.

He didn't need to look around to know that everyone was staring at them. He didn't need to see their faces to know how horrified, how angry they were. You never wished a brother dead. 

Ever.

Reeling in his own feeling of disgust, he forced Fives to his feet.

"You don't know what you're saying, now move it trooper before-"

"No, I mean it! I'm glad he's dead! And Hevy and Cutup and Droidbait! I'm glad they never had to see that hell, glad they never had to die for something so- so useless!!!”

The whole room had frozen. Barely a word had been spoken since they’d taken off from Umbara; most had simply wanted to forget, or pretend it never happened. The cruiser had been too empty, and those who remained weren’t the same. Rex had tried to brush it off as just another rough campaign, had been the professional his men had needed him to be. And it had almost helped - pretending was an incredible weapon in the battle with his nightmares. He could pretend Hardcase was still with them, that he hadn’t killed his own brothers, that he hadn’t obeyed the orders of a general who had used him to control his men, to send them to their deaths. No, pretending was the holding action he needed, the shelter from the storm in his mind.

But Fives had ripped it away like a bandage from a wound, and now he was bleeding, bleeding…

“How long before we’re asked to do the same again? Walk into blasterfire for the sake of obedience? Serve masters we have no power to contradict? And for what? And for what?!!!”

“Fives-”

“I know you think about it! You’re not blind to what's happening! I saw it on Umbara, I see it when you look at her-”

“Don’t.”

“What’s going to happen to us Rex? Will they just throw us at the guns until there’s none of us left?! Or throw us away when we’re no longer useful? We deserve better, we deserve to live!!! And you!!! You’re so much more- that life with the General- Aria- after the war… why shouldn’t you have it?!”

“Fives stop it! Please!!!”

That was a low blow and Fives knew it. The tears in Fives’ eyes did nothing to still the turmoil in Rex’s heart because… he was right. As much as he tried to pretend otherwise, each night since they’d escaped Umbara’s atmosphere his thoughts had been assaulted with the same mutinous thoughts. Who were the Jedi to decide whether his brothers lived or died?! Sure, Krell had Fallen, but every other general had the same right to abuse that power. How many brothers had died before now to weak or apathetic leaders?! And what would happen after the war?! 

The worst part was that he’d had this conversation before. The look on Aria’s face that night… they’d both said things that scared him even now, that made his heart race with fear and something he dare not name. But the way she’d described her hatred of the battlefield, her fear for her Padawan, her forbidden dream of a normal life… and he’d understood. He’d wanted it too. And her fierceness, her passion- if she’d asked him to desert then-

But he hadn’t - he’d been the Republic’s loyal soldier - and he’d marched his men to Umbara and to their deaths.

Fives was staring at him; intelligent eyes only fuelled by the inebriation. He’d long ago learned to never underestimate Fives’ ability to analyse the situation around him, but now it seemed his brother was looking through his skin, straight into his soul.

“I might be a bad liar, but at least I’m not lying to myself,” Fives muttered darkly before pushing himself away from the bar, stalking past Rex and the other stunned patrons in the bar to disappear into the dark night outside. 

Fives had been right on Umbara - about Krell, about everything.

He hated that Fives was right here too.

Thank you if you gave this a read! For those interested, Fox had been dealing with his own problems prior to the 501st arrival and had every reason to be grumpy - both Fox and Rex deserve a real break and some therapy!

[calpops]

seven months | c.h.

Seven months of pregnancy leave you and Calum with a world of love, happiness, trials and tribulations and brings an anticipated yet completely unexpected moment.

1.8k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted on any platform in any format (translations included).

<< >>

The positive test result is confirmed and you and Calum feel like you’re floating. The first week of knowing that your family is growing comes with bliss. You can’t help but smile every time you see each other, Calum can’t keep his hands from settling around your waist or delicately resting on your stomach. Duke develops a newfound interest and need to be with you; his senses turning his protectiveness into overdrive. The first week blows by, little red slashes on the calendar keeping count of all the days it will take to greet the newest member of the family.

“I can’t wait to meet her,” Calum says, standing in the kitchen where he cooks up dinner. You haven’t quite developed any crazy cravings yet but it doesn’t stop him from making anything you desire.

“Her?” You ask with an arched eyebrow and smirk.

“Just a guess,” he says with a shrug and smile then adds on, “the right one.”

“I don’t know, love, I think my money’s on a boy,” you reply and let your hand settle on your stomach. As much as Calum’s made it a habit you’ve done so tenfold. You’re not showing yet but the habit comes from comfort.

“You wanna make a bet?” Calum asks, stalling his cooking to eye you. You shift in the stool you’re sat on and question him with a look. “A girl and I win. A boy and you win.”

“What do you propose we win?” you question.

Calum lets out a breath, turns off the stove and moves the pan from the hot burner before rounding the counter to be by your side. He slides his hands around you, holds you, kisses your forehead and smiles. “Bragging rights. And first choice at names,” he proposes and piques your interest. He knows you have a list of names that have swirled through your mind since you got serious together. You have a feeling even if he wins he’ll still consider what you want and you know you’d do the same for him. It’s all in good fun.

“Alright, deal, but we won’t know for a while,” you remind him and seal the deal with a kiss.

More days pass and the complications of pregnancy start to kick in. Cravings and sickness, fatigue and changes plague you. Calum is there for you through it all. He offers comfort and support, takes as much time as he can to be with you, cater to your every whim and need. Though there are challenges both of you stay optimistic and anxious, nearly unable to wait for the day you get to hold the product of love in your arms. You often find yourself speaking of it all, making plans. You’ve yet to tell anyone but Calum’s parents and sister about the pregnancy, opting to keep it to yourselves until enough time has passed that risk margins slim and complications start to fade.

“We should probably tell the guys, at least,” Calum mumbles one night. You lay on your side and gaze at him under thin streams of moonlight coming in through the slats of the blinds.

“Yeah,” you agree, knowing they’re family and should know soon.

“I can tell them at the studio tomorrow,” Calum offers and you watch his eyes shoot up to the ceiling. “Unless you want to be there when they find out.”

You nod. “Oh I think I have to be. Luke did walk me down the aisle,” you remind with a slight giggle and light up when Calum laughs too.

“Stop by for lunch and we’ll tell them together?” Calum offers and you nod, making the plan and looking forward to the reactions to come.

The next day you show up to the studio where Calum greets you with lunch, a smile and a kiss to the cheek. He holds your hand up to where the rest of the band convenes with a shroud of take out boxes around them. You go in without a game plan in place to break the news but feel that might be best, you want telling them to come naturally. You’ve started to show just a touch but it’s easy enough to o disguise with Calum’s hoodie. None of the boys are the wiser or suspect anything when you walk in with Calum.

You get halfway through your meal, making small talk and trading banter, filling the guys in on marital life and the happiness you share when Ashton eyes your odd combo of food and makes a quip.

“I’d say it���s the pregnancy cravings but I’ve always liked this, actually,” you reply without thought and only realize what you’ve said when Ashton laughs but Michael and Calum stay silent and then Ashton falls into the quiet as well.

“Wait, what?” Ashton asks and stands as if the news is so striking he’s not sure what to do with himself. Neither you or Calum respond, the lack of game plan not readying you for the varying responses of shock. “Shut up, are you really pregnant or just trying to give me chest pain?”

Calum laughs and you blush around a giggle. Michael and Luke lean forward, rapt with interest at what answer might come from you two. You start by nodding but it’s not enough for Ashton to believe you and sit back down. He waits for words, waits for Calum to also confirm and when the chorus of confirmation and explanation falls from the two of you he breaks into a grin and finally joins Luke and Michael back on the sofa.

“I really didn’t think Calum would be the first,” Michael muses, hands folded together under his chin, you can see the happiness in his eyes and the unrelenting tilt of his lips.

“The first to have a kid?” Calum asks and throws his arm around your shoulder to pull you closer.

“The first to find love, get married, have a kid, all of it,” Michael clarifies with fondness in his tone. “I’m happy for you,” he adds on and flickers his eyes from Calum to you, making it known he means both of you.

Luke joins in on the sentiment and congratulations, pulls you into a hug and promises he’ll be there whenever you need him, also mentions that he’s already vying for the position of favorite uncle.

“Does anyone else know?” Luke asks after.

“Just my parents and Mali,” Calum answers. “We want to keep it as private as possible for as long as possible.”

You and Calum are no strangers to privacy in your relationship. You’d kept your entire relationship a secret from the public for over a year before an accidental slip of paparazzi outed you, hate swirled and Calum took a stand to tell the world he loves you. Since then you’ve gone back under the radar, preferring to keep to yourselves. Keeping your pregnancy quiet feels only natural. You know there will come a time when it can’t be hidden, but in the meantime you’re going to enjoy every last minute of privacy and solace that you can.

You slowly break the news to other close friends as the weeks go on. It’s over dinner that Calum broaches the subject of making a public announcement. You know it’s time, you’re showing and the probability of being spotted and found out increases day by day. You nod in agreement at his words, how carefully he’s thought it through and what steps he wants to take to do it. A simple instagram post, a simple caption and the comments turned off. You agree and watch over Calum’s shoulder while he scrolls through near endless photos of you, you and him, all of the baby items you’ve obtained over the five months of the pregnancy. He finally decides on a simple photo of his hands on your bump and captions it with your due date and a heart. He posts it so the world knows but you keep your world inside the walls of your home and the love between the two of you.

You spend the next couple of months in an excited bliss. All of your appointments and classes go well. You both decide to be surprised by the gender, still waiting on your bet, still biding time on choosing a name. Calum always says you’ll know when you finally meet her—sticking to his guns about your baby being a daughter. You’ve bought almost everything for the nursery but have yet to get them all put together. The boxes leave a reminder of excitement and fondness in you every time you pass by the door. Habits begin to form as you get ready for the baby to come. Calum sings to your bump, talks to you and the baby, cradles you and speaks of the future so often and vividly you can nearly see it. Everything builds hope in your heart.

***

Calum’s at the studio late one night, texting you, promising you he’s trying to get home as soon as he can when the first sign occurs. Immediately and instinctively you know. You fumble with your phone and dial Calum’s number. It rings only once before he answers and you cut off his greeting.

“It’s happening,” you breathe out.

“Sweetheart, you’re barely seven months, are you sure it’s not Braxton-Hicks?” Calum asks, automatically knowing what you mean, concern is in his tone but the drone of background noise over the phone cuts through.

You nod, tears in your eyes, knowing he can’t see you and then manage to get out a cracked ‘yes’. It suddenly feels like the world you’ve been living in is moving too fast. It’s happening too soon and instead of an anticipated and joyous occasion you’re bombarded by a time unexpected and only worries following. You know complications exist with premature birth and they rattle through your brain and instill fear into you when all you want to be feeling is happiness.

Calum doesn’t hesitate when he knows you’re certain. “Mali’s closer, she’ll bring you to the hospital and I’ll meet you, okay? Ash will call her, just breathe, it’s gonna be okay.”

You want to believe him, have always been able to put your faith into his words. But this is out of his control.

“I’m scared,” you confide, voice small and shaking with the two words.

“Stay on the phone with me. I’m right here,” he soothes. “It’s gonna be okay,” he repeats and now you wonder if it’s for you or to convince himself, knowing that realizations of the situation have caught up with him. Noting the tiniest hint of fear in his voice.

You hold onto his words, the sentiment, the sound of his voice as he tries calming you. He stays on the phone with you as Mali shows up, through the car rides that separate you and only hangs up when he sees you being wheeled into the check in desk. He strides for you, takes your hand in his and repeats words that have become a mantra.

“It’s gonna be okay.”

You try to believe him as your world spins on and you’re powerless to the future. You don’t let go of his hand or his hope.

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[hargrove-mayfields]

I haven’t been able to write a whole lot recently so to make up for the little drought here’s a few kegboys hcs!

-Tommy has a big thing for 70s country music, it’s like, all he’ll listen to. Steve’s kind of overexposed to country having grown up in IN so he’s pretty neutral on it even though he prefers pop, but Billy, resident metal head and city boy through and through, tries to poke fun at him for it because like, country music is for uncool hicks, right? But, and this is very much to his dismay, Billy cannot get enough of Dolly. Like he really couldn’t care less about Toms other picks but he is beyond hooked on Dolly to the point that he’s the one buying all her new records when they come out.

-Tommy is absolutely the house husband because the other two are honest to god domestically useless. Billy tries really, really hard to help because Steve goes to work and he feels like he’s lazy for not being able to do much while he’s recovering, so Tommy sticks him with the little jobs because he knows he’s never going to get him to agree to actually resting. It’ll just be little tasks, things like cleaning the lint trap when Tom switches the laundry, but it’s enough to make him feel less useless.

-But! As good as he is at keeping up with the bills and doing chores, Tommy CANNOT cook. Steve will never ever forget the time he came over to his house and caught popcorn on fire in his microwave or when Billy had to swoop in and unplug the toaster like seconds before Tee electrocuted himself trying to use a fork to fish out a piece poptart that broke off in there, so he is very much not allowed anywhere near a stove. Billy is the best cook and even then he’s a little iffy because Neil never let him do it, so to compensate for how collectively awful they are in the kitchen they have like a thousand scribbled in cookbooks in every drawer and pantry.

-They all three have very different sleeping habits. Billy’s the early bird, always gets up at the same time as the sun well-rested no matter what time they went to bed. Steve is a deep sleeper through and through, he’ll pass out at like, 11:00 every night and won’t move again until morning. If nobody were to wake him up he could probably sleep all through an entire day. Tommy’s something of a rough sleeper though, can’t usually get to sleep until at least two in the morning, usually later than that even, and once he gets to sleep it’s very light and he tends to wake up every hour, on the hour. One time when Steve’s at the pharmacy picking up Billy's meds he grabs a little thing of melatonin for Tom because like, it says it boosts sleep and anything’s worth a shot if it means Tommy won’t be so exhausted and sick and frustrated all the time, and it does help! He sort of ends up on about the same sleep schedule as Billy once his rhythm gets a little more regulated.

-When they first started dating, Billy thought Steve was bad when it came to clothes stealing, he lost a few jackets and old t-shirts that way, but when they all three move in together he discovers that Tommy is the true culprit. Neither he nor Steve can keep track of literally any single piece of clothing. Everything, from their hoodies to their jeans to their pjs to their socks, all belong in some part to Tom until eventually they just have one community wardrobe they pick and choose from instead of like, individual clothes.

-They all three overuse the heck out of pet names like baby and babe, which results in Steve calling Tommy babe one and Billy babe two because he was tired of saying like “hey babe” and getting two simultaneous answers.

-Tommy does Billy’s hair for him when he still can’t do too much with his hands, and after that too when it’s convenient because it becomes routine, combing out his curls and putting mousse in it when he wants it done nice, because he wants to be a hairdresser anyways! He’d practiced plenty on Steve ever since they were in middle school, given him tons of hair cuts and even his highlights! It’s for that reason that when Tommy starts doing Billy’s hair, Steve gets the teensiest bit jealous because that used to be him. So everytime they go anywhere and they aren’t crunched for time he has to do both Billy and Steve’s hair and he starts not having time to straighten his own! But! That’s okay because his boys are very fond of his natural curls!

-Steve runs very, very cold always. He’s a type one diabetic so he’s pretty much always anemic and he freezes like 24/7. Even in the summer when Billy and Tommy are like melting into the furniture, he can get away with long sleeves and be just fine. When they’re in bed they keep Steve in the middle because they both run super warm like a heat register and it’d get too hot without having Steve as their ice pack between them.

-More about Steve’s diabetes bc it’s like one of my fav hcs and I wish I could write about it more! It’s really hard to find things for him to eat because he’s gotta worry about his sugar, but also because he has so many food allergies and sensitivities on top of that. Before he had anyone around he just kind of didn’t care about watching himself like, if he wanted to eat something, he would just do it, but he ultimately faced the consequences of that a few times too many, aka being hospitalized twice with DKA and three times with anaphylactic shock. he gets banned from grocery shopping on his own, because he will absolutely buy so much stuff he isn’t supposed to have and ‘lose’ the receipt and just hide the stuff because his boys will not let him eat whatever he wants anymore. Billy is also not allowed to go shopping because he never remembers what brands they use or reads any labels, he just grabs the first of everything he sees and calls it a day. Tommy officially gave up on them and started doing it himself after confiscating a half empty bag of gummy bears off of Steve and having to use the wrong toothpaste for months because Billy refused to pay attention.

-Tommy attracts strays! Cats, dogs, an actual escaped budgie from the neighbors house once, it doesn’t matter, somehow they always find him. If he’s out on the porch there’s like, a ninety percent chance there’s a critter that doesn’t belong to them in his lap. He lets Billy name them all even though they can’t keep them. Tommy personally can’t pick a favorite out of the 20 some odd cats that come and go because they’re all his babies, but Billy and Steve have theirs. B’s favorite is a black and white little fella named Mr. Shrimp and Steve’s is a sweet tabby girl named Meowzers! The rule doesn't only apply to domesticated animals either, raccoons and wild bunnies also tend to lurk around their porch. Billy picks up a raccoon once (he named her Poubelle, but calls her Bella) and Steve yelled at him for hours about how dangerous and irresponsible and gross it was. Him and Tommy get boyfriend grounded for like, weeks after that.

-Steve is like everyone’s Midwestern grandma! He keeps pockets full of butterscotch candies and tissues, he’s got a collection of blow molds and Tiffany lamps, he wears sweatshirts and jackets with weird quotes on them and like, he believes the cure to every ailment is tomato soup, vicks, a wash rag, and a kiss or any combination thereof. It drives Billy completely up the wall, because he’ll cough like once and Steve is like do you need soup? do you need a doctor? please let me help you. But Tommy likes it, being fussed over, cause he grew up with younger siblings and two working parents, so he was always the one doing the fussing.

[rrickgrrimes8]

Normality is Death

Chapter Four ~ Atlanta and the Vatos

masterlist

It has been a few days since Addie last spoke to me but it's for the best really. We're not supposed to be together and it took me a while to figure that out but now I know and I won't ever forget it. I know she's been avoiding me since we almost kissed and I guess I've made my peace with that but today that ends. Today, we have to go into Atlanta for a supply run. It was a normal thing for me and Addie to go on a run together but today I felt different. I don't know whether or not it's because of my nerves or maybe something completely different all I know is that I'm scared more then I would be usually. I guess I could put it down to the reckless asshole that put the biters on high alert. What happened was that Mitchell said he saw some dude enter Atlanta on horseback and be surprised by the biters and got cornered in a tank or something. He's probably dead now though, everyone thinks it as no one makes it out of Atlanta after making that much noise and I'd be very surprised if he was alive. 

The supply run should be easy today as we gave it a couple of days before going out and just so they wouldn't be on such high alert. I haven't spoken to Addie about coming with me but she hasn't spoken to me either so I guess she's still planning on joining me.

I stepped out of my shared house, ignoring the blazing Atlanta heat and walked over to Mitchell, "Still going on a run today, right?" I asked him to which he nodded. "Yeah. Addie's waiting for you at the gate." I smiled at him and span around mentally preparing myself to face Addie.

"Oh and Jacey?" Mitchell called after me.

"Yeah."

"Stay safe. I know somethings going on between the two of you I don't want that to cloud your judgement. Be smart about it, alright?" I nodded at his words internally sighing and walked away.

I approached the gates seeing Addie stood there nervously and holding a rifle and my machete and handgun. "You ready?" I asked her snapping her out of her daze she nodded curtly before motioning the people on watch to open the gate. 

"Well this is going to be fun," I muttered to myself before taking my weapons and leaving camp.

Upon arriving in Atlanta you could tell that the biters had maybe doubled in numbers since our last run. I sensed Addie's fear to which I just looked at her and smiled, "We'll be okay, we always are." She smiled back and relaxed slightly before taking the lead and heading into the city centre careful not to cross closely to any biters. I pulled my hood up as we passed through the numerous remains of what once were people and kept close to Addie before turning into the first alleyway. 

"So what's the plan today?" She asked looking over her shoulder for biters and then back to me.

"Just the usual. Hit the mini markets and then see what we get," I shrugged at her before continuing, "Oh and Mitchell mentioned the other day to get some more clothes if we could." She smiled softly and nodded.

"You ready, Grimes?"

"Always, Smith."

We said to each other before running out of the alley and across the street ignoring the reactions we were getting from the many biters we crossed.

Addie and I got to the other side easily and snuck into the first shop. We shuffled quickly through each shelf grabbing what we needed and leaving everything we didn't. It was all going so well until we heard voices. Neither me nor Addie spoke we just watched through the window closely. The voices couldn't be more then a store away from us and we probably wouldn't have been able to hear them if they weren't being so damn loud. 

"You got a lot of balls for a Chinaman." One of the men remarked in a deep southern accent. I rolled my eyes at his words and looked over to Addie, who looked terrified. 

"I'm Korean." The other man, who sounded more youthful than the other man, corrected him. I looked back over to Addie and mouthed 'I'll be right back. Don't move.' She attempted to call after me as I left the shop but I ignored her and discreetly followed the voices, finding them in an alley. 

Still hidden around the corner I heard one of them say, "Whatever." I walked away from the pair hoping that they hadn't seen me yet. 

I was about to leave for good until I heard a small familiar scream pierce the air, "Jacey!" I span around to see a biter almost taking a piece out of her neck. I got my gun out quickly not thinking about the sound it'll draw and shot. It hit the corpse perfectly and Addie ran back over to me. 

"Hey! You two!" a hushed voice called to us from the right. I looked over to see one of the men from the alleyway before. He was a younger man wearing a t-shirt and a cap and holding a bag of guns with the bold lettering of 'SHERIFF' on the side. 

"What the hell are you thinking, setting that off?" I rolled my eyes at him and got ready to retort but he interrupted, "Forget it you've gotta follow me it's not safe out in the street." 

"Yeah well it's probably not safe with you neither," Addie snapped. 

"Just follow me, okay? The way you came from is blocked off now this is the only option." I looked behind me and sure as hell, he was telling the truth, about a dozen or so biters clambered across the street towards us. I heard Addie gasp in shock causing me to grab her wrist and pull her in the direction the man told us to. 

Once we get into the alley I see the mans friend on the floor being beaten by what looks to be a metal pole. The two men who were beating him pushes me to the ground and one of them hits me across the face. I hear Addie scream and I look up to see those pricks grabbing both her and that guy, attempting to throw them in the back of the truck. I spat out some blood and looked to my side grabbing a crossbow and shooting at the guy, who had Addie, in the ass. I pushed myself up and ran after them but missed them by a mere second as they drove away. 

"No Addie!" I shout after the car and got ready to run after them but was pulled back by two arms. 

"Stop struggling yer damn bitch," He growls to me before throwing me next to a younger boy. 

The redneck picks up his crossbow and aims it at the pair of us, "Tell me where they jus' took ma friend." The boy next to me looks scared but I just roll my eyes and grab my gun aiming it right back at him. 

"I don't fucking know," I hear voices call for the man to stop but I ignore them and push him out the way and ran back into the now biter filled street. 

"Hey get back here woman!" I hear him shout before one of his friends closes the gate between us. 

"No can do asshole. See ya in hell!" I walked away from the group setting myself down in the closest store. I had to fight back the tears thinking about what they could be doing to my girl right now. She could be dead already for all I know and it would be my fault. My thoughts drifted back to the man that was taken with Addie. He was nice - unlike his friend - maybe he's protecting her like he was trying to do before. I bow my head thinking about all the places I know of in Atlanta hoping to have any clue of finding them. 

I've got to save them.

~

Rick paced around the room slowly, looking back and forth between the boy, whose name he learnt to be Miguel, and Daryl. Daryl was angry it had been clear since the start of this endeavour and Rick could almost fear that. He understood that a man could do a lot of damage on anger alone. 

"Those men you were with, we need to know where they went," The officer spoke down to the boy. 

"I ain't telling you nothing," He spoke sternly and with as much confidence he could muster causing Shane to sigh and sit back on to one of the tables. 

T-dog looked over to Daryl and asked, "Jesus, man. What the hell happened back there?" 

Daryl looked up at him and sneered, "I told you, this turd and his douchebag friends came out of nowhere and jumped me." 

"You're the one who jumped me, puto, screaming about trying to find his brother like it's my damn fault." Miguel sassed rolling his eyes at Daryl's madness. 

"They took Glenn n' that other girl too. Coulda took Merle as well," He justified a hint of sadness in his voice once he spoke about his brother. 

"Merle? What kind of hick name is that? I wouldn't name my dog Merle," Miguel laughed at him causing Daryl to try and kick him which Rick intervened. 

"Damn it, Daryl. Back off." Daryl moves away sitting in the background still giving the boy a dirty look. 

The redneck looked over to Miguel once again and moved over to his back, unwrapping his brother's hand, "Want to see what happened to the last guy that pissed me off?" Daryl dropped the cold hand onto the boy's lap making him freak out. Shane picked up the hand and put it back in the bag ignoring the laughs he got from Daryl, "Next imma gonna start with the feet."

After the boy calmed down T-dog looked over to Daryl and inquired, "Hold on you said they took some girl, who was she?" 

"Yeah, and who was that girl you were shouting after?" Shane joined and looked at the redneck. 

"Don't know who they are. They were just with Glenn," He shrugged. 

"Then why the hell did you point your crossbow at her? She could've helped us." Rick scolded him. 

"I thought she might've been on their side," Daryl attempted to explain, "She was a bitch anyway, doubt she woulda helped shit." 

"She was just a kid, puto, a badass one but still just a kid," Miguel added seemingly almost fully recovered from seeing that hand and the threats Daryl made afterwards. 

"How do you know?" The brunette man asked. 

"Dunno she just looked it. Couldn't be more than 15." Both Rick and Shane's heart seemed to sink at his reply - she was just a kid. A kid that was the same age as Ricks daughter when she died. Knowingly Shane looked over to his brother, a sigh getting caught in between his lips as he looks at the face of sorrow and grief he had on. 

"She was only 15, Daryl!" Rick snapped at Daryl, "And you were prepared to kill her for nothing!" Both Daryl and T-dog looked at the man in shock and if he was honest with himself he was shocked too. Why all of a sudden did he care so much for a girl he had never met. Shane sped over to his partner and pushed him back slightly, "You gotta chill brother." Rick looked at him with a death glare and then back at Daryl.

"Chill man she had her gun on me anyways. Was kinda askin' for it." 

Shane rolled his eyes ignoring Ricks anger towards the man and moved back over to Miguel, "The men you were with took our friend. All we want to do is talk to them, see if we can work something out."

~

Addie faced the wall not daring to make a noise as the man she met from earlier sat closely as if he was ready to protect her. She felt herself begin to cry letting the bad thoughts of what these people could do to them take over. But the worst one she could think about was that she'd never get to see Jacey again. 

"Hey, it's okay. Please don't cry," The boy next to her whispered, "My friends will get us out of here. I promise." Although she weakly smiled at him they both knew it was fake - they were both terrified there was no denying it. 

"Thanks for what you did back there," He looked over to the girl confused, "For trying to help me and my friend. She'd hate for me to admit this but you really saved our asses even if it brought us to this."

He smiled at her and said, "Its no problem really. I mean I'm guessing you're only young it would've been wrong to leave you with a ton of walkers. My names Glenn by the way."

"Addie. I would shake your hand if I weren't tied up," Glenn laughed, "and yeah I guess were younger I'm 16 and my friend is 14."

"14, Jesus. She's so young and I mean so are you but she's like just started high school," Glenn muttered sadly, this world was too hard for a girl that young. 

"If you got to know her you wouldn't expect her to be that young. She's pretty badass."

"I could tell. She shot that Walker and you know didn't miss. Whenever I try it takes me a few times," Addie laughs at his embarrassed face.

"I think she's had practise though. Our leader taught her a lot but her dad was a cop before all of this and he taught her some stuff."

"Another cop, Jesus, do they grow on trees," Glenn whispers inwardly but Addie still hears it.

"What do you mean?" she leans her head back onto the wall, still looking at him.

"Oh we just have two cops in our group and you guys have another one. It's kind of stupid saying out loud I understand lots of people are cops I just... I honestly don't know nevermind," They both laugh, him doing it more out of embarrassment rather than humour.

Addie sighed sadly, "Her dad isn't in our group though. He died before I even met her."

"I'm sorry to hear that. Do you know how?"

"Gunshot." She stated simply remembering back to the conversation they had about him.

"Wait, no way! No was one of the cops in our group! He got left behind or something but reunited with his wife and son. They all thought he was dead," He excitedly yelled, still remembering the tearjerking reunion.

Addie looked shocked at the man's claim and was about to answer with a bombardment of questions but was interrupted when the door slammed open.

~

The four men enter the hideout guns raised and moving in a way best described to be as a troop of soldiers. Rick took the lead, a shotgun in hand, and a look of pure determination to get his friend back, alive. Miguel shakily walked in front of them, arms tied behind his back. 

"You sure your up for this?" Shane looks to the group. 

"Yes," T-dog replies as Rick starts to nod. 

As if it was on cue, a group of older men, some that Daryl could recognise from earlier, came pouring out of the building. The leader, Guillermo, walked ahead of the group and up to Miguel checking out any bruises he may have, "you okay, little man?" 

In response, Miguel shook his head biting his lip softly, "They're gonna cut off my feet, carnal." 

"Cops do that?" He asked him looking over at the group, eyeing Rick's sheriff hat and Shane's cap. 

"Not them. This redneck puto here. He cut off some dude's hand, man. He showed it to me." Guillermo looked at Daryl his eyes grazing over his crossbow. 

"Shut up," He spat roughly. 

Out of nowhere, another man came out of the building his gun raised to the group of men, "Hey where's that puto? The one that shot me in the ass with an arrow?" The man looked over the group men still not spotting the girl that did this to him. 

"Chill, ese, chill. Chill. This true? They want Miguelito's feet? That's pretty sick, man," Guillermo looked at the group scoffing. 

"We were hoping for a calm discussion," Rick clarified. 

"That hillbilly jumps Felipe's little cousin, beats on him, threatens to cut off his feet and some girl shoots Felipe with an arrow in the ass and you want a calm discussion? You fascinate me." 

"Heat of the moment. Mistakes were made from both sides," He said looking over at the redneck. 

"Where is that girl anyway? Hiding in the bushes to ambush us?" Felipe gulped as Guillermo spoke and looked at the nearby bushes. 

"No. She's not with us. Was just in the wrong place at the wrong time and so was her friend," Shane spoke up. 

Guillermo nodded still unsure and looked over to Daryl as he spoke, "You got my brother in there?" 

"Sorry, we're fresh out of white boys. But I've got an Asian and an African American. You interested?" 

Rick stepped forward looking at Guillermo intimidatingly, "I have one of yours, you have two of mine. Sounds like a good enough trade." 

Guillermo shook his head looking back at Rick just as fiercely, "Don't sound even to me." 

"G, come on, man," Miguel begged. 

"Not only do my people got attacked but you offer an unfair trade. Where's the compensation for their pain and suffering? More to the point, where's my bag of guns?" 

Rick shrugged, "Guns?" 

"The bag Miguel saw in the street. The bag Felipe and Jorge were going back to get. That bag of guns." 

Shane looked to the man who was still eyeing Rick suspiciously, "You're mistaken." 

The man shakes his head saying, "I don't think so." 

"About it being yours. It's my bag of guns," Rick shares. 

"The bag was in the street. Anybody could come around and say it was theirs. I'm supposed to take your word? What's to stop my people from unloading on you right here and now and I take what's mine?" 

"You could do that or not," Rick says pointing back to T-dog, who was hidden behind a wall, a sniper in hand. Guillermo looks to T-dog and back at his group and nodded to them. 

Seconds later, two men appear on the roof dragging behind them a girl and a man with bags over there head, "I see two options. You come back with Miguel and my bag of guns, everybody walks. Or you come back locked and loaded, we'll see which side spills more blood." The gang turned around heading back inside the building and leaving Rick, Shane, Miguel, Daryl and T-dog behind. 

~

Rick say down the bag of guns in front of the group and thought silently for a moment. He starts to divide the guns up causing Daryl to scoff, "Them guns are worth more than gold. Gold won't protect your family or put food on the table. You're gonna give that up for them kids?" 

T-dog joined in looking at the angry Daryl and conflicted Rick, "If I knew we'd get Glenn and the girl back, I might agree. But you think that Vato across the way is just gonna hand them over?" 

"You calling g a liar?" Miguel almost shouted, drawing Daryl over to him. 

"Are you apart of this? You want to hold onto your teeth?" Daryl threatened, slapping him sharply. 

"Question is do you trust the man's word?" T-dog questioned. 

"No, question is what are you willing to bet on it? Could be more than them guns? Could be your life? Glenn and some stranger worth that to you?" Daryl countered looking at Rick. 

"What life I have I owe to him. I was nobody to Glenn, just some idiot stuck in a tank. He could have walked away, but he didn't. Neither will I. And let's not forget that stranger is just a kid. If that was your own kid you wouldn't leave her behind, would you?" Shane looked at the man and felt his heartbreaking. Maybe Rick knew she was left behind maybe Lori didn't even tell him. To Shane, it didn't matter he saw that the man was struggling. 

Daryl ignored the question and continued, "So you're gonna hand the guns over?" 

"I didn't say that. Nothing is keeping you three here. You should get out, head back to camp," Rick directed at them. 

To which T-dog shook his head, "And tell your family what?" 

"Come on, this is nuts. Just do like g says," Miguel tells them the fear evident in his eyes. 

Shane looked to Rick again and whispered, "Brother I think you should go back to camp." 

Rick's head snapped to him upon hearing his words, "What?" 

"I think you need to leave. All this," He paused looking back at the hideout, "It's getting too personal for you." 

Rick sighed, "Glenn saved my life. I'm not leaving him." Rick sat up from sorting the guns and went to the window. 

"You know full well this is not about Glenn," He snapped causing him to bow his head, refusing to look at his best friend. 

"That girl, whoever she is reminds you of Jacey. I get that, of course, I do b-but it's not her," Shane told him, "Jacey's gone, man, and that fucking sucks but there's nothing we can do about it." The officer shut his eyes fighting off tears. 

"I'm sorry Rick. I'm so sorry but you need to leave. You just found out Jacey is dead you can't be here. Hell, you shouldn't have come out, to begin with." 

"I'm fine. I can deal with it," He attempted to convince Shane. 

"No you can't," He sighed, "You snapped at Daryl earlier for pointing his weapon at some kid just because she was around Jacey's age." 

Rick slid down the wall leaning his head against the rough bricks, "When he said that she couldn't be more then 15 I guess uh I thought what if it was her. I thought that I might get my angel back," He confessed breaking the silence between the pair. 

"She's gone, Rick," He said causing Rick to cry to himself quietly. 

"Head back to camp okay, take T-dog with you. Just be with your family okay? It's what you need right now," He looked at him unsure, "If not for you, do it for Carl. He misses his sister more than anything. And no matter what I tell him he doesn't believe she's dead," Rick nodded sadly, standing up and wiping away any sign of tears. 

"T-dog you go back with Rick. Take the spare car," T-dog nodded but looked confused at the teary-eyed male. 

"I'll see you back at home, brother," He said to his friend hugging him tightly. 

They left soon after leaving Daryl, Shane and Miguel in the room. "What the hell? You just sent away half of the group. How we supposed to protect ourselves?" Daryl snarls. 

"We'll be fine." Daryl glared at the man unsatisfied with his answer but remained silent.

"Why'd he leave anyway?" Miguel asked curiously as if he weren't the hostage. 

"He lost his kid. I didn't want him to lose it when we're facing them and lose his life too," Daryl nodded to the man almost sympathetically despite the obvious hatred between the two. 

"We ready to do this shit then?"

[dacrethehalls]

After Party

Summary: Delaney gets drunk at a after party and tells her crush how she feels. Word Count: 1.6k Fic Playlist: Click Here A/N: *REPOST FROM MY OLD BLOG* This is like, literally the only steve fic I have ever written lol

“Laney...DELANEY.” I snapped out of my trance looking over at my friend Jonathan.

“What?” I asked resting my chin on my hand. “You’re staring at him again” He mumbled

“Am not.”  I let my gaze shift from my friend Steve who was across the courtyard to Jonathan giving him a small smile. 

“Why don’t you.. I don’t know, tell him how you feel?” It’s not like you haven’t known the guy your entire life.” Jonathan said  

I sighed dropping my head to the table.

“Because, I doubt the feelings are mutual. I mean look at him he’s beautiful and I’m-” “Also beautiful. Delaney you won’t ever know until you try”

I let another groan out standing up. “I have to get to practice before the game. Are you and Nancy coming to the party tonight?”

Jonathan grimaced forcing me to hold my hands up in defense “You don't have to come if we lose but if we win, I better see you there.”

“Fine. I’ll drop Will and my mom off after the game and come. But only if we win” he said  making me smile.

“I mean, as captain of the girls lacrosse team, I can assure you that it’ll be a win plus I’ll need you there for emotional support in case I talk to Steve about how I feel and it gets awkward.” I said with a wink walking off towards the practice field.  

I walked into the party as the crowd starting cheering and chanting my name. I waved to some of my friends while high-fiving others making my way to the drink table. 

“Hey beautiful. You were awesome out there tonight getting the game winning point. Ready for that date yet? A king needs his queen you know” Billy Hargrove said leaning on the counter next to me. 

“Eww. You wish Hargrove. Isn't it about time to go wax your mom’s back hair?.” He rolled his eyes pushing off the counter mumbling something- more than likely calling me a bitch before walking away. 

I grabbed a cup dunking it into the red liquid as I watched Steve walk up beside me. “Delaney Henderson! Look at you being all social tonight.” He said making me laugh.

“Well, what kind of game winning lacrosse captain would I be if I didn’t show up to the after party?”

He chuckled grabbing my hand. “Let’s go dance” he pulled me out to the living room as ‘welcome to the jungle’ by Guns N’ Roses blared through the speakers. 

Everyone started cheering as Jimmy, the kid that wore the Tiger mascot costume jumped on the counter and let out a pitiful roar starting another round of people chanting my name. 

I threw my fist up in the air a few times as I continued to dance with Steve.

Steve and I took turns refilling our drinks and dancing through the course of the night. We both would take occasional pee breaks and at some point I ran into Jonathan and Nancy while going to the bathroom. 

“Heeeeeey.” I squeaked leaning on the wall by them. “Having fun with Steve?” Jonathan asked a smirk growing on his face. 

“Yes! I always have fun with him! I really have to pee. Will you take me home later?” I asked in one breath making him laugh. 

“Yes I will. We’ll find you when we’re ready to leave”

I high-fived Nancy after she congratulated me the team’s win.  

 I walked out of the bathroom spotting Jonathan sitting on the steps on the front porch. I walked outside plopping down next to him

“Remember earlier how you told me I should tell Steve how I feel? I figured out exactly what I wanted to say. I just thought of it when I was peeing. ready?” I cleared my throat 

“You’re so beautiful. I want to play connect the dots with my tongue and your freckles. Like I think God chiseled you from diamonds and bestowed you on the earth just for me to gawk at,” I said as I drank what was left in my cup.  

I had more than enough to drink so I had decided that that was my last one.

“That’s good right? Jonathan, I think I’m a little drunk. Your hair looks nicer than normal what did you do to it? You know I also probably shouldn't tell Steve I want to stick my tongue on him. But I digress, back to telling Steve,” I cleared my throat again 

“-I have loved you since that one day in in fifth grade when Tommy H stuck gum in my hair and you tried beating him up. Remember? He ended up kicking your ass and my mom had to cut all of my hair off making me like a boy. You told me I looked pretty and you liked my hair while everyone else made fun of me. I knew then mmmhmm. I knew then that I loved you.” I said laying my head on Jonathan’s shoulder letting out a small hick up. 

“Should I tell him how I sometimes practice signing my name with his last name? Nah. probably should leave that one out too.” I hiccuped again with a groan. 

“Jonathan can we leave now. I don’t feel good and it’s probably best that I don’t tell Steve how I feel being as drunk as I am and where’s Nancy?” 

I heard a laugh as a jacket was draped over my shoulders and I was scooped up bridal style. I looked up at Jonathan smiling “You’re such a good friend.” I mumbled as my eyes grew heavy and I drifted off to sleep.

“Thanks for getting me home Saturday night” I mumbled sitting on the floor of the dark room. 

“I didn’t take you home... I thought Steve did.” He said looking at me concerned. I vaguely remember talking to Jonathan about Steve that night and having a lot to drink. 

“I sat out on the porch Saturday trying to sober up and we talked about Steve and then I asked you to take me home?” I said dreading what I knew actually happened. 

I had mistaken Steve for Jonathan so everything I said was to Steve.

“You were outside with Steve. I figured you told him how you felt and you two left together” Jonathan said

 I groaned laying on the floor bringing my knees up to my chest.  “I thought that was you not Steve. I drunkenly told him I wanted to lick his neck freckles. I can’t be seen in Hawkins anymore I have to leave and move as far away as I can”

Jonathan try hiding his laugh at my humiliation. “Well at least he know how you feel now”

“Shut up. You are in no way helping me Byers.My locker is next to his. What even is my life right now?” I said making Jonathan lose all control of his composure. 

“I’m so happy you find amusement in this. I’ll be back in here during lunch hiding if you need me” 

I stood at my locker trying to pretend I didn’t notice Steve walking my way.

 “So… Henderson..we have some stuff we need to talk about.” He said leaning against the lockers next to my own. 

I could feel my cheeks grow warm. I looked over at him nervously. 

“Do we? I’m embarrassed enough over this” 

He ran his fingers in his hair smiling “So fifth grade huh?” 

I groaned hitting my head on my locker door. Neither Jonathan nor Steve will ever let me live this down.

“Hey! Stop that! Delaney. seriously, it was cute.”

“You thought drunk me droning on about how much I love you was cute?” I asked looking up at him.

 “Yeah.. I mean, we’ve always be friends even more so now that Dustin thinks of me as a brother or role model or whatever. Why haven't you ever said anything to me? Would have saved me the year I wasted with Nancy. I’ve always had a thing for you too, I just never thought you’d think of me in that way.”

“I guess we both had the same fear of ruining a good friendship by confessing our feelings towards each other.” I said as Steve leaned in closer to me. 

“I guess so… but now that we’ve talked about it and our feelings are out in the open it’s okay for me to do this”

Steve leaned in pressing his lips to mine softly. My heart fluttered as he put his hand on my hip pulling me closer to him deepening the kiss.

 We broke apart as the bell started to ring both smiling at each other.

 I grabbed my books shutting my locker as Steve intertwined our fingers leaning over planting another kiss on lips. 

“Let’s go cutie. We’re going to be late for class”

“That’s not what I asked. STEVE. Do. You. Feel. The. Electricity.” Dustin yelled at Steve. 

“Dustin. Get out of my room!” I said pushing him out and shutting the door. 

Dustin had caught us making out on the couch and he followed us to my room yelling at Steve like the idiot he is.

“What the hell is he talking about?” I asked looking at Steve as my door flung open.

“Listen here shithead. She’s my sister and I know she likes you because she talks about you in her diary. A lot. And I just-” I cut him off by taking his hat and smacking him in the face with it. 

“Out. Now. or I’ll tell all your little friends what really happened at the Christmas party.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Try me.”

Dustin scrunched his nose looking between Steve and I pointing his index finger from his eyes to Steve. 

“Goodbye Dustin.” I said shutting my door and locking it.

“Where were we?” I asked walking back over to Steve. He pulled me closer to him kissing my nose. 

“I believe you were about to lick my freckles?” I groaned dropping my head to his shoulder. “You’re going to hold this against me forever aren’t you.” 

“You bet I am.”

[reddeadgarlicbread]

All I Have - A Red Dead Redemption 2 Story - Chapter Twenty

Reminder that requests are OPEN

Synopsis:

Sage Marston is the younger sister of John Marston, member of the notorious Van Der Linde Gang. After being separated as children, John finds his sister and invites her to run away with him and the gang.

As Sage quickly becomes a member of the family and valued member of the gang, she also falls in love with the charismatic leader, Dutch Van Der Linde. But little does she know, another member of the gang is falling in love with her, as well.

How will Sage cope with being a member of the gang? And what will happen when Dutch begins to lose himself?

Dutch Van Der Linde x OC Arthur Morgan x OC

Major spoilers for RDR2

Sage stood with Hosea and Dutch inside Shady Belle, August in her arms, as the two men went over the plan for the bank robbery. She would be tagging along, and she was excited. This would be the most excitement she’d seen in ages. While Dutch wasn’t allowing her to come into the bank to help, she would be providing a distraction with Hosea and Abigail.

“I’m telling you, Dutch, this is the way to do this job,” Hosea said as he leaned on the table Dutch was sitting at. “The distraction’ll buy you all the time you need.”

Dutch sighed. “I...don’t like it…”

“It’s the right plan. We’ve done the work. I’ve been in town, looking...watching, and...waiting. I’ve, I’ve...I’ve tested it as well as I can. It’s the right plan.”

“I know! I just...Well, between the three of us, I’m...nervous, I suppose. I suppose that’s it.”

“You’re never nervous, that’s been my job all these years.”

“I know.” Dutch sighed again, his hand on his temple. “You’re sure?”

“Certain. Well...not certain it will be done, but certain it can be done. And certain this is the only way I see we can do it. I’ve timed it out more than once.”

“Well, you’re the expert.”

Arthur approached the three of them, flashing Sage a smile before turning to Dutch and Hosea, glancing over at the plan in front of them. “Gentlemen. Sage,” He greeted.

“Look, the bank...Karen, Tilly, Abigail. I sent them all. They all said the same thing. There’s no more than one armed guard. And the police...it’s a city, there are police, but as far as we can tell...the patrols will all be going this way…” he pointed to the map, “when Abigail, Sage and I cause the diversion, and that’s the opportunity.”

“What do you think, Arthur?” Dutch asked.

“Well, I don’t see we have a lot of choice,” Arthur said. “We linger around here, we know we’re dead.”

“But the plan?”

“We got a decent bunch. We know how to fight. Those city cops, they don’t seem so tough. As long as we move fast. I reckon doing it in the day, with a distraction. If that’s what Hosea is saying? It’s a good a plan as any.”

“I, I think I agree,” Dutch said.

“And we do it at night, there’s the drama of just getting into the bank,” Hosea said. “Can’t do that silently. They’ll pick us off far easier.”

“I know, I’m...I’m just making sure.”

“Every plan is a good plan if we execute it properly. Every problem we had was because we did not...execute...properly. Even Blackwater from my understanding.”

Dutch nodded. “You’re right.” He stood, looking between Sage, Hosea, and Arthur. “Let’s rob this bastard.” He got up, beginning to walk from the room. “Everyone get some rest. We ride out in the morning. Look smart. Travel light.”

//

The next day, everyone was preparing for the heist. Sage had left August with Tilly and Mary Beth, and now stood outside with Dutch and Abigail, dressed in one of her most beautiful, fancy dresses. Arthur walked out of the house, looking handsome as ever in his suit. He walked over to them.

“You got everything, Arthur?” Dutch asked as he approached his horse.

“Sure,” Arthur said.

“So…” Hosea began, as he climbed on one of the wagons with Abigail and Sage. “We rob ourselves a bank, and within six weeks, we’re living life anew in a tropical idyll, spending the last of our days as banana farmers? Let’s get out of this godforsaken place and go rob ourselves a bank!”

The gang cheered as they took off, Hosea, Sage, Abigail, Charles, and Bill on wagons, and Dutch, Arthur, Micah, Javier, Lenny, and John on horses.

“This is it, gentlemen. The last one,” Dutch called to his men as they rode.

“Where have we heard that before?” John asked.

“What has happened to you, John? You lost all your heart.”

“I’m just trying to stay real about all this.”

“‘Real’. Oh how I detest that word. So devoid of imagination.”

“How soon are we shipping out?” Micah asked.

“Soon as we get a passage organized. Boat down to Argentina and another around the cape.”

“What about the money in Blackwater? We’re just gonna leave that behind?”

“Forget that, it’s gone. You all talk like it’s the only goddamn money in the world. We’re gonna take that and more, take it from the people who take it from us. This isn’t some hick town, hundred dollar operation. This is a big city bank! Hosea has done his reconnaissance, we’ve been over this. The plan. One last time. Hosea, Abigail, and Sage draw out the police, we go in calm and fast. John and Lenny, secure the front doors. Javier takes the side exit. Bill, Micah, and Charles, control the crowd. Me and Arthur deal with the bank manager and vault. Got it?” The gang all gave out signs of approval. “Good. Alright, that’s enough talk. Let’s get this done.”

“Gentlemen, let us go ahead,” Hosea called back to the rest of them.

“How long do you need?” Dutch asked.

“Not long. Fifteen minutes or less. You’ll know by the noise. Any problems, we’ll see you in camp.”

Hosea drove the wagon faster, bringing their wagon into Saint Denis first. They rode without talking, not wanting to draw attention to their plan. Once they got to the location for their distraction, they hopped off the wagon. Hosea and Sage grabbed the dynamite off the back of the wagon and planted it.

“You ready, ladies?” Hosea asked.

“Ready as we’ll ever be,” Sage said.

Hosea, Sage, and Abigail lit the dynamite, then ran for cover. The building blew up, then the three of them began to make their escape. They ran through the streets as the law descended on the site of the explosion. As they ran, Sage spotted some men in familiar suits.

“Are those...Pinkertons?” she asked incredulously. “What are they doing here?”

“We can’t worry about that now,” Abigail said. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

“But the boys -”

“We have to get out of here!”

Abigail grabbed her hand as they ran through alleys and between buildings. Sage glanced behind her, looking to see if the Pinkertons or any cops had been following them - and gasped.

“Abigail, where’s Hosea?”

Abigail stopped, looking behind them. “Oh, god…” she said.

“We have to go find him.”

“We can’t, Sage. We have to get back to camp.”

“We can’t leave him!” Sage said, beginning to raise her voice. “Sage!” Abigail scolded. “We cannot. We need to get home. I don’t know if he was taken, but if he was, we can’t be taken, too. We have the rest of camp to worry about. We have our sons to worry about. Hosea can handle himself. We have to GO.”

Abigail grabbed her hand once again and began pulling her through the streets. Once they were far enough away, they began walking, trying not to draw attention to themselves. They stole some horses from outside the saloon and began riding back to camp.

//

The men didn’t return. Night descended, and Sage sat with Abigail, rocking August in her arms, both of them worrying about the rest of the boys, when they heard hooves approaching camp. Sage stood, seeing Charles riding in, looking exhausted. Abigail took August from her arms and Sage ran over to him, throwing her arms around his neck as he dismounted Taima. He wrapped his arms around her as well, holding her close.

“Oh, Charles,” she said. “You don’t know how happy I am to see you.”

Charles caressed her hair as he held her. “I’m here. We’re going to be okay.”

“Where’s everyone else?” she asked, looking up into his eyes. “Where’s Arthur? Where’s Dutch? And Hosea - did you see Hosea?”

Charles sighed. “Hosea...was captured, by the Pinkertons. He...didn’t make it. Neither did Lenny.”

“Oh, no,” Sage said, looking down. Charles caught her as her legs gave out, and she began sobbing. “We knew something had happened to him. He wasn’t behind us, but Abigail said we had to keep going. Oh, God, Charles, it was out fault.”

“It wasn’t your fault!” he said, his voice firm. “It wasn’t your fault,” he repeated, softer this time, sitting on the ground and pulling her into his lap. “The rest of the boys... they escaped on a boat. I created a distraction so they could get out of here. I...don’t know where they ended up, or when or if they’re coming back. But I do know they got out safe.”

“They’re...gone?” she said, her face buried into Charles’ neck, as if she was too afraid to open her eyes, too afraid that would make it real.

“Yes,” he said. He rubbed her back gently. “They’re gone.”

//

That night, Sage asked for Charles to stay with her. She hadn’t slept alone since joining the gang, and she was afraid to now. The house was big and empty without the rest of the guys there, and she didn’t want to be alone. Charles agreed, though he insisted he bring his bedroll and sleep on the floor - ever the gentleman. Sage slept more soundly with Charles there, and August slept soundly in his crib, unaware of any of what was going on around him. Unaware that his father was gone.

Sage cried herself to sleep that night, wondering if she would ever see Arthur, Dutch, Javier, Bill, or even Micah ever again.

[dracox-serdriel]

The Second Death - Chapter 7: Gaze

Title: The Second Death [AO3] [FF] [LJ] Chapter: Gaze Universes: Superdead (Supernatural/Walking Dead) Crossover Pairings: Dean Winchester/Castiel (Destiel), Carol Pelletier/Daryl Dixon (Caryl) Word count: 2,500 Spoilers: All episodes of Supernatural through 07x23. All episodes of Walking Dead through 06x16. Rating: NC-17/MA Timeline: Supernatural, after episode 07x23 and Walking Dead, after episode 06x09. Summary: When Dean and Castiel take down big daddy Leviathan Dick Roman, the blast catapults them into a special kind of hell, where the living must survive in in a post-apocalyptic world filled with the Walking Dead. Desperate to learn how long they've been gone and what happened in their absence, Dean and Cas search for any sign of what went wrong, which is difficult in a world where all infrastructure has failed and strangers can't be trusted. Together they search for Sam Winchester in the middle of an apocalypse that's managed overrun the planet, and they're more than a little surprised to run into a group of survivors that'd give most Hunters a run for their money.

Meanwhile, after Daryl's attempt to bring new people back to Alexandria backfires, he looks for any excuse to hit the road for a few days. Carol, unwilling to let him go on his own, demands to join him. A basic run turns into something else when they run into two strangers who have no trouble dispatching walkers and don't seem to operate under the new world order. In fact, they seem completely lost.

Read the Second Death on LJ, AO3, or from the beginning on Tumblr.

The Second Death Chapter 7: Gaze

Carol watched as Dean darted into the woods as if his life depended on it. Then Daryl swooped down and cursed as he grabbed a gun, before racing after him.

Damn idiots, both of them.

Knowing she had to follow, she wrenched the weapon from the dead man at her feet, but in so doing, she caught sight of the stranger's dull, vacant eyes.

And she froze.

Another one, she thought. What number is he? How many is that now? How many more will there be?

Yesterday it felt as if one conversation had dispelled the worst of it, but all that had actually done was lock it away for a little while longer.

"Think about who."

Daryl's voice rang in her head. She needed to remember who she'd saved. Everybody who'd gotten caught up at Terminus - Michonne, Carl, Rick, Daryl, Sasha, Glenn, Maggie, Bob - and before that, Judith, Tyreese, Mika, Lizzie...

But she hadn't really rescued them, had she? Mika and Lizzie didn't make it to Terminus. Bob and Tyreese didn't make it to Alexandria. She gave them a few more days or a few more weeks, but she'd lost them all the same. Who was she, anyway?

A woman who couldn't even save her own daughter.

A sob dragged her from her thoughts. She turned to the two survivors standing over their fallen traveling companion. The woman pushed a knife into his temple as tears streamed down her cheeks.

Carol gave them a quick once-over and decided that they must have a camp nearby. Neither had so much as a stitch out of place, and they carried almost nothing - there was only one pack for all three of them. Either they had planned a trip for one day, or they were morons.

She couldn't rule out the latter, not yet, and focusing on them made things easier. She'd lost enough, and she wasn't going to let a moment of self-recrimination interfere with protecting her people. She needed to know more about these people they'd just stuck their necks out for... and about the people they'd saved them from.

"I'm Carol," she said.

"Randy," the man replied.

"Barbara," the woman said automatically. "This is - was - Bobby, my brother."

"I'm sorry," Carol said in her most sympathetic voice. She waited for a moment before pointing to the other bodies. "You know who did this?"

"Negans," Randy replied. "That's what we call them. They collect people - communities - and exploit them."

"So you've met them before?" Carol asked.

"Not us," Barbara replied. "My brother had. He and a few others got away from them by putting a walker herd between them. They thought the herd wiped them out."

"Friend of mine had a run in with them," Carol said, carefully selecting her words. "But that was miles and miles from here."

"Yeah," Randy replied. "They're everywhere."

"What?" Barbara asked her companion. "What do you mean, everywhere?"

Her nagging doubts waned in the shadow of the argument unfolding before her. She honed in on their body language - the thousand ways they communicated without speaking - and absorbed every syllable.

She knew this was just one more stopgap, buying her a little more time before that dam finally broke, but she took it all the same.

Dean galloped haphazardly through the forest, knowing full well that he was running into a gunfight with a machete and three bullets to his name with no idea as to who, what, where, or how many.

It didn't really matter, did it? He'd been here - wherever the hell here was - for three days, and the only thing he learned about this place was that it had far too many douchebags and asshats.

He couldn't afford to lose the only family he knew he had left. If he lost Cas, who'd help him figure out what the hell happened? Who'd help him find Sammy and Kev? Who'd watch his back?

Something solid collided with his shoulder and sent him crashing sideways into a tree. He recovered immediately, training his gun on the assailant, his finger on the trigger and ready.

"You trying to die?" Daryl growled.

"What the hell?" Dean replied loudly. "Cas is out there in the crossfire - "

As if on cue, a gargling noise heralded the arrival of a trio of undead, one of which appeared from nowhere at Dean's elbow. He easily sidestepped its grasp, but when he shifted his weight to switch to his machete, his foot slipped against a root. And suddenly the ground was coming up to meet him as more zombies came out of the woodwork.

In one swift movement, Daryl jabbed a knife into the closest one's skull, kicking its rot body right into the two behind it, buying himself some time to take out two others that'd come up behind him.

Dean didn't waste any time getting to his feet, slashing haphazardly as he rose, maneuvering so he was back to back with Daryl.

Shit, shit, shit.

They were coming from all sides now, moaning and snarling as they limped closer, leaving them without no way out.

Dean swung the machete in an arch, taking out two undead bastards at once, biting back a scream inspired by a jarring pain in his elbow. He must've fallen on it, but he didn't have time to think too hard about an injury. He could take the pain.

He swung the blade back, hitting another across the face, taking its nose and one ear clean off, but it kept coming. He stabbed straight through its eye, putting it down, but when he pulled his weapon back, the body came with it. So he pulled a Daryl and kicked it off his machete, throwing it into several others.

Walker bowling. Strike!

That's when Dean noticed just how many there were, swarming in from behind every tree. He reminded himself that these were just things. They weren't smart. They didn't learn. As long as he had his blade in front of him, he'd be fine.

So he slashed and hacked mercilessly, dropping bodies left and right. He'd taken out a hell of a lot more of them before, but he'd done that because, well, because he could. He'd been buying Cas time, but his back hadn't been against a wall like this.

Come to think of it, he hadn't put them all down, had he? When they'd driven off, more were still coming.

His arm radiated pain, and now his head throbbed, too, with all the groaning closing in on him, occasionally punctuated by Daryl swearing. The thing that really got him, though, was the stench; it crawled up his nose, making his eyes water as he gagged, practically choking on it.

They'd only been at this for a few minutes, and he was already getting tired. How the hell did he land himself in this mess?

All at once, dozens of answers flooded his head, each one a scathing reprimand in his father's voice. He knew exactly how he'd gotten here: by fucking up, like he always did. If he'd taken two seconds to think, he wouldn't be surrounded by zombies with some hick he barely knew.

Dean focused on the rotting bodies coming at him, hoping to block out the endless insults churning in his head, knowing it wasn't going to happen.

Then, suddenly, everything went quiet.

No, not everything... the undead attack party was still groaning and hissing, Daryl kept on grunting and cursing under his breath, and Dean couldn't stop his inner self-loathing. Yet, he was certain a silence had fallen.

The gunfire.

Dean had raced toward it and kept it in partial focus as he fought - a reminder that he couldn't die now, not when his family needed him. No matter which way he slashed and stabbed, he'd check it against that gunfire so he'd know the way to Cas.

But now it was gone. Stopped. Silent.

"Fuck!" Dean shouted as he hacked through yet another walker, the exclamation oddly relieving. Each time he swung his machete, he punctuated it with another, "Fuck!"

Then the murmur of an engine started, growing closer by the second, accompanied by the occasional pop of a riffle.

Less than a minute later, a motorcycle roared into view. Carol held two guns aloft, taking out the undead with precision, always waiting for her shot before pulling the trigger. Dean recognized the driver as the woman from the previous clearing - he hadn't bothered asking her name.

The riders circled the area, putting down approaching zombies, leaving a sizeable portion for Dean and Daryl. It only took a few more minutes to clear the immediate area, providing them with a much-needed reprieve.

The bike stopped as close as it could, given the trees and the mounds of dead bodies piled everywhere, and Carol hopped off.

"Two weeks," the driver said. "Good luck."

Before Dean could ask what the hell she meant, the stranger kicked off and sped the way she came.

"Where's Castiel?" Carol asked.

"This way," Daryl grunted.

Dean wanted to point out that he was going the wrong way - the gunfire had been in a different direction - but Daryl was already winding through the trees like he was following a homing beacon, and Carol was on his heels.

Did this guy even know what he was doing?

Before that train of thought could come full circle, he heard the telltale groan of walkers on the approach. His injured arm throbbed. If he got stuck facing another crew of them alone, he'd be screwed.

No, he'd be eaten.

"Damn it!"

He followed them, hoping they knew where the hell they were going.

It sounded like walkers were coming from everywhere, but Daryl could tell they were a way's off yet. Maybe they'd get distracted by the motorcycle for a spell and give him, Carol, and Dean enough time to find Cas and double back to the cars.

He caught sight of another clearing up ahead - pretty large, possibly one that led out to the road - so he slowed, closing in by moving silently between points of cover, because this time, he was getting a damn good look before putting his ass on the line. He cast a glance back to check on Carol, who managed to keep Dean from running straight in. Daryl held up his hand, signaling them to hang back for now, and she nodded her head, yes.

Something had happened here, but hell if he knew what. He kept low as he ducked into the edge of the clearing, stepping over dismembered limbs and ducking entrails that were dangling from tree limbs. Seemed like some jackass used a bomb to take out a few walkers.

One of the bodies was a fresh kill, so Daryl jabbed his blade into the top of its head just as Carol and Dean joined him, not waiting for his damn signal. It pissed him off, but he couldn't really blame them, not with how this place looked.

"Cas!" Dean shouted. "Cas!"

How the hell had this guy survived so long? Sure as hell not from being smart.

Before Daryl had a chance to speak, a putrid smell caught his attention, ten times more powerful than a few walkers up wind. He instinctively followed the scent and spotted walkers on the far end of the clearing. Some were bloated, like they'd been in water, but the rest looked like recent kills, going by their clothing.

"Cas? Cas!"

"Cas ain't here," Daryl pointed out.

What the hell were they doing? Even with their new guns, they didn't have the ammo to deal with this new wave, let alone doubling back to the cars.

Why were they even looking for Cas out here? He'd been in a sniper's perch - no way he got way out here. Hell, they should've gone straight back to camp in case his cover fire attracted unfriendlies, not running around in the woods dodging walkers.

"We gotta move," Daryl said.

"Not without Cas," Dean replied.

"We'll cover more ground with the cars," Carol pointed out. "Maybe he - "

She stopped mid-sentence, so Daryl followed her line of sight to where walkers were piling into the clearing.

He'd seen plenty of messed up shit: hundreds of walkers melted into pavement, still biting and groaning; his undead brother eating some poor smuck; his best friend ripping open another man's throat with his teeth. Yet all that paled in comparison to what he was seeing now.

Someone was there, casually moving between walkers without garnering their interest. Whenever the person passed one, it fell, and from this distance, it seemed like the walkers were going down in waves.

The wind picked up, and his trench coat billowed. That's when Daryl saw that the man was flicking something - rocks from the look of it - at the walkers, landing the headshot every time, barely looking at the target.

It took him a full minute to recognize the person as Castiel. He was covered in guts and blood from head to foot. He had this look on his face - all determination and fury - and he radiated energy, like some kind of avenging angel or some shit.

Fuck that. There was no such thing as angels. Just broken assholes unwilling to become as ugly as the world.

Cas joined them without a word, leaving a small army of bodies in his wake.

"Dude, what the hell?" Dean asked.

"They irked me," Cas replied.

"Talk later," Carol said. "There's too many walkers to stay out in the open like this. Let's get back to the camp and regroup."

"No," Cas said. "I've found something. You all need to see it."

For previous and next chapters, please go to The Second Death main Tumblr page.

Chapter notes: I hope you enjoyed this latest installment.