#ftwdfanfic

[ftwdb]

Don’t say go.

Chapter 18.

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love Triangle!

It’s dark by the time you feel the strength of The Pull reaching its peak, and you know what that means. You look around into the darkness. In the wastes there isn’t much besides stretches of empty barren land and mountains in the distance. You know you’re not yet at your destination which can only mean one thing; the boy with the flag was headed toward you too.

You see twin lights in the distance. A car headed toward you. Eventually you stop in the middle of the road and just wait. The lights get closer until they shine on your windscreen and you both sit, unmoving, just waiting for the other to make the first move.

You cut the truck’s engine and step out.

The boy does the same. The light of your vehicles illuminate the night just enough that you can make each other out in the darkness.

The boy steps forward enough so that he is thrown into view and you can see the warm brown of his eyes, his features which are so different from Troy’s, softer but still strong.

You hesitate. Your gun is tucked in the back of your jeans and your fingers twitch.

The boy speaks.

“Hi… I’m Nick.”

You don’t say anything, you just keep watching until he clears his throat as if a little unsure of himself.

“You came alone?” he asks.

You could have kicked yourself. Coming alone had been a risk but now that he was here, in the middle of nowhere, and no one knew where you’d gone, you realised how vulnerable you’d left yourself.

“For now,” you answered him flatly. At least if you were vague about whether you had people with you it might make him have second thoughts if he was planning anything…

The boy waits a beat before trying again.

“I guess you felt it too then…”

You don’t want to say the words out loud so you simply nod your head. The boy, Nick, continues.

“I thought I was going crazy at first. I never thought I’d find my… find you. Feel it, you know?”

You frown at this. Everyone worries they’ll never find their soulmate but something in his voice captures your attention. It’s less that he’s worried about the odds and more… something you can’t quite distinguish.

“Why?” you ask.

Nick hesitated before shrugging a little.

“That’s a… it doesn’t matter. What matters now is that I found you. It feels… weird. Don’t you think?”

Perhaps if you hadn’t already had the experience with Troy you would agree. But you didn’t want him to know that Troy was your soulmate and so you don’t answer his question.

“Look I came here to warn you. Some of the people from my community are coming back tonight to finish what they started. You need to tell your people to run.”

Nick frowns at this information.

“We agreed to a truce-“

You shake your head in annoyance. You don’t want to explain all this. You want him to just listen to your warning and leave so you can forget about whatever this mistake is between you both and go home, go back to Troy.

“They’re acting of their own accord. Some of the men have certain… loyalties. This isn’t about protecting their home, it’s about revenge.”

Nick is watching you closely now and you don’t like the way his eyes are roaming over you. You freeze. You wonder if he can feel your emotions just like you can with Troy. You reach out in the same way you do with Troy and try to find Nick, to feel what he feels… there’s nothing. Just the regular sense of The Pull.

“You’re warning me because of this feeling between us? You came looking for me because of it.”

You shake your head growing more frustrated as all you want to do is head back before Mike and the others see you out here.

“I don’t have time to explain myself. You have to get your people and go far away from here. Don’t come back.”

Nick’s eyes widen as he realises you have no intention of staying with him.

“But… you have to come with me. When I left earlier, after I saw you, it felt like my heart was being-“

“It doesn’t matter.” You say quickly, all too familiar with that pain. “I can’t come. I won’t go with you. But I don’t want you to die either so, please, leave.”

Nick is staring at you incredulously.

“I can’t do that.”

You actually growl from your frustration with him.

“Why!?”

“Because,” Nick says as he steps closer. You take a large step away from him. You can’t risk him getting too close, having him touch you. You don’t know what will happen.

“I just found you. I can’t walk away!” he continues.

“Then run! Drive! Fucking skip for all I care! If you stay, you die. Not that I care-“

“That’s a lie.” Nick cuts you off quickly. “Soulmates need each other. Hearts literally break when they lose one another. So why… why are you denying this?”

You swallow nervously and look at the truck. You could just get back in and drive away, but what if he follows? You have a feeling he would. He seems the type. Reckless and stubborn.

“I… it’s complicated.”

You say, and you hate how pathetic that sounds.

“‘It’s Complicated’ used to be a Facebook status.” Nick quips. “Tell me the truth. Why run from me?”

“I’m not!”

“Then what are you running from!? Or… wait… what are you going back to?”

You clench your jaw as Nick slowly starts to put the pieces together in his head.

“You have someone-“

“No.”

“A boyfriend? Fiancé?”

“No! No one!”

“Your home then, your community. You’re worried this would cause a problem. Conflict? But maybe it could help solve the bad blood between us! Two soulmates who find each other on opposites sides-“

“This isn’t bloody Romeo and Juliet, Nick!”

He grins and it makes you want to slap the beautiful smile off his face.

“You’re hardly Juliet sweetheart.”

You snarl, your anger beginning to erupt. Why won’t he just listen! Why make this so complicated!

“Whatever! Just get in your car and drive away Romeo!”

Nick laughs and it’s almost like he’s enjoying this.

“Oh the universe is truly a bitch. I didn’t think I’d find my soulmate because I didn’t deserve one. But maybe I do. It’s ironic that she would hate me, a poetic kind of punishment I guess…”

Your expression eases but doesn’t soften as you listen to him ramble. Hate? You didn’t hate him…

“Why would you be punished?” you ask, your senses on alert in case this was the part where he confesses to being a serial killer or something.

Nick shrugs again.

“If you got to know me, you’d understand.”

You shake your head again with a weary sigh.

“You don’t listen do you.”

Nick steps forward again and this time the light moves so he’s back in the shadows with you.

“I could… but you’d need to actually tell me something for me to hear it. Something besides “run away” because that isn’t happening.”

You swear at him and he smirks.

“We don’t have time. Your people will be killed.”

Nick rubs his hand over the back of his neck and it finally seems to dawn on him, he has other responsibilities. Other people to protect.

“When are your people attacking?”

“They’re leaving the ranch around midnight, so probably by the early hours of the morning. Before sunrise though.”

“Element of surprise, cover of darkness. They’re smart.”

“And well armed. So will you listen to me now?”

Nick stares at you for a few seconds and you almost believe he’d let his people risk being slaughtered instead of going back to warn them.

“Fine.”

You blink at him.

“Fine?”

“That’s what I said. I’ll go back. I’ll warn them.”

“And you’ll run? You can’t fight back, it’ll be a bloodbath.”

“Look I can’t promise anything… we have some stubborn members of our group and they might not take the truce being broken well-“

“The truce isn’t broken. It’s just a small group-“

“Still breaking the truce. Still disobeying your leader, right?”

You bite your tongue. Jeremiah wasn’t their “leader” officially but he was as good as.

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess. So what? You’ll go back and they’ll try to defend themselves?”

Nick shrugs again.

“If they think it’s more beneficial than running.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose.

“I’m getting a damn headache.”

For some reason this amuses Nick.

“Head rub?”

Your look at him is deadly and he sniggers.

“Joking. Lighten up. Look, I’ll go back and do what I can to stop anymore death. But I can’t promise anything. We lost people. The guy who was in charge came at us like a demon. We didn’t stand a chance…”

Your stomach twists as Nick talks about Troy.

“You want revenge?”

Nick’s expression blanks out and you recognise the perfectly controlled mask on his face. You’d used it yourself before.

“Me? No. But there are those who do.”

“Then convince them their lives aren’t worth it. Tonight is not their night to die. Please… no more death.”

Your voice breaks as you finish your sentence and Nick tilts his head at you. You look away, hating that you’d let some vulnerability slip through.

“Who’d you lose?”

You take a slow breath and shake your head.

“Doesn’t matter. Just… do what you can. And if you can’t save them… save yourself at least.”

Nick looks like he wants to say more. He looks pained.

“Can I… see you again?”

It’s almost laughable. Like a schoolboy asking out his crush. You place your hand on the door of the truck and grip it tight as you give him a firm “no” and turn away before you can see the look on his face.

You slide into your truck and slam the door, locking it before turning in the engine. This was for the best. You didn’t know what else to do. There had been some mistake and maybe Nick had another soulmate out there somewhere too? You hoped so… you didn’t want him to be in pain.

You hear a tap at the window and you look over to see Nick still standing there, motioning for you to wind it down. You do, only a few inches so you can hear him speak.

Nick pauses as he looks you over before speaking.

“It’s him, isn’t it.”

You frown and Nick elaborates.

“The guy who attacked us. The one who was hurt. He’s why you won’t stay with me.”

You feel your stomach drop. Your hands clench on the wheel as you grit your teeth.

“His name is Troy.”

“Troy…” Nick repeats and you hear the sadness and disappointment in his voice. “Well, you must love him a lot to choose him over your soulmate.”

You avoid his eyes still and stare straight ahead until the light from his car burns your eyes.

Nick continues.

“… I hope he makes it, for your sake. And… I want you to know it wasn’t me. I didn’t hurt him.”

You nod, not that it would have mattered. As much as you loved Troy you could understand he’d made a choice that led to his own injuries. Even if he’d done it to protect you… you hated that the blood that had been spilt was on your hands too now.

“I have to go,” you say emptily and put the truck into reverse.

Nick steps back just in time to save his foot being run over as you reverse and turn, glancing back to see his shadow in the headlights as you drive back home. Back to Troy. Back to where your heart felt complete as you tried to ignore how it felt as if you’d just left a piece of it in the darkness behind you…

[ftwdb]

Imagine being in a polyamorous relationship with Troy and Nick.

Smuttyness under the link.

Troy has you sat with your back on his chest, his arms pinning your hands to your chest as your legs are hooked over his knees so he can keep you spread while Nick eats you hungrily, hands grabbing and squeezing your thighs as they keep you from being able to move as you hit your limit over and over and over…

[ftwdb]

Just dirty, filthy smut about Troy’s obsession with making notes while “watching you”…

Troy likes to watch you masturbate. He will sit on a chair nearby or on the edge of the bed and make notes, describing what you do to yourself and how it makes your body respond and the different sounds it coaxes out of you. He’ll time you. He will note down the length and intensity of each orgasm.

Then he will use this information to see if he can make you go longer, moan louder and your body shake harder. He keeps record of his own “personal bests” and nothing turns him on more than “interviewing” you after each round. Prodding you for more information, more in depth descriptions of what you felt and what you did until your face is red and your chest heaving.

Afterward he places the pencil in-between the pages and snaps it shut. The sound always makes you flinch because you know you’re in for another round.

“Let’s try it this way…”

He will tell you, gesturing for you to move positions. You oblige. You’re happy to be his test subject. His little experiment. After all, he might be getting off on the things he is learning and observing but you’re the one reaping the benefits…

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go

Chapter 1

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love triangle.

You woke with a start, your hand coming to the thrumming sensation in your chest as you gasped and panted. How many nights had it been now since the feeling had woken you, pulling you from much needed sleep at all hours? You’d lost count.

You wished you could remember your dream, to make the link between the figure you kept seeing in your sleep and the pull in your chest that never faded; a silhouette in the dark, moving closer as you tried to reach out a hand to grasp the shadowy outline.

Sometimes you thought you saw the profile of a face, a strong jaw with a defined nose. Eyes that swam between such a dark hue of blue they seemed black and at other times the gentle colours of a calm ocean. The features always melted away when you woke, no matter how hard you tried to remember them, to scribble down what you could in the small red notebook you kept tucked inside your boot. The images were scattered and jumbled, so close to becoming a complete picture; one your subconscious seemed to tell you held the an answer you didn’t even know you were seeking.

It had started when you’d left the remains of San Diego with nothing but the clothes on your back and the supplies you’d managed to scavange in your backpack. At first you’d thought little of it until you noticed when you headed in a certain direction the feeling seemed to grow stronger.

It had been with shock that you realised it was more than just the grief of all you’d lost, the fear of the dead and the unknown stretched out before you. It was it. The Pull. That was when the dreams started.

Everyone knew about the Pull and you were glad there was no one to berate you for how slow you’d been to realise what it meant.

That your soulmate, whoever they may be, was close.

You’d wandered with nothing but the feeling in your chest to guide you, moving in an easterly direction as you rose with the sun each morning and slept when it had disappeared beyond the horizon at your back at night. There was one morning when you had woken to feel nothing, and it had left you clawing at your skin, painfully aware of the hollowness within you that came with the loss of the Pull.

You’d lain down and grieved again that day. You remembered the lessons you’d been given about soulmate’s, what it meant to be one of the few lucky enough to find their match… and what it meant to be one of the many who never would.

At the start of the rise of the dead you’d witnessed the survivors around you randomly crumple over with an agonising pain, searing so deeply it felt like their hearts were broke in two. This pain… it was how you knew your soulmate was dead.

So as you lay there with your eyes closed against the morning light, you tried to reach inside and find the cord that tied you to someone you’d never met, never known and never would, you waited for the pain.

But it never came.

Once the sun was at its highest point in the sky and you were just beginning to consider retracing your steps back toward the ruins of San Diego - since there was nothing for you here other than sunscorched grass and hopelessness - that it hit you like a punch to the chest. An invisable hand reached between your ribs and pulled. The feeling was strong enough that you felt physically lifted to your feet.

Ignoring the worn state of your boots that were on the verge of falling apart, your tired and aching mucles began to scream at you; but not in resistance of your movement, instead your body urged you on.

You moved as quickly as you could, stumbling over dry earth and crumbling rock. The Pull kept you going, driving you further east. You pulled the map from your bag, stopping even as your feet ached and screamed at you.

Go, you’re so close…

Your head began to swim as you tried to fix your eyes on the lines printed on the page in front of you. You’d marked off your route, making note of any landmarks you passed to keep track of your journey. But as another feeling overtook the one that had been propelling you onward you looked toward the sky and realised just how low the sun had fallen.

It was almost night and your mouth was dry as the paper in your hands. You panicked, realising you’d neither eaten or had anything to drink as you licked your chapped lips and tasted the salt of your sweat soaked skin.

The last remnants of your water disappeared all too quickly as your legs finally collapsed and you hit the ground hard.

That was when you heard it. The low rumble of an engine in the distance. A set of lights appeared and lit the ground around you. You were closer to a road than you’d realised as a truck rolled to a slow stop nearby.

The feeling in your chest tightened. You could barely breath as a door opened and boots hit the ground, sending up a swirl of dust and dirt around legs clad in military gear.

You tried to stand but your head swam even more, the very ground beneath you seemed to lurch upward as your eyes travelled over the oncoming man.

He was tall, the light of his truck illuminated a mess of slightly curled hair and cast shadows over his face. As he moved closer and you collapsed back on the ground, the dry grass scratching at the exposed skin on the nape of your neck, you felt the pull of the bond finally give out as if a spring pulled taught had finally been released. You felt it pass through your entire body, a feeling of relief like when you woke after a deep sleep, stretching out the sleepiness from your muscles as the blood pumped and flowed.

The man, who had been holding a rifle in front of his face as he glanced around into the darkness, gasped. He said something then, but your ears were muffled by the sound of rushing water.

Before the dizziness swallowed you up and you fell into utter darkness you felt the smile stretch across your face. You tried to speak but your dry throat could only groan.

You didn’t see the way the man lowered his gun and stepped closer, his eyes fixing on the rise and fall of your chest. You were breathing slightly too fast and the signs of exposure were obvious on your skin. He heard footsteps behind him and gestured for one of his men to go to you as he took a step back and observed the girl he’d been dreaming of for weeks.

“Troy, we need to get her back to the ranch if she’s got a chance in hell of waking up.”

Troy made a sound in his throat, an affirmation, as the other man lifted the girl with ease and moved her onto the backseat of Troy’s truck.

He could now observe her more closely in the light. She was thin, long limbs covered by filthy clothes. He wondered how long she had been wandering. Had she felt it too? The never-ending ache in his chest had left him searching the wilderness day after day under the guise of searching for supplies or defending the perimeter from the dead, or those who saught to take what they had.

Once his eyes had settled on her face and he’d known it was her it was like the need in his body, as strong as a need for water after a long day working in the sun, bled from him completely and he felt whole.

So why, as he stared at the unconsious woman from the front seat of his truck, did he feel so…

Disappointed.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 15.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

(I know the gif isn't Troy in his room but it's all I could find that would be similar to him sat on his couch - work with me k)

You wouldn't describe the rest of the day as awkward, but there was a definate tension between you and Troy which neither was willing to acknowledge.

Aside from that it had been nice to do something that felt relatively normal. Simply wandering the ranch and speaking to people - as Troy whispered his opinions on them in your ear as you walked away - had made a nice change of pace from running from the dead, escaping the living and simply retreating into your bunk to hide from the world.

It was as you finished your meal in the food tent and you spotted Jeremiah eating at the opposite end to yourself and Troy that you asked if you could see his place.

Troy stilled for a few moments before nodding once. You assumed it was only because he knew his father wasn't in the house and couldn't kick you both out again that he agreed. You had a slight spring in your step as you walked back toward the main house and even though Troy was still tense at your side you saw the half-smiles he tried to hide as you linked your arm with his.

The main living area was familiar, although it didn't look as imposing in the daylight. Jeremiah's desk looked smaller, messier. You eyed the bookshelves and the pictures on the wall, breathing in the smell of wood and dust.

"Where's you room?" You ask as Troy seems to hesitate, his shoulders stooping a little as he also glances around the place he called home. You could feel a sort of fluttering in your chest and realised he was nervous.

"I'm not going to pounce on you, don't worry." You say teasingly.

Troy scowls slightly, but its the cute scowl that tells you he's not actually mad.

"I don't know, this could all be part of a ruse to steal my virtue." Troy says mockingly as you laugh. He grabs your hand and leads you upstairs.

The house is dark but still warmly inviting with the sun streaming in through the windows. You end up on the top floor and Troy opens a door and ushers you inside.

It's a large size for a bedroom, more like a studio really. There's the usual dresser and mirror with an old shirt tossed over it. A leather couch and matching chair sit at the foot of his bed. It was all very... brown. With reds, greens and oranges thrown in. It felt like Troy.

You took a deep breath and smiled. It smelt like him too.

"Cosy."

You say as Troy stands by the door, one hand still on the handle as if he's unsure if he should close it or not. You give him a small nod, realising he is waiting for permission to shut you both in. The door closes with a soft click and the tension that was in the air before immediately changes to something... else.

You take a small step further in, toward the bed, then you realise how it might look and change direction to the couch. You take a seat, perching on the edge and look around. The room is quite neat without looking like it hasn't been lived in.

"It's nice. Much nicer than my bunk."

Troy, who has stepped into the room to lean against his dresser, shifts a little uncomfortably.

"I didn't mean anything by that..." You add quickly. "I was just saying... you have a nice home."

Troy takes a look around, his brow furrowing as if taking everything in for the first time.

"I guess..." He says slowly.

You sigh and lean back into the couch. It's worn, a little lumpy, but comfortable enough.

"I'm trying to picture you growing up here. Was this always your room?"

Troy's arms are crossed over his chest and his feet are kicking at a folded section of the rug.

"As long as I can remember." He says flatly.

Your hands press along the cool leather fabric. There was something off about him, he was giving off the energy of an animal trapped in a cage.

"Hey," You say softly and raise a hand to beckon him over to you, "come sit with me."

Troy's eyes fix on your hand before he crosses the room in just a few short strides, placing hisnpalm in yours as you slide over to give him space to join you. When he sits he mimics your posture, head leaning back on the edge of the couch to take in the slowly turning fan on his ceiling with arms relaxed at his sides.

Except for the hands which are intertwined with each other.

The tension seems to ease a little and you smile at nothing in particular.

"I had a great day today." You say quietly.

Troy smirks, "You're very easily impressed then."

"And aren't you lucky." You tease back.

Troy, usually so quick-witted, takes a second to realise your implication. His foot nudges yours as if to reprimand you. You chuckle and nudge him back, slightly harder.

"I'm not playing footsies with you. We are sophisticated adults." Troy tells you firmly as you grin.

You jab him in the ribs with your elbow and laugh.

"Speak for yourself!"

His eyes slide to you, darkening with the promise of retribution.

"Oh? That how your gonna be?"

You raise your free hand in a mock surrender.

"Wait... okay I won't-"

Your own ribs come under a sudden ambush of that most devious and dreaded attack, the tickles. You shriek, trying to lean away and escape as Troy uses your joined hands to hold you where you are.

"Surrender! I surrender god damn it!"

Troy sits back, victorious.

"Dirty move." You glare.

Troy gives you a grin that makes your stomach flip.

"There's no reward for fair fighting if you're on the losing team." Troy tells you, and its something in his voice that makes you think of Jeremiah. It sounded exactly like something the man would say to his son.

You were about to try and bring his father up when a sudden knock on Troy's door has you both frozen for a moment until Troy pulls you up by the hand, gesturing for you to be quiet and pulls you to stand beside the door where you'd be hidden once it was open.

You scowl a little at having to hide like this but if it meant avoiding Jeremiah than you could live with it for now.

Troy opens the door and you're able to see the way his shoulders relax.

"Jake." He greets.

"I was hoping to speak to you for a moment. We've got a problem with some of the dead caught up in our fences."

Troy sighs.

"Get Coop to handle it."

"Coop's on watch. Dad asked for you to deal with it. It's your responsibility - his words, not mine." Jake added quickly at the end.

Behind the door you silently roll your eyes. Jeremiah would find any reason to keep you and Troy separate as much as he could.

"Fine. Just... give me a minute."

Jake speaks up again as Troy goes to shut the door.

"I can walk her back to the bunkhouse, if you'd like."

You go very still as Troy glares at his brother. You can hear the supressed laughter in Jake's voice.

"Come on, little brother. You're too old to be sneaking girls into your room."

You smile to yourself before popping your head under Troy's arm and around the door.

"Hi Jake!" You smile, always genuinely pleased to see him.

He smiles back at you and quirks an eyebrow at Troy.

"I'd say you've got less than ten minutes until Dad gets back. Maybe go round the back way... see you out front."

You wave goodbye as Troy huffs. Troy escorts you from his room and you feel disappointed to be leaving. It was comforting there. Troy does indeed take you out through the back way and around the side of the house where Jake is waiting with his hands in his pockets, trying not to grin at you.

"I'll be back as soon as I can." Troy tells you, and you get the feeling you're being handed over to Jake like a child.

"You know I can walk back to the bunk by myself. Or even around the ranch! I don't need an escort all the time."

Troy looks a little embarrassed.

"I know. I just wanted to make sure you're okay, especially after..."

"We didn't mean to offend you," Jake adds. "But I'd enjoy the walk with you and one last check up would put my mind at rest with how you're recovering."

"Fine." You agree, knowing it was just an excuse to put Troy's mind at ease.

As Troy heads toward the source of the problem Jake keeps a steady pace at your side and begins to speak.

"So, how are you feeling now?"

"Actually quite a bit better today," you say honestly. "It's nice to be normal for a while."

Jake nods understandingly.

"That's good. I was getting worried about you being stuck in that bunkhouse for days."

You smile thinly, remembering how comfortable Troy's room was compared to your living arrangements.

"You don't need to worry. I'm feeling much stronger."

Jake pauses for a few moments and even though you don't share a connection that links your feelings you can still tell from his face he is contemplating asking you something. You smile at him.

"You know you really need to work on your poker face."

Jake looks at you, confused.

"What's up Jake?" You ask, making it clear you could read him like a book.

Again he hesitates, running his hand over his head just like Troy tends to do when thinking.

"I was just wondering how things are going... between you and Troy."

You feel your heart skip a beat and a slight heat rise in your cheeks.

"Really? Why?"

Silently you're wondering if Troy had said something to him. Brother's talk like that, didn't they?

"I just know how... intense... it can be when you find your soulmate. I thought I'd check in, see if you needed anything."

You smile a bit more warmly and shake my head.

"I think things are going fine. Although..." You remember earlier, the way Troy had seemed to shut off from you somehow.

"Actually, I do have a question. About soulmates."

Jake waits, looking at you expectantly.

"Is it possible to... hide something. You know, from the bond. Feelings?"

Jake tilts his head as if unsure of what you mean.

"Do you mean like being able to feel each other's presence?"

You shake your head.

"No I mean... I could tell something was wrong with Troy earlier. Something he didn't want to talk about. I couldn't get a sense on how he felt."

Jake continues to look confused until his face softens.

"You know, my brother is a... complicated person. It can take a while to get used to his habits. He doesn't really open up much but just give him time."

You begin to feel frustrated, Jake clearly was missing the point. He places a hand on your shoulder and gives a comforting squeeze.

"You know people think being soulmates is easy. That you'll just connect and everything will be perfect. But it's hard. A relationship still takes time and effort. You'll learn to understand each other and soon you'll be able to read Troy the same way you read me!"

Something begins to settle in your stomach as Jake speaks and you begin to realise something. You smile and laugh a little, as if what you're about to say was just a funny joke.

"I know right... wouldn't it be great if soulmates could just... feel what the other was feeling all the time!"

Jake lets out a laugh.

"Oh yeah, that'd make things a lot easier!"

Your stomach drops but you keep the smile on your face as you reach your bunk and Jake bids you a good evening. Once inside you sit on the edge of your bed and begin to shake slightly.

It was clear that Jake had never experienced a shared emotion with his soulmate. Was this just an exception between them specifically? Perhaps influenced by her sickness and closeness to death?

Or... was the exception you and Troy. Your bond.

Was their something wrong with you.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 13.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You lay in your bunk staring into nothing. Cooper was stationed outside your door on Troy’s orders. Troy was…

You reached for him, trying to locate him on the ranch. You closed your eyes as your senses felt like they were stretching out into fog, blindly scrabbling for the warmth that usually came with your connection.

You could feel him, but he was somewhere beyond your usual reach. You scowled and opened your eyes. Perhaps he had left the ranch entirely.

You couldn’t help reliving those moments by his fathers desk. You had demanded Cooper take you to Jeremiah and although the man who was easily twice your size had initially refused you’d somehow managed to convince him. Perhaps it was out of some loyalty to Troy, or that he could simply see the desperation in your eyes and took pity on you, but you couldn’t stand by and let Troy take the blame for a mess you’d created.

You felt awful as you saw Mike limp away with Jake, but at least he wasn’t dead. Once you had calmed down you realised he must have seen you running from the tent and been trying to help, and you’d almost gotten him killed. Perhaps Jeremiah was right about you. You were just a burden to everyone on the ranch, including Troy, who had barely said a word to you once his father had dismissed you all from his sight.

You’d avoided looking at him when he’d taken you by the elbow and steered you through the door, down the steps and toward the bunkhouse. Thankfully the militia had dispersed those who had been drawn to the ruckus so you had no prying eyes upon you now. You’d glanced up at him as Troy signalled for Cooper to follow, unsettled by the empty expression on his face.

Your stomach dropped. His fingers around your arm became painful even though he held you gently. You dropped your eyes to the floor and remained silent as the bunkhouse came into sight.

“Cooper, I want you on watch until sunrise. Do not leave this spot, do you understand?”

Cooper stood tall, nodding as he replied with a firm, “Yes, sir.”

For a second you couldn’t breathe.

“Where are you going?” You managed to say.

Troy didn’t answer right away. In fact he didn’t even look at you. Cooper, who had a knack for pretending he had gone suddenly deaf and blind, tried to blend into the wood of the bunkhouse.

“I’ll be back tomorrow.”

You opened your mouth to speak again only to be met with a more forceful, “Tomorrow.” Before Troy turned and walked away.

You were frozen to the spot, staring after him as he disappeared into the dark. You heard Cooper clear his throat and the familiar creak of the door opening before you tore your eyes from where Troy had faded from sight and bolted inside, locking the door behind you.

You’d washed up, dumped your clothes on the floor and wrapped yourself in fresh clothes before crawling beneath your covers.

Cooper’s shadow at the door was a small comfort as you wondered what was happening now. What would they do with the body of the man you had murdered? What would they tell people?

And Jeremiah… his reaction had both surprised and confused you. You’d expected anger, for his declaration that he’d been right about letting you on the ranch being a mistake all along, but instead he’d actually reacted with what could almost have been… compassion? Oh, he’d offered no solace or comfort, but you’d seen his eyes change and his expression shift as you’d began to speak of your past with the burned man.

Your stomach clenched. Would they figure out that you were the one to cause his injuries? Or had the man already spoken of you when he’d been found in the wild?

Your thoughts wouldn’t allow you to sleep and you were still staring blankly at the wall when the sun began to rise. Outside you heard voices, Cooper was speaking to someone. You were on your feet in seconds and pulling back the bolt on the door, hoping it would be Troy making his return.

Your eyes fell on Jake and the disappointment on your face was obvious. He bid Cooper goodnight before asking if he could join you inside.

“It’s your property,” you said weakly, and stepped aside.

It was like deja vu when he closed the door behind him and took his usual seat at the table. He pulled back another chair and gestured for you to join him. You did, without comment. Dread was heavy in your heart and you only wanted to know where Troy had gone.

A terrifying thought crossed your mind. Had he sent Jake to tell you to leave?

The older brother must have seen the fear in your eyes as he leant back quickly, giving you your space.

“I’m not here to hurt you, or berate you for what happened,” he said quickly. “Troy asked me to relieve Cooper at sunrise. Since you’re awake it might be a good idea for us to talk.”

Your relief was short as anxiety made you tremble. You clenched your palms together tightly, feeling your nails digging into the skin.

“We need to understand what happened tonight. I know you spoke to my father, but we need the whole story…”

You almost couldn’t speak your mouth had gone so dry.

“Troy,” you said hoarsely, “I’ll tell Troy everything when he comes back.” He was the one you owed an explanation to. The one who, as your soulmate, would surely understand…

Jake looked at you, his expression soft and almost pitying.

“I remember what it was like, you know. The Pull. The way it consumes you entirely, makes you think you can’t breathe without your other at your side…”

You stared at the floor. Yes, there had been moments when the force that had led you here, to Troy, had stolen your ability to think straight with its intensity. But you’d assumed it was part of adjusting.

“Does it get… easier?” You asked.

Jake’s gaze shifted to the window, he looked lost in thought for a moment as a sad smile pulled at his lips.

“I wouldn’t know.”

You could have kicked yourself. Of course you knew what had happened to Jake’s soulmate. She had died mere months after they’d found each other. Jake had spent the entire time knowing he would lose her.

You couldn’t imagine knowing for certain that Troy would be taken from you. It felt like there would be nothing left inside you; you’d be a shell, a husk. Barely any better than the dead who wandered aimlessly.

Jake looked back to you, the sad smile gone.

“You can tell me, or write it down if that’s easier for you. But one way or another we need to understand… we need to know.”

You closed your eyes and took a deep breath.

As your story left your lips it was as if you were listening to someone else speak, retelling a movie they had seen or a story they’d heard on the news. You were blunt, factual. You’d been separated from your parents in the military camp, and when the bombs dropped and the fires spread they were trapped.

You didn’t tell him how you’d begged your parents to just try. To try and escape. To live. So scared they were of one dying without the other that they had chosen to stay together where they knew they’d die in each others arms.

They’d abandoned you.

No, Jake didn’t need to know that.

And so you explained how you’d walked aimlessly for days, avoiding the burned out areas and scavenging what you could to survive. You’d been at the edge of the city, unsure of where to go next when they had come upon you…

Jake listened to your story without a word. His expression was calm. Even when you’d gotten lost in the memory and been unable to stop yourself telling him how the father had held you down and told his son to “be a man”…

You could hear it in your ears as if he were standing beside you. You shivered before dropping to your knees, a wave of sickness overcoming you.

Jake was there at your side, his hands hovering but not touching. You breathed deeply as he began to count and you found his voice urging you to breath in time with him made the dizziness stop.

“Sorry… I haven’t eaten since yesterday morning…” you made the excuse.

“It’s okay. I know this is hard, but you’re safe.”

You looked up from where you were hunched on the floor, your fingertips digging into the wooden floor.

“Am I?”

Jake, the first truly kind face you’d seen for so long since this whole disaster began, carefully laid a hand on your shoulder and, when you didn’t flinch away, smiled.

“As safe as I can promise you can be in the apocalypse.”

You almost cracked a smile, especially when he continued.

“After all, as Troy’s soulmate you’re practically my sister now. I always wondered if having sister would have been… different.”

You sat back on your heels, feeling steadier but not ready to stand just yet.

“What do you mean?”

The carefully controlled expression was back and Jake shook off what he had just said.

He made himself more comfortable on the floor beside you and you knew it was back to the questions about your past.

“I need you to tell me honestly…”

Your heard skipped a beat.

“The man said he was attacked. His burns… you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

It was like a mask slipped over you, a shield between you and Jake who had just referred to you as his sister. You wanted to trust him. To believe his intentions were good, but the last time you’d put your trust in a stranger… it had led you to this.

“No,” you said.

Jake’s eyes changed, his brow knitting together as he watched you thoughtfully.

“No one would blame you.”

Really? You thought. You’d set two sleeping men on fire and run. Although you felt no guilt for it you knew it wasn’t the sort of thing normal people would have done… would they?

You could have just escaped. You could have stolen a gun and shot them as they slept… but you’d chosen to burn them.

To make them suffer.

Didn’t that make you a monster too?

“It must have happened after I escaped.”

Jake continued to watch you before nodding once. He seemed to believe you.

“Okay.”

“What about Mike?” You remembered suddenly, feeling a little guilty at having forgot the injured man.

“He confirmed what you said, and so did the other guard who should never have left you alone in the tent.” Jake said with a scowl. “He was running late to takeover watch when he saw you running. He went after you when you didn’t respond to his call and, well, I suppose it’s understandable Troy assumed what he did.”

You fidgeted with your fingers in your lap, sighing tiredly.

“I feel terrible. I’m so sorry. Will he be okay?”

Jake smiled.

“Troy could have killed him if you hadn’t stepped in. Instead, Mike just lost a pinky toe.”

You blinked before a snort of laughter escaped you. Jake did the same, looking baffled for a second at your reaction before chuckling quietly too.

“I’m sorry, that’s not funny.” You admonished yourself.

Jake shrugged, “It’s a little funny, the way he was wailing… I was scared he’d lose his foot until we got his boot off.”

This time you really did laugh. The feeling was strange, in fact you felt a little woozy, as if you were drunk. You put it down to exhaustion and hunger as your eyes began to water with a mixture of relief and amusement.

Jake let you have your moment as you wiped the moisture from your cheeks, your smile slipping as reality began to set in again.

“Will you tell people what happened to me?” You asked. You didn’t know if you could handle people’s pity. Or their judgement.

Jake shook his head.

“My father is a hard man but he understood what you told him last night. He won’t need the details. No one needs to know what happened. We’ll tell people… the man died of his injuries, he turned and you fled in a panic. With it being dark Troy thought Mike was one of the dead coming after you…”

You wrinkled your nose, unsure of the lie but grateful that Jake would cover for you.

“And Mike’s okay with that? He’s not mad at us?”

Jake shrugged.

“He’s in pretty deep shi- trouble for not being on time for guard duty. I think a little white lie will even things out.”

Jake continued when you looked unconvinced.

“He and Troy have been friends a long time. He’s seen some of the worst of my brother and still…”

Jake stopped, leaving you curious about what he meant. People had a lot of strange things to say, or not say, about your soulmate and you were beginning to think you weren’t the only one with secrets.

“Will you tell Troy?”

Jake didn’t need to ask what you meant. He scratched at his head, a habit you recognised from Troy when he was unsure, before speaking.

“I think maybe he’d be better hearing it from you. But of course if it helps, I’ll tell him whatever you need.”

You smiled, feeling genuine affection for Jake. Was this what having an older brother was supposed to feel like? Like someone really had your back.

“I don’t know about that. He seems… really mad.”

Jake’s eyes widened before he frowned.

“Troy? You think he’s mad at you?”

You nodded.

“Why wouldn’t he be? I’ve brought him nothing but trouble-“

Jake shook his head.

“Trust me. Troy isn’t mad at you.”

Jake was being annoyingly cryptic. Who else was there to blame?

You weren’t able to question him further as the door to the bunkhouse swung open and Troy suddenly appeared, standing still in a halo of soft light as the sun rose behind him.

He stared at you and Jake and you realised what an odd sight it must have been with both of you sat on the floor.

His brother lifted himself to his feet and drew himself up to his full height as he regarded Troy carefully. You’d have done the same if your legs didn’t feel like jelly beneath you.

“Brother.” Jake said oddly formally in greeting.

Troy gave a small nod of his head in return. Jake glanced back at you, where you still sat unable to take your eyes off Troy as you noticed he hadn’t yet looked directly at you.

“Perhaps we should talk first-“ Jake began before you cut him off.

“No,” you pulled yourself unsteadily to your feet. “I can do it. I can explain.”

Jake hesitated and you could tell he wasn’t sure if it was best to leave or not.

“It’s okay.” You said with as much of a reassuring smile as you could muster.

With one last look Jake nodded before passing his brother to exit the bunkhouse. His hand momentarily gripped Troy’s shoulder and gave a brief squeeze before he was gone, the door closing quietly behind him.

It was just you and Troy now.

In the silence you could hear your own heart beating, the sound of your own uneven breathing.

“I’m so sorry,” you began, forcing your voice to remain steady, “if you want me to leave, I’ll go. I’ll understand.”

Troy stared at you, his eyes managed to glow with intensity in the pale light of the sun.

“Go?” He finally croaked. “Why would I want you to go?”

You dropped your gaze and tried to keep yourself steady.

“Because of what I did. Because of what almost happened to Mike because of me.”

Your eyes shot up as footsteps moved toward you. For the briefest of moments you wanted to take a step back, to avoid the outstretched hand Troy had reached out to you with as if his touch might have harmed you in some way. You must have flinched, the sharp intake of breath seen by Troy as he stopped in front of you and slowly dropped his hand.

Your eyes were fixed to the floor. Your socked feet so close to his dusty boots.

“Look at me,” Troy said softly. It wasn’t a command but you were unable to resist the request regardless.

Your chest ached as your eyes met with his. His face looked tired, the curls of his hair were in need of taming as if he’d been running his hands through them all night. You noted the shadows beneath his eyes as guilt enveloped you.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Perhaps The Pull wasn’t always right. Whatever force joined two people together must be wrong sometimes. For you to be such a burden on your soulmate was unbearable. You’d always thought the love you’d seen between your parents was what was to be expected, they had brought each other both peace and happiness.

You’d brought neither to Troy.

Your frantic thoughts were interrupted when Troy placed two fingers gently beneath your chin and tilted your face upward.

“If you want to leave, I won’t stop you. If… if you want to go…”

You swallowed, the movement in your throat unmissable to Troy whose eyes followed your every breath.

You wanted to shake your head No, but the touch of his fingertips on your skin burned so pleasantly you couldn’t bare to risk losing the contact.

“I’ll understand,” Troy continued, “you were supposed to be safe here. I was supposed to keep you safe.”

You frowned as Troy dropped his hand from your chin and took a step back. Jake’s words came back to you, how it wasn’t you that Troy was angry with.

“You’re blaming yourself,” you breathed.

Troy could no longer look you in the eye.

“I should never have brought a stranger into our home. I should never have left you alone-“

“Stop it-“

Troy ran a hand over his head, pulling roughly at the dark curls between his fingers just as you’d guessed he’d been doing all night. You closed the space between you and reached up for his hand, untangling it from his hair as you gripped it tightly to stop him pulling away.

He looked at you now with a slightly wild expression on his face. You realised just how exhausted he was. You knew what that level of stress and tiredness could do, he wasn’t thinking straight.

“You helped someone in need. Just like you did with me-” you began before Troy cut you off.

“I’d been looking for you. Even though I didn’t understand why at first…”

You couldn’t help the small smile on your lips.

“You couldn’t have known who he was. It’s not as if I’ve been entirely honest with you about my past.” You admitted, trying to ignore the squirming in your gut and slight tremor in your voice.

Troy looked at you now with such intensity you almost forgot how to breath. “You can tell me anything. I… I’ve done things too. Things I had to do.”

You nodded in understanding. The world was now a dark place and although you hated to admit it, sometimes embracing that darkness was the only way to survive it. You remembered the choking sounds of the man whose throat Troy had watched you cut. He’d told you you’d looked beautiful, a statement most would find odd or frightening in such a situation. It hadn’t frightened you. It had made you feel like an avenging Angel in Troy’s eyes.

“I never meant to cause so much trouble.” You said honestly.

Troy shook his head as a smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth. “It’s about time someone else round here caused some.”

Your heart was no longer thundering in your chest, but it was beating hard as Troy’s fingers brushed over the back of your hand where he still held it tight.

You noticed as he began to sway ever so slightly, exhaustion finally overcoming him. There was still so much you wanted to say, to ask him, but perhaps right now was not the time.

Instead you took a steady breath and licked your suddenly very dry lips.

“Would you stay with me, here, to sleep?”

Troy blinked at you, glancing to the bunk you’d claimed as your own and back to you as if it were taking some time to process your request.

He had slept in the bunkhouse with you when you’d first arrived, but he had kept a respectful distance. There hadn’t been much physical contact between you yet, other than when you’d jumped into his arms when Mike had frightened you it had mostly been brief spells of holding hands when you walked outside the bunkhouse. And neither of you had minded, there was no need to rush things after everything you’d been through and Troy wasn’t exactly used to displays of affection. So when he nodded it was because his voice had suddenly failed him. The bunk was small, perhaps he was expected to sleep on one of the other empty ones…?

You made your intentions clear when you walked over to your bed and slid beneath the blanket before holding it open for him. Feeling dazed Troy kicked off his boots and placed his jacket over the nearest chair. He sat on the edge of the bunk before stretching out beside you.

He’d been right. The bunk was too small for two but you didn’t seem to care as your hand found his again and wound his fingers between yours.

The only sound for a few moments were those of your own breathing and the first songs of the birds from outside. As Troy’s eyes began to slide shut you spoke quietly as the morning sun began to fill the room.

“Troy?”

“Hm?”

“I don’t want to go anywhere without you.”

You didn’t see but the muscles in Troy’s face twitched as he almost smiled in his half-awake state.

“Then don’t.” He said just as quietly.

You did smile then, and for the first time since you’d set eyes upon your soulmate you felt a knowing in your heart and in your gut that The Pull had been right, because you were finally home.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 8.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

The shower in the bunk house was basic and the water luke-warm but to you it felt like heaven. Troy told you the water was limited so not to take all day, to which you’d rather naively asked if he was going to shower too.

You’d seen the redness of his skin spread down his neck and his exposed chest at the top of his shirt.

“I meant after-”

You’d said quickly, then realised you didn’t want him to get the wrong idea again.

“I just mean… I know we’re soulmates and everything but…”

Troy had managed an easy smile and bowed his head toward you in what you’d come to see as a reassuring motion, as if he were trying to make himself physically smaller - a difficult feat since he towered over you.

“I get it. I think it’s probably best we get used to being able to touch hands first before… anything else.”

You smiled shyly, hating the coyness you felt. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t had lovers. You weren’t some blushing virgin.

“You feel it too?” you asked.

Troy took in a long whistling breath through his teeth.

“You mean the way my whole body sets on fire when you touch me?”

You froze as heat coursed through you at the huskiness in his voice . Your heart began to beat as blood pumped dizzyingly fast into every part of your body. You forced yourself to breathe slowly.

Yeah, you knew exactly what he meant.

“Is that normal?” he asked, “I’ve lived on the ranch since I was a kid. Never really learned much about this stuff except for what Jake told me.”

You couldn’t think straight and searched wildly in your head for a change of subject, something to distract you from the way Troy’s eyes were boring into you.

“Is what your father said true? Did your brother’s soulmate die?”

Troy nodded solemnly before finally breaking your gaze, looking at his feet as he kicked at some dry leaves that had blown in.

“And I was an asshole about it too. I didn’t know… I didn’t understand what it felt like.”

“And… what does it feel like? For you?”

Again Troy’s eyes fixed on your face, his blue eyes darkening as he seemed to be looking right into you.

“Like nothing I could have imagined.” he told you. “You?”

Your smiled widened.

“The same.”

The smile on Troy’s face was more reserved, as if it were something he wasn’t quite used to doing in front of people.

“Okay then. I’ll uh, go find us something to eat. There must be leftovers from the canteen. I’ll find you something clean to wear too.”

Your stomach growled embarrassingly loudly and you heard Troy chuckle as he closed the door to the bunk house behind him.

You showered, basking in the warmth of the water and the smell of soup as wondered how many washes it would take for your hair to feel clean again. You ignored the way your skin felt tight over your hips and ribs, allowing you to feel the bones as you rinsed the soap from your body. Your eyes drifted over the cuts and bruises you’d collected as if they weren’t there, refusing to acknowledge the way they began to sting as you scrubbed at the filth away. The finger sized markings around your arms and the larger bruises on your thighs had begun to turn from red to a bluish purple. You knew soon they’d turn yellow and fade entirely, and you forced yourself to remember the ones who had put them there would never be able to do so again.

Between you and Troy, you’d made sure of that.

You wondered if you should feel something for what you had done. The shock and the adrenaline of the night had faded, so where was the guilt? The revulsion from having killed a person?

Not a person, you told yourself. Just another monster. Like the dead. Worse even.

You finished your shower, eager to get dressed again.

The towels left in the shower-room were stiff and scratchy but you wouldn’t complain. You called out for Troy, hoping he might be back with something to wear so you wouldn’t have to put on your filthy clothes again.

A voice answered, but it wasn’t Troy’s.

“Name’s Mike.” The voice said, and you felt your blood ran cold.

You were naked and alone in a room with no lock on the door… and a strange man standing on the other side.

“Where’s Troy?” You asked, trying not to sound panicked.

“He’s back?” The voice - Mike - said.

Your heart thundered as you felt a wave of nausea overtake you.

Don’t pass out, you told yourself. Whatever you do, don’t. pass. out.

You pulled the scratchy towel tighter around yourself with one hand and placed the other on the door. Logically you knew if he wanted to get in you wouldn’t be able to hold it closed against him. You weren’t particularly strong before the world ended and now whilst exhausted and malnourished you had even less hope.

“He’ll be back any second,” you told him, hoping the stranger would hear the warning in your voice.

“Good. I’ll wait then.”

The ice in your veins was steadily growing hot, turning into frustration. Was this person stupid? Or where they just messing with you?

You didn’t have time to find out since the heat in your veins became almost unbearable until a loud crash, the sound of wood breaking, made you gasp and jump back from the door.

It wasn’t the man trying to break in like your first instinct told you. No, you realised what it was when you heard Troy’s furious voice begin to shout.

“Mike! What the fuck are you doing in here?”

“Looking for you! Jesus what’s got up your ass?”

Your legs almost collapsed as you sagged against the door and willed your beating heart to slow.

“You can’t be in here.” Troy said bluntly. “Get out.”

There was a moment of silence before you heard the sound of springs. Mike must have been sat on one of the bunks.

You heard the sound of the door being closed with a bang, and then footsteps drawing closer. You stumbled toward the door and flung it open, almost missing Troy’s wide eyed expression as he dropped his hand from where it was about to knock as you threw yourself face first against his chest.

Your body trembled. From fear, relief… from everything that had happen over the last twenty-fours hours, hell the last few weeks of your life! You’d had to be so strong all by yourself for so long, with no one to trust or to rely on for help.

Troy seemed to hesitate at first, unsure of how to comfort you. He settled for lightly placing his palms on your back over the the towel and waited awkwardly for your response.

As you fisted your hands into his shirt you breathed deeply, smelling the dirt and the blood and sweat of the night before. For some reason this comforted you, allowed your racing pulse to ease as Troy started making small circles on your back. His chin had dropped so his lips were pressed against your damp hair as you realised he’d begun to whisper gently soothing words to you.

“I shouldn’t have left you alone.” He said a little once you’d managed to stop shaking.

You shook your head against him, not wanting him to blame himself for your fear.

“I felt it. Felt you…” Troy then added, his voice pained. You lifted your head then to face him.

His expression made your heart break. He looked so lost, so sorrowful, that you had needed him and he hadnt been there, again.

You shook your head once more, not sure how you knew these were his thoughts but they were as clear to you as if they were your own.

“You can’t blame yourself because I left. For what they almost did…” you told him gently, willing him to believe it too.

Troy stopped rubbing circles on your back but didn’t move in the slightest to let you go.

“It was my fault. If I had just explained… or stayed away that night…”

“You were there when I needed you. When it mattered. You came for me.”

Your words did little to ease his guilt but Troy tried to smile down at you.

“Sorry about Mike. He’s kind of never got personal boundaries but he’s harmless.”

You tried not to let your unease show.

“He’s your friend?”

Troy nodded. “Since we were kids, before I was taken out of school.”

You frowned, confused. Troy’s smile faltered.

“We can talk about all that after you’ve had something to eat and some rest. I want Jake to give you a check over too - I’ll stay, if you want me to.” He said quickly as he felt you stiffen in his arms. “And then, well, we’ll have plenty of time to get to know each other.”

You tried to let that sink in. Time. It was something that had felt like it was slipping away from you since the outbreak. How much time until you found a safe place? How much time until you lost it? How long had you been hungry, thirsty… how much time did you have left to survive?

Troy indicated the bag he had dropped on the floor by the door which you saw did indeed have a crack in it where he’d pushed it open so violently.

“I’ll wait outside while you dress.”

You wanted to say it was okay for him to stay, but you knew you weren’t ready for that yet.

How strange the intimacy you shared by being able to feel each others most powerful emotions, practically reading the others thoughts at a glance… and yet this was where you hesitated.

But Troy’s eyes told you he understood. That it was ok. That anything you needed would be okay with him.

He stepped outside and pulled the door shut. You could him standing with his back to the door as if on guard through the flimsy cover over the small window. You smiled to yourself.

You clumsily pulled on the clothes he’d left you, blushing when your hands opened the brand new packet of underwear. There were a few pairs of clean socks and two basic sports bras which fit well enough to be comfortable. You wondered if Troy had picked it all for you or if he’d asked one of the women on the ranch for help. You were too embarrassed to ask.

Finally you slid your aching legs into a pair of faded jeans, having to tighten the belt to make them fit your emaciated waist. The plain, light cotton t-shirt was a little baggy but you didn’t mind.

There were no new boots or shoes but you were sure Troy just hadn’t known your size. Once you were dressed you stood awkwardly in the empty room, your fingers tugging at your damp hair to work out the knots a hairbrush just wouldn’t get through. For some reason you suddenly felt self conscious about your appearance, which was ridiculous since Troy had seen you at your worst… although there was still a small voice in your head wondering if he’d be disappointed with his soulmate now you didn’t have the excuse of being half-dead in the wild for your ragged appearance.

Drawing in a deep breath you moved to open the door and let Troy back in. He turned his head to peer at you over his shoulder.

“Feeling better?” He asked.

You nodded, “I feel human again. I've missed soap so much… and clean socks.”

“Yeah they’re like fucking gold-dust now,” Troy said as he stepped inside.

Again you stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, unsure of what was supposed to happen next until you realised Troy still hadn’t a chance to clean up. Your stomach also growled loudly again and Troy frowned.

“Eat,” he said, grabbing the bag and taking it to the table in the corner of the room. He spread out the contents as you dropped into one of the wooden chairs. As your eyes fell upon the meal you felt dizzy at the thought of a real, freshly made meal. Or as fresh as leftovers could be. Right then it looked like a banquet fit for royalty. You glanced at Troy as he sat down beside you, waiting for him to take his share.

His frown deepened as you sat unmoving.

“Something wrong?”

Your voice was thin, tired. “Aren’t you going to eat too?”

Troy’s mouth quirked up on one side, an almost smile as he shook his head.

“You first. You’re practically all bones.”

You blushed as your earlier worries came back to mind, but troy’s smile was encouraging. You knew he wasn’t intentionally poking fun at you so without further hesitation you began to tuck in.

“Not too fast,” Troy told you as you swallowed your first mouthful embarrassingly loudly. You understood why when your stomach began to clench. It had been so long since you’d eaten a decent meal your body wasn’t used to it.

You ate what could, sipping at the water bottle between bites, and once you felt satiated you realised you could barely keep your eyes open.

Troy shook out the sheets of one of the bunks, flipping the mattress as somewhere in the back your mind you pictured spiders and all sorts of creepy critters that would usually make your skin crawl. Deeming the bed he made you suitable Troy offered you his hand, helping you walk over to the bunk until you practically collapsed onto the sheets. You were vaguely aware of a pillow being placed beneath your cheek and the covers being tightened over you.

Troy paused as your eyes fluttered.

“Do you want me to go?”

You barely had the strength to speak but you managed to mumble against the softness of the pillow.

“Don’t go.”

Sleep overcame you, pulling you under a shroud of darkness so fast you were only half sure Troy had heard you. But for the first night since the dead had started walking and life had been turned into a living nightmare, you gave into sleep knowing you’d be safe

Because Troy was with you.

[ftwdb]

Chapter 16.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut. Love triangle/polyamory… eventually.

You had paced the bunkhouse for so long that you were surprised you hadn't worn down the wood. Your nails were bitten down on one hand as you pondered over Jake’s revelation that it was not typical for soulmates to share emotions.

What were you supposed to do with this information? More importantly, did Troy already know?

Or was Jake mistaken? Perhaps that was just his own experience but the only way to find out would be to ask more people. And that could arouse suspicion…

You try and take your mind off things by tidying up the bunkhouse, and you’re in the middle of sweeping the dust out the front door when a sudden feeling hits you directly in the chest. It hits you hard enough to make you stagger on your feet for a few seconds.

You pause as panic overcomes you. You reach for your bond, for the pull… you find it empty.

“No!”

You're already out the door and running across the ranch when you see the trucks approaching in the distance. They're driving much faster than they usually would, which could only mean something was very, very wrong.

“Radio for Jake!”

You shout at the guard at the gate. He frowns at you but doesn't hesitate, also seeing the urgency in the way the trucks are driving along the road kicking up dust that floats into the air like smoke. Your eyes scan each of the drivers, looking for Troy as they pull into the gateway but he isn't behind any of the wheels.

Your eyes lock with Cooper as he jumps from the truck. Something is already behind hauled from the back and your heart drops when you see it’s Troy. Limp and pale with blood coating his face and neck.

“Is he bit?”

Are your first words as you chase after them rushing toward the medical tent. You see Cooper shake his head and you sigh with relief.

Jake is there and you don't even remember how or when he arrived. Getting Troy on the bed was a blur. Cooper pulling you out of the way as Jake checks him over was like a dream once Jake goes quiet and intently stares at Troy’s eyes as he flashes a small light in each one.

Your stomach churns. You know enough to realise what Jake is checking for, the responses he needs to know that the blood coating Troy’s head would not prevent him from waking up.

“… too slow…”

Jake mutters.

Your heart stops.

“But he’s responding, right?”

You say shakily. Jake nods but he doesn't look any happier about this than he did before the test.

You can't watch when Jake starts to examine the wound. You feel sick at the sight. You let Cooper lead you outside as he says something about getting air. You're in a daze and all you can do is keep tugging at the bond between you, urging Troy to tug back.

“What the hell happened?”

You say eventually, shaking as you look to Cooper for an explanation.

Cooper doesn't owe you anything, but he gives you a quick summary of events. They came across survivors. They were hostile. They engaged and Troy was injured by one of them who struck him from behind.

You shake your head slowly.

“And the survivors?”

“Took some out. Some escaped.”

Cooper says bluntly.

You clench your fists and your jaw sets when you speak again.

“And the one who hurt Troy?”

Cooper looks away, actually looking a little ashamed.

“… escaped.”

You feel rage. How? Why?

Before you could ask for more information you hear Jeremiah calling for Cooper. You keep your back turned. You don't have the patience for Troy’s father today.

Jeremiah demands an explanation as he leads Cooper back into the tent. You're left alone outside it and your knees buckle. You hit the grass hard and your fingers dig into the dirt.

This can't be it. Troy’s presence in her heart was like a gaping hole. Just empty and filled with cold, yearning darkness. You reach for him again but the lack of connection steals your breath away. That was when Cooper and Jeremiah burst from the tent and start running back toward the gate.

Without a second thought you follow, and neither man seems to care or notice. You can see the militia gathering at the outer edge of the ranch, taking up defensive positions you'd seen Troy scribbling notes about in his book.

You’re at Cooper’s side when you hear the words you already knew.

“They followed us.”

Jeremiah is shouting curses and yelling instructions. You see Mike limping toward the gate. He hadn’t been out with the others, but duty calls. He sees you and frowns.

“Get in the house.”

You scowl at him.

“Don’t tell me what to-”

Mike cuts you off.

“Troy would want you safe. Get in the house!”

You’re about to argue again when Jeremiah pipes up.

“You’ll do as you’re told. We don’t need civilians out here making things more complicated. So unless you’re gonna pick up a weapon missy, get outta the line o’ fire.”

You clench your fists and look to Cooper for support. Unfortunately he just shrugs and looks away with an apologetic look in his eyes.

“Fine!”

You huff. You run back to the main house, the closest shelter to the gate, and take the steps two at a time to Troy’s bedroom. You burst through the door and toward the window where you know you’ll be able to see everything.

Your fingers grip the window frame. You see a car approaching with a pole and a white rag handing from it. You feel a burst of anger.

So these people almost kill Troy and they dare approach his home seeking peace? You can see Jeremiah and Cooper taking the lead, stepping out to meet the vehicle whilst the militia keep their weapons pointed at the people inside.

You squint as you see someone step out, their hands are raised and you can make out a woman with shoulder length blonde hair. You can’t hear what’s being said, but Jeremiah is actually listening… and that makes you furious.

Your eyes are drawn to the opposite side of the car. Another set of raised hands, another figure emerging…

A man. Or a boy, he looks young. Messy hair down to his shoulders and even from here you can see the scowl on his features. Your heart beats hard.

Do something.

It tells you.

These people hurt Troy.

Do something!

Your fingers lose their grip on the window frame and your feet are carrying you back down the steps and outside faster than you can think. Your breathing is hard and your heart pounds. Your feet land on dirt and you run toward the gate.

You’re almost there, you can hear the woman’s voice but you can’t hear her words. But Jeremiah seems to be listening, and that infuriates you.

Do something!

Your heart screams again.

You’re almost at them when your glare switches from the woman to the boy. He is the first to see you, his narrowed eyes slide from the woman to you and they widen with surprise, with recognition. With shock.

It’s like someone has reached into your chest and torn your heart in two. You stop running and it takes all of your strength not to fall to your knees in the dirt.

The boy’s mouth opens. He goes to say something, his hand comes up as if reaching for you but you’re shaking your head and backing away with a hand pressed over your chest.

This… couldn’t be right. Be real. This feeling…

This sudden intense need to close the gap between you both and…

Jeremiah spots you and you hear him shout, but you’re already turning on your heel to flee. Because it couldn’t be right. This feeling in your chest… this… Pull.

Your feet carry you back to the medical tent where you burst through, frightening Jake who is sitting beside Troy, his head in his hands.

“He’s not…?”

You choke out as Jake meets your eyes.

“He woke. Briefly.”

Your legs almost collapse again.

Jake has a small, half-smile on his face. It’s still tinged with sadness and worry, but he doesn’t look like a man about to lose his brother.

“He said your name and lost consciousness again. But I think he’ll be okay, eventually.”

You let out a strangled sob of relief and your legs finally give way. Jake is with you immediately, pulling you up, setting you on the bed beside Troy.

“You’re still not fully recovered. The shock… you need to rest…” Jake is muttering.

You just nod and let him lay you down. You turn your head toward your soulmate and you reach out with your heart. A sense of warmth and happiness spreads through you when you finally find him, he’s there, as if at a distance even though you could reach out and touch him physically. But he is still in your heart.

But then you feel something else. A pulsing throb in your chest that makes you want to get off the bed and run back to the gate to give it some relief, to ease the pressure as it wills you to get off the bed and move.

Jake mistakes your sudden change in pallor and gently rubs your arm, uttering reassuring words that everything will be okay. But he doesn’t know. How could he? Nothing will ever be okay again… not when your heart is suddenly torn in half between two soulmates.

[ftwdb]

Warning: slight smut. Indirect referral to oral (male receiving).

Troy Otto knows people.

He knows how to watch them, and he knows what to watch them for.

But with you he spots something that fascinates him.

It's the way you always have something in your mouth. Gum, the end of a pen, a lock of your hair or even just your thumb rubbing absentmindedly across your bottom lip.

He smiles. He knows an oral fixation when he sees one. And that gives him all sorts of thoughts.

Thoughts about helping you satisfy that need, the desire to keep your lips busy and your mouth full.

He grins when you catch his eye with a pencil clenched between your teeth as you check off the inventory list. He thinks your confused frown is adorable. He wants to see those eyes look up at him, red and watery...

“Wha’?”

You ask, your tongue struggling to form the word around the pencil you don't bother to take from your mouth. His grin becomes a smirk.

“Nothin’… gum?”

He offers you.

You take it, bemused but grateful. Troy always has gum. It's a weird thing you'd noticed of late.

Troy walks away chuckling to himself as you pop the pencil behind your ear and slip the gum into your mouth. You shake your head and go about your duties.

“That guy is so weird…”

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 10.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You’d been sitting on the steps of the Otto house when the militia returned. Troy had been behind the wheel of the first truck and spotted you instantly as he came to a halt. His eyes never left your face as he stepped from the vehicle, barking orders at the men inside as he did so.

You stood, wiping your slightly sweaty hands on the cut off jeans you’d been given, glancing at where Mike was sat in the passenger seat of the truck avoiding your eyes (you had a feeling Troy had had a few choice words with him after the incident in the bunk’s shower) whilst another man you couldn’t remember the name of bundled someone out of the backseat.

You frowned as Troy reached you.

“You okay?” Troy asked, examining your face.

You nodded, forcing yourself to look at him and not at the strange sight at the truck.

“Of course. Sorry I didn’t want to worry you, I was just waiting for you get back.”

Troy hmm-ed in such a way that you knew he could tell there was something on your mind, but your decision to have a heart to heart was quickly being forgotten.

“Who is that?” You asked.

Troy glanced back over his shoulder as Mike and Blake led the stranger to the medical tent.

“Not sure yet. Maybe no one,” Troy said as he took your hand.

You weren’t sure what to make of his answer but as his fingers curled between yours you quickly felt your anxiety fading. The tension in your chest was also easing. It was a feeling like sinking into a hot bath at the end of a long, cold day. For a moment your entire being buzzed with the sense of relief at having your soulmate back with you.

Troy’s men filed by without a word. You realised it was odd for Troy to behave like this. Even though he’d been by your side at every moment he could when you’d returned to the ranch he hadn’t shown any kind of affection toward you in front of anyone else.

You’d tried not to overthink it and respected his need for space. It was still a big adjustment for you both, and a shock to everyone else as you’d came to understand.

You’d overheard people whispering sometimes, looking at Troy with an almost fearful expression. You assumed in his role as head of the militia he had to have a certain aura of authority to command respect and obedience. Perhaps that was why gestures like this weren’t in his nature, he couldn’t be soft when he had so many people relying on him for for protection.

Including you.

Guilt suddenly began to eat away at you. During your time at the ranch all you’d done was eat and hide away. Troy had followed your lead patiently, it was time to start giving something back as thanks for his understanding.

“I was waiting because I think it’s time I did something for this place. Contributed.”

Troy’s eyes widened slightly in surprise, but only for a moment.

“Did Jake say you're ready because-“

“I’m fine,” you tried to reassure him with a smile and a squeeze of his hand, “I promise to take it easy at first. But I can’t be the only freeloader in this place.”

Troy’s eyes flashed.

“Did someone say something? My father?”

You shook your head.

“Everyone has been great,” if a little intense, you thought. “I just want to feel like I belong here.”

“You do,” Troy said almost too forcefully, “you belong with me.”

Your smile this time was genuine.

Troy began to relax and you let him lead you toward the bunk house before deciding you didn’t want to spend the rest of the day closed away.

“Can’t I stay with you?” You asked.

Troy shook his head, “Not until I get more intel on our newest arrival.”

“You think he’s dangerous?”

Troy’s shoulders were tense, his loose grip on your hand a giveaway that he was trying too hard to appear relaxed.

“I don’t trust strangers,” was all he said.

You couldn’t help the quiet laugh as Troy shot you a quizzical look.

“I’d never have guessed,” you teased. Troy scowled as he thought about how you’d met, how cruel he must have seemed to have sent you running off into the wild where he could’ve lost you for good.

You gave a playful tug of his hand.

“It’s okay, you know. Everything turned out okay.”

Troy didn’t reply but his scowl eased.

“Just promise me you’ll stay in the bunk house until I’m sure you’ll be safe.”

Worry nagged at you. If Troy was really so concerned then why bring the stranger back to the ranch at all?

As you reached the familiar door Troy spun to face you, pulling from your grip as he placed both hands gently on your arms instead. His hold was loose enough that you didn’t feel threatened by him, even as he towered over you, but you could sense the tension radiating from him.

“Just a few hours and I’ll be back. I promise.”

“In time for dinner?” You said. “We could eat with the others tonight. Together?”

You could tell his smile was strained as he promised to walk you from your bunk to the canteen. Your cheeks warmed a little as you spoke quietly.

"Like a date?"

Troy paused, torn between amusement and his sense of duty as he knew his brother would be waiting with questions. And his father, no doubt. He had brought home two stragglers this week and it had not put him in good stead with Big Otto so far.

"Like a date. Although I hope you don't expect flowers," Troy shot at you as he opened your door and ushered you inside.

You pretended to be disappointed as you said your goodbyes. Troy waited until you had closed your door and he heard the bolt slide shut before hastily making his way across the campsite. You watched him leave from the window, genuinely disappointed to see him go already but feeling happier at the thought of sharing a real meal with him that night. Perhaps even getting to know some of the militia a little better, since they were who Troy spent most of his time with. You could figure out the best way to contribute to the ranch once you'd sized everyone up and knew who would be the most tolerable to spend your days with.

Heading toward the shower room you decided to clean up as best you could before dinner, even picking out the cleanest clothes you had. They were nothing special, a pair of worn jeans that weren't stained and a light blue shirt made of soft cotton. You peered at yourself in the small mirror, already seeing how much better you were beginning to look after several days rest and proper food.

For the first time in weeks you allowed yourself to feel a small spark of happiness as you picked up your brush and began working it through your hair. Perhaps it was time to start believing in this place, in Troy... in a future.

XXX

He could hear raised voices before he'd even reached the medical tent. Troy braced himself as he swept aside the fabric that made up the entrance and set his jaw as his father's gaze fell to him.

"What in the holy hell were you thinking boy?" Jeremiah sneered at him.

Jake tried to sidestep his father, to put himself between him and his little brother as he had when they were children. But they were no longer children and Troy would not accept his brother treating him as such anymore.

"I was thinking he was already close to the ranch. He'd have come across us eventually." Troy said flatly, "Better to bring him in on our terms then have him sneak inside or turn out there."

Jeremiah scoffed, "Cooper already briefed me about your scouting mission today. One sickly man or lone undead is hardly a threat to us."

Troy hid his clenched fists behind his back. Of course the only person with higher rank when it came to the militia's intel was his father, he couldn't blame Cooper for telling Jeremiah what they had come across in the wastes if Jeremiah had asked, even if having him disobey his instructions did piss him off royally.

"I made a call," Troy shrugged. "You want him gone? I can take care of him now."

Jake began to dismiss Troy's words, insisting it wasn't necessary, whilst Troy and his father stared at each other. If Otto ordered him to shoot the man dead where he lay, cuffed and unconscious on his bed - the same bed you had lain in - Troy would do it.

His father sighed.

"It's a waste of resources. The man's on death's door."

Troy nodded, an unspoken understanding passing between the two. His clenched fist moved to the gun ever present at his side.

"You can't be serious?" Jake said, mouth agape as he watched his brother flick the safety off his weapon.

"Father's orders," Troy said, hearing his own voice as if from far away.

"This is... this is murder. The man isn't bit. He could live if we helped him!"

"And if he doesn't? What if we waste our medicine on a stranger, on one of the unprepared, what then Jake?" Jeremiah said almost tiredly.

Jake shook his head.

"We have plenty of medicine-"

"For now. We don't know what's going to happen, how long we will need to survive. We should prioritise our own."

Your name was on Troy's lips as he stopped himself asking why his father had allowed you to stay but not this man. You'd both been at death's door. Troy knew how his father felt about soulmates, a sentiment Troy had shared before meeting you and having everything his father had ever told him about the phenomena turned upside down. Had Jeremiah let you stay for him? It wasn't in his heart to show such kindness, or leniency.

It was a puzzle he was still pondering on.

His father seemed to know exactly what thoughts were plaguing his youngest son.

"Don't think I've forgotten about our other newest member just because she hides away in the bunkhouse all day."

"She' recovering-" Jake interjected before his father's raised hand silenced him.

"She's freeloading-"

"She's ready to work," Troy said louder than intended, a spark in his chest threatening to ignite at the way his father spoke of you. "She said so herself before I came here. She wants to earn her place."

Jeremiah's brows nearly disappeared beneath his hat.

"Is that so?"

Troy nodded as Jake looked exasperatedly between the two men.

"Then she can help me, here in the medical tent. I'll train her, we need more people with medical knowledge."

Troy found the suggestion agreeable. If he had to leave you with anyone his brother was a good choice. He knew Jake would watch over you when he couldn't.

"She can help me treat this man," Jake continued, "It's not a waste of resources if we're using him for training."

Jeremiah waved his hands in the air as if washing the pair of his sons from them. Troy could see the twitching of his fingers that said his father was missing the feel of a bottle between them. He tried not to smile at his brother's quick thinking.

"He's got until sundown tomorrow to show some sign of improving. If not, Troy will take care of him."

With that Jeremiah pushed past his children and exited the tent, leaving the brother's to stare at each in silence. Jake looked tiredly at the gun still in Troy's hand.

"You don't have to follow every order you know," he said almost bitterly.

Troy didn't respond. How easy it was for his big brother to judge him. They'd both suffered as children at their father's hands but Jake had always been the golden child. It was Troy who'd usually be the target of his father and mother's ire, no matter how hard he tried to please them.

He turned to leave as Jake called after him to send you to the tent in the morning. Troy would walk you before meeting with the militia to organise the next scouting mission at the border. He'd feel better knowing you'd be with Jake and not alone in the bunkhouse until he returned.

He ran a hand through his unkempt hair, feeling the knots mingled with dried blood. He still had time to clean up before dinner and turned to walk toward the main house. It was as his eyes fell on the set of steps you'd been sitting on when he'd returned earlier that he remembered the look on your face moments before your eyes had met his. You'd look deep in thought, as if preparing yourself for something and it had left a sense of dread in his gut as he'd stepped from the truck.

Troy was good at reading people. A skill he'd developed as a child to know where and when the next danger would come from. A blow to the face from his father in a drunken rage or words that cut as sharp as any knife from his mother as she ran out of drink and was forced to go through the tremors and sickness caused by the sobriety she rarely allowed herself to fall into.

He'd been too distracted by the dying man to question you further about your unusual venture from the bunkhouse, but he would be sure to get to the truth after he took some time to shower and rest.

[ftwdb]

Mood Board for my Soulmate AU Troy Otto x Reader fic, find it pinned to the top of my blog!

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 14.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You were never very good at getting people gifts. What made it even harder was to get someone a gift during an uprising of the dead when you had also accidentally got them shot in the foot.

Troy walked beside you with his arm slung lazily over your shoulder as you neared Mike’s caravan. He was smirking and trying not to laugh out loud as you listed off ideas of how to make up for his lost toe.

“I don’t know why you’re worrying so much, I was the one who shot him.”

You rolled your eyes, refusing to be drawn into another argument over who bore the most responsiblity for the events that occurred a few days ago.

“Isn’t he your best friend? I just want him to like me-“

“He will like you.” Troy said confidently.

“How can you know that?” I frowned, unconvinced.

Troy gazed down at you with a lop-sided grin as you scowled.

“Because I like you.” He teased, pulling you closer to his side.

Since the night spent in your bunk Troy had become more outwardly affectionate toward you, not caring who saw the way you held his hand or how his arm would wind possessively around your waist. You had blushed at breakfast that morning when Gretchen had raised her eyebrows at the sight before winking at you across the canteen.

You mostly ignored the curious eyes and whispers from the others. Your growing relationship with your soulmate meant far more to you than gossip from a group of strangers. And if Troy didn’t care what people thought than neither did you.

Except, of course, for the people that mattered most in his life. You may have formed a sibling like attachment to Jake and Cooper always gave you a friendly nod whenever you made eye-contact but you still had Jeremiah and Mike to win over.

Troy didn’t understand your need to be liked, to be welcomed by those who were family by both blood and bond, but he indulged your desire to try with some amusement.

You reached the caravan where Mike and his family were staying, a large canopy was set up beside it giving them far more space than any other rancher. You supposed it was a perk of being a Trimbol and one of the founding fathers, or so Troy had explained.

He’d pointed out the Brown’s home further in the distance and explained that Russell lived with his wife whilst Phil McCarthy was more of a loner who remained at an outpost away from the ranch. You’d made a mental note to introduce yourself to the couple, apparently Mrs Brown loved to gossip so Troy had conveniently remembered some other duty he had to attend to whenever you suggested an appropriate time to visit.

Troy knocked none too gently on the caravan door, his arm still wrapped around you as it swung open to reveal Mrs Trimbol’s sour expression. You hesitated, not having expected to have to face Mike’s mother.

“Your son around?” Troy asked easily, “or has he run off somewhere?”

You tried to discreetly elbow him in the ribs as Mrs Trimbol’s mouth tightened into a thin line. She seemed to be avoiding looking at you.

“Troy,” she said tightly as a way of welcome, “he’s inside. Recovering.”

Troy rolled his eyes but the cocky grin never left his face.

You stood a little sheepishly, your feet fidgeting in the grass as you dropped your gaze. Troy must have sensed your discomfort, either through the connection you shared or your sudden tension. You felt something spike in your chest, a feeling that wasn’t your own. Annoyance? At Mike or at your less than warm welcome, you weren’t sure. These shared emotions between you were becoming more regular as you grew closer but were still confusing.

“We just came to wish him well, Mrs T.” Troy drawled. “But if Mike is too busy being a puss-“

“Alright, I’m here!”

Mike appeared over his mother’s shoulder, gently prying her from her defensive stance in the doorway as he hobbled from the steps leading inside and landed on the grass with a wince. He closed the door behind him before his mother could speak and eyed Troy with a wary eye.

“You’re lucky she thought you were a cute kid. If Gretch or I spoke to her like that she’d knock our heads off.”

Troy shrugged and snorted. “What do you mean were? I’m still cute.”

It was your turn to roll your eyes. Troy had his moments but cute wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for him. The words you would use brought a slight blush to your cheeks which neither man noticed, thankfully.

You couldn’t help but notice how at ease Troy seemed around Mike compared to Jake. He seemed more relaxed, his smile genuine if teasing. You tucked the observation away for another time to consider.

“Mike,” you finally spoke, “I wanted to say how sorry I am for what happened. I… wasn’t myself. I didn’t know it was you chasing after me.”

Troy interjected before Mike could respond.

“I’ve already told her you’re good with what happened, but she insisted on apologising in person.”

Mike, without the gaze of his mother upon him, also seemed more relaxed even if you could tell he was struggling to stand at his full height without putting weight on his injured foot. It was as if he didn’t want to show weakness in front of Troy, which made sense you supposed. He was technically his superior within the militia.

Also you were sure there was some male pride involved in the whole interaction.

Mike ducked his head and offered a lazy smile. His hair was shaggy and his beard well overdue some maintenance.

“You know, I can help you with that.” You said gesturing to his hair as a sudden idea came to mind.

“You some kind of stylist, before?”

You shrugged, “Sort of, for a while.”

Pre-apocalypse you’d been a student working part time jobs to earn some money as you figured out what path you wanted to follow in life. You’d spent some time learning to cut and style hair before moving on to your next job whilst you procrastinated on choosing which subject you would commit to studying.

When you’d asked Troy about his school life he’d gone quiet before changing the subject. Perhaps getting to know Mike might help you learn a little more about Troy.

“I can’t make you look any worse. And I promise not to drop the scissors on your other toe.”

Both men laughed and the sound helped put you at ease.

“You know what, sure. It’s either you or my mother and if she had it her way she’d leave me as bald as Coop.”

You said your goodbyes and you walked away from the camp site with a spring in your step. Troy nudged you, giving you a sideways glance that clearly said told you without him have to speak.

“Do you feel better now?” He smiled.

“You know I do.” You smiled back.

And you did. Was this finally it? The lightness in your heart, was this the way you were supposed to feel with your soulmate? It felt good.

It was hard to think that you’d almost thought Troy would turn his back on you. You felt guilty, having doubted him. Especially since Troy had taken care of everything before he’d come back to you in the bunk, moving the body of the man you had… who had died… far from the ranch.

“What did you do with… it?” You asked the next day, unable to bring yourself to say the word “he”, to acknowledge the monster who had hurt you as human.

Troy had said nothing for a few moments as if weighing up whether to tell you the truth or not. You supposed you didn’t really care as long as you’d never have to set eyes upon that burned face again.

“Finished the job someone started on him.” Troy said eventually. “There wasn’t much left in the end.”

Finish the job? It took you a moment to realise…

“You burned…?”

No burial. No, people buried people. Not monsters.

You’d felt a tug in your chest and looked up to meet Troy’s eyes. He was watching you closely with that expression you hadn’t quite figured out how to read yet. You felt within you to the bond you shared but whatever he was feeling wasn’t strong enough for you to read at that moment.

“Something wrong?” He asked.

You had shaken your head, trying to keep your expression calm as you inwardly fought off the memories of hands all over your body, the smell of alcohol and fire and burning skin…

Troy stepped closer.

“Because you’re shaking,” he had told you.

You raised your hands slightly and realised he was right. Your body had begun to tremble, how had you not noticed?

Carefully, as if waiting for you to give him permission, Troy began to wrap an arm around you and pull you against his chest. You couldn’t help the way you collapsed against him. You felt as if you would cry at any moment but no tears would come.

His embrace grew steady and firm, but not tight enough that you felt trapped against him. He would have offered you comfort if there had been any to give.

“You can tell me, you know. Anything.”

You closed your eyes and listened to his steady heartbeat beneath your ear. Troy didn’t need you describe the horrors you’d been put through. Between everything that had been said already he could figure out the men he’d saved you from before were not the first to try and harm you.

“It was me,” you’d said quietly, almost hoping it had been too quiet for him to hear. “I burned him. Him and his father, while they slept…”

The words kept coming and Troy merely waited patiently as you confessed to your own monstrous act.

“I wanted them to feel it. All the pain and fear they inflicted on me.”

Troy made a sound low in his throat. You’d waited for him to recoil from you or begin asking questions, he simply held you until your trembling stopped and your breathing slowed back to a normal pace.

“Do you think I’m a terrible person?” You had whispered against his chest.

Troy did move away this time, but it had only been to look you in the eye.

“Never.”

You tried to believe him. You remembered his words before. How he understood having to do things that were necessary…

If only he could have found the words to tell you that what you’d done was a mercy compared to what he would do given the chance to get his hands on those men now. But you had taken justice into your own hands and he could only admire you for it.

Troy had been so afraid when he’d found you. Afraid you would die. Afraid you would leave. Afraid you would see him for who he really was and be just as revolted by him as everyone else in his life. His father turned a blind eye, his brother made excuses and his “friends” were either too scared to say anything or just relieved to have someone else willing to do the dirty work so they wouldn’t have to that they pretended not to see the darkest parts of him.

His mother had never hidden what she thought of him though. She could see the rot that had taken root in him as a child, she’d told him daily before she died how she wished she were strong enough to take him with her. She couldn’t leave Troy to be a burden on the world.

And then the world had changed, and Troy was no longer a burden or a thing to be frightened and ashamed of. Troy understood the world now.

And you, when he’d seen you wield that knife over Derek’s bloody throat he’d known everything he’d been through had been to lead him to you.

A mere few days had changed so much, but as Troy led you through the ranch he could finally believe that in his soulmate he had found the only person who could understand and accept him.

You allowed yourself to be led by Troy as he finally gave you a much overdue tour of the entire ranch. You scratched the heads of the cows and horses as they wandered the fields, were shown the fields they grew crops and Troy explained how they gathered power for electricity in the house. You didn’t walk all the way to Jake’s place, but Troy pointed it out and you waved to a distant figure who was sat atop the roof whom you assumed was his brother. He tolerated a whole thirty minutes talking to the Brown’s until they’d started talking wistfully about their wedding day - which apparently had taken place not long after The Pull had drawn them together.

Troy made and excuse for you to leave as soon as you were given pointed looks when Mrs Brown offered to show you her wedding dress.

You laughed as you walked the hill back to the main campsite as Troy looked horrified.

“I could be offended you know!” You mocked as he shot you a sideways look. “Perhaps I’ve always dreamed of being a bride!”

Troy groaned, “I’ve never seen the point to be honest. My father married twice and was just twice as miserable.”

You quietened at the mention of Jeremiah. You hadn’t seen nor heard from him since the night of, well, the incident.

Troy hadn’t brought him up either and you wondered if that was a good sign, or him simply avoiding a difficult conversation.

Your sudden shift in mood didn’t go unnoticed and Troy reached for your hand, pulling you against him.

“Hey I didn’t mean anything by that.”

You shook off the worry on your features and smiled, “I know. I was thinking about… it doesn’t matter.”

Troy squeezed at your hand gently.

“If it’s on your mind if matters.”

I took a deep breath.

“I was thinking about… your dad.”

A series of expressions crossed Troy’s face, from confusion to disgust.

You slapped playfully at his chest before your own expression grew more serious.

“I just meant I’m surprised he hasn’t had more to say about everything that’s happened. Have you spoken to him since…?”

Troy’s nod was slow and deliberate, as if buying some time before he’d have to answer any more questions. Your stomach drops.

“Not good, is it?”

Troy sighed.

“My old man’s a pain in the ass. You shouldn’t be worrying about him.”

How could you not? Jeremiah was head of the ranch and although the place wasn’t run like a dictatorship you knew he held a lot of influence over people.

“I don’t understand why he hates me.” You say flatly. When Troy remained silent you send him a sideways glance before speaking again. “That was very reassuring, thank you Troy.”

Blue eyes snap to yours and Troy frowns.

“What?”

You get caught between a sigh and a chuckle as Troy’s shoulders stiffen.

“Relax, I was just messing with you. Look we don’t have to talk about your dad, not today. Let’s just enjoy ourselves.”

You try to coax Troy out of his mood for a little longer but it’s clear there is something on his mind. Something he isn’t ready to share. You feel within you to the connection keeping you bound and find what feels like a wall…

You try to keep my worried expression off my face, but of course Troy can sense how you are feeling and he nudges you softly with his elbow.

"Hey, don't overthink it. You're here with me now. I'm not letting anything change that."

You try to smile and swallow down your concern. However Troy learning to keep a wall up between you was something that certainly caused you more worry.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 9.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

“How did you survive all alone?”

“Have you killed any dead?”

“Did you have to kill any people?”

“What happened to your family?”

“Were you in the city when in burned?”

The questions came thick and fast. Apparently you weren’t the first newcomer to the ranch, but you were the first survivor. Others had arrived in groups and with their families. The ranch had been set up as a haven in the event of the collapse of civilisation, so of course when the dead rose everyone who had invested or who knew about the ranch and had something to offer - supplies, knowledge or even just the ability to work the land - made their way to the Otto’s.

That made you a curiosity to the ranchers. A source of information about the outside world.

Unfortunately it was also why you found yourself curled up in your bunk with the covers pulled over your head.

The day after your arrival Jeremiah had demanded Troy continue with his duties as head of the militia, and without the youngest of the Otto’s there to glare at anyone who dare quiz you, you found yourself hiding away as much as possible.

It had been only a few days and you were still in recovery. Jake had convinced his father to give you time to rest before being assigned a job and was monitoring you daily.

You knew the sound of his fist against the bunkhouse door and reluctantly pushed the covers aside to cross the room and pulled back the bolt.

Jake smiled warmly and you couldn’t help but return the gesture as you stood aside to let him in. He ran through the usual tests, asked a few questions about how you were feeling and what you’d been eating before declaring he was happy with your progress.

“Were you studying medicine before?” You asked.

Jake shook his head, “No. But I’m a fast learner and we had a good doctor on the ranch.”

“Had?”

Jake’s expression grew solemn and you noticed in that moment the similarities between him and his brother.

“There was an elderly lady who passed, natural causes, and as our doctor was trying to resuscitate her she… came back.”

You grimaced at the thought.

“It was how we learnt you didn’t need to be bitten to turn. The doc survived the attack and kept a record of his deterioration. Troy helped.”

You noticed the change in his voice when Jake mentioned his brother. There was something almost bitter in the way Jake spoke. You wondered if there was some sort of jealousy between them, a brotherly rivalry perhaps?

You thought back to meeting their father. Yes, you could certainly see Jeremiah Otto as the type to fan the fires of competitiveness between his sons.

“I can continue advising my father that you need a few more days rest, but he’ll insist on putting you to work soon.” Jake continued.

You nodded. As much as you preferred an excuse to avoid the hustle and bustle of the ranch you were starting to grow bored in your free time. Having something to focus on while Troy wasn’t with you would at least give you a distraction from the unpleasant ache it left in your chest.

“I want to earn my place,” you told him earnestly.

Jake smiled as he stood to leave. His presence was one of few that put you at ease, but when his expression faltered you instantly felt yourself tense.

“I’ve been meaning to ask…” he started hesitantly, “Troy told me about what happened to you. Those men-“

You couldn’t help the sharp intake of breath as a flash of memory flickered through your mind. You gripped the edge of the bunk, but said nothing.

“One of our members here used to work as a therapist, before she retired. I can ask her to come see you if-“

“No.” You said sharply before feeling slightly guilty about your tone as Jake nodded.

“The offer is always open. You don’t need to hide away here, this is a safe place.”

You tried to smile but the muscles in your face felt stiff and heavy. You avoided Jake’s eyes as you said something about being fine. That you’d just needed to rest.

Once he had left and you’d bolted the door behind him you allowed your limbs to begin to shake as you slid down the door. Your breath came in short gasps and your eyes stung as you willed the memory of a heavy body pushing on top of you away…

You hadn’t even told Troy that what those men had done was nothing compared to before. You just couldn't find the words.

But if Troy had told Jake… was it out of concern? You thought you’d been doing okay, trying to fit in, to be normal in a world that had gone crazy over night.

Had Troy also told him what you’d done to the man who had tried to rape you?

The memory of the knife in your hand and the smell of blood made you gag.

It was a conversation you had avoided so far, that night when Troy had come after you.

But perhaps it was time for you and Troy to stop tiptoeing around each other with niceties and formalities and finally, really talk.

XXX

Troy examined the blood on his knife with interest. He’d been trying to keep a record of the coagulation process in the un-dead. So far he’d noted the blood still rotted, clumping together in clots that smelled foul, but not at the same rate as the dead who had been put down permanently. Destruction of the brain seemed to trigger the proper state of decay. He wished he could study it better, in a controlled environment.

A voice broke through the fog of his thoughts as Mike came into view. Troy flicked the grim fluid onto the grass and sheathed his blade.

“What?”

“Said that’s one of the largest herds we’ve seen so far. What do you think?”

Troy inclined his head in agreement. As interesting as he found watching the behaviour of the dead he didn’t like how close they were to the ranch. In his head he pictured the fences being surrounded, the moans of the dead echoing around them. He pictured your face, terrified and betrayed that the home he’d promised would keep you safe became a hunting ground for the dead.

“We step up patrols, try and figure out what direction they’re coming from.”

“Start with the border?” Cooper suggested as he fell inline beside his superior.

“We’ll take a team,” Troy agreed, catching Mike’s expression shift as he ordered his men to clean themselves up before heading back to the ranch. They’d returned once before covered in blood and gore, much to the shock of the ranchers. Troy decided it wasn’t worth the panic it caused to see them in such a state and made each militia member swear an oath to tell no one of what they came across in their patrols without his permission. Scared people were often stupid, especially in groups.

He waited until Mike was alone before he caught his attention.

“You got a problem, Mike?”

His friend eyed him warily. There was a bond between them that went back into their childhood. As sons of the founding fathers they had an allegiance like none of the other militia members. And Mike, for all his faults, had always stood by Troy. But that didn’t mean Troy would let insubordination slip.

“Sure don’t,” Mike replied with faux cheerfulness.

Troy cocked his head to one side as he always did when sizing someone up. Mike avoided his gaze as he wiped the blood from his hands and face and Troy knew he only had to wait for the real answer to come. Mike was a loudmouth, he couldn’t stop himself from talking sometimes.

“It’s just-”

There we go, thought Troy.

“-the border? I thought your dad didn’t want us heading too far that way? It’s dangerous.”

Troy spread his boots in the dirt as his hands rested on his hips. Cowardice was one of the faults in Mike he’d had to overlook over the years.

“You’re right. Big Otto gave me orders, but you follow mine. I say the danger is getting too close to home. You do want to protect it, right,”

“Of course I do!” Mike protested.

“So we take care of it before it becomes a problem. Cut out the infection at the source instead of just treating the symptoms,” Troy gestured at the dead littered about them.

Mike made a noise that sounded like reluctant agreement. Honestly, Troy wondered why he had even joined the militia. He wasn’t a fighter, not at heart. He supposed everyone needed a place though, and Mike had always felt the need to prove himself to everyone. Perhaps it was the burden of being Vernon Trimbol's only son.

“Hey Troy, we got a straggler!” called Cooper.

Troy followed his gaze and spotted a figure limping toward them. He frowned. The movement, although clumsy, was too quick and precise to be one of the dead.

“I want eyes on them, now,” Troy snapped. Immediately his men raised their weapons.

Cooper was peering through his binoculars, muttering to himself as Troy strode over to his side with Mike close behind.

“We got a live one?”

“Two in one week. Maybe it’s another soulma-“

Troy snatched the binoculars from Cooper, almost strangling him in the process and shooting him daggers as his words were choked off. He felt Mike watching him but chose to ignore both the men as he got a closer look at the newcomer.

Troy hadn’t spoken at length with anyone about the appearance of his soulmate. Of course rumours spread, idle gossip that Troy would not entertain. His business was no one else’s, not even Mike’s.

“Looks like a male. Young. Can’t see much from more here though.”

“Wanna send out a welcome wagon?” Mike said coldly.

Troy dropped the binoculars and walked back to his truck. “Coop, stay here and keep watch. Mike, Blake, with me.”

It took only minutes to reach the stranger, who dropped to their knees in relief as the truck came to a dusty stop. Troy, Blake and Mike approached cautiously, guns raised as the man lifted shaking arms into the air.

“Don’t shoot,” he croaked.

Troy took in the filthy clothes, the bloody rags wrapped around the side of the man’s face which obscured most of his features.

“You bit?” He asked.

The man shook his head.

“Blake. Double-check.”

Blake roughly pulled away the man’s backpack and stripped him of most of his clothes before they were content that they were being told the truth. Meanwhile the stranger was trying to speak, babbling incoherently. Troy could see why. He wasn't just exhausted and victim of the elements, one side of his body looked sore and blistered, like he'd been burned.

“What happened to you? You get caught in the bombings?”

With shaking hands the man pressed his fingers to the rags. His one exposed eye darkened.

“I was attacked. In my sleep. I think I’m blind…”

Troy ran his tongue over the inside of his cheek as he always did when he was thinking. The man looked on death's door but bringing in like-minded people, fellow survivors, could only make them stronger. Was this man one of those people? He must have been strong to have survived in such a state.

“Blake, cuff him and bag him. We’ll have Jake look him over back home.”

The man gave a dry sob and thanked them even as he was blind-folded and bundled into the truck. Troy, annoyed at the sound of his pathetic voice, turned up the volume on the truck's music player.

Blake sat in the back with a knife in his fist, the other bundled in the back of the man’s shirt. Mike was frowning.

It was then Troy felt something in his chest. A familiar tug that told him he’d been gone from home too long. Your face swam before his eyes before he blinked it away and he couldn’t stop the edges of his mouth quirking upward as he felt a rush of eagerness to return home.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 11.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

You were still waiting in the bunkhouse after the sun had set. You knew dinner would have been served by now, peering through your window you could see the shapes of the ranchers moving about and getting ready to wind down for the day.

You paced. Unlocked the door and then locked it again. Gave it one more moment of thought then slid the bolt open and stepped outside.

The night air was cool, refreshingly so, but you wished you'd thought to pull on an extra layer. For a moment you looked around, expecting to see Troy coming toward you at any moment. You were left disappointed.

As your stomach began to growl your patience wore thin. Closing your eyes you reached for the feeling in your chest that seemed to know just where Troy was. With a tug it pulled you toward the direction of the main house. You frowned. Troy had said he would collect you from the bunkhouse but it wouldn't be long until there would be nothing but scraps left. With a huff you set your feet toward the canteen, trying not to overthink his lateness. He'd been on patrol all day, had saved a man's life from what you had gathered by the sorry looking figure they'd pulled from the truck. You couldn't really be angry at him for needing time to rest.

Trying to brighten your thoughts you decided to collect two trays of food and take dinner to him instead. You ignored the looks you received as you approached the remaining ranchers who were finishing their meals at the tables outside the canopy. You pretended you could't hear the whispers. Instead you caught the eye of Gretchen Trimbol, and even though you'd been overwhelmed by her non-stop chatter the first time you'd met, she'd seemed nice enough. She certainly didn't treat you with resentment or suspicion, or like a zoo animal to be ogled, like some of the others. She beamed as you approached, trying to return her enthusiasm with a polite smile.

"Well look who it is!" she declared, loud enough to draw the attention of anyone who had so far not noticed your presence.

You smiled through your teeth, "Just me..."

Gretchen shook off your faux shyness and started to pile food onto a plate. "Don't be silly, I was wondering where'd you'd gotten to! I've been meaning to stop by for a visit but Troy's forbidden anyone to bother you so... oh, that reminds me, is it true?"

You looked at her blankly.

"About you. And Troy?" she leaned toward you as if sharing in a conspiracy. "That you're soulmates?"

For some reason you blushed. Why was it such a topic of interest to the ranchers? Soulmates were hardly a something that usually became the subject of fascination, unless some scandal were involved.

Wait. Was there scandal?

"Why do you ask?" you tried to say nonchalantly, your mind racing with possibilities.

Gretchen's eyes widened as she took your reply as confirmation.

"Oh no reason. It's just so wild that anyone could still hope to find their perfect match in all of... this." She gestured randomly around her, her serving spoon flicking some remaining mashed potato to the grass.

"Oops," she grimaced.

You picked up your plate and were about to ask for a second to take to said soulmate as you caught Gretchen's next words muttered quietly.

"...and that it's Troy..."

You froze, confused. Why would it be so unusual for a particular person to find their soulmate? It could happen to anyone, at anytime.

You were unable to ask exactly what she meant by her words when you sensed a figure behind you. Or rather, smelled them. You turned to see Jeremiah Otto peering down his nose at you, wobbling slightly on his feet as the scent of alcohol filled your nostrils. Gretchen muttered some excuse about needing to tend the kitchen as she retreated, leaving you stuck between Otto and the serving table. You grasped your plate of food defensively as his eyes roamed from your face to the quickly cooling plate of vegetables and meat.

"Got your fill?" he said unkindly.

You regarded him with a wary eye. From your short meeting and the clues you'd picked up on when speaking to Jake and Troy you knew Jeremiah was someone who would not tolerate a bad attitude.

It was so hard to keep a courteous tongue in your mouth.

"I was taking a serving to Troy," you said plainly, leaving out the fact that his son had stood you up for your first date.

Jeremiah snorted, "Troy is asleep, snoring like a boar in his room."

You felt your cheeks warming.

"Then he will be hungry when he wakes up."

You tried to move past him, but Otto moved with surprsing swiftness considering the intoxication that had made his eyes glaze over.

"He tells me you're ready to be put to work. Are you?"

You clenched your jaw and tried not to spit out your reply, resenting the fact that he made you sound like a working dog or one of his horses.

"I am."

Jeremiah nodded.

"Then we have a guest in the medical tent whom Jake has volunteered you to take care of."

You frowned. That didn't seem like something Jake would do.

"You can start by taking him something to eat for when he wakes."

You tried to keep your expression under control. He was messing with you, perhaps just trying to keep you from spending time with his son. Maybe even sending you on an errand simply to waste your time. Who knew what motivated bitter old men.

Your smile was empty as you nodded, finally being allowed to sidestep the old man you tried not to make it look like you were running from the eyes that had been watching you as you made your way toward the medical tent.

You caught the sympathetic look Gretchen threw you but chose to ignore her.

You grumbled to yourself as you made your way, deciding to help yourself to a spoonful of potatoes as you walked. It was unlikely the newcomer was fit to eat much, he wouldn't miss one mouthful of the buttery delight that was Gretchen's mother's famous mashed potatoes.

You nodded at one of the uniformed men standing guard as he frowned at you in confusion.

"Otto's orders," you shrugged as you gestured at the plate in your hands. He nodded his consent for you to enter and you pushed aside the flap of the tent and made your way inside. It was empty except for the man lying unnervingly still.

You set down the food on a side table and carefully approached, staring at his chest as you confirmed that he was indeed still breathing. You sighed your own breath of relief. You'd put down the dead before, when running had been no option, but the feel and sound of a knife sliding through the flesh of an ear or eyeball still revolted you. You were glad there would be no need tonight.

There was an IV hooked into his arm. Fresh bandages obscured most of his face as you took in the mess he was in. You took a step closer as you wondered if this was how you had looked, lying half-dead and unrecognisable under the dirt and blood of the wilderness.

A voice behind you made you start.

The man who had been on guard was peering at you through the flap in the tent, "You mind sticking around while I grab something to eat myself? I'm starved and Mike's late for watch."

You blinked before finding yourself nodding on reflex. If you wanted to be welcomed here, to belong, you would need to be helpful. The man was unconscious, tied to the bed, and hardly a threat.

The guard disappeared from view and you wondered briefly were Mike was. Troy had told you a little about him, as had Gretchen upon your first meeting. He was her older brother and Troy's oldest friend from school. He was also the man who had frightened you in the showers at the bunkhouse on your first day and you'd had the fortune to not have to speak to him directly since. There was something about him that left you uneasy, even from a distance.

You started again when a cough caught your attention. The man was gasping, trying to turn on his side as he coughed and gagged some more. You moved quickly, realising if he was sick he would choke on his own vomit. You tried to ease him onto his side as best you could but with both his hands bound to the bed's sides he couldn't hold himself up enough to stop himself falling back against the pillows.

You looked around for something sharp. He was tied with plastic zip ties and freeing him of one so he could roll into his side and vomit onto the floor was your only option.

You grabbed up a pair of scissors that had been left beside a roll of bandages and cut him free, pushing him onto his side as bile began to pour from his mouth. You dropped the scissors and tried to reassure him as he writhed, trying to throw up on an empty stomach was painful. His skin was hot and clammy even beneath his clothes.

Eventually he stopped, rolling onto his back again as he panted for breath and tried to cough out what sounded like a thank you.

You offered to find him some water as his uncovered eye focused on your face and began to widen in recognition.

You realised now that the wounds to his face appeared to be burns, and not from sun exposure.

You both froze. Time seemed to stop as your chest pounded with fear. An icy cold swept over you as your mind saw past the bandages, past the sore pink skin that was exposed and into the eye of a face you'd thought you would never see again.

"You..." the man began to utter.

You stumbled back but he moved his loose hand to grab hold of the front of your shirt.

"You!"

You tried to pull free, panic overtaking your senses as the pounding of your heart became a beacon in your chest. You felt it pulsing, could almost feel the waves it sent out as if searching... calling for help.

You finally screamed.

The man sneered, finding the strength in your fear to pull you against him so your face was against his. He hissed into your ear.

"You... did this. You killed him... tried to... kill me."

You squeezed your eyes tight as memory overtook you.

Your parents were gone. A man and his son, barely more than a teenager really, offered to take you back to a safe place they'd found for his wife and daughter.

You weren't stupid but when he'd shown you a photograph of them together as a family you'd foolishly believed them to be no threat.

You could still hear the sound of the lock turning on the door. Your clothes being torn from your body as hands pinned you down.

Days passed. They only left you unbound because they'd believed you too weak to try and escape or fight back after being starved and brutalised over and over. They were right. You were too weak to fight, but not too weak to take the bottle of whisky they'd fallen asleep sharing and sprinkle over rags you surrounded them with. You stole what little supplies they had whilst they snored, including a set of matches.

One left. It was like a sign.

It was as you'd struck the match and stared at the flickering flame that you heard a sound. The son had woken and was looking at you in confusion, too slow in his drunken stupor to realise what was about to happen. You dropped the match on the wet rags and fled as the fire licked its way up their legs.

Their screams followed you as you ran, forcing your legs to carry you even as your body screamed to stop. From a distance you saw the smoke rising into the sky, disappearing amongst the clouds.

You set your sights east, some feeling within you whispering that that was the way to go...

"You deserved it," you snarled, anger suddenly bursting from you like the very flames that had left him scarred.

Your hand felt around for the scissors you had dropped, had stupidly used to cut him free.

You plunged them into his neck as he was about to speak again. His words came out as a wet gasp as his fingers loosened on your shirt and you stumbled back. He gazed at you in shock as his free hand clasped at the gaping wound on his neck and you realised how the only other man who'd dared try to hurt you had shared that same expression when you'd cut his throat too.

You dropped the scissors, wet and sticky with blood, as your blood thundered in your ears. You didn't wait to see the life leave the man's eyes. You turned on your heel and fled, knocking the tray of food to the floor as you burst from the tent and ran into the night.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 12.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

Your feet led you while your eyes could only see fire. You ran, ignoring voices that called after you as your breath caught in your chest, choking you.

How had it been possible for him to survive, to end up here?

It was like fate enjoyed the cruelty of it. Confronting you with the worst parts of your past as it handed you your future with the ranch, with Troy. And how would you explain it now? You fell to the ground, heaving up the little that was in your stomach into the grass and you tried to bring yourself back to reality.

You could feel the blood on your hand growing cold and sticky. You began to wipe it on the grass frantically, trying to rid yourself of the stain. You tried to blink your eyes clear, tried to work out which way the main house was so you could find Troy. Everything would be okay if you explained... somehow...

A set of hands on your shoulders tried to turn and lift you from the ground. You screamed.

Thrashing at the stranger and confused as to how he had managed to survive again and follow you all this way, you kicked and screamed until the hands let you go. You fell hard on the grass but didn't waste time for him to get his hands on you again as you forced yourself up and started running again. It was so dark you could barely see, you'd run too far from the main camp.

A voice shouted out, then heavy footsteps followed, faster than your own. He was going to capture you, he'd take you again, he would hurt you-

A shadow in the darkness appeared in front of you, illuminated only as the clouds moved to allow moonlight to stream down. You cried out as Troy came toward you with open arms and eyes wide and alert as he saw the blood, your tears...

You ran into his arms, shrieking and gasping. With one arm tight around your shoulders urging him behind you the other pulled a gun from his side and aimed it at your pursuer.

Mike came to a halt, skidding in the dirt as he raised his hands and stared at his friend.

"Whoa, easy..." he panted.

Your grip on Troy's back eased as you too stared at the man who you thought had meant to harm you, too shaken with adrenaline and confusion to form words. Unfortunately Troy could only glance at your stricken face, his eyes falling to your shirt which you suddenly realised had been torn when you'd been grabbed in the medical tent, and then at his oldest friend who had began to ramble as he panicked, realising exactly how the situation looked. You realised it too and tried to speak, to tell Troy to put down the gun, but all these things happened in a matter of seconds and you could see the murderous intent in Troy's eyes as his knuckles turned white around the guns hilt just before he fired.

Your hands grabbed at his wrist, forcing the gun down and to the side.

Mike screamed before collapsing onto the dirt...

XXX

"What in the blazes happened here tonight!"

Jeremiah was furious. He paced behind his desk as Troy sat with his head in his hands.

"It was... a misunderstanding." he said lamely, pressing the palms of his hands into his eyes to try and eradicate the image of you - blood smeared on your cheek, eyes red and pouring tears - and his friend, screaming on the ground as he rolled from side to side, his foot clutched in his hands.

"A misunderstanding? What kind of misunderstanding leaves the head of my militia shooting at his own men and a dead man bleeding all over Jake's med tent?"

Troy wished he could explain, but even he didn't yet know the full story. The sound of screaming and gunfire had of course drawn attention. The militia had come running, Jake and his father too, to find Troy stood over Mike with the gun pointed at his face whist you tried to tell him something through your sobs.

"Not him. He didn't-" was all Troy could make out when Jake had tackled him from the side and knocked the gun from his grip. Jeremiah had hauled Troy into his office, barking orders for Jake to tend to Mike and for Cooper to find out what the hell was going on.

You'd tried to follow but Jeremiah had spat something at you that Troy hadn't been able to hear over all the yelling and you'd faded from his view as Gretchen Trimbol placed an arm around your shoulders and turned you away from the scene.

Troy lifted his head as his father's words sunk in.

"The man we brought in, he's dead?"

Jeremiah threw himself down in the chair behind his desk and looked at Troy with eyes that burned.

"Stabbed in the neck with a pair of scissors. He was still tied to his bed. And you wanna hear the kicker?"

Troy felt something sickly settle in his stomach as he waited for his father to continue.

"It was your soulmate who saw him last."

Troy scowled.

"That's not possible. She was waiting for me, in the bunkhouse..."

"Then how exactly did she end up halfway across my ranch, screaming and looking like one of those broads that gets killed at the beginning of a horror movie?"

Troy pressed his lips together as he tried to put together the events of the night. He'd thought Mike had attacked you. Perhaps it had been a misguided assumption but finding you fleeing in the dark, your clothes torn and dirtied as you sobbed whilst Mike appeared looking like a wild thing in the moonlight... what else could he have thought?

His only instinct had been to protect you. From the moment he'd been woken, sprawled across his bed and confused by the lack of daylight, he'd only felt terror. It had been just like before, when he'd followed you to the collapsing cabin and seen that man on top of you. He'd known it wasn't his fear he could feel, but yours.

A knock came from the main entrance. Jeremiah sighed and rubbed at his tired eyes as he called for whoever it was to enter.

Cooper appeared, looking apprehensive as you darted out from behind him and strode into the room.

"This is all my fault," you said, not looking at Troy but only at his father.

Troy jumped to his feet to move to you, but you deliberately avoided looking at him as you came straight up to Jeremiah's desk with your back rigid and hands clenched at your sides.

"I killed the man in the tent-"

"Stop-" Troy tried to interrupt but both you and his father raised a hand to silence him. It was an action that unnerved him, leaving him feeling bitter but still wanting to pull you out of his father's fierce gaze.

"I recognised him from the city. He attacked me and I acted in self defence-"

Your words came out quick and breathless and Troy could see how you shook as you pushed on.

"He was tied up." Jeremiah pointed out.

You shook you head slightly and dropped your gaze down to your feet.

"I cut him free, just one hand, when he started vomiting. I didn't recognise him then, because of the bandages."

Jeremiah nodded as if to give you permission to continue. Troy watched on as if he were stood outside of his body, knowing that look on his father's face.

"He grabbed my shirt. I panicked and grabbed the scissors..."

You couldn't bring yourself to say anymore.

"It was quite a sight to see, when I'd followed you down to the tent to find him bled out on his bed." Jeremiah said flatly.

You flinched. It had been barbaric. Violent. But so were the things he'd done to you. Would you have to finally speak of those days, when you'd thought for sure you would die in the ugliest way possible?

You could feel Troy standing behind you, watching you. You reached inside for the sense of ease that came with being in his presence but found only tension.

You took a shaking breath.

"He... was not a good person." was all you could manage, your voice faltering.

If Jeremiah truly hated you now was his chance to torture you, to make you relive the horrors you'd been subjected to and have Troy have to hear each detail.

Instead his eyes looked at you pensively in the moments that passed in silence.

"And Mike?"

You almost let out a long sigh of relief that he was not intending to push for more information.

"He was meant to be on guard. He was late-"

Troy cursed under his breath but you ignored him.

"-he must have seen me run from the tent and come after me. Then Troy was there and everything just happened so fast-"

Jeremiah waved his hand in the air and you snapped your mouth shut. His drunkenness had seemed to have passed and now he simply looked tired.

"Well it's a damn good thing you only shot him in the foot," he said, finally moving his gaze back to his son.

Troy nodded once but remained stoic.

Mike. He knew he should feel something for having assumed the worst, for having tried to kill him for something that had never happened. Instead he felt nothing.

He always felt nothing... unless he could feel you.

You who was still standing with your back turned, unable to meet your eyes.

He was not a good person. Troy repeated those words to himself silently. He remembered the knife in your hand as you'd stood over Derek, the way you'd looked to him almost for permission before doing the only thing you could for an animal like that. Putting it down.

Although Troy told himself he usually felt nothing, he knew that wasn't true. He'd just gotten so good over the years at making himself numb to his surroundings he'd thought he'd forgotten how to feel. Now guilt uncurled in his gut.

He had brought the man here.

He had left you alone and broken his promise to walk with you and somehow you'd ended up in danger. One fuck up after another, just like he always did. Just like his mother had always told him.

In his chair Jeremiah was scratching at his unshaven face and speaking with Cooper, who was still standing silently by the main door. Troy vaguely heard them speaking of Jake and Mike, but he could barely comprehend what they were saying.

At least his father had calmed down. But Troy knew there would have to be consequences. There always were.

[ftwdb]

Don't Say Go.

Chapter 7.

Summary: Soulmates find each other through what is known as The Pull. A sense within a persons body that their soulmate is within reach that guides them to find them. You find yourself following this Pull, guided by vague dreams of a man you can't quite see, until you collapse in the wild and are found by Troy, your soulmate, who has been following the same feeling toward you for days.

Once connected soulmates are able to share emotions through their bond, as well as being able to sense where the other is. But how this force works is very much a mystery still, it can vary from soulmate to soulmate, and just sometimes a connection too deep can lead twist a bond from something beautiful to, well...

Warnings: Dark themes, sexual content, violence, non-graphic description/implications of SA, child abuse and domestic violence. References to addiction. Unhealthy love/obsession/relationships. Soulmate AU. Eventual smut.

There was a natural curosity about you as the newest member of the ranch. People were eager to hear how you had survived your journey from San Diego to Broke Jaw, especially since you’d been a young woman alone. You’d faked a smile and shrugged at their questions, claiming you’d just gotten lucky. If the militia hadn’t found you when they did you’d have died out there for certain.

Jake, the man with the kind face who had treated you, had seemed both surprised and relieved and when you’d returned at Troy’s side. When they’d nodded awkwardly at each other with a muttered “brother” as their greeting you’d been surprised to realise they were siblings - although only half you’d come to learn.

They shared the same father and meeting him had been… interesting.

He’d not even allowed Troy to speak when he’d led you into his home, opening the door to let you through as he shuffled self-consciously. You’d tried to offer him a small smile, confused why the man who had so easily slit the throat of another now seemed almost afraid of his own home.

Jeremiah had been sat at a large, wooden desk surrounded by shelves of books and files. He’d sat back in his chair, using one thumb to lift his hat from his eyes as he regarded you both with a dark expression.

“So this is her, is it?”

You glanced at Troy, who avoided your gaze but you caught the twitch in his jaw before he replied flatly.

“Jake told you.”

Jeremiah nodded before looking you up and down. You weren’t sure what he was examining you for but if the look on his face told you anything it was that he hadn’t found it.

“Of course Jake told me. You go running off out there alone, no backup, no nothin’. ‘Course it would be for... a woman.”

You felt yourself bristle at his tone and clenched your fists behind your back as you tried to keep up the pretender of politeness, which was more than Jeremiah had bothered to do.

You’d suddenly thought of your father, the way he had danced with your mother in the kitchen and twirled her round as if he were showing her off to the entire world.

Even though Jeremiah had two sons from two wives you guessed neither had been his soulmate. You couldn’t picture this man showing any sort of affection except perhaps to the half-empty bottle you spotted on his desk.

You wanted to reach out and grab Troy’s hand, squeeze it tight and tell him everything would be okay. But you didn’t. You hadn’t touched each other since you’d placed your hand on his chest and felt electricity coursing through your body. Would it be like that everytime? Is that why your father had never been able to be within reach of your mother without pulling her into him or stroking her cheek or her hair?

You were suddenly snapped from your memories by Troy���s voice.

“Soulmate.” He had said quietly.

Jeremiah rose an eyebrow.

“What’s that now?”

Troy finally looked at you, one quick glance as if you make sure you were really there before he spoke again.

“I said, she’s my soulmate.”

Jeremiah looked as if he were resisting the urge to laugh. Instead he sighed deeply, like a man in need of more than sleep.

“Right. Right. Well at least this one ain’t lying on her deathbed somewhere like your brother.”

You frowned. The coldness in Jeremiah’s voice was painful to hear and even though you barely knew him you were glad Jake wasn’t nearby to hear how his father had just spoken of him.

“So,” Jeremiah said as he brought a hand down against his desk, “she got a name?”

You heard Troy’s intake of breath as he went to speak but your name was out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. You would not be spoken about as if you weren’t in the room.

He regarded you silently and you sensed mild amusement as Troy remained frozen at your side. As you forced yourself to keep eye-contact with his father your mind was racing. Something wasn’t right about the way Troy and Jeremiah were together. The tension in the air, the way Troy held himself so stiffly as if ready to run or fight at any second, it set alarm bells ringing in your head.

“You know missy-”

You reiterated your name firmly and felt Troy flinch ever so slightly at your side.

Had you done the wrong thing? Would he be mad?

You felt within yourself for the connection you’d shared back in the abandoned house, to see if you could sense what he felt but there was only the contented quiet that came with being at his side.

“God damn you remind me of my second wife, she wouldn’t let me get a word in either.”

Troy let out a long breath and you finally allowed yourself to breakaway from Jeremiah’s gaze. Your soulmate was suddenly inspecting the ceiling above his father’s head and you wondered if he was even paying attention to his father’s voice anymore. He was clearly speaking of Troy’s mother and that thought increased your dislike of Jeremiah tenfold.

“The universe is strange like that,” you said as cooly as you could.

“The universe, hm?” Jeremiah echoed quietly, his eyes glazing over for a few seconds.

“We should go clean up,” Troy interupted, seemingly snapping back into the room as he looked at you and nodded toward the stairs. He made to move, to lead you upstairs to where you assumed there was a bathroom, before Jeremiah cleared his throat loudly.

“Not under my roof, Troy.”

He’d only managed a few steps when Troy turned to look at his father again, scowling.

Jeremiah’s face was stony, disapproving. You wondered if he had the ability to form any other expression.

“We have a working bathroom-”

“There’re showers in the bunkhouse. She can stay there for the time being, prove herself worthy of her place on the ranch before anything gets decided.”

The way Jeremiah spoke made it clear there would be no arguing with his decision and begrudgingly you thought he wasn’t being entirly unreasonable. Having a stranger suddenly appear in your home and start treating it like their own was a little intrusive. Your cheeks warmed as you realised he may have also been implying that certain other activities were not permitted ‘under his roof’ even though both you and Troy were adults.

“What do you mean before anything gets decided?” Troy asked, his eyes narrowing. “She’s not leaving.”

The tension in the air grew thicker by the second as Jeremiah slowly rose from his chair. Troy straightened up, but he didn’t back down from his father’s glare. Your heart rate quickened and you found your throat constricting as panic began to take over. You closed your eyes and tried to force yourself to calm down, to breathe…

But it wasn’t your panic you were feeling.

“You telling me what who can and cannot stay on my ranch, boy?”

It seemed Troy had realised his mistake; to challange his father’s authority had caused a spark that Jeremiah wouldn’t allow to grow into a fire. It would be quashed, drowned out. Suffocated.

“I just meant… she’s my soulmate.”

Troy’s voice was still determined but he sounded more petulant, like a teenager about to stamp their feet and declare that something just wasn’t fair.

“You said that already, I’m not senile yet son. But she will earn her place just like every other member of this ranch. No freeloaders. So if you’re so desperate for…” He looked to you quickly and you dreaded to think of the words running through his head at that moment.

“Your new friend here to remain, I suggest you get her up to speed quick. Starting by showing her where the bunk house is.”

You decided, in your exhausted, filthy and ravenous state, that perhaps it was time to intervene before Troy or his father’s heads exploded.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to meet your expectations.” You said frankly with a nod and an empty smile at Jeremiah. You slipped your hand into Troy’s and gave it a squeeze as you heard his sudden intake of breath at the contact. You didn’t miss the way Jeremiah scowled at your linked palms as you gave Troy the slightest of nudgest to encourage him to lead you from the house.

Neither of you spoke as you walked down the steps and along the dirt-road. You could have sworn you could feel Jeremiah’s eyes staring daggers at the back of your head but you didn’t dare turn to check.

Eventually you’d looked to your side to check on Troy. He was wearing the same scowl as his father, his eyes dark and staring straight ahead. You wondered if he was angry with you.

You were also suddenly very aware that there were people looking at you both as Troy practically marched you toward the collection of tents and caravan. Confused and feeling self-conscious you tried to pull your hand from Troy’s and the movement seemed to jar him from his thoughts.

His eyes snapped to you and you found yourself unable to meet them. Troy stopped abruptly.

“Something wrong with being seen with me?” he said with the same harshness you’d heard in his voice when you’d first spoken in the medical tent.

You blinked up at him, trying to figure out if it was you he was so angry with.

“Of course not,” you assured him. “I just thought…”

Troy waited and you marvelled at how similar he and his father were when it came to making you feel so small with just a look.

“I thought I made you angry. Did I fuck up completely back there?”

Troy stared at you as his expression relaxed before a huge grin spread over his face.

“Are you kidding? Not many people can hold their own against Big Otto.”

You scratched at your neck, itchy from dirt and sweat, and sighed tiredly.

“I felt like he hated me.”

“Probably.”

You gave Troy a look that clearly told him he wasn’t helping. He shrugged.

“My father… he’s a stubborn son-of-a-bitch. If he wants you to prove something to him… you’ve just got to play his game.”

“Is that really all his problem is? He doesn’t seem to think much of the whole soulmate thing.”

You stopped yourself from shuffling your feet in the dirt like a shy schoolgirl. Your journey back to the ranch had been mostly in easy silence, you’d both had a lot to process after all so there hadn’t been much of a conversation about what came next.

Whatever that was supposed to be.

Either unaware of the prying eyes upon you both or simply not caring, Troy had closed the space between you, his grin relaxing into a coy half smile as he slid his hand back into yours.

The jolt was there again, like before, except not quite as intense. It still sent a shiver down your spine.

“Well… that’s probably another conversation for another time.” He’d told you softly, “For now, let’s get you settled in.”