A simple supply hunt for a source of water in the middle of Atlanta turns sour quickly for Erin as she come fist to face with a fuming, handless Merle Dixon.
Alone in the middle of the apocalypse with only a racist guy who doesn't know the differen...
"Some men just want to watch the world burn." - Alfred Pennyworth, The Dark Knight
--)->
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Content warning: physical abuse
As the sun began to rise over the farmhouse, the fields and woodland were just as silent as they had been all night. Daryl's snores from inside the tent behind her were the only constant noise Erin could hear, and it had been that way since around midnight.
She knew he'd intended to stay awake with her and, when he drifted off, she'd internally debated waking him. However, he looked so at peace, back propped up against the side of the tent with the bundled up blankets supporting his body. His arms were folded across his chest, his legs slightly bent in front of him, his usually stern face slack with sleep.
Her own eyes had threatened to droop a couple of times over the hours, but she'd stood her ground, not letting the exhaustion win. If the camp was attacked in the night because she'd fallen asleep, the survivors might actually kill her.
Shane definitely would.
The quiet time had been painful, stuck alone with her own thoughts and mind, but it hadn't been completely fruitless. Time to think hadn't been common in her post-apocalypse life, so she took it when she could.
In the silence of the dawn, Erin had started to come to terms with her place in the camp, as uncertain as it was. She'd thought about how many allies she had, how many enemies - how stupid it was that she needed the former or had the latter.
She thought about how divisive she'd been ever since she met these people. She considered whether the events of the past few weeks would have happened if they'd never crossed paths. What would her life be like now if she hadn't met Merle in that stairwell?
As if he'd been standing around waiting for his cue, a crunch in the distance caused Erin to look over the field to see Merle emerging from the edge of the forest.
She hadn't seen him since bringing him back from the shed, a time that felt entire lifetimes away from now. Evidently, he'd retreated to the forest, perhaps figuring it was easier to fight off strays than it was to deal with the camp.
He approached slowly - slower than usual as he had a distinct method of barrelling towards people - and as he got nearer the camp, Erin could tell he was heading towards her. His gaze met hers once he was close enough for her to hear him, and she was taken aback by the lack of intensity or intoxication in his eyes.
"Daryl about?"
He came to a halt a few feet from her, rubbing his jaw with his hand as he looked down at her. She jerked her head in the direction of the tent and Merle raised an eyebrow suggestively and predictably.
